to let you sleep.”
“Cade doesn’t make the decisions around here.”
“Oh? Try telling the hands that.”
Rusty came to an abrupt stop and whirled around. “What do you mean by that?”
“Your bull broke out of the pasture about an hour ago, and Cade’s organized a roundup.”
“A roundup? I didn’t know Cade even knew how to ride.”
“Can’t say,” Letty mumbled airily. “But I guess your trial period will tell you lots of—things. Coffee’s on the stove.”
“Ohhhhh!” Rusty groaned. She dressed quickly, brushed her teeth, and ran a comb through her hair. “Organized a roundup. Ohhhhh!” What would an oil field drifter know about rounding up a bull? Why would Doak allow him to assume the responsibility anyway? Doak was the foreman. Well, he wasn’t exactly the foreman. She had never bestowed the official title on him. She could never bring herself to go that far. It was one of the ways she made certain that she maintained authority. But Cade?
Before Letty got down the stairs and poured the coffee, Rusty was charging out the back door. At the barn the men were already mounted and gathered around Cade, who was standing in the Jeep.
“You know the land,” he was saying.
Rusty pushed through the riders. “What’s going on?”
“Good morning, Mrs. Wilder.” Cade gave her a quick smile, then replaced it with a serious expression and a businesslike nod. “We’re about ready to go here.”
“Why didn’t you let me know what happened?”
“Because we don’t know what happened. Only Pretty Boy can tell us when we find him, and we need to get to it before he gets any farther away. Doak, I’ll let you give the boys their directions.”
Cade stepped down and held out his hand to Rusty, who found herself offering her own beforeshe realized that she was following his orders too. “But—” she started.
“No!” Cade said under his breath, and shook his head.
After a brief moment of surprise Doak cleared his throat and began assigning sections of land for each group to cover. “If you find him, fire two shots, wait, and fire two more. If there is a problem, fire rapidly in bursts. The truck will get as close to you as possible. Understood?”
The men nodded, glanced back at Rusty, and began to disperse. Rusty, unable to hold her tongue any longer, turned to Cade.
“How dare you make decisions around here! You have no right. No right to stop me either, McCall!”
Cade sat down and started the engine on the Jeep. “Sit down, Willadean.”
“Don’t call me that! And I won’t sit if I don’t want to.”
“Suit yourself.” He put the Jeep in gear and gave it gas, biting back the ripple of a smile in the corners of his mouth when Rusty fell back with a jolt. “Why don’t you have two-way radios, at least for Doak and yourself?”
“Because—because we don’t need them.”
“You don’t?”
“Well, we never have before. Where are we going?”
“To find your bull.”
“What makes you think you know where he is?”
Cade drove rapidly across the pasture and up the slope of the ridge that curved around the lower bottleneck of land through which her plane had dropped the night before. Rusty closed her eyes and winced as they passed the plane, its wingdigging in the ground, its tail wedged into the side of the hangar wall.
“I don’t know where he is, but I thought we’d find the highest spot around and wait.”
“I can’t sit here and wait while my men look.”
“Why not? Don’t you have good men?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And isn’t Doak your right-hand man?”
“Yes, but—”
“But the bottom line is that you don’t really trust him, or is it that you’re afraid to delegate authority on the chance that your hands can perform their jobs without you looking over their shoulders?”
Cade drove the Jeep as far up the ridge as he could and brought it to a stop. He didn’t know why he was being so hard on her except that he’d been worried that
“Cade doesn’t make the decisions around here.”
“Oh? Try telling the hands that.”
Rusty came to an abrupt stop and whirled around. “What do you mean by that?”
“Your bull broke out of the pasture about an hour ago, and Cade’s organized a roundup.”
“A roundup? I didn’t know Cade even knew how to ride.”
“Can’t say,” Letty mumbled airily. “But I guess your trial period will tell you lots of—things. Coffee’s on the stove.”
“Ohhhhh!” Rusty groaned. She dressed quickly, brushed her teeth, and ran a comb through her hair. “Organized a roundup. Ohhhhh!” What would an oil field drifter know about rounding up a bull? Why would Doak allow him to assume the responsibility anyway? Doak was the foreman. Well, he wasn’t exactly the foreman. She had never bestowed the official title on him. She could never bring herself to go that far. It was one of the ways she made certain that she maintained authority. But Cade?
Before Letty got down the stairs and poured the coffee, Rusty was charging out the back door. At the barn the men were already mounted and gathered around Cade, who was standing in the Jeep.
“You know the land,” he was saying.
Rusty pushed through the riders. “What’s going on?”
“Good morning, Mrs. Wilder.” Cade gave her a quick smile, then replaced it with a serious expression and a businesslike nod. “We’re about ready to go here.”
“Why didn’t you let me know what happened?”
“Because we don’t know what happened. Only Pretty Boy can tell us when we find him, and we need to get to it before he gets any farther away. Doak, I’ll let you give the boys their directions.”
Cade stepped down and held out his hand to Rusty, who found herself offering her own beforeshe realized that she was following his orders too. “But—” she started.
“No!” Cade said under his breath, and shook his head.
After a brief moment of surprise Doak cleared his throat and began assigning sections of land for each group to cover. “If you find him, fire two shots, wait, and fire two more. If there is a problem, fire rapidly in bursts. The truck will get as close to you as possible. Understood?”
The men nodded, glanced back at Rusty, and began to disperse. Rusty, unable to hold her tongue any longer, turned to Cade.
“How dare you make decisions around here! You have no right. No right to stop me either, McCall!”
Cade sat down and started the engine on the Jeep. “Sit down, Willadean.”
“Don’t call me that! And I won’t sit if I don’t want to.”
“Suit yourself.” He put the Jeep in gear and gave it gas, biting back the ripple of a smile in the corners of his mouth when Rusty fell back with a jolt. “Why don’t you have two-way radios, at least for Doak and yourself?”
“Because—because we don’t need them.”
“You don’t?”
“Well, we never have before. Where are we going?”
“To find your bull.”
“What makes you think you know where he is?”
Cade drove rapidly across the pasture and up the slope of the ridge that curved around the lower bottleneck of land through which her plane had dropped the night before. Rusty closed her eyes and winced as they passed the plane, its wingdigging in the ground, its tail wedged into the side of the hangar wall.
“I don’t know where he is, but I thought we’d find the highest spot around and wait.”
“I can’t sit here and wait while my men look.”
“Why not? Don’t you have good men?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And isn’t Doak your right-hand man?”
“Yes, but—”
“But the bottom line is that you don’t really trust him, or is it that you’re afraid to delegate authority on the chance that your hands can perform their jobs without you looking over their shoulders?”
Cade drove the Jeep as far up the ridge as he could and brought it to a stop. He didn’t know why he was being so hard on her except that he’d been worried that
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