Page 27 of Falling for the Cowgirl
“Ivy!” he called.
In the distance, the night breeze brought the echo of the others shouting her name. With him, Flynn, Wyatt, Judd, and several cowhands out searching for her in all directions, Jericho figured they would’ve found her by now. Unless she was lying unconscious. Or even dead.
A chill shot through his blood as it had every time he considered what might have happened to her, especially that she’d been kidnapped. Although he didn’t want to let his mind go there, he couldn’t release the nagging prospect someone had captured her in order to get to him. It wasn’t possible anyone had figured out his connection with Pinkerton, was it? Certainly Rodney James didn’t know he was working as a bounty hunter. Not yet.
“Ivy!” he shouted again.
Judd had indicated Ivy had been out delivering rock salt, something the cattle needed in order to gain sufficient weight as well as keep them from developing certain diseases. Carrying and distributing the salt was a standard job throughout the summer. Ivy had likely done it dozens of times over the years. So what had happened today?
Had she headed up into the foothills? Gone farther than usual? Maybe she’d raced after a band of wild horses. She had a tender heart for the creatures. Or maybe she’d roamed into a fire zone and been trapped.
Even though Jericho’s thoughts galloped at full speed, he tried to rein them in and think rationally. “Ivy, what were you doing?” She would have been going about her job, putting out the salt. And then, no doubt, she’d gotten caught up rescuing one of the cattle. But from what? And where?
Whatever it was had prevented her from returning. Had she gotten stuck?
The only way to get stuck was in a bog. But most were dried up by now, or nearly so. He didn’t want to waste valuable time checking them. Yet he was running out of other options.
He veered toward the river and began a slow and steady hunt, the same way he’d rounded up strays when he’d been foreman at Elkhorn Ranch. As he checked first one bog and then another with no sight of her, his fear ran deeper.
Of course, he’d always worried about Ivy. But why was he reacting so strongly to her disappearance this time? The question sifted through him, and though he wanted to ignore it, he couldn’t push it away. Not after the conversation earlier in the week with Judd. He was attracted to Ivy. Maybe he’d denied it all these years, but that didn’t changethe truth. He’d liked her when they’d been just kids. And he still did.
If Judd could see his feelings, could everyone else? Including Ivy? He shook his head. He doubted she saw anything except his aggravation.
He nudged his mount up a short hill and held up his lantern, peering down into the bog that was on the eastern edge of the river and property.
“Over here!” came a cry from the direction of the bog. “Help!”
It was Ivy. “What are you doing out here?” His relief was so staggering it turned his question harsh.
“Thought I’d sit for a bit and let the mosquitos chaw down on me since they’re hungry.” She paused a moment. “What in the blazes do you think I’m doing? I’m stuck in the bog.”
“Hold on. I’m coming.” He took out his revolver, pointed it into the air, and fired a shot, letting the others know he’d found her. Then he urged his horse toward the bog.
With his lantern casting tendrils of light over the tall grass and shrubs, he caught sight of her horse first, then a rope attached to her saddle leading to a calf stuck up to its belly in mud. She stood behind the creature up to her thighs, hardly distinguishable with the mud caking her arms, torso, and even face. Most had dried to her skin, which told him she’d been there a while.
From what he could tell, she’d gone in to rescue the calf, thinking she could pull it loose with her horse. But she hadn’t been able to work the creature free, and in the process, she’d gotten stuck herself.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” Her wide eyes peered at him from a mud-darkened face.
“You shouldn’t have gone after the calf by yourself.”
“Mighty fine advice. I appreciate it.”
He grabbed his rope and began knotting it around the pommel. “Just once do you ever stop and think?”
“I always figure it’s a heap more fun to get into trouble.”
“You should try thinking before you act. It’s what grown-ups do.”
“Why should I when I have you thinking for me?”
He bit back the rest of the frustrated words he wanted to say. He’d only rile her even more and make himself angrier in the process.
“Listen.” He tried gentling his tone. “We’ve been worried. That’s all. Let’s just get you out.”
“That’d be real nice.” The defensiveness dropped away, and she sounded weary.
“Form a second sling around the calf with my rope.” He tossed the line out to her.
