Cowboys Don't Cry Page 5

  "I tried that, too, I'm afraid," Maggie said, smiling. "He's as immune as you are. What does work?"

  He dragged his mind back from its preoccupation with the physical Maggie MacLeod. "Knowing what you're doing," he said with as much flatness as he could muster.

  "I'm sure it would. But Plato once said that we had to do things first without knowing how in order to know how after we've done them."

  Tanner heard the faint hint of hurt in her voice and cursed his abruptness. But hell, it was only self-preservation. "You reckon Plato knew a lot about ridin' horses?"

  "I don't know. I only know it's all I've got to go on unless you'll show me." She looked at him expectantly in the dim light of the one overhead bulb.

  Tanner's jaw tightened. He wanted to say no. He wanted to tell her to take her saddle and her bridle and her whole damn ranch and get out of his life. Or at least he wanted to get out of hers. Why the hell had he made such a promise to Abby anyway?

  Finally he strode toward her. "Give it here." He took the bridle out of her hands, careful not to touch her as he did so. Then, quickly and deftly, he slipped the brow band into place, slid the bit between the horse's jaws, adjusted the throat latch and handed her the reins. "There." Then he turned toward his own horse and, with what he hoped was casual indifference, began saddling Gambler.

  "Thank you," she said quietly.

  "You're welcome." She wasn't, but what was he supposed to say? A glance out of the corner of his eye showed him that Maggie was taking the bridle off Sunny even as she spoke.

  "What the hell are you doing?"

  "Taking the bridle off so I can practice."

  "What?"

  "I saw you do it. I can't learn unless I do it." She got the bridle off again, dropped it, turned it upside down, then right side up, and started again. All the while he stared at her, torn between outrage and bafflement.

  This time she got the brow band on all right, but the gelding pulled his head away when she approached him with the bit.

  Instinctively Tanner moved to catch the horse's head.

  "Don't," Maggie said. He saw the set of her chin, the determination in her eyes, and his arm dropped to his side.

  "Fine. Do it yourself."

  She tried. She fumbled.

  He clenched his fists so as not to reach out and help. "Talk to him, firm like," he told her. "And don't hesitate like that. If you do, he can see you're scared of him."

  "I'm not scared of him."

  He grinned. "Tell him that, not me."

  "I'm trying." Maggie shot Tanner a hard glance, but seeing his grin, she grinned, too. He looked away.

  "Come along now, Sunny," she coaxed. "We're in this together, and Robert is laughing at us."

  Tanner sucked in his breath.

  Maggie grinned at him again, then turned back to the horse. "You don't want to spend the whole morning here, do you? And we will until we get it right."

  Then she stuck the bit right between Sunny's teeth. Half triumphant, half amazed, she beamed delightedly. "Oh, you smart horse. I did it!" She turned her face to Tanner's, her cheeks glowing.

  She was so radiant he took a step backward. "Like I said," he told her gruffly, "you just gotta be firm. Show him who's boss."

  Maggie laughed. "Just you remember that."

  Damned right, Tanner thought. As much as he didn't want to think about her being his boss, maybe it was the best thing to think about. Maybe that would keep him from making a fool of himself. Deliberately he turned away and finished saddling Gambler, working swiftly and mechanically, pulling up the strap and tightening the cinch. He put on Gambler's bridle and led him toward the door of the barn. "Come on. Time's wastin'. Can you ride or are you planning to learn that today, too?"

  "I can ride."

  Tanner gave her a doubtful look, but when she simply lifted her chin and said, "Unless, of course, you'd like to teach me," he got on Gambler and headed west.

  "Why aren't you feeding the cattle today?"

  "They can manage on their own. There's grass. It's not all snow cover now. See?"

  "Do you feed them most days?"

  "If there's snow cover."

  "How much do you feed them?"

  "Too much."

  She smiled at him and he felt unaccountably as if he'd said something clever. She'd been plying him with questions since they'd started out. At first his answers had been terse. But at her persistence, he'd expanded on them. And she'd dogged his every step, braving a brisk west wind to peer over his shoulder, poke her nose in everything he did, wanting to know about things he reckoned kinder-gartners knew the answers to.

