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“You can ride Belle.” Will pointed out a docile-looking bay mare in a nearby stall. “Can you saddle her by yourself? I can help if you don’t know how.”
“I can manage.” Rose found the gear she needed in the tack room. She’d suspected the boys might trick her with an unruly mount, and she was ready. But Belle was a sweetheart. She stood calmly while Rose slipped on the bridle and laid the pad and saddle on her back. Only when she bent to fasten the strap and the cinch did she notice the mare’s bulging belly.
“Oh, my goodness!” she exclaimed. “She’s—”
“She’s pregnant,” Will said. “That’s why she’s not on the roundup. But Jasper says it’s okay to ride her around the ranch.”
“He says the exercise is good for her,” Beau added. “ ’Specially since she’d not due for another six weeks or so.”
“She’s a great little cutting horse, but the roundup can be rough, and this is her first foal,” Will said. “She was bred with a champion stud, so we don’t want anything to go wrong.”
Rose had to smile. These two boys, not even out of elementary school, talked like the cowboys they’d grown up with. At least she hadn’t heard either of them curse.
She eased into the saddle, taking time to settle her weight. “I promise to treat her gently,” she said.
With Will leading the way, they set out across the greening lower pastures and onto the open flatland. The afternoon sun was bright and warm, the landscape dotted with clumps of mesquite and ablaze with bluebonnets, Indian paintbrush, and firewheel. Humming bees pillaged the blossoms. White butterflies rose in clouds where the horses passed.
The boys had told her they were headed for a small box canyon in the escarpment. A cliff face was there with pictographs of horses on it. The canyon was on Rimrock land and not too far for an easy ride. Even for a lone woman and two young boys it sounded safe enough.
Saying little, they rode at a slow pace set by Beau’s short-legged pony. Where the land rose, they picked up a faint trail that wound through the foothills. Here sagebrush and rabbit brush grew in clumps among the mesquite. A jackrabbit, bounding across their path, startled Will’s pony. He calmed it with the skill of a seasoned rider.
Rose was bringing up the rear when she noticed cattle tracks in the loosened dirt along the trail—not just one or two sets of tracks, but many of them, all going the same direction. “Whoa.” She stopped the boys. “Take a look. Does your dad run cattle out here?”
“Not usually. The grazing’s not that good. And since Ferg Prescott dammed that little creek in the canyon, there’s no water.” Will slid off his pony, dropped the reins, and crouched to examine the tracks. “These haven’t been here long. Less than a day, I’d say.”
“I heard Dad say he was missing some cows.” Beau had stayed on his pony. “Maybe this is where they went.”
“He’d be happy if we found them,” Will said, mounting up. “Let’s follow the tracks and see where they go.”
Bull’s son was taking over. So far, Rose couldn’t see any harm in it. But it still made sense to be careful. “All right,” she said. “But if there’s any sign of trouble, and I say turn back, we do it. Hear?”
Will didn’t answer. He was pushing ahead, his eyes fixed on the trail the cattle had left.
They were getting closer to the escarpment now. Amid the russet stone cliffs and hoodoos that rose above the foothills, Rose could make out a shadowed cleft that she assumed to be the canyon. The tracks were leading in that direction.
Intent on trailing the cattle, Will was lengthening his lead. Soon he’d be out of sight, lost among the stands of mesquite that were higher than his head. “Slow down, Will!” Rose shouted. “Stay with us!”
Will kept on as if he hadn’t heard.
Knowing she couldn’t leave Beau behind, Rose did her best to hurry him. But the stubborn little pony was getting tired. Even with Beau kicking his flanks, he refused to move.
At her wits’ end, Rose dismounted and strode forward. “Come on, Beau, you’ll have to ride with me until we catch up with Will.”
“What about Brownie?” He climbed off the pony and allowed her to drop the reins and boost him onto the mare.
“He’ll be all right. We can catch him again on our way back.” Which would be soon if she had her way. Will’s disobedience had already crossed the line.
Rose was about to climb up behind Beau when she glanced down at the tracks and noticed something else next to the trail. Among the cattle tracks were the prints of a shod horse’s hooves, too big to have been made by Will’s pony and too far ahead to be the mare’s.
The cattle hadn’t just been wandering. Someone on horseback had been driving them.
Somebody who could still be around.
“Will! Come back here!” Rose kept her voice low. By now Will, set on finding his father’s missing stock, had disappeared behind a thick stand of mesquite. Warning Beau to be still and keep his head down, she led the mare forward. There was only one reason for men to drive cattle to a place like this—to steal them.
A moment later, she came upon Will’s pony, tied to a sturdy branch of mesquite. Her heart crept into her throat. Will had gone ahead on foot. He must have noticed the riders’ tracks and wanted to get close to the cows without being seen. By now he could be anywhere, and she didn’t dare leave Beau alone to follow him. All she could do was stay out of sight and pray for Will to come back safely.
Knowing Beau would be safer on the ground, she hoisted him out of the saddle to crouch beside her. Fear gnawed at her gut as the time crawled past and Will didn’t return. Why hadn’t she thought to bring her pistol? At least then, if they were caught, she would have had a way to defend the boys and herself.
