Cowgirls Don't Cry(79)
One of the cops yelled and waved to her. She recognized him as the man Chance had been speaking with, so she waited as he approached. He grabbed one rein and stared up at her.
“Firecrackers. Some idiot let loose with a package of Black Cats.” The cop shook his head and spit on the ground. He glanced around and winced at the scene. “Keep to the riverbank and the park. We’ll patrol the overpasses, Miss Morgan. No one else will disrupt your trail drive. I didn’t want it to come to this, that’s for sure. But I had orders, ma’am.” As they watched, one of her riders was loaded into the back of an ambulance. “No sirree, I sure didn’t want it to come to this.”
“Neither did I.”
“Good luck, Miss Morgan.” He turned loose of her horse and stepped back as she put her heels to the sorrel.
Someone called her name, and she glanced back. A bevy of reporters clamored for her attention but she ignored them. The squad car with Chance and Buddy had already disappeared. The ambulance with her drover also pulled away, lights flashing, though the driver waited until the vehicle was well past the cattle herd before the sirens blared.
With the herd back in some semblance of order, she returned to work. She would finish this. Come hell or high water, she’d get these cattle to the sale and get the money she needed to pay off the mortgage. Cyrus Barron damn sure wasn’t getting her ranch. For a brief moment, she wondered what the man would do when he discovered two of his sons had defected to her side in this private war of theirs.
Cord trotted up beside her and handed her a wet bandanna. “You might want to give your face a swipe, especially before we hit Stockyard City. At the moment, you look like you’ve been ridden hard and put up wet.”
“Gee, Cord. I bet the girls just swoon when you give them a compliment.”
He laughed. “I like you, Cassidy Morgan. Too bad my little brother met you first.”
She wiped her face and winced when she saw the dirty streaks staining the bandanna. “When this is done, I’m going to stand in the shower until there’s no hot water left in the tank.”
“I’d offer to scrub your back, but I have the feeling Chance will volunteer first.”
Up ahead, a cow broke ranks and before she could react, Cord urged his horse forward and charged after the miscreant steer. She watched the expert way he worked. Chance sat a horse just as well. And he’d helped her restring barbed wire fence like he’d done it all his life. Neither of these men acted as she expected. The Barrons were the closest thing to royalty in Oklahoma—in fact, one media wag had dubbed them Red Dirt Royalty. One brother was a US Senator. Another presided over a media empire that included newspapers, TV stations, resorts and an amusement park. A Barron and the senior partner in his own law firm, Chance hobnobbed with the rich and powerful.
But when he came to her place, when he wore his jeans and work shirt like he was born to them, Chance became a different man. He sat on the porch with her, holding her hand and petting Buddy...
At the thought of the beloved dog, her chest threatened to cave in. Buddy had to be okay. Chance would take care of him.
A steer ambled away from the herd, and she shook her head. This was no time to be daydreaming—especially about a man like Chance Barron declaring his love for her. “Yaw,” she yelled at the cow, urging Red after the critter.
The herd passed under Meridian without incident. Even though the riverside park system began here, there was little open space behind the hotels and office complexes. Land between “civilization” and the river narrowed. Her riders strung out in a thin line. The next hurdle would be Portland Avenue and then the I-44/I-40 interchange. She shuddered at the thought of any of the cattle making it up onto the interstate highway. Two miles. Two miles to the stockyards. She needed things to stay quiet for two more miles. She managed a deep breath. Chance was right. She would succeed.