The Sunstone Brooch : Time Travel Romance by Katherine Logan (i am reading a book TXT) 📕

“Mr. Merrifield, if it was easy, nobody would want to read dime novels about cowboys. How would you like to star in one?” she asked.

Sewall smiled and offered, “I would, ma’am. You don’t have to write about him. Write about me. Then my sweet Lucretia can read about her papa when she goes to school.”

Ensley laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

TR’s horse sidestepped. “Let’s open the doors and get the cattle off. The night’s going to be long enough.”

The bawling cattle created a continuous din. And Ensley thought for the second, third, or twentieth time that they should wait for daylight to unload them, but she could tell from their bawling that the cows and steers would probably crash through the walls of the cattle car if they stayed inside any longer.

“You never know what the cows will do. They’ll keep us jumping, always on the watch,” Dow said.

“They’ll need to crop a mouthful of grass before they bed down,” Sewall said. “We’ll get the herd going north, then turn them into a loose circle until morning.”

“Speaking of eating,” TR said, “did you get a cook?”

“He should be here with the chuckwagon,” Dow said, glancing around. “Don’t see him yet.”

“I saw a loaded chuckwagon at the livery stable, but I didn’t see a driver around,” Ensley said.

After the clang and screech of the cattle car doors opening, the bellowing cows and steers leaped out, sounding like the thundering herd they were.

“Take your five hundred from the last seven cars and get ’em out of the way,” Sewall yelled.

Before Ensley rode off, she said to TR, “I apologize for the cousin lie. I thought it would be easier to explain my presence.”

“I’m not in the habit of encouraging anyone to lie, but it seems harmless enough.”

Ensley spurred her horse into a gallop and swung her rope, yelling. “Move out! Move out!” She galloped alongside the emerging herd toward Merrifield, who was riding point, holding his lantern high enough for everyone to see.

The cows were moving in the right direction through buffalo grass, covering almost every inch of the ground. She circled back to get more of the cows and steers and kept doubling back until she reached the end. Merrifield’s lantern continued to guide the riders to where they needed to go.

A man whose voice she didn’t recognize yelled, “That’s all of ’em out of the front cattle cars.”

She rode back to tell TR the herd was far enough away that he could let the rest out. The doors squeaked open, and the bellowing increased as the cattle jumped out. Ensley continued riding hard, swinging her rope, yelling directions until she reached the point where Sewall held his lantern aloft as Merrifield had done.

“Get ’em in a circle,” Sewall yelled.

All the riders started moving the herd into a circle. Ensley lost track of TR, and without Sewall’s lantern, she would have gotten lost herself. Her adrenaline pumped, and her cheeks tingled from the cold night air, but God, she loved this. Once the cattle were all in a circle, they grazed a while before bedding down. She and the men would draw straws to see who would have the night watch.

It was the middle of the night when she followed the circle of torches to the chuckwagon. TR was there, sipping coffee from a tin cup.

“You okay?” she asked, pulling off her gloves to retie her ponytail.

“Bully,” he said.

“We sure could use more men.”

“I know, but we’ll have to make do.”

She folded her gloves over her waistband and accepted a cup of coffee from a man she assumed was the cook. “I’m Ensley,” she said.

“Norman Lebo.”

She sipped the lukewarm brew. It was bitter and full of grounds, but, as tired as she was, she didn’t care. “Norman, you make a special blend of coffee from roasted coffee beans strong enough to float a horseshoe, don’t you?”

“I try, ma’am.” He hung around, holding the coffee pot, acting like he had something on his mind, and was debating whether to say anything or not. Finally, he said, “I heard we had a woman along. Normally it’s bad luck, but you being Mr. Roosevelt’s cousin and a writer, guess it’ll be all right.”

“Well, thanks, Norman,” she teased. “I guess it’ll be all right having a cook along on this drive as well.”

He grinned. “You want anything, Mrs. Fraser, just ask.”

“I will, but I don’t want any special treatment.”

“Aw, shucks, ma’am. Kinda hard not to treat you special. Ya better get some sleep. Breakfast is in a couple of hours.”

Norman returned the coffee pot to the grate over the firepit, and when he was out of hearing range, TR said, “Only one of the men has any experience. I’m going to make him the trail boss.”

“Which one?”

“Barney. The man who showed up at the Elkhorn Ranch with the message.”

“Does he have experience as a trail boss or just punching cows?”

“He’s never been a trail boss, but he knows cows.”

Ensley emptied her cup, hoping the caffeine wouldn’t keep her from dozing off for an hour or so. “If he doesn’t know what he’s doing, everything will get snarled up, and you’ll waste time trying to disentangle the situation. I’ll watch him, and if I notice anything going off the rails, you’ll want to take over immediately. You have too much money in this herd to lose your investment to incompetence.”

TR chuckled. “If he can’t do the job, then I’ll put you in charge.”

She laughed out loud. “Not me. I’m no trail boss. I’m just a writer looking for a story.”

“You’re much more than that, Mrs. Fraser. Get some sleep.”

She walked away to unsaddle Tesoro, wondering what TR meant by that. But didn’t spend time dwelling on it.

When she put Tesoro in the makeshift corral to graze, she gave his withers a good rub. “You did great today, big guy. I’ll give you the morning off.”

Tesoro nudged her shoulder. “You don’t want to be left out, do you?” She rubbed his