  But it didn't take him long to see that she didn't.

  "How?" she asked curiously. "Why? If she's in labor, why are we leaving her? What are we leaving her for?"

  "We'll check on her on the way back," Tanner promised. The cow was just beginning to look like she might deliver. It could be quick; she was a first-time mother. He'd have plenty of time to show Maggie around and come back later and deal with her.

  "You're sure she's going to be all right?"

  "She'll be fine," he promised.

  "When do you plant hay?" she wanted to know.

  He was amazed that she listened to his answers. Hung on his every word, damned near, he thought wryly as the morning passed. And he couldn't help feeling flattered, even when he didn't want to be. He explained about the haying, even admitting he'd rather be anywhere else than on the seat of a tractor.

  Hell, he thought, disgusted with himself, he hadn't talked that much in years.

  He suggested she return to the house when he was done. He wanted to get back to the cow he'd left in the pasture. But Maggie insisted on coming along. They were longer getting back than he'd figured, mostly because he'd been running off at the mouth. And one look told him the cow was going to be the one to pay for it. He dismounted hurriedly, cursing his stupidity under his breath.

  "What's wrong?" Maggie climbed down, too.

  "I shoulda been here." He hunkered down behind the cow, who was now lying on the snowy ground, exhausted and laboring.

  Maggie came to stand behind him. "I thought you said she was all right on her own."

  "Was," he muttered. "No longer."

  "Can I help?" She knelt down beside him.

  "Get out of my way. Go stand over there by the horses." The contraction was passing. He needed to check her now, to see the position of the calf, to see if there was a live calf he might still save. He should've checked her more closely earlier. But he hadn't wanted to make a production of it then. There was something very physical and very basic about labor.

  He hadn't wanted to deal with it in front of Maggie. Now he had no choice.

  He stripped off his gloves and checked the position of the calf, afraid of what he was going to find and not surprised when he did.

  In the best of deliveries the calf's head and front feet were in perfect position for entry into the world. But if this had been one of those, the calf would have already appeared. All Tanner could feel when he tried was a tangle of legs. He muttered under his breath.

  "What's wrong?" Maggie was back again, standing right behind his shoulder.

  He considered his options. There was a very good chance that, no matter what he tried, neither the cow nor her calf would make it.

  She'd been in labor longer than he'd thought. All the natural lubricant he could count on to help ease the calf around and on its way had long since dried up. She wasn't a big cow, either. With some it was easy to turn the calf for delivery. It wouldn't be easy with this one.

  A calf leg kicked weakly against his fingers and, as long as there was hope of getting it out alive, he knew he had to try. He straightened up and went to get his rope. Maggie watched him, but she didn't speak. He made a slipknot in the rope and waited until the contraction ended. The cow made a weak, painful sound.

  "That must hurt her." Maggie looked at Tanner with huge, stricken eyes as he slipped the rope in.

>   "It'll be worse if I can't bring the damned calf around." The next contraction was already upon her, squeezing his arm like a vise. The tiny foot kicked his hand again, hard.

  The cow tossed her head, struggling.

  Maggie knelt in the snow and grass and mud, stroking the cow's neck. "It's all right, Susie," she crooned softly. "It'll be all right. You'll see."

  "Susie?" Tanner's eyes jerked up to meet hers.

  Her gaze met his. Her face flushed almost defiantly. "Why not? I don't suppose she has another name?"

  He shook his head.

  "Then we'll call her Susie. It's more personal that way. Then she'll know we care and that we're trying to help her."

  Tanner wasn't sure cows had any idea when you were trying to help them. Sometimes he thought they might. He'd never named one, though. It was hard to name one when you figured it was going to end up on a dinner plate.

  "Suit yourself," he muttered. The contraction was lessening. He fumbled with the rope, trying to slip it over the two front feet and bring them around before the next contraction hit.

  Getting the feet together was only the beginning of his trouble. Then he had to turn the calf, all the while praying its head would come forward, not lay back.

