CHAPTER THREE
“Your father's a good cook,” Connor broke the silence as they cinched up their horses.
Abbi smiled. “He went to chef's school a long time ago. That's where he met my mother.”
Connor took his time checking the girth before he looked up. “Do you cook?”
Abbi chuckled. “I know the basics. Cassie's better than me,” she paused. “Come to think of it, Cassie's better at most things.”
Connor raised his eyebrows but did not reply. He pulled off his gloves and lifted the bridle off its peg, taking the bit in his hands to warm it.
Abbi watched him out of the corner of her eye. She had never stopped to really look at him before. He was not a tall man—around 5'6” and slightly built. She briefly wondered if he didn't eat at all or just ran three miles a day.
Her gaze moved up to his face, which was partially hidden from view by the broad brim of his cowboy hat. There was no doubt he was handsome—clean shaven with a five o'clock shadow that somehow was very...appealing? She did a double take, suddenly aware of how young he looked.
He looked up and caught her staring. Abbi felt her cheeks warm.
“How old are you?” She asked.
An expression of bewilderment swept across his face. Abbi thought it gave him a puppy-dog expression—the word that inevitably came to mind was “cute”.
Wait. Stop. Breathe. He was not cute.
Liar.
“Twenty-six,” he replied, without ado.
“You're younger than I thought,” Abbi admitted, and then blushed even redder.
His puzzled expression faded to something that resembled amusement. “Well how old are you?”
“Twenty-two,” Abbi admitted. She rushed to add, “But my ex-husband was thirty.”
Connor squinted and Abbi could see him doing the math. She hadn't outright told him that Skye was hers, but surely he had seen them at breakfast.
She cleared her throat, deciding it was best get everything out in the open as soon as possible. Before she really did start thinking of him as handsome.
“Skye's my daughter,” she said, wondering what his reaction would be.
He simply nodded. “I know.”
“What—how?”
He slipped the bit into the horse's mouth. “She looks just like you.”
Abbi paused, watching him slip the bridle over the horse's ears and secure the throatlatch.
She finally said, quietly, “That's what people tell me. Funny because her father, Billy, is Native American.”
CONNOR DIDN'T ANSWER Abbi right away. He wasn't certain for her reason in disclosing her private life. She was his boss, not his friend and truth be told, she seemed a little needy—the way she carefully gauged his reactions to her every word put him on edge.
Abbi was still watching him and he could tell she was expecting a reply. While he wracked his brain for a polite yet intermittent reply, she seemed to grow impatient—finally looking away in a vaguely concealed attempt to hide an expression that was something like disgust.
In an effort to clear the air, Connor said the first thing that came to mind—a mildly interested, but careful— “Is that so?”
Abbi shrugged as if she saw right through him, and abruptly changed the subject. “That's El Dorado you're saddling up there. I'd suggest you take him out near a snow drift before you try to mount up. He's a helluva cow pony and an even better bronc.”
Without looking back she mounted Cowboy, a little stiffly—probably from the cold—and touched her heels to his sides. Connor almost immediately noticed the shotgun in the scabbard mounted on her saddle. He knew that the extreme cold made the oils in the firearm gum up, frequently causing malfunctions. Still the presence of a weapon told him something about the nature of the country. Isolated out on the range there were no doubt a number of elk, moose, bears, wolves and cougars—all of which posed a certain danger. Elk would charge humans to protect their territory and their young. Moose were dangerous for similar reasons—they also had an aversion to dogs and pets. Carnivores also posed a threat as they would attempt to pick off members of the cattle herd and might attack in order to protect their kill.
Connor decided not to mention the gun. Instead he tugged El Dorado's bridle, leading the chestnut away from the barn to mount. The surly gelding pinned back his ears and drug his feet in distaste. He hadn't had to do any real work in months. Why should that change now?
Almost as soon as his chaps touched the saddle, Dorado arched his back and let fly with a number of stiff-legged crow-hops. Connor firmly pressed his spurs to the horse's sides, using a pulley rein to bring his head up and around. Dorado snapped at Connor's leg, taking him by surprise as the horse narrowly missed, leaving a mark on the front of his chaps. In response Connor spurred him hard. Dorado lashed out with a few strong kicks but because of the snow did not gain much elevation. Although ornery, the old cow pony was not inclined to loose his footing by cutting loose too much.
Connor looked around for Abbi. She was sitting on Cowboy nearby, her forearm draped across the saddle horn. She almost looked impressed, but he guessed it would take one of Dorado's star performances to gain her real respect.
Seeing that he was ready, Abbi clucked to Cowboy. She and Connor had been assigned to check on the Angus cattle located in the northeast pasture while the other two cowhands, Cassie, Matthias and Derek were riding to the west and northwest to look in on the bison and Hereford herds.
