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

That’s mighty big of you.

She followed him around to the south side of the herd, thinking Rowe and Barney would make great villains in a story. It was hard to guess their ages. They’d spent so much time outdoors that the sun and bad weather had damaged their skin, giving it a leathery texture. If she had to guess, she’d say midthirties, but they could be much younger.

The cattle began to stir at daybreak just as the night riders returned to camp for a quick breakfast and a change of mounts. The cows got to their feet to graze before the day’s drive began and drifted some distance away while they ate. When the night riders returned with full bellies and fresh mounts, it was time to turn the cattle onto the trail.

TR was on the right flank, Sewall on the left, and Dow was riding in the swing position. Working together, they began to squeeze the bawling cows into a long, ragged line. Ensley immediately went to work riding back and forth along the edges of the strung-out herd, chasing strays.

The old roan cow and black steer were up front again. Cattle were funny like that. No matter how scrambled the herd was by the time they bedded down for the night, they always sought out their rightful places when the drive began the next morning.

“We got the remuda, too,” Rowe yelled. “There aren’t enough riders to make one a wrangler. We have to keep the horses in line.”

“The unbroken ones will be troublemakers.” It was easy now to see how she could travel a hundred miles in a day. Stops and starts and quick turns could wear a horse out in only a few hours. Even Tesoro couldn’t keep up that pace. She’d have to switch him out for the bay when they stopped for lunch.

She’d spent all day in the saddle before, but riding drag was probably the worst job she ever had. Worse than mucking stalls. As soon as she drove one straggler back to the herd, another one escaped. It was like herding cats. Not that she’d ever done that, but it was a similarly frustrating exercise from what she heard.

Chasing stragglers wasn’t what she had in mind when she asked to tag along. She’d envisioned riding with TR and chatting about his life and books and conservation.

How naïve.

She grew up on a working ranch, and even when she worked side by side with one of the hands, she rarely had time for an in-depth conversation. She didn’t even have time to chat with Rowe. If she was going to make him a villain in her story, she needed a few details about him.

By the time the signal came to cut a circle for the lunch break, she was cold, hungry, and tired. Once the herd settled down to graze and rest, she left her position and rode over to talk to TR, who was looking at his pocket watch.

“What’s up, boss?” she asked.

“Norman’s not here with the chuckwagon.” TR waved to Barney, and he galloped over to TR’s flank position. “Did you tell Norman where to meet us?”

Barney removed his hat and scratched the back of his head. “Well, I thought he knew.”

TR tucked his watch away, then crossed his hands over the cantle, and glared at Barney while his fingers tapped a nervous tattoo. “I appointed you trail boss. That’s part of the job. Even I know that.”

The other riders joined the huddle but kept their mouths shut and let their expressions speak for them. Where’s the chuckwagon? Where’s our lunch?

Barney looked around the circle of men. “Rowe, go find Norman and tell him where we are.”

Ensley watched from outside the circle. If it had been TR’s responsibility, he and Norman would have planned a place to meet, and right now, every inch of TR was the embodiment of justifiable, pissed-off masculinity.

He narrowed his eyes at Barney. “It’s your mess. You go. We’ll camp over there in the trees. Sewall, take the first watch with me.”

Barney grumbled as he picked out a horse from the remuda and switched out his saddle. “Norman shouldn’t be too far ahead of us.”

“Tell him to circle back. He can get here faster than we could get the cattle to him,” TR said.

“If he’s already cooking lunch, he won’t like it,” Barney said.

“If that’s the case, pack a basket and bring the food to us,” TR said.

While the other men remained with TR, watching the confrontation, she left, not wanting to get embroiled in taking sides. She’d already mentally cast Barney as a villain in her story and doubted he’d do anything on this drive to earn a white hat.

She fashioned a rope line and hitched Tesoro there, then set about grooming him. She couldn’t wash up until she’d taken care of him, and since she wasn’t going to ride him again that day, she concentrated on brushing out the briars and removing the alkali dust. Then she saw to her own needs.

After removing the top layer of dust on her skin, she dropped to the ground and munched on the apple from Norman. She was glad to have a few minutes to close her eyes and rest.

“Mrs. Fraser.”

Ensley opened one eye and shaded it with her hand. TR was squatting beside her. “What’s on your mind, Teddy?” She sat up straight, yawning.

He sat cross-legged. “I hope you weren’t asleep.”

“No, just resting my eyes. I’ve got a layer of dust covering my eyeballs.”

He picked a single blade of flat grass and put the blade lengthwise between his thumbs, pulling it taut.

She watched with rapt interest. TR’s hands seemed preoccupied with the blade of grass, but his mind seemed elsewhere. When he still didn’t say anything, she asked, “Are you going to whistle or just think about it?”

He tossed the blade of grass and brushed his hands together. “Did you know a grass whistle isn’t technically a whistle? It’s a reed instrument.”

She chuckled. “I never thought about it,