Free Cowboy PI by Jean Barrett

was a moment of silence while they considered the problem. It ended when Samantha said carelessly, “I’ll be responsible for her.”
    The men stared at her in disbelief. Samantha was as surprised as they were. What had possessed her to make such a startling offer? But she knew the answer to thatquestion. Guilt. Guilt and a feeling of uselessness. They had expected nothing of her. She was simply there because she had to be there, and they had accepted that.
    She had accepted it herself. But she was tired of being helpless, of watching them do all the work while she trailed after them on Dolly’s back, of no value to either them or herself.
    Shep cleared his throat. “I don’t think—”
    “Damn it,” she cut him off, squaring her shoulders with determination. “I can look after one heifer, can’t I?”
    “I think we should let her,” Roark said, and there was a note of pride in his voice that warmed Samantha like a comforting glow.
    The trail boss shrugged. “All right,” he agreed. “She’s all yours, Sam.”
    In the half hour that followed, Samantha had cause to regret the mission for which she had so readily volunteered. How much trouble could one young cow be? she had asked herself. Plenty, she learned as she played hide-and-seek with the heifer around a pile of boulders, chased her out of a deep hollow and freed her from a juniper thicket in which she had trapped herself.
    It wasn’t that the animal was mean tempered. She simply had difficulty understanding why she should keep on the move when there were so many fascinating things to investigate. Samantha could sympathize with her reluctance, which was probably why, with a combination of coaxing and scolding, she began to achieve a measure of success with her charge.
    “I think Irma is going to be all right,” she reported happily to Roark. “Only one detour since that incident at the creek.”
    Roark stared at her. “ Irma? You’ve gone and called a cow Irma? ”
    “I got tired of using cuss words.”
    “Samantha, drovers don’t make pets of their cattle.”
    “What pet? She isn’t a pet. It’s just that she needed aname and ‘Irma’ seemed to fit. Really, Roark, she does respond better with a name. Well, that and a little patience.”
    “Heaven help us, she’s gone and bonded with a beef!”
    Let him tease her, Samantha thought. What could it hurt to be fond of a little heifer, particularly when it made her feel less anxious about this drive? And able, for the first time, to appreciate its setting.
    Until now she’d been so concerned with staying on her horse and managing the heifer that she hadn’t spared a moment for her surroundings. And they deserved her attention.
    The land over which they were traveling was a narrow, lush park located between two long mountain ranges. Maple and oak trees, flaming with autumn colors, rimmed the grassy valley. On the slopes behind them were the forests of quaking aspen, their foliage masses of radiant gold. Higher still were the dark ranks of spruce and fir. And above it all the majestic Colorado peaks under a luminous blue sky.
    From time to time, Samantha caught glimpses of wildlife—a red-tailed hawk, elk, even what might have been a bighorn sheep, though it was so far away she couldn’t be sure. But she was certain of the horse she spotted.
    There was a high ridge that paralleled their route, sometimes open and in other places wooded with the aspens. The horse was on that ridge, and it wasn’t alone. A rider was on its back.
    At first Samantha thought nothing about the distant figure. There was no reason someone shouldn’t be up there. She forgot about him when he vanished into the aspens. But then he emerged on the other side of the grove. After that, though she lost sight of him again and again, he never failed to reappear, always moving abreast of them along the ridge. By then she had the uneasy feeling that the presence of the rider was no coincidence.
    After checking on Irma to be sure