Page 190 of Conveniently Wed
She kneed the mare forward, heading toward the pasture where the stock milled about. She did a quick visual inspection of the animals as she rode to the tree where she usually tied her mare. All seemed to be in good shape, although they started mooing as soon as they saw her.
“Sorry, guys. I don’t have hay for you today. I’ll get you water, though, before I move the supplies.” A nicker from the horses at the far side of the field answered her.
Once she’d cracked the ice, loaded most of the materials from the little barn into her saddle bags, and tied the bucket of medicine onto her saddle, she mounted and rode toward the tree line at the higher end of the pasture. The deer trail lay right where Gideon had described it. Then she followed the tiny hoof marks in the snow as the trail wound ever higher up the mountain.
At last, she came out into an open area, smaller than the lower pasture where the cows were now. On one side, a rocky overhang jutted out of the mountainside, creating a shelter underneath. The snow lay in a serene blanket, unbroken by the tumult of hooves.
An area under the tree canopy looked like a good spot to place the supplies. After securing them, she mounted her mare and rode back to the lower pasture for the hard part—moving the herd.
Gideon was a good teacher, to be sure, and his methods worked. She found the lead cow he’d described, then worked to separate her from the herd.
She flapped her hands to move the animal toward the trail. “Come on, girl, let’s go.”
Nothing. The cow just glared at her.
Leah nudged her horse forward a step. “Hey there, let’s show the others what to do. Come on.”
With much coaxing and after several tries, she finally had the old girl moving down the deer trail. Drifter circled the remainder of the herd, yipping and nipping at their legs. Wonder of wonders, the animals began to amble after their leader.
Leah stayed about fifteen feet behind the animal, like Gideon had instructed, letting her move at her own pace. The cow seemed smart, though, and stayed on the trail. As they neared the higher clearing, she picked up her pace, as if she’d done this particular routine more than once, and knew good things were coming.
Once the animals broke into the clearing, they spread out, stomping and pawing through the snow around the tree line where it wasn’t as deep. She couldn’t hold back a wide grin. She’d made it. At least with most of the herd. A few cattle still drifted into the clearing from the trail. She would make sure all the animals were in the new pasture when she went to get the horses.
The elation at moving a herd of seventy cows on her own—with Drifter, that is—soon faded as she tried to break through the ice in the stream. This virgin ice had hardened thicker than most tree trunks, and she couldn’t tell if there was any running water underneath at all. After half an hour of sheer determination, she finally collapsed against a pine, the gurgle of water her reward for the incredible effort. If only Emily could see her now.
The deeper chill of late afternoon had taken over when she finally mounted her mare and scanned the animals in the clearing for the last time. A warm feeling of accomplishment drifted over her, infusing strength into her weary muscles.
Gideon had described a shorter trail she could take which would meet up with the main path going back to the cabin, andshe found it easily enough. She relaxed as they made their way home. She was almost a real rancheress, with her horse and her dog.
A menacing growl from behind raised the hairs on her arms. She twisted in the saddle to see Drifter frozen in place, with his attention pinned to something off the trail to their right. Her horse seemed to see it now, too, as the mare’s ears pricked and muscles tensed.
Leah squinted in the direction the animals pointed, but had trouble seeing anything against the blinding white of the snow.
There. A movement through the trees. It could have been a branch swaying in the wind, but the tension in her chest told her it was not.
Should she run? Or approach to see if it was one of the cattle? But if it wasn’t one of the herd, the movement could have been from a mountain lion, a bear, or who knew what else.
Before she could decide, the object moved again, this time morphing into two men on horses. But they weren’t just any men. As they rode closer, her skin tingled and she froze. The men had brown skin, sharp cheekbones, and long black braids.
Indians.
The horses stopped thirty feet away from her, the Indians staring stone-faced under their heavy furs. They seemed to be taking her measure, but all she could do was stare. If she turned away, would they chase her?
For what seemed an eternity, they all stood and watched each other. Then the taller man spoke to his partner, his voice rising and falling in a lively cadence—the sounds all gibberish to Leah. The shorter Indian responded with a single guttural noise.
Would they understand English? Just when she had worked up the courage to speak to them, the Indians turned their horses in unison, like a well-rehearsed ballet, and rode back the way they’d come.
Had she really just seen Indians? It had all happened so quickly, the experience now seemed surreal. But no, the tracks were there, plain as day. And Drifter still sat by her horse’s hooves, emitting a low growl every few minutes.
Her horse stamped in the snow and jerked on the reins, pulling Leah from her reverie. She urged her mare forward. They needed to get away from here. What she wouldn’t give to be tucked safely inside the warm cabin right now.
Leah saved her dramatic Indian story for after dinner, when they were all gathered around the fireplace. Leah and Miriam sat in chairs, while Gideon was still propped against pillows on the floor.
He listened to her recounting in silence, a wrinkle between his brows. At last he spoke. “Were they wearing any paint on their faces or horses?”
Leah brought back the image of the men in her mind. “I don’t think so. One of them wore a fur hood, but I could still see his face. I don’t remember any paint.”
He nodded, the wrinkle lessening a bit. “Sounds like they were Apsaroke, probably a hunting party passing through. They sometimes have a winter camp a couple of mountains over, but I haven’t seen them yet this year.”