  With each contraction he was forced to wait, to grit his teeth against the fierce pressure on his arm, to hope that he didn't lose the little progress he'd made.

  And at each passing he tried to get a grip on the calf's head or shoulder, tried to bring them forward in line with the feet as he pulled on the rope with his other hand.

  He was only barely conscious of Maggie. She knelt in the muck, soothing the cow, murmuring to her, with reddened hands rubbing her coarse hide slowly and rhythmically in time with the contractions.

  Tanner felt the rope begin to slip and cursed as he lost his grip on the end of it.

  "I'll pull."

  "You can't..."

  Maggie pushed a lock of hair out of her face, smudging her cheek with a bit of mud. "She's my cow, isn't she? A fine rancher I'd be if I sat back and let her die."

  "All right. Pull slow and steady, just like I was doing, and stop if I tell you."

  Maggie nodded. She got to her feet and steadied herself, then started to pull. He could see her new boots, mucky and bloody now, braced in the muddy field just inches from his arm. The next contraction passed. He wriggled his hand behind the calf's neck, applying pressure to bring it in line with the front feet. He felt the movement.

  "Yes..." The word hissed from between his clenched teeth. His arm trembled. A contraction built once more, the pressure cutting off his circulation again. "Stop!"

  Maggie stopped. They waited, motionless, breathing hard, until once more Tanner said, "Now," and started to push slowly and steadily while Maggie pulled.

  And this time the calf came free.

  The head and forelimbs, along with Tanner's hand, slipped into view. The rest of the calf came quickly after and he caught it, then lay it on the muddy ground.

  Maggie dropped the roped and knelt down beside it. "Is it..." Her voice was hollow, her face ashen.

  Tanner didn't answer. He hunkered down over it and cleared its mouth, then waited. Nothing. He bent and blew into it, forced air down into its lungs once, then again. Again.

  It gagged, then choked. All four legs twitched. One eye opened, then the other.

  "It's alive!" Maggie exulted. She laughed. She crowed. She crouched down and planted a kiss on its messy head. Then she looked at Tanner, her green eyes sparkling. "You did it! Oh, Robert! You did it!"

  And then she launched herself at him and kissed him, too.

  The force knocked Tanner flat on his back. His arms came up and went around her all of their own accord. All the breath went right out of him.

  The warmth and the weight of her robbed him of whatever coherence the sheer impact hadn't. Only his body responded, and his lips. Hers were warm and wet. His were starving. He couldn't help himself. Desperation could only protect him so far. Common sense simply fled.

  When her lips touched his, he kissed her.

  It had been years since he'd kissed a woman like that. Fourteen long, hungry, lonely years. There had been women in his life since his divorce from Clare. But they had been few, and none of them had promised more than a night's satisfaction.

  Maggie did—as he'd known she would.

  The notion terrified him. He jerked his head aside, then grasped her arms and tried to shove her away.

  Maggie pulled back, her face flaming. But still she straddled him, and he could feel the press of the juncture of her legs against him. He shoved himself up, but that only made matters worse.

  "Oh!" She scrambled off him and he got to his feet, turned his back, adjusted his jeans. "I'm...sorry," Maggie said in a tiny voice.

  "It's all right." It wasn't. It was awful. It had felt so good having her on top of him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her lips on his. He reached over and snagged his hat out of the muck and jammed it on his head.

  He hoped to God she hadn't noticed the way his hands had gripped her waist, hadn't felt the instinctive masculine response of his body to her touch.

  He got to his knees and ducked his head, reaching for the calf and hauled it up next to the cow's head.

  She put out her tongue and gave it a tentative lick. The calf made a noise and nuzzled against her. Her eyes, rheumy and lackluster, brightened. She licked again, nosed her child, licked some more.

  "Mother love," Maggie said softly. Her voice sounded just a little bit hoarse.

  Tanner nodded. He didn't answer because he knew his would have been a whole lot hoarser. He didn't look at her, either, just gathered up his rope, tugged his hat down harder, then got to his feet and moved toward his horse. Maggie started to follow him, then turned back.

  "Look, Robert. Just look at them," Maggie said. "Isn't it wonderful?"

