Free Cherished by Jill Gregory Page B

up your wages from
Dusty and get out.”
    “Sure thing, Mr. Breen,” Gil shot back hotly.
“I reckon Twin Oaks has gotten a mite odorous for my taste. Matter
of fact, the place stinks like a pig’s innards.” With that he
turned on his heel and marched off, and immediately spotted
Juliana. He motioned her out of sight in front of the barn, then
joined her with quick strides, saying tersely, “Can’t talk now, but
I’ve got something to tell you. Meet me over by Durham’s Creek.
Know where that is?”
    She shook her head, holding tight to
Columbine’s bridle.
    His face was still flushed with anger; his
usually merry eyes unnaturally bright and hard in the dazzling
sunshine. “Half a mile west of here—there’s a trail leading
straight to the creek bank. You’ll find it easy, there’s a stand of
willow, and some rocks piled up beside a yucca.” He helped her to
mount, glancing quickly over his shoulder. John Breen and Mueller
were walking in the opposite direction toward the cookhouse and
hadn’t noticed them. “Mount up now and git,” Gil whispered. “I’ll
be there directly.” She had no time to ask him any questions even
though she was bursting with them. But his grave expression was
enough to quell her curiosity for the moment, until she could be
sure no one was about.
    “You won’t be long?” was all she said as she
gathered up the reins.
    “Quicker’n a snake’s bite,” he replied with a
swift smile. He slapped the mare’s rump, and Columbine took off
with Juliana leaning low in the saddle. She didn’t look back,
didn’t see Gil heading toward his horse in the corral—and didn’t
see John Breen and Bart Mueller turn in time to notice her riding
away.
    It was hot in the sun when she reached the
creek. The water gurgled quietly beside the softly waving grasses
of pale green and yellow. High red rocks piled up beside a yucca
told her she was in the right place. The mountains rose beyond,
towering granite walls that shimmered in amethyst splendor beneath
the sun. Juliana dismounted and breathed a sigh of pleasure in the
solitude of this lonely, beauteous spot.
    From above came the sweet chirping of birds,
but otherwise it was quiet, save for the murmuring water and the
rustling of cottonwood leaves. The sky was so bright a blue, it
hurt her eyes to look at it, and she immediately unbuttoned the
bright red jacket of her riding habit and slipped it off, loosening
the gray silk neckerchief about her throat as well. Her white linen
blouse stuck damply to her skin, making her glance longingly at the
creek, but she had no time to splash water on her face, or even to
cup her hands and take a drink, for no sooner had she tethered
Columbine to a nearby cottonwood than a horse and rider charged
into the clearing. She hurried forward as Gil swung down from his
saddle.
    “Breen’s fired me,” he said without preamble.
“You heard that?”
    “Yes, I heard, but what I don’t understand,
Gil, is why? If there was some kind of mix-up ...”
    “There was no mix-up. He set it up
deliberately so I’d get the wrong orders from Mueller, and not show
up where I was needed. For some reason, he wants me off the
ranch.”
    Gil was looking at her oddly, squinting
beneath his hat, and Juliana suddenly remembered the night at the
party when Mueller had said something to John Breen and Breen had
immediately glanced over at Gil—that had happened right after she
and Gil had had a long conversation. The horrible thought that Gil
had been fired because of her made her blood turn cold.
    “Something strange has been going on with
Breen,” Gil went on with a shake of his head. “I’ve heard a lot of
rumors about him maybe gettin’ married. And all of the cowhands
have been ordered to stay away from the ranch house—and the
visitors.”
    Juliana felt the color draining from her
face. “So it’s true,” she whispered. “He’s made some arrangement
with my uncle—and he doesn’t want me to hear of it