No One But You by Leigh Greenwood Page B

would have been easy to relax and let Salty take care of everything, but she was Ellen’s mother.
    She was about to object, but Salty spoke first. “They’re not used to anybody but me.”
    â€œDo they buck?” Jared asked.
    â€œSometimes.”
    â€œA lot?”
    â€œNo. Just enough to show they don’t like you on their backs.”
    â€œOur horses never buck,” Ellen said. “I wish they would.”
    â€œYou’d change your mind after you’d been thrown a couple of times.”
    â€œDid you get thrown?”
    Salty laughed easily. “More times than I want to remember. I grew up a farm boy, so I didn’t really learn to ride until I went to work for George.”
    â€œI wish I could ride,” Jared said.
    Sarah knew that was the thing that, more than any other, set her son apart from other boys his age. Most would have their own horse by now. To have a sister who could ride as well as any boy their age just made it worse.
    â€œI’ll have to give that some thought,” Salty said. “In the meantime, I’ll teach you how to handle a buggy.”
    Sarah swallowed her protest. She would have to talk to him about making promises he couldn’t keep. She wanted Salty to do whatever he could to help Jared, but she couldn’t have him raising hopes he couldn’t fulfill.
    â€œNow, why don’t you and Ellen think of a game to play,” Salty continued. “I need to talk to your mother about the ranch.”
    Sarah wasn’t sure whether to relax or grow even more dispirited. By the time he fully understood the job he had promised to do, he might change his mind about marrying her.
    * * *
    â€œThat was a mighty good supper,” Salty said. “I’ll have to take you along when we trail cows to Abilene.” They were seated around the dying embers of their cook fire.
    Salty sat between the two children, cradling his coffee cup between his hands. Jared, lying on his side and leaning on his elbow, followed every move he made. Ellen sat cross-legged, her attention equally centered. Across from them, Sarah knelt to stir the coals. The smell of wood smoke and countless stars twinkling in the limitless expanse of the Texas sky provided a peaceful respite from the stress of the day.
    â€œI want to go to Abilene, too,” Ellen said.
    â€œSalty was teasing,” Sarah told her daughter. “Women don’t go on cattle drives.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    How did you explain the conventional reasons for keeping men and women apart in certain situations to a girl who defined herself by the work she liked to do? Ellen liked horses and cows; therefore, she didn’t see any reason why she shouldn’t be included with men who liked the same things. She’d had little opportunity to see other children, so she didn’t know that what most people expected of girls was very different from what they expected of boys.
    â€œWe don’t take boys or girls,” Salty said. “You would be away from home for several months, and it can be very dangerous.”
    â€œWhat’s dangerous about herding cows?”
    â€œThere are Indians who don’t want you crossing their land. Sometimes rustlers will shoot anybody who tries to stop them, but the most dangerous thing is a stampede.”
    Sarah listened to Salty explain the dangers of rounding up, branding, and trailing a herd to market. He had an incredible way with children. During the long hours they were forced to spend in the wagon, he’d kept up a steady conversation that made the miles pass so quickly it hadn’t seemed long before they had to stop for the night. Though it wasn’t possible for Jared to help as much in setting up as Ellen, Salty kept him enough involved that he wouldn’t feel left out.
    Now he was explaining the intricacies of a trail drive like he expected Jared to head out on his own the next day, and the best part was, the boy