work.”
They all laughed again, and Frank looked up from pouring his coffee.
“Yeah, I reckon she ain’t gonna be no diff’rent from all the rest of the high saltys we ever rode for,” he drawled. “I never seen a foreman or a trail boss yet that didn’t worry from can-see to can’t-see that we might git distracted from our work.”
That brought the most laughter of all and sealed her place in their estimation. At least, until she had to pick the right crossing of the first river or decide where to bed down in dry country.
But the tension thrumming along her nerveslessened a lot. At least Frank had said out loud that she was the boss.
Cookie winked at her and gestured for the men to get their plates and come to the fire to fill them.
“Sit down now and eat your breakfast, Miss Aurora,” he said, holding out a plate he had filled for her. “Won’t be no eggs on your plate tomorry mornin’ or no other mornin’ from here on out, so git ‘em while you can.”
She went to accept her food from the old man who had clucked over her since childhood. At noon she would make sure to serve herself like everyone else, but now was no time to make a point of that. Now she would quit while she was ahead.
But the minute they moved out and she was alone on scout with him, she would set Cole McCord straight. It wasn’t his job to hoo-raw her in front of the men.
She turned her back on him then and walked to an upended bucket near the chuck wagon to sit down. For this moment, she needed to enjoy a little peace so she could eat—if that were possible, with her so excited and perturbed—what might be her only hot meal until supper, depending on how fractious the cattle were once they strung them out on the trail.
The cattle, the trail. That was what she should be thinking about, that and how to get a rein on Cole McCord. Once that was done, she ought to forget about him and anything he might say. She ought to forget the strange phenomenonthat made her want him to hold her again and want to slap his face at the very same time.
An instant later he stood beside her with his breakfast in one hand and his coffee cup in the other. She glanced up and met his straight, dark look, and she felt that twinge again.
“You’ll do,” he said.
He sat on his haunches and put his coffee on the ground as the other men were doing near the fire. Heartily, he began to eat.
“I don’t recall asking you to sit down,” she said, “nor do I recall asking for your opinion of me.
“You don’t have to,” he said cheerfully. “The boss says we’re on the trail now, we’ll be working too hard to worry about manners.”
She felt her cheeks flame as her anger came rushing back. It took every bit of control she had not to shout at him.
“Mocking everything I say and do is not part of your job,” she said tightly.
“Mocking?”
He widened his eyes and arranged his face into an expression of purest innocence. “I’m not mocking you, Aurora. Not now and not before. I’m only trying to help.”
“Well, you have a mighty strange way of going about it,” she snapped, desperately trying to hold on to her temper. “I want to talk to you about that charming little performance you gave in front of the men.”
He took a bite of biscuit and eyed her thoughtfully.
“It wasn’t a performance, I was
sincerely
trying to stir up some fun,” he said.
“Trying to stir up some support for yourself, you mean.”
The deliberate puzzlement in his look became genuine.
“Aurora,” he drawled, “you’ve got me buffaloed. Help me out a little.”
“I’ll put it to you straight as an arrow,” she snapped. “You can stop trying to undermine my authority or ride out right now. Is that clear?”
“As mud.”
He understood her, though. His eyes took on a glint of mischief.
“I’ve heard all my life about how women can change their minds fast as a pitching horse can shed a greenhorn,” he said, thoughtfully sipping his coffee,
They all laughed again, and Frank looked up from pouring his coffee.
“Yeah, I reckon she ain’t gonna be no diff’rent from all the rest of the high saltys we ever rode for,” he drawled. “I never seen a foreman or a trail boss yet that didn’t worry from can-see to can’t-see that we might git distracted from our work.”
That brought the most laughter of all and sealed her place in their estimation. At least, until she had to pick the right crossing of the first river or decide where to bed down in dry country.
But the tension thrumming along her nerveslessened a lot. At least Frank had said out loud that she was the boss.
Cookie winked at her and gestured for the men to get their plates and come to the fire to fill them.
“Sit down now and eat your breakfast, Miss Aurora,” he said, holding out a plate he had filled for her. “Won’t be no eggs on your plate tomorry mornin’ or no other mornin’ from here on out, so git ‘em while you can.”
She went to accept her food from the old man who had clucked over her since childhood. At noon she would make sure to serve herself like everyone else, but now was no time to make a point of that. Now she would quit while she was ahead.
But the minute they moved out and she was alone on scout with him, she would set Cole McCord straight. It wasn’t his job to hoo-raw her in front of the men.
She turned her back on him then and walked to an upended bucket near the chuck wagon to sit down. For this moment, she needed to enjoy a little peace so she could eat—if that were possible, with her so excited and perturbed—what might be her only hot meal until supper, depending on how fractious the cattle were once they strung them out on the trail.
The cattle, the trail. That was what she should be thinking about, that and how to get a rein on Cole McCord. Once that was done, she ought to forget about him and anything he might say. She ought to forget the strange phenomenonthat made her want him to hold her again and want to slap his face at the very same time.
An instant later he stood beside her with his breakfast in one hand and his coffee cup in the other. She glanced up and met his straight, dark look, and she felt that twinge again.
“You’ll do,” he said.
He sat on his haunches and put his coffee on the ground as the other men were doing near the fire. Heartily, he began to eat.
“I don’t recall asking you to sit down,” she said, “nor do I recall asking for your opinion of me.
“You don’t have to,” he said cheerfully. “The boss says we’re on the trail now, we’ll be working too hard to worry about manners.”
She felt her cheeks flame as her anger came rushing back. It took every bit of control she had not to shout at him.
“Mocking everything I say and do is not part of your job,” she said tightly.
“Mocking?”
He widened his eyes and arranged his face into an expression of purest innocence. “I’m not mocking you, Aurora. Not now and not before. I’m only trying to help.”
“Well, you have a mighty strange way of going about it,” she snapped, desperately trying to hold on to her temper. “I want to talk to you about that charming little performance you gave in front of the men.”
He took a bite of biscuit and eyed her thoughtfully.
“It wasn’t a performance, I was
sincerely
trying to stir up some fun,” he said.
“Trying to stir up some support for yourself, you mean.”
The deliberate puzzlement in his look became genuine.
“Aurora,” he drawled, “you’ve got me buffaloed. Help me out a little.”
“I’ll put it to you straight as an arrow,” she snapped. “You can stop trying to undermine my authority or ride out right now. Is that clear?”
“As mud.”
He understood her, though. His eyes took on a glint of mischief.
“I’ve heard all my life about how women can change their minds fast as a pitching horse can shed a greenhorn,” he said, thoughtfully sipping his coffee,
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