Kiss Me (Fool's Gold 17)

“We’re going,” the little girl said.

“Listen up,” Zane said. He eased into his saddle as if he’d been born to it.

Well, duh, Phoebe thought with a smile. He had.

“We’re heading out,” he continued. “We’re going to take things slow, letting the cattle set the pace. You’ll each be assigned a place alongside the herd. Don’t try to direct your horse, because he has a better idea of where we’re going than you do. If you get into trouble, give a shout.”

“We’ll be fine,” Gladys said.

* * *

FAMOUS LAST WORDS, Zane thought, wishing he could believe them. All the novices looked as if they could be blown off their mounts by a stiff wind. He didn’t usually allow for second-guessing, but he was about to make an exception. Deciding to go forward with the cattle drive had been about the stupidest idea he’d ever had.

“Ready to go, boss?” Frank asked as he rode up.

Zane let his gaze settle on the two kids, then he shook his head. “No, but we’re leaving anyway.”

Frank grinned. “Me and the boys are taking bets on who falls off their horse first. You’re gonna have to let us know who it is and when it happens for the pool.”

Zane pulled his hat down low. For the first time in years, he wanted to be somewhere other than the ranch. Greenhorns. The whole lot of them. Frank and the boys were right. Someone would be tumbling from a horse, and if Zane was lucky, that would be the least of his troubles.

“Have fun,” Frank said with an expression that announced “better you than me.”

Zane nodded. “I know you’re not much for praying, but you might want to put in a good word with the Almighty.”

“Sure thing, boss. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”

Zane nodded. “You’ll be able to reach me on my cell phone. We’ll be staying within range of the towers.”

“I’ll be here.”

Zane wished he would be, as well.

A sharp whistle warned him that his life was about to stampede out of control. Seconds later a dust-colored steer with a half bit-off ear appeared, followed by rows of cattle.

“Line ’em up,” Zane yelled.

He and Chase quickly moved the greenhorns into position. Zane trotted to the front and took off his hat.

“Move ’em out,” he yelled, and they headed east.

CHAPTER NINE

CHASE WOULD RATHER have his teeth pulled out by rusty pliers than admit the truth, but he was having second thoughts. It was only midmorning on the first day and while nothing had exactly gone wrong, he was getting a bad feeling about the whole cattle-drive experience. Fifty steers didn’t sound like many during a conversation at dinner, and most cattlemen could control three times that many without thinking twice. But their motley crew wasn’t exactly made up of average cattlemen.

There were kids and old ladies. Maybe, just maybe, he’d really been an asshole when he’d taken everyone’s money. Maybe he should have thought about the consequences of day-trading and then trying to get it all back based on a stock tip that had been as realistic as a steer siring twin calves. Maybe—

He coughed and tried to move out of the cloud of dust. It was a futile effort. Zane had positioned him at the rear of the herd, the worst place to be. No doubt he’d considered it fitting punishment for his screwup half brother.

Chase tugged his hat lower and thought about tying a bandanna over his nose and mouth. He had a clean square of cloth in his jeans pocket. But somehow using it felt like giving in or admitting he’d been wrong.

He had been wrong. Chase winced as the realization settled on him like too heavy a load. He’d been impulsive and arrogant and a fool. His insides felt all twisty and hard. Guilt, he acknowledged. Pure guilt.

The obvious solution was to admit he was wrong and apologize to Zane. Only that had never worked in the past. His brother didn’t care about apologies. Zane talked about not getting it wrong in the first place, which Chase was in favor of...if only he knew how. Zane seemed to always know the right thing to do. He never made a mistake. Good thing, because Chase made enough for both of them. And every time he got it wrong Zane would give him that look. Not the death-ray one—although it was bad enough—but the one that said he was disappointed. Again.

He slumped in the saddle, prepared to spend the rest of the morning feeling sorry for himself. Up ahead the cattle moved at their slow, steady pace. At least the weather was halfway decent, he thought. Plenty of sun. It would warm up during the day and—

A scream cut through the sound of steer hooves thudding on packed ground. Chase straightened, then swore as Andrea’s horse cut sharply to the left and headed directly into the thick trees on the side of the trail. The woman still clung to the saddle, but with all the low branches she was likely to encounter, that wouldn’t last for long.

Chase swore again as he turned his mount and headed after her. There was no reason for her horse to take off like that, not if she hadn’t done something she shouldn’t have. Zane had been real careful to choose calm horses for everyone. But regardless of the reason, the fool woman was his responsibility.

He ducked as his horse raced through the trees. Up ahead came the thrashing of something large moving at a fast speed, and without much regard for the potential danger.

“Help me!” Andrea screamed. “Oh, God, don’t you dare jump.”

The instruction was followed by a long, high-pitched yelp, then an awful silence that made Chase’s throat go dry.