The Rancher And The RunawayBride: Part 2 (3 page)

Ty sat on the horse next to him and waited patiently for instructions.

“Hell,” Brady muttered. “Keep ‘em.”

“Yes, boss.” The cowboy turned to give another man instructions, then glanced over
his shoulder and pointed. “We’ve got company. I think it’s Rita.”

Brady frowned and raised his binoculars. Ty was right. Rita rode toward them. This
wasn’t a pleasure call; her expression was too tense.

He dropped the small but powerful binoculars back around his neck and urged his horse
forward. His gelding broke into a trot, then a canter. He met her on a grassy slope.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Maybe nothing,” she said, her words coming in gasps as she tried to catch her breath.
“Princess is missing. I can’t remember if she was at breakfast this morning. I know
I haven’t seen her all day. Tex said you knew her route.” She reached behind her and
patted the saddlebags. “I’ve got blankets, medical supplies and the cell phone. Just
in case.”

He nodded, then motioned Ty over. Quickly he explained the situation. “Take the herd
east,” he said.

Ty’s dark eyes clouded with concern. “I know what to do, boss. Just go find the dog.”

“We will.” He glanced at Rita. “You doing okay?”

“I’m fine. I hope this is a false alarm. She’s probably fine. I’d hate to take you
away from your work for nothing.”

“You were right to come get me. Princess always keeps to her routine. If she’s not
at the barn, something’s wrong.”

He tapped his horse with his heels. The gelding broke into a trot. Casper fell into
step beside him.

“You’re welcome to head back home,” he said. “Even if she’s hurt, I can handle her
on my own.”

“No. I want to come with you. I feel terrible that I didn’t notice her missing before.
If she’s injured—” She shuddered.

“Princess isn’t your responsibility, Rita. I appreciate that you thought to keep track
of her at all. It’s going to be fine.”

He spoke the words calmly, but there was a knot of worry in his gut. In this terrain,
anything could have happened to the shepherd. There were feral dogs, rattlers, flash
floods, old wells. Princess was smart, but that wasn’t always enough.

An hour later they crested a slight rise. Below them was the four-lane highway. “Her
path parallels the road,” he said, pointing to a narrow track that cut through the
brush. “There isn’t room to travel abreast. You’ll have to ride behind me.”

“That’s fine.”

“Look out for any kind of movement or tracks leading off. Also, we’ll alternate calling
for her. If she’s conscious, she’ll bark back.” He turned his horse toward the path.

“Brady, I’m scared. I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

He gave her a reassuring smile, one that belied his own tension. “She’s a tough old
girl. She’ll be fine.”

Rita bit down on her lower lip. “I hope so.”

Oddly, her concern eased some of his worry. As if the burden was lighter because it
was shared. Since his folks had started traveling five years ago, he’d been solely
in charge. Often he’d wanted to share his troubles, but didn’t feel he could confide
in anyone. The men were his employees. He couldn’t talk to them about each other.
Tex listened, but it wasn’t always enough.

Rita works for you, too
, he reminded himself. He knew that was true, yet it wasn’t the same.

“Princess!” she called behind him. He waited a few seconds and yelled the dog’s name.

Only silence greeted them, broken by the odd car or two zipping along the highway.
They continued to follow the path. Occasionally Brady would stop and use his binoculars
to scan the area. Once he thought he saw a flicker of movement, but it turned out
to be a piece of sun-bleached cardboard dancing in the warm afternoon breeze.

The path angled sharply north, heading away from the road. He yelled again. When he
would have kicked his horse into a canter, Rita called for him to stop. She tilted
her head.

“Call her,” she said.

“Princess!”

She closed her eyes. “There!” she said, pointing east. “Can you hear it? I’m sure
it’s her barking.”

He shook his head. “I don’t hear anything.” He took a deep breath. “Princess! Come
on, girl,” he yelled as loud as he could, then leaned in the direction Rita had indicated.

A gust of wind carried with it the faint echo of a bark. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

He angled his horse east and gave the animal its head. Five minutes later he slowed
to check with his binoculars. A rush of movement caught his attention. “There,” he
said, pointing. “In the shadow of those rocks. She’s pacing, but she won’t come. She
must have something.”

