A Cold Creek Baby by RaeAnne Thayne

Author:RaeAnne Thayne [Thayne, RaeAnne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781488032264
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2010-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

Easton’s muscles hummed as she scooped another shovel full of sand into a bag. After two hours of this, she never wanted to see a shovel or a pile of sand again in her life.

“A couple more ought to take care of our second load.” Burt closed the bag and hefted it into the pickup truck to join rows of others. “That should be enough for us to protect the hay up there.”

She set down her shovel. “I hope so. We just need to hang on for a few more weeks, until the first hay cut of the season.”

“Few weeks beyond that and we’ll be moving the herd out of here and won’t need it. Think we’ll make it?”

“I don’t know.” She wiped at her forehead. “Why don’t you call Dusty Harper and check if he has any hay to sell. This time of year, he might try to gouge us for it, but you can see if he’ll give us a decent price.”

“Will do. You okay down here while Mike and me take this last load up to the creek?”

“Should be.”

Once more, she found herself deeply grateful for the endless workload of a cattle ranch that left her little time to brood about anything, especially not her own cowardice.

After she left Cisco standing in the hallway, she had tossed and turned for a long time before she finally fell asleep only a few hours before dawn. Of course she had dreamed again in the night. She should have expected it. In her dream, the two of them had been on Jo’s porch swing enjoying a pleasant evening, but they couldn’t seem to make the swing move in unison. His side had been swinging faster than hers and as a result, the whole thing moved crazily, chains jangling.

Suddenly a baby started to cry somewhere on the ranch. Easton jumped up and began to frantically search everywhere while the baby cried and cried and somewhere in the distance a mountain lion screamed.

She awoke when her alarm went off with her heart pounding, her pulse racing and her cheeks wet.

She hadn’t wanted to spend the morning moping around the house, waiting for Belle’s aunt and cousins to arrive, and she had been fiercely glad for the excuse to throw herself into sandbagging today after Burt called to tell her the creek was running higher than either of them had expected.

They should have moved the hay out when they had the chance, but a couple of pickup truck loads of sandbags would probably take care of the problem until the next crisis rolled along.

Once again, Winder Ranch had been her salvation and once more she realized the healing power of hard work, throwing herself into mind-numbing physical labor to dull the edge of her emotional turmoil.

Move forward, Jo would have said. When you don’t feel you can go another inch, just keep on riding until you get past the obstacles on the trail.

When Jo fell ill, Easton had been so grateful for the peace she found through work, for the steady comfort of routine.

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