The wind was blowing hard out of the east. Connor tugged at the collar of his fur lined coat and pulled his scarf up over his face. He was lucky enough to own one of those “winter cowboy hats” – he was surprised to see Abbi wearing one for the first time as well. She also had a thick scarf warming her cheeks—but she wore snow pants and thick winter boots whereas he was dressed in a pair of jeans, albeit with a great many layers of long underwear, wool socks and cowboy boots. However Connor was quickly finding that although he thought he had packed with consideration for the elements, he was already a bit chilly. He shrugged. He would have to just tough it out—the ride was only just beginning.
They rode in silence for a good twenty minutes—Abbi leading the way. The horses picked their way through the icy terrain carefully. The wind drifted the now and it was impossible to tell the contours of the land. When Cowboy suddenly plunged into snow up to his neck, he hastily scrambled backwards. Abbi slipped off his back and tentatively waded into the drift herself, the snow up to her waist, breaking a path for the horses. Cowboy cautiously followed her, blowing through his nostrils and taking the step down with especial care. The dip turned out to be a dry creek bed, unrecognizable now as the snow that filled it had leveled with the rest of the terrain.
The steaming black bodies of the Angus came into sight and Cowboy broke into a slow jog. A farm road ran along the fence line and the cattle were congregated around two large stock tanks and a couple of half eaten round bales situated nearby. Abbi dismounted and planted her hands on her hips as she surveyed the water tanks. It was clear that the homemade solar water heaters had slowed the freezing process but failed to stop it altogether. Together Abbi and Connor chopped through a good four inches of ice. They had to remove their gloves and rush to remove the chunks with their bare hands—if they left the ice floating in the tank it would freeze back twice as fast.
Abbi slipped her gloves back on and studied the ripples, a look of concern etched on her face. She finally spoke for the first time in over a half an hour.
“They're going to be out of water by tonight,” she said. “We're going to have to figure out a way to get some to them.”
Connor waited for her to continue. She didn't, so he just said, “Yep.”
Abbi remounted and to Connor's surprise continued to ride east. They finally crested a hill and Abbi reined in Cowboy. She pointed across the snowy landscape.
“This is my pasture,” she explained simply. “I lease this land from my parents. Those—“ She pointed toward a group of cattle huddled near a shelter on the far side of the field, “Are my cattle. And my horses,” she added as an afterthought. Connor squinted. He hadn't noticed the Appaloosas mingling with longhorns.
“I have six mares,” Abbi explained. “They're in foal to a couple of my parents' stallions.”
She shifted in the saddle and “I need to bring them back to the barn as soon as I break the ice for the cattle. Would you mind helping me?”
Connor nodded sagely. “That's what I'm here for,” he said evenly. After all, wasn't it?
“You might change their mind if you heard their names,” Abbi cast him a playful glance. She nudged Cowboy into a jog, whistling at the cattle who snorted but moved aside for her. Abbi dismounted, keeping ahold of one of Cowboy's reins as she began to chop through the ice. The stallion nickered to the mares, who gazed back at him with expressions of girlish innocence.
Although Connor had spent his whole life around cattle, he wasn't accustomed to being in such close proximity with longhorns and he watched nervously as the cattle crowded them to get a drink. Abbi apparently noticed also as she released Cowboy. The stallion immediately trotted over to get acquainted with the ladies. Connor wasn't sure if it were a good idea to let go of El Dorado, knowing the horse's stubborn tendencies. He backed the gelding away from the tank carefully, noticing with a touch of amusement that the chestnut did not appear intimidated—he pinned his ears and snapped at the nearest steer.
Cowboy was flirting with a couple of the fillies nearby. The oldest mare did not appear impressed and lunged forward attempting to take a chunk out of him. Cowboy backed up hastily in bewilderment. Connor went over to him and picked up his trailing reins, flicking the ends toward the mare who backed away with a crabby toss of her head.
“What are their names?” Connor asked mildly as Abbi ducked out of the ensemble of cattle and reappeared beside him.
A smile lit her face.
“I guess you met Gyspy. She's quite the crabby lady. Her full name is Gyspy Planet—the others are Confused Patrol, Blueberry Hummingbird, Blushing Lady, and Mortal Wind. Oh and that filly over there,” she motioned toward a stout blanket appaloosa, “is 'Thinking Thoughts of Thump”...but we just call her Chia. The two year old beside her is Northern Pattern. He's going to be my stallion, once he's old enough.”
Connor looked at her askance. “Thinking Thoughts of Thump?”
“She was already named,” Abbi shrugged. “Let's go, shall we?”
THE RIDE BACK was a silent one. It was only once the barn was in clear view again that Connor spoke.
“Blueberry Hummingbird,” he remarked, “Sounds like a coffee cake.”
Surprised by his unexpected bid at humor Abbi laughed aloud.
“It does, at that,” she agreed.