They rode closer, then stopped a few feet from the rocks. Princess raced toward them,
obviously limping. Brady jumped off his horse and reached for the dog. Her paws were
bloody.

“What the hell?” he growled. “What did you do?”

But Princess didn’t stay still long enough for him to examine her. She ran back to
the rocks and yipped plaintively. Brady saw a small bundle resting against the shade.

He moved closer. A faint hissing warned him that Princess had indeed found another
cat. “Hush, little one,” he said soothingly, taking one step at a time. “It’s all
right.”

The bundle turned out to be a burlap sack. As he bent over it, he saw a white cat
nursing five kittens. Their damp bodies and the blood on the burlap told its own story,
as did the ragged tears in the cloth.

“What happened?” Rita asked, coming up to stand beside him. “Oh, my. Kittens.”

“She just gave birth. Probably this afternoon. Some bastard put her in a sack and
left her out here to die.”

Rita blanched. “That’s disgusting. What kind of person would do that?”

“You’d be surprised.” Princess came up and nudged his hand. He crouched beside the
dog. “You saved her, didn’t you, girl.”

Princess whined. There were scratches on her face. A deep one in her cheek still oozed
blood. He checked her paws. All her nails were intact, although she’d worn away patches
of skin in her effort to free the cat.

“Let me get the first aid kit,” Rita said.

“Don’t bother. We need to get everyone back to the barn. Once they’re safe there,
the vet can come out and check all the cats and Princess.”

“How are we going to move them? I’ve got the cell phone and we can call Tex to bring
the truck, but I don’t think it will make it here.”

He eyed the rough terrain. “We’d be faster just carrying them back. Did you bring
blankets?”

“Sure. There’s a couple.”

“Good. We’ll make slings.”

She walked to her horse. Once there she seemed to be having trouble with the saddlebags.
Brady stood up and moved to her. “Can I help?” he asked.

She shook her head, but didn’t turn around.

“Rita?”

“Damn,” she muttered, and got the bags open. She thrust her hand inside and pulled
out the blankets, then tossed them to him. “Here.”

He caught the blankets, but didn’t turn away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She sniffed, then spun toward him. Raising her chin defiantly, she said,
“I’m just being a typical female and dissolving into tears. Ignore me.”

Just as she said, tears filled her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. Her skin was
smudged, and the moisture left visible tracks.

“I know it’s stupid,” she continued. “And emotional. I just can’t believe anyone could
be so cruel. It’s awful.” She folded her arms over her chest and swallowed. “This
is where you tell me I’m too much of a city girl to make it out here.”

Without stopping to consider it wasn’t a good idea, he slid his arm around her shoulders
and squeezed her close. “This is where I tell you that you’ll be just fine out here.
Big hearts are always welcome.”

She raised her head and stared at him. “You don’t think I’m a sissy girl?”

He thought she was beautiful, even red-eyed and dirty. He thought she was compassionate
and funny. He thought she had the kind of body designed to drive him to the edge of
sanity, but doubted she wanted to hear any of those things.

“I think you’re special,” he said, and dropped a quick kiss on her forehead.

Her smile nearly blinded him. He was forced to turn away so she wouldn’t see the shock
in his eyes.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“You’re going to have to carry Princess,” he said. “She can’t make it back on her
own. I don’t think she’s caused herself any serious injury, but those paws have got
to hurt her.”

Rita nodded. “Walking in the dirt will only increase the chance of infection, too.
But how do I carry her?”

“With this.” He took the smaller blanket and folded it into a triangle. Then he walked
behind her and secured the ends, with the blanket hanging over one shoulder. “She
can sit on the saddle in front of you. The blanket will hold her securely so she doesn’t
fall off. Can you ride back like that?”

“Of course. Are you taking the cats?”

He glanced at the burlap sack and wondered how much blood the mother cat was going
to draw. “Yeah.”

“Be careful. Look at what she did to Princess’s face.”

“I saw. Get on your horse.”

While she mounted up and arranged the sling, Brady made a quick call to Tex and explained
what they’d found.

