Rawhide and Roses Read Online Free PDF Page A

appeared to be arguing. “She’s out of her element.”
    “She will adjust.”
    “I won’t take her, Mack. And you’re not going to play tongue-touch with her friend.”
    Mack eyed him.” Think about this for a minute. Those two women over there represent twenty-eight hundred dollars. Twenty-eight hundred dollars. You can’t pass that up.”
    Thad slapped the clipboard against his thigh and stepped back toward the house. Behind him, he heard another vehicle pull next to the corral. It braked and the engine was killed. Thad turned. Two men, much younger than his forty years, hopped out of the jeep and pulled their gear out of the back.
    Taking two steps back to Mack, Thad pulled his hat off his head, tucked the clipboard under his arm, and ran the fingers of his right hand through his hair in defeat. “Who in the hell is that?”
    Mack reached for Thad’s clipboard; his glance raked over the reservation list. “Aaron Johnson and Tim Rumer, I assume. The rest of the pack trip. A couple of lawyers from Indianapolis .” He held the clipboard out to Thad. “Look at them long and hard, Thad. That’s another twenty-eight hundred dollars standing before you. All those people standing over there? You’re looking at over ten-thousand dollars for twelve days work. Ready to throw it to the wind, Mr. Businessman?”
    After a moment’s hesitation, Thad snatched the clipboard out of Mack’s hand, then slowly let his gaze play over the scene before him. The two men had sauntered up to the women. One of them smilingly reached out and shook the blonde’s hand. Thad thought he held onto it a mite too long. It only took a moment for him to contemplate the situation.
    He told himself that it was because the cattle weren’t bringing in the money they used to, that there was a leak in the roof on the west bunkhouse that needed fixing, and that Sarah kept hollering she needed new appliances in the kitchen—that was the reason he was going to do it. But he knew he was lying to himself. He looked to Mack, then strode toward the crowd, the clipboard slapping against his thigh.
    He was curious about this women. In more ways than one.
    He stopped long enough to turn back to Mack for brief instructions. “Get the women some gear,” he barked. “Put them in the east bunkhouse, the men in the west. Tell Sarah we’ve got six for supper tonight. And make sure we’ve got a goddamn gentle mare ready for the blonde by morning. Hell, it better be almost dead.”
    ****
    Kim lifted a worn pair of jeans out of the pile on her bunk. Turning them from side to side, she pitched them into another pile to her right, adding them to the other articles she’d already dismissed: two large, ugly, western cut shirts, a T-shirt, thread-bare socks, a belt, a much too large sweatshirt and sweat pants combination, and a rain slicker. A dusty, worn pair of cowboy boots sat at the foot of the bunk.
    The duffel bag, which moments before had held her handouts was also packed with soap, deodorant, shampoo, a toothbrush, and toothpaste.
    She tossed her gaze to Jillie, who was trying on the items in her pile, turning around to inspect her backside in the cracked mirror behind the bathroom door.
    “He’s got to be kidding. Surely they don’t intend us to wear these rags.”
    Jillie eyed her through the mirror. After a long pause, she turned to Kim. “You’re still mad, aren’t you?”
    Plopping down on the bunk, she crossed her arms and glared at her friend. Placing the tip of her right index finger under her chin, she looked to the ceiling. “I wonder whatever gave you that idea? Is it the fact that I haven’t spoken a word for the last three hours?”
    Tucking her fingers in her back jeans pockets, Jillie stepped closer to the bed. “Okay, so what do you want to do?”
    “I want to go back to the hotel. You can stay here if you want, all you have to do is tell me the way. I was asleep, remember? I haven’t a clue how to get to Durango from