Free Soiled Dove by Brenda Adcock Page A

down,” Ino said, shaking his shaggy head.
    “Then I want anyone who touches it shot! We’ve worked too goddamn hard to get this ranch to the brink of paying for itself without having some Johnny-come-lately think he can take it away without a fight. I won’t let an asshole like Garner stop us now.” Her eyes hardened with determination. She was no longer the woman she had been when she first came to the Colorado Territory twenty years earlier.
    EARLY THE FOLLOWING morning Clare waited patiently astride her horse as Ino gripped his saddle horn and swung his thin, but well-muscled body easily onto his horse’s broad back. Nearly fifty, Ino Valdez was a Mexican vaquero who had accidentally wandered into Clare’s life. Then, like a stray cat, he simply decided to stay. He worked hard and rarely complained. She glanced over her shoulder at Caleb and Zeke Ramsey. They were young, but had stayed through the last winter and proved they, too, were willing to work hard, and endure her cooking. She had already sent the Burress cousins, Hall and Dewey, to ride the fence line between her property and the Garner spread, looking for breaks. Seldom did a day pass without at least two or three breaks in her fence line. She was certain the Garners were responsible, but had never actually caught them cutting the wire. Clare moved the reins on her horse to lead the small group away from the compacted dirt that served as the ranch house front yard.
    Every spring a few head of cattle had to be driven into the upper meadow to join the main herd. Clare and her hands spent most of the winter riding to the meadows in the higher elevations to bring strays back down the mountain to the lower meadows. Not being the brightest animals on God’s green earth, they would die if caught in a sudden snowfall. They would stand in a field of snow covered grass and never use their heads to uncover the grass beneath the way buffalo did and had no clue the snow itself could save them from dying of dehydration. In the spring, when calving began in earnest, the higher elevations would come alive with wildlife. Rising temperatures and the appearance of still wobbly calves usually meant Clare would lose a few of her herd to wolves or mountain lions looking for an easy kill. The busiest months were just beginning.
    In the hazy gray-blue early dawn, the four riders slowly made their way into the foothills of the Sangre de Cristos in search of wayward animals. The cowboys settled into a familiar and easy conversation as they rode toward the meadows overlooking the ranch. Clare rode silently, as she always did. There was work to be done and it never seemed to lessen.
    Even though her men worked hard for their meager pay, she knew it was nothing more than a paycheck to most of them. The ranch was her life and she protected it as fiercely as a parent would a child.
    Clare spotted two small clusters of cattle. She stood up in her stirrups and looked over her shoulder.
    She noticed Ino slumping forward slightly in his saddle.
    “Ino! Quit day dreamin’! You and Zeke get that steer over there!” she ordered. “Caleb, with me.”
    Ino and Zeke reined their horses to the right and trotted toward the wayward animal while grabbing the ropes from their saddles. The steer was a big animal and ignored the two men as they approached.
    Ino slapped his rope against his leg and leaned down near the steer, making a clicking sound with his tongue to get him moving. The steer wasn’t impressed and resumed its slow grazing. Zeke laughed as he let a portion of his lariat out and swung it around, striking the steer’s hind quarters with a snap.
    Clare and Caleb encircled three heifers they’d located on the far side of the hill and encouraged them back on course by slapping their ropes against the chaps covering their legs. Clare smiled and pointed toward Ino and Zeke. “Looks like they have a problem,” she said.
    Clare heard Ino’s voice as he prodded the stubborn animal to