  And the joy in her voice brought his gaze around, first to the cow and calf, then, because he couldn't help himself, to her. She was dirty and slightly disheveled, and with just a hint of embarrassment still in her cheeks, she looked positively radiant—the most beautiful woman he'd seen in his entire life, Clare included.

  "Wonderful," Tanner croaked, and turned desperately back to his horse.

  Four

  "She's got a lot of try, that gal," Ev said as he helped Tanner put some new shingles over a leak in the bunk-house roof. He was perched on the ridgepole watching as Maggie learned how to trim hooves from Bates.

  Tanner grunted, but he didn't spare her a glance.

  "I reckon Abby'd be right proud of the way she's come along."

  Tanner kept hammering.

  "You'd think she'd have plenty to do, just teaching all them little kids all day. But she's right here pitchin' in every time I turn around. Hell, she's up at dawn fixing breakfast every morning. She's—"

  "What d'you mean, she's fixing breakfast? You're dishing up when I come in. She's still upstairs."

  "That's 'cause she comes down first, puts on the coffee and makes the pancake batter and gets the bacon goin' while I'm shavin'. Then she goes up and takes a shower and I dish up."

  "She's doin' your job." Tanner scowled.

  "I know that. I told her so. She said she likes to."

  "Last weekend... the day I took her out with me... did she cook then?"

  "Yep. Let me sleep in."

  "You shouldn't let her." Tanner was outraged.

  Ev grinned. "Tell her that. I tried. She said she's the boss."

  Tanner placed a shingle and whacked in a nail with one blow.

  He didn't know why it should matter that Maggie was cooking breakfast in the morning. It was still food. What difference did it make who cooked it? Logically, there was no difference at all. Deep down, though, it did matter. It was like she was cooking for him.

  He didn't want her doing for him. It made him nervous.

  "Reckon she'll want to brand calves next," Ev said with a chuckle. "She and Den Baker w
ere talking yesterday about when the roundup should be."

  "That's my job!"

  "But it's her ranch," Ev reminded him. "She wasn't making decisions, Tanner. She only wanted to know. Said she was hopin' her brothers would be here. They get off around Easter."

  More grief. "The last thing we need is a couple of greenhorns gettin' in the way."

  "Maggie ain't getting in the way."

  Ain't she ? Tanner wanted to ask. He hammered on another shingle.

  "Reckon you'd've asked her out by now," Ev said, shooting him a glance out of the corner of his eye.

  "Why the hell would I do that?"

  "You been vaccinated against pretty women then?"

  "She's my boss."

  "That don't mean you ain't noticed." Ev grinned slyly. "I reckon she wouldn't care."

  "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "Her bein' the boss. Reckon she's got an eye for you, too."

  "Ouch! Hell!" Tanner popped his hammered thumb into his mouth.

  Ev cackled like a crazy man. "Got you goin', don't she? You ain't no steer, Tanner, even if you're tryin' to act like it right now. Maggie's a hell of a nne-lookin' woman, and she likes ranchin'. Just about the best combination there is. So...what're you waitin' for?"

  Tanner's hammer hit the roof with a resounding smack. "Mind your own goddamn business!"

  Ev just grinned.

  "I'm not interested in gettin' tied down," Tanner said in a more modulated tone after a moment. "Not with her. Not with anyone. Besides," he added recklessly, because he knew Ev thought the world of Abby Crumm, "if Ab thought I'd be makin' eyes at her heir, she'd have fired me, not made me promise to stay on."

  "You think so, do you?" Ev regarded him over the tops of his spectacles. "Well, she wasn't no fool, our Ab. But just go right on foolin' yourself if you want."

  Tanner snorted, not dignifying that remark with a reply. Any answer he made would play right into whatever trap Ev was laying next.

  But Ev didn't say anything else, just began to whistle softly, looking up every once in a while to watch Maggie as she bent over the horse's hoof.

  Tanner watched, too. He couldn't help it. There was something about a trim female in jeans that caught a man's attention. Bates didn't have to bend so damned close to her, for God's sake. He was practically hugging her!