A Home for His Family by Jan Drexler

Author:Jan Drexler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2015-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Nate shifted in his saddle, studying the cattle Barker’s cowboys had sorted out for him. Most were young longhorns, thin and restless after a winter on the range. In the mix a few cows with spring calves cropped at the rich grass. Brown, white, piebald and spotted, they spread out over the prairie east of Camp Sturgis, in the shadow of Bear Butte. The rest of the steers, sleek and healthy, bawled as the cowhands drove them into the army’s waiting pens.

“What do you think?” Justice Cooper pulled his hat off and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a practiced gesture.

“I think I’m happy we’re at the end of this drive.” Nate shifted in his saddle, weary and sore. “And this herd will be a good start for my ranch. I owe Mr. Barker my thanks for letting me put them in with the cattle he was sending to Camp Sturgis.”

Coop rode as if he lived on his horse. Nate had the passing thought that maybe the young man had never learned to walk, but started riding as a baby. Coop had become a good friend on the drive, nearly as close as a brother. He hadn’t left Nate to himself the way the other Barker Ranch cowhands had, but had sought him out. The cowboy taught Nate the finer points of herding cattle, teaching him to anticipate each animal’s next move.

But by the time the Barker herd had reached Camp Sturgis from Wyoming, Nate was dead tired. Driving cattle was a tough job, no matter how you looked at it. Between keeping them moving when they wanted to graze and stopping the young steers from heading up every dry draw they came to, the days were long in the saddle.

The nights were no better. Three times they had to fight off small bands of raiders. Indians or cattle rustlers, it didn’t seem to matter. The raiders would edge up to the outskirts of the herd in the dark and drive off as many head as they could. By the time the night guard reached the spot, they’d be gone. They lost a few head of cattle in each incident.

And then one of Nate’s cows had died along the way, just as they got into the Black Hills. She lay down while they watered the cattle at the Belle Fourche River near the Devil’s Tower and didn’t get up again. Cookie had let her calf ride in the chuck wagon, but it was touch and go with the little bull for a while. Nate hoped he’d be able to make the fifteen-mile trip up to the homestead from the military camp.

When the army’s steers had been sorted out from the herd and bunched in a corral, the trail boss, Jed Slaughter, rode up to Nate and Coop. Jed’s sun-browned face was hard and wary.

“Got bad news for you, Colby. The commissary officer doesn’t care if we ran into rustlers, he still wants the full count of cattle he paid for.

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