Читать книгу The Best Little Joeville - Anne Eames, Anne Eames - Страница 11

Four

After breakfast Friday morning, Savannah retreated to her quarters to work on her gift list before Ryder and Billy could return from plowing and they would leave for their shopping expedition. She was so excited by the prospect that her enthusiasm spilled over on Jenny, who now stood in the middle of the kitchen, smiling.

Shane had said he would be ready for their ride to Josh’s farm at ten o’clock. She wondered how long they would stay there, what would happen if they spent a lot of time alone. Her smile turned to a mischievous grin as she spun around and checked the clock on the stove. It was twenty to. Enough time to pack a picnic lunch if she hurried. But how would she carry it?

Her down jacket hung over the back of a chair. She grabbed it and rushed out the door before zipping it closed. A gust of frigid air hit her chest and she clutched the jacket with both hands and ran to the tack house in front of the corrals. With a mighty jerk on the heavy wooden door, it gave way and sunlight spilled over the jam-packed room, a room heavy with the scent of leather, damp blankets and the hard earth floor. She stood with her hands on her hips and scanned the walls of bits and bridles, feeling for a moment as though she were on a simulated Western movie set and that she might hear the hammering of a blacksmith any second.

“Can I help?”

Jenny spun around and fell back a step. Blinded by the brightness of the snow and sun, she could not make out the features of the man in the doorway, but there was no doubt who he was. Not only had she recognized the voice, but his long hair, which fell to his belt, was blowing to one side.

“Why are you always sneaking up on me?” It annoyed her to no end that she never heard Buck whenever he approached her, and she imagined he enjoyed her consistent reaction.

“I am not a horse. I do not pound or paw at the earth when I move.”

She didn’t have time for this nonsense, so she got right to the point. “I need something to pack food in...for when Shane and I go riding out to the farm.”

He didn’t move, but simply pointed over her right shoulder. She turned and blinked and saw a row of saddlebags straddling a rough-sawn rail.

“Second one from left best. Most room,” Buck said behind her.

She picked it up and started for the door, but he didn’t move, blocking her path.

“What your last name?”

Was this old man senile or what? She expelled an exasperated breath. “Moon,” she said, still not able to see his eyes because of the blinding backlight.

He cocked his head slightly to one side. “I mean... whole Indian name.”

She wanted to tell him to take a hike, but figured the quickest way to end this farce was to give him what he wanted. “Howls at the Moon,” she snapped, not hiding her impatience with his stupid questions.

His head and back straightened and he stopped breathing.

Oh, for Pete’s sake. Was she going to have to shove him out of the way? She moved toward him and turned sideways, determined to get by him one way or the other. Suddenly he stepped backward and let her pass.

“Thanks for pointing out the saddlebags,” she said over her shoulder, and ran back to the house. When she got inside and shut the door she could see him standing rigid in the same spot, staring in her direction. She turned away, slapped the bags on the chopping block and started pulling yesterday’s leftovers from the refrigerator.

How did Shane put up with that weird old geezer? she wondered, working as fast as she could and eyeing the clock. He gave her the spooks. And why did he ask about her name? She hadn’t thought about that name in years. It had never actually been her name since her mother had legally changed it before she was born. She was surprised she even remembered it.

Shane burst through the side door just as she packed the last pouch. His cheeks were red and he stomped snow from his boots on the worn braid rug.

“Sure you want to do this today?” he asked. “It’s colder than usual and looks like it could snow any minute.”

Jenny picked up the loaded saddlebags and rolled her eyes. “If I wasn’t going, would you still be riding out there?” She watched his slow grin and knew his answer. “Well, here then.” She handed him the bags. “Make yourself useful.” He took the load and shook his head in amused defeat while she shrugged back into her jacket and tugged on her hat and gloves.

Shane lingered with his hand on the doorknob, his smile disappearing. “Did you talk to Buck in the tack room this morning?”

Jenny shifted her weight impatiently to one leg. “Yeah. Why?”

“Did he seem a little strange?”

Jenny couldn’t suppress a laugh. Buck always seemed strange. Was Shane just noticing?

“I’m serious,” Shane said, his eyes narrowing. “Did you two argue?”

This conversation was growing tiresome. “No,” she said, not enjoying this shift in mood. “We barely spoke. I told him what I needed, he pointed it out, I said thanks. Why? Is there a problem?”

The accusation on his face turned to puzzlement. “When I went to get blankets, he was standing in the doorway, staring into space. He didn’t even acknowledge me at first. Then he said he was going away for a couple of days...that I shouldn’t worry.” Still frowning, Shane opened the door and waited for Jenny to pass.

They walked to the stables and saddled up in silence while Jenny replayed the brief incident with Buck in her head. The only part she hadn’t told Shane was the business about her name and what could that have to do with anything?

The sun slid behind a massive gray cloud and Jenny shivered as she rode behind Shane up the now familiar path. At the crest of the hill he waited for her. She stopped next to him and tugged her scarf higher on her nose and tightened the string of her hooded parka. Shane looked off to the east and she followed his gaze to the valley where the cattle clustered around three trucks. From the back of each, ranch hands fed the hungry Black Angus.

“Are you up to a fast ride?” he asked after a moment.

She looked at his eyes, which still seemed filled with concern—for the weather or Buck, she wasn’t certain and didn’t ask.

“Lead the way,” she puffed through her scarf. And he did just that.

He could hear her right behind him and was glad for the time to gather his thoughts. This trek was probably not the smartest thing he had ever done, what with clouds ready to dump who knew how many more inches of snow. It wasn’t the idea of not being able to get back to the ranch that troubled him as much as the thought of being stranded with this wily woman. What were the odds that they would leave their hands off each other if they ended up spending the night there? Of course Josh would return from Billings, so his presence would most likely prevent things from getting too out of hand. And if he remembered correctly, Josh said there weren’t any interior doors hung yet.