The pounding hooves prevented her from saying anything else. Someone was shouting, panic laced their voice. Abbi swung her head and saw Matthias come tearing toward them at a dead gallop. His horse was panting hard and sweat darkened his coat. Although the temperature had been rising throughout the day, Abbi was immediately alarmed. A sweating horse in this weather was in danger of hypothermia.
Matthias swung around, pointing back toward the pasture. “The horses—the pond,” he gasped, “Twister fell through the ice!”
Abbi immediately rose in her stirrups with concern. “We're on our way,” she said. “Get SkyRocket into the barn and covered up,” she couldn't help but add as she spurred Cowboy forward.
Connor had already kicked El Dorado into a full gallop in the direction from whence Matthias had come. As they crested the hill, Abbi saw Cassie stretched out on her stomach on the thin ice, trying to slip a halter over the mare's head. Hypothermia was already setting in, as the mare's eyes rolled back in her head and her struggles slowed. Abbi reined Cowboy in and dismounted, running to the edge of the ice just as Cassie managed to secure the halter over the horse's head. She had strung her cow rope through the ring on the halter and also looped it over the mare's head directly behind her halter.
“Cassie, get off the ice!” Abbi commanded immediately, tossing her her own rope. Cassie didn't oblige right away—instead she threw back the rope attached to Twister. It fell just short of the shore...Abbi picked it up and uncoiled the rest, tossing it in Connor's direction before redirecting her attention on her sister. Cassie slowly began to inch her way in, as Connor leaned down and secured the rope around his saddle horn.
Cassie had looped Abbi's rope around her waist and was attempting to chop a path for the mare to the shoreline. The ice was over five inches thick, however, and it was proving to be a difficult task. Abbi, whose attention was on the trapped horse, and her sister, started when Connor shouted suddenly.
Turning she saw a group of curious fillies cantering in their direction. They were coming way too fast and Abbi felt panic constrict her insides. She jumped up, waving her arms at the young horses. But they kept coming
El Dorado was straining at the rope, but Twister seemed to have given up, only weakly pawing at the ice. Dorado suddenly slipped and to Abbi's horror, fell on his side. Her first concern was for Connor, as his leg was trapped between the hard ground and the saddle. Dorado struggled and attempted to lurch to his feet. He slipped again and sat down hard on his haunches. Connor rode the incident without twitching a muscle, laying his hand quietly on the gelding's neck to reassure him.
The fillies were about to close in around them. Abbi glanced toward Cowboy, knowing a commotion would ensue. The stallion, although ground tied, was already nickering eagerly to the young fillies and Abbi knew he would momentarily abandon his post in order to pursue the ladies. It was very likely that in the chaos that followed any one of the horses could trip on the rescue rope or fall through the ice themselves.
Abbi glanced back at Cassie, yelled again for her to get off the ice. She was starting to haul in the extra rope praying she could get her sister in in time.
A loud crack resounded and echoed back off the hills around them. At first Abbi thought the sound was the ice breaking beneath Cassie, and her sister must've thought the same for she jumped as well. Both soon realized, however, that the source of the sound was at Abbi's back. It came again and this time Abbi realized that a bullwhip in Connor's hand was the source of the harsh snap. Cliché Australian, she thought, and suddenly was glad. The loud noise startled the fillies who went prancing off in the other direction. It also seemed to awaken Twister who suddenly began thrashing wildly again. Dorado strained and the mare lurched onto solid ground, one of her hooves narrowly missing Cassie's head.
The exhausted mare halted, legs splayed, shivering violently. As Cassie also reached the solidarity of the shore Abbi ran to Cowboy and pulled out the wool cooler and blanket she always carried with her. Cassie had a similar idea as she pulled her own blanket off the back of Loner's saddle. Together the girls rubbed Twister down, trying to get as much water out of her coat as possible. They then threw the cooler over the mare. As Cassie secured the straps, Abbi glanced over at Connor. He was carefully checking Dorado's legs to make sure there was no damage after the fall. He looked up, saw Abbi watching, and nodded. The gelding was fine.
They were about a ten minute ride away from the barns. With a bit of prodding they were able to coax Twister into a stiff-legged jog. Cassie galloped ahead to make sure that everything was ready to receive them.
“She's in foal isn't she?” Connor's voice was hushed.
Abbi nodded solemnly. “After this, I hope she still is.”
By the time they arrived back at the barn, Cassie and Matthias were ready with a warm stall with a thick bed of straw, towels and even the propane heater from the house. Abbi was still worried, but there was nothing further they could do now. After drying Twister as much as possible, they covered her with a number of winter blankets and left the heater running outside the stall door.
As she left the barn, Abbi swiped her hand across her eyes. It was hard to believe, but the day was only beginning. The cattle still needed water and they had to figure out a way to fence off the pond now as well.
At least they had Connor. Abbi had to admit, he'd saved all their butts out there today.