“Get bandages and some of that anti-infection cream we’ve used on her before and call
the vet.” He listened to Tex. “The cream’s in the medicine cabinet in the barn. Top
shelf. Oh, and get a box for the mother cat and her kittens. Stick it in that rear
stall. The empty one. Don’t forget food and water.”

“We’ll be ready,” Tex told him.

“Expect us in about an hour and a half.” Brady pushed the End button on the phone,
then glanced at the sky. They were going to beat the sunset, but just.

“You ready?” he asked as he replaced the phone in the saddlebags.

“Yes.”

He collected Princess and lifted the dog onto Rita’s saddle. She wrapped her arms
around the shepherd. When her horse sidestepped, Brady grabbed the reins.

“Hold on, boy. Stay steady.”

Rita secured the blanket around Princess. Fortunately the shepherd didn’t squirm.
She flopped against Rita, resting her head in the crook of the woman’s arm.

“How are you going to collect the cats?” Rita asked.

“Carefully,” he said, tying the other blanket around him. Even if the feline was the
most even-tempered creature God had ever made, her recent treatment, not to mention
giving birth, was going to make her hostile.

Brady approached her slowly, speaking softly. It didn’t help. The cat hissed when
she saw him. As he gathered up the burlap sack, she swiped at his hand with her claws,
laying open four long, deep scratches. He ignored the blood and the burning.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he pulled the edges of the sack together. There was no other
way for him to get on his horse.

Inside the sack, the cat began to howl. Brady mounted quickly and settled the cat
into the makeshift sling. Then he carefully released the edges of the sack.

The mother cat raked his chest with her claws. Her tiny kittens made frightened mewling
noises. That distracted her and she shifted to give them room. He tried to help, which
earned him another scratch on his already bleeding hand.

“Is she hurting you?” Rita asked.

“Not at all,” he muttered between clenched teeth, and lightly kicked the gelding.

At the first step, the cat dug her claws into Brady’s thighs. He spoke softly, but
she didn’t release her hold. Angry yellow eyes glared at him, as if telling him this
was all his fault so it was only right that he should suffer.

With each of them holding animals on their laps, there was no way he or Rita could
allow their horses to move at more than a slow, easy walk. The trip home took nearly
two hours.

Everyone was waiting when they arrived. The vet took the spitting mother and her kittens
into the barn to make sure they were fine. Ziggy carried Princess to the main house,
and Quinn and Ralph took care of the horses.

Brady and Rita went into the house. Tex was already there, kneeling next to Princess.
He had some bandages in a pile, along with disinfectant and a bowl of warm water.

“There’s cube steak on the counter,” the cook said. “I thought she deserved something
special tonight.”

“I agree,” Brady told him. “I’ll give her water first, though. My guess is she’s been
out with that cat since before dawn.”

Tex pulled the dog up on his lap and supported her with one arm while he dipped her
dirty paws into the water. She whimpered. Rita crouched next to her.

“It’s going to be okay, sweetie. You’re a brave girl. This will make you feel better
so that you can get back to taking care of your cats. They missed you today. You would
have been so ashamed of the way they lounged over everything. There was no order,
no discipline.”

Princess licked her fingers and thumped her tail against the floor.

Tex worked quickly. When her paws here bandaged and she’d had her fill of cool water
and red meat, Brady carried Princess out onto the porch. She stretched out on the
blanket Tex had placed on the floor and sighed her contentment.

Pokey, the pregnant tabby, jumped down from the railing and walked over to her. She
sniffed the dog’s face, then began grooming her. Peter appeared from under the porch,
hopped up next to Princess and promptly collapsed over her back legs. Within seconds,
the kitten’s eyelids were sinking closed. A few of the other cats moved closer, wanting
to be near their leader now that she was home.

“Good job,” Tex said, and slapped Brady on the back.

“Thanks.” He was too tired to smile, so he nodded instead.

“Are you still bleeding?” Rita asked.

Brady glanced down at his chest. Blood stained his shirt. “I’m not sure I want to
know.”

“You don’t get a choice in the matter,” she said. “Hit the shower. When you’re done,
I’ll put some cream on those scratches.”