5 minutes later the calf slid free, not breathing. Caleb grabbed it and cleared its mouth. Nothing.
Clara was there instantly. “Give it to me.”
She took the calf, laid it flat, and started pushing on its chest with both hands, quick, rhythmic compressions.
“Come on,” she said. “Come on, you stubborn thing. Breathe.”
Nothing.
“Breathe.”
The calf coughed, gasped, and drew in air.
Clara sat back hard, her hands covered in blood and birth fluid, and started crying. Not quiet tears, but real sobs that shook her whole body.
Caleb pulled her close without thinking. She collapsed against him, shaking.
“I couldn’t save them,” she said into his shirt. “My mother, my sister, I was right there and I couldn’t.”
“But you saved this one.” Caleb’s voice was rough. “You hear me, Clara? You saved this one.”
She cried harder. Caleb held her until the sobs quieted, until her breathing evened out.
“I’m sorry,” she said finally, pulling back.
“For what?”
“For falling apart.”
“You didn’t fall apart. You brought something back from the edge of death, and then you felt the weight of it. That’s not weakness, Clara. That’s being human.”
She looked at him, then really looked at him. “When did you get so wise?”
“About 5 minutes ago, when I watched you refuse to give up on something everyone else would have left for dead.”
The calf struggled to its feet, wobbly but alive. The heifer turned to nuzzle it.
“We did that,” Clara said softly.
“Yeah.” Caleb stood, offering her his hand. “We did.”
She took it and let him pull her up. She did not let go right away.
“Caleb.”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for not sending me away that first day.”
“Thank you for not going.”
Something passed between them, something neither of them was ready to name yet. Clara cleared her throat.
“We should check the other cattle. Make sure the storm didn’t cause more problems.”
“Clara—”
“Work first, talk later.”
She walked away before he could argue, but Caleb saw her wipe her eyes 1 more time before she reached the barn door.
2 days later Caleb woke to find Clara gone again, but this time her bedroll was cold. She had been gone for a while. He found her on the ridge overlooking the north pasture, standing perfectly still and staring at something in the distance.
“Clara.”
She held up a hand and did not turn. “How many cattle did you say you have?”
“About 200 head. Why?”
“Count them.”
Caleb scanned the pasture and started tallying. “187,” he said after a minute.
“We’re short. 13 head short.” Clara’s voice was ice. “And I know where they are.”
She pointed. Caleb followed her gaze to a distant ridge where dust was rising.
“Someone’s moving cattle,” he said.
“Not someone. Mercer.” Clara’s jaw set. “I saw 3 riders push your cattle over that ridge about 1 hour ago. I’ve been watching to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“Because I wanted to be certain before we did something we can’t take back.”
Caleb felt anger surge through him. “That son of a—”
“We need proof,” Clara cut him off. “Otherwise it’s our word against his, and he’s got more men and more influence in Helena.”
“So what do you suggest?”
Clara turned to face him. “We ride out there. We find those cattle. We check the brands. And if they’re yours, and we both know they are, we take them back.”
“That could start a range war.”
“Letting him steal from you guarantees it. He’s testing you, Caleb. Seeing if you’ll fight back. You don’t, and he’ll keep taking until there’s nothing left.”
She was right. Caleb knew it. But the thought of Clara caught in the middle of violence made his blood run cold.
“This is my problem,” he said. “You stay here.”
“No.”
“Clara—”
“No.” She stepped closer. “We’re partners. That was the deal. Partners don’t abandon each other when things get dangerous.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“And I’m trying to help you keep what’s yours. Now, we can stand here arguing until Mercer gets those cattle so far away we’ll never prove they were stolen, or we can saddle up and handle this.”
Caleb wanted to argue, wanted to lock her in the cabin and handle this alone. But looking at Clara’s face, set, determined, absolutely immovable, he knew she would never forgive him if he tried.
“All right,” he said. “But you follow my lead. No heroics.”
“Same to you.”
They rode out 15 minutes later. Clara brought her rifle and did not ask permission. They found Mercer’s men 3 mi north, pushing Caleb’s cattle toward a narrow canyon that led to Mercer’s property.
“Well,” Clara said quietly, “still think I was seeing things?”
“No.” Caleb’s hands tightened on his reins. “Stay close.”
They rode down fast. The 3 men saw them coming and stopped.
“Boon,” 1 of them called out. “Turn around. This doesn’t concern you.”
“Those are my cattle.”
The man laughed. “They’re on Mercer’s land now.”
“Because you drove them here.” Caleb’s voice was level, dangerous. “Turn them around now.”
“Or what? You going to take on 3 of us? You and your pretty wife?”
Clara spoke before Caleb could. “Those cattle have the Circle B brand. We can check every single 1 right here, right now. Or we can ride into Helena and let the sheriff do it. Your choice.”
“Sheriff’s 3 hours away, lady.”
“Then I guess you’ve got 3 hours to decide if stealing 13 head is worth federal prison time.”
“Who says we stole anything?”
“The brands say it, the timing says it, and the fact that you’re pushing them toward Mercer’s property instead of returning them says it.” Clara’s voice went hard. “So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to step aside. We’re going to take our cattle back. And you’re going to ride back to Mercer and tell him that if he wants a war, he just found one.”
The 3 men exchanged glances.
“Mercer’s not going to like this,” 1 of them said.
“I don’t care what Mercer likes.” Clara raised her rifle, not pointing it at anyone, just making it visible. “I care about what’s legal, and theft isn’t.”
For a long moment nobody moved. Then 1 of the men spat tobacco and turned his horse.
“Hell with this. I don’t get paid enough to get shot over 13 cows.”
The other 2 followed.
Caleb waited until they disappeared before he spoke. “That was stupid. Reckless.”
Clara lowered her rifle. Her hands were shaking again. “I know.”
“I was going to say brave.”
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