following the trail boss.”
“That’s Luke?” Faith said.
“On this drive. But it could be any of the three oldest McCutcheon brothers. We never know till we start. It’s the first time Luke’s been running the show. That’s why it was sort of amusing he showed up with you.” Faith hadn’t thought about how her presence might affect Luke. She’d been totally self-absorbed.
“Three older? There’re more?”
“One more boy. Jonathan McCutcheon. But he’s away at un-ee-versity, studyin’ to be a doctor.” Francis paused. “There’s Charity, too. She’s the baby, only fifteen.” At the mention of her, the youth’s face turned crimson.
“That’s quite a family,” Faith exclaimed.
“You’re right about that. Mrs. Mac, that’s what the ranch hands call Mrs. McCutcheon, runs it like the United States Calvary,” he chuckled. “All business and boom, even though she don’t come up to my shoulder. Flood—that’s Mr. McCutcheon—thinks he’s in charge, but everyone knows it’s really his wife holding the reins.” He eyed Faith nervously. “But don’t say I said so.”
“No, I won’t.”
The youth gave a sigh of relief.
“The father’s name is Flood? Flood McCutcheon?” Faith asked, surprised. “That’s an unusual name.”
“Undoubtedly there’s a story behind it, but I ain’t knowing it.”
Three hours passed peacefully and Faith realized she was enjoying it very much. She felt safe, and cared for. She rejoiced at the thought of Ward losing their trail and giving up, frustrated. Two riders loped their horses from the side of the herd to the front as they began slowing the progress of the steers.
“It’s nooning time,” Francis remarked. “We’ll just make a brief stop so the cattle won’t feel rushed. Not good for the beef if the steers get nervous.” He took off his hat and brushed sweat from his brow with his shirtsleeve. “Hungry?”
“Yes, I guess I am,” Faith admitted. “It seems to be the only thing I am lately—hungry or sleepy.”
“Understandable.”
Faith shaded her eyes with her hand. Relief coursed through her. “Look, here comes Colton!”
Smokey jogged up on his horse and stopped next to the wagon. His cheek bulged with chew, and sweat trickled down the sides of his face. Colton sat directly behind his saddle, on the horse’s sweaty back. Faith gasped when she saw him. Dirt, weeds and cow dung clung from every inch.
“Whooo-eee,” Francis cried. “What happened to you?”
Colton beamed. “Had a small dilemma, that’s all. Nothin’ to get flop-eared about.”
“Colton, come here. Let me have a look at you,” Faith demanded.
“Ma, I’m fine,” Colton said, masterfully dismissing her.
Smokey leaned his forearms onto his saddle horn and relaxed. Pulling a packet from his pocket, he stuck two fingers in and grabbed a big brown wad of tobacco. Sticking it between his lip and teeth, he added to the already existing clump.
“I’m real sorry, ma’am. We come upon a nest of rattlers and I had a heck of a time with my pony.” He spit to the side and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. “Colton here got pitched off.”
Nest of rattlesnakes? Faith felt a little dizzy. “Are you sure he wasn’t bitten?”
“Nah, he’s jist bruised up a bit. He’ll be right as rain tomorrow.” Smokey shook his head and laughed. “Little bugger sure can run. Should have seen him churnin’ up the dust.”
Colton reached under his leg into the saddlebag and pulled out a headless rattlesnake. Blood, red as cherry juice, dripped down the four-foot-long corpse and onto the dusty ground, making little puffs of dust. Smokey’s horse tossed his head and danced around anxiously. Faith couldn’t say she felt much better.
“Look, Ma,” Colton said excitedly, shaking the rattler’s beaded brown tail, making the horse snort and paw the ground. “Smokey said I could eat it for supper!”
Chapter Twelve
R IDING toward Faith’s wagon at a lope,
“That’s Luke?” Faith said.
“On this drive. But it could be any of the three oldest McCutcheon brothers. We never know till we start. It’s the first time Luke’s been running the show. That’s why it was sort of amusing he showed up with you.” Faith hadn’t thought about how her presence might affect Luke. She’d been totally self-absorbed.
“Three older? There’re more?”
“One more boy. Jonathan McCutcheon. But he’s away at un-ee-versity, studyin’ to be a doctor.” Francis paused. “There’s Charity, too. She’s the baby, only fifteen.” At the mention of her, the youth’s face turned crimson.
“That’s quite a family,” Faith exclaimed.
“You’re right about that. Mrs. Mac, that’s what the ranch hands call Mrs. McCutcheon, runs it like the United States Calvary,” he chuckled. “All business and boom, even though she don’t come up to my shoulder. Flood—that’s Mr. McCutcheon—thinks he’s in charge, but everyone knows it’s really his wife holding the reins.” He eyed Faith nervously. “But don’t say I said so.”
“No, I won’t.”
The youth gave a sigh of relief.
“The father’s name is Flood? Flood McCutcheon?” Faith asked, surprised. “That’s an unusual name.”
“Undoubtedly there’s a story behind it, but I ain’t knowing it.”
Three hours passed peacefully and Faith realized she was enjoying it very much. She felt safe, and cared for. She rejoiced at the thought of Ward losing their trail and giving up, frustrated. Two riders loped their horses from the side of the herd to the front as they began slowing the progress of the steers.
“It’s nooning time,” Francis remarked. “We’ll just make a brief stop so the cattle won’t feel rushed. Not good for the beef if the steers get nervous.” He took off his hat and brushed sweat from his brow with his shirtsleeve. “Hungry?”
“Yes, I guess I am,” Faith admitted. “It seems to be the only thing I am lately—hungry or sleepy.”
“Understandable.”
Faith shaded her eyes with her hand. Relief coursed through her. “Look, here comes Colton!”
Smokey jogged up on his horse and stopped next to the wagon. His cheek bulged with chew, and sweat trickled down the sides of his face. Colton sat directly behind his saddle, on the horse’s sweaty back. Faith gasped when she saw him. Dirt, weeds and cow dung clung from every inch.
“Whooo-eee,” Francis cried. “What happened to you?”
Colton beamed. “Had a small dilemma, that’s all. Nothin’ to get flop-eared about.”
“Colton, come here. Let me have a look at you,” Faith demanded.
“Ma, I’m fine,” Colton said, masterfully dismissing her.
Smokey leaned his forearms onto his saddle horn and relaxed. Pulling a packet from his pocket, he stuck two fingers in and grabbed a big brown wad of tobacco. Sticking it between his lip and teeth, he added to the already existing clump.
“I’m real sorry, ma’am. We come upon a nest of rattlers and I had a heck of a time with my pony.” He spit to the side and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. “Colton here got pitched off.”
Nest of rattlesnakes? Faith felt a little dizzy. “Are you sure he wasn’t bitten?”
“Nah, he’s jist bruised up a bit. He’ll be right as rain tomorrow.” Smokey shook his head and laughed. “Little bugger sure can run. Should have seen him churnin’ up the dust.”
Colton reached under his leg into the saddlebag and pulled out a headless rattlesnake. Blood, red as cherry juice, dripped down the four-foot-long corpse and onto the dusty ground, making little puffs of dust. Smokey’s horse tossed his head and danced around anxiously. Faith couldn’t say she felt much better.
“Look, Ma,” Colton said excitedly, shaking the rattler’s beaded brown tail, making the horse snort and paw the ground. “Smokey said I could eat it for supper!”
Chapter Twelve
R IDING toward Faith’s wagon at a lope,
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