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He blinked and lowered the gun, his body slumping. One hand went to the wound on his head. He winced as his fingers touched the blood-encrusted crease. “My head hurts like hell.... Good Lord, have I been shot?”
“Shot, but just winged from the looks of it. Hold on, I’ll get you some water.” Rose stood, strode to the horse, and retrieved the canteen. It was heavy with the cool weight of the water inside. When she glanced up at the sky, she saw that the buzzards were gone.
“As for my being a rustler, you’re out of your mind. All I’m doing here is trying to save your life.” As she spoke, she twisted the lid off the canteen and thrust it toward him. “Drink up. There’s plenty, and it’ll make you feel better. Then I’ll sponge off that wound, just to pretty you up a little. You’re lucky to be alive.”
He drank long and deeply, wiping his mouth as he lowered the canteen. “So if you aren’t a rustler, as you say, what the hell are you doing out here?” he asked.
“I was out riding with Bull’s two sons. We came across the tracks and thought they might be some missing Rimrock cows, so we followed them. We got this far and found you.”
He glanced around. “So where are the two boys?”
“I sent them back the way we came. As soon as I get you on your feet, I’ll be going after them. They’re just kids. They shouldn’t be out here alone. Do you have a clean handkerchief?”
He fished in his shirt pocket and came up with a folded square of white cotton. She poured water on it and began dabbing at the wound, not opening the bullet crease but cleaning up around it. His hair was thick and clean, just beginning to gray at the temples, and the skin of his face had weathered to a patina like fine leather. Even under these crazy conditions, Rose was aware that she enjoyed touching him. But maybe that was because he was no longer a threat.
“I suppose I should ask what you were doing out here,” she said.
“Prescott sent me to check out the tracks leading from one of his pastures. I followed them this far, heard the cows, and saw somebody up in the rocks. Then everything went black. Judging from where the sun is now, that would’ve been at least an hour ago. Did you see anybody when you came along with the boys?”
“Not a soul. If the rustlers are still with the cows, they’re not showing themselves.” She rinsed the bloodstained handkerchief, untied his red bandanna from around his neck, and rolled it into a makeshift bandage. “I’ve got to catch up with the boys,” she said, tying it around his head. “Do you think you can ride?”
“I’ll be fine.” Grimacing with effort, Tanner pushed himself to his feet and took a few steps. He swayed as he walked, but he kept going, his teeth clenched against the pain. Rose stayed at his side to steady him as he crossed the clearing to his horse. As if to prove he didn’t need her help, he clasped the saddle horn, lifted a boot to the stirrup, and swung his body into place.
“What are you going to tell your boss?” She reached up to hand him the canteen.
“The truth.” His eyes were laced with pain. “He’ll be grateful that you came along and helped me. Where’s your horse?”
“Back there in the brush.” She glanced over her shoulder, the way she’d come. “Hang on, you’ll want this.” She fetched his hat, which had caught on a nearby bush.
He took it and placed it on his head, working it gingerly over the top edge of the bandanna. “Almost forgot . . . I’ve been saving something for you.” He reached under his vest, groped in his shirt pocket, and came up with a crumpled black ribbon. “I found it in the truck,?
? he said.
“Thanks.” She took it. “It might not look like much, but it holds a memory of someone I cared about. I thought it was gone for good.” She tucked it into her pocket, aware of the warmth that lingered from his body.
“Maybe we’ll see each other again, Rose,” he said.
His words, innocent on the surface, raised her protective barriers. He was a man, after all, and she knew almost nothing about him. She forced herself to speak. “Under the circumstances, it might be better if we didn’t. Right now, as long as you’re all right, I’ve got to catch up with the boys.”
“I’m fine. Go on.”
To Rose, he still looked unsteady, but she’d already left Bull’s sons on their own too long. Leaving Tanner, she raced back the way she’d come, found the mare, and sprang into the saddle.
A few minutes later, crossing the brushy flat, she caught up with the boys. Beau was riding Brownie again, the little pony trotting eagerly toward home.
“Was the man dead?” Beau seemed more curious than worried.
“No. He was unconscious, but I woke him up and gave him some water. He’s going to be all right.”
“Was he a rustler?” Will asked.
“He was just a cowboy looking for Mr. Prescott’s missing cattle.” Rose knew better than to tell them more. “Right now, we need to find your father and tell him about those cows.”
“I know where to find him,” Will said. “I’ll go with you and show you the way.”
Rose gave him a stern look. “I’ll find him myself, Will. You’re in trouble for disobeying me. You and Beau are going home and putting away your ponies. Then, when I tell Bernice what you did, you’re probably going to your room.”
* * *
