Chasing the Sun Read Online Free Page B

Sister Maria Elena. “Let me help you down, miss—ma’am, I mean Sister—heck, I don’t know what to call you.”
    “Sister is fine. Or Elena. Do we walk the rest of the way?” she asked once he’d lowered her carefully to the ground. She hoped not. They were still at least fifteen miles from the ranch house.
    “No, ma’am—er, Sister. We can ride, or I can send for a wagon.”
    Knowing her hip wouldn’t tolerate a jaunt on horseback, she chose to wait for the wagon.
    After sending the boy, a blond, gangly young man Sister Maria Elena didn’t recognize, back to the house to fetch it, Langley pulled her small carpetbag from behind the seat.
    “I was paid to take her to the house,” the driver argued. “And I ain’t giving no refunds.”
    Langley set down the bag, picked up his rifle, and looked at him. “No?”
    The other ranch hand moved up behind him, his rifle held loose but ready in his hands.
    The driver cleared his throat. “Well, maybe this one time, seeing as she’s a holy person and all.” Digging through his vest pocket, he separated several coins from a sticky wad of tobacco and handed them over. “And I was told to give you this.” Bending, he retrieved a string-tied bundle of mail from under the seat.
    Langley took it and passed it on to the other ranch hand. “Any sick horses in Val Rosa?” he asked, turning back to the driver.
    “Some.”
    “How ’bout this one?” Langley nodded at the roan hitched to the buggy.
    “Nothing so far.”
    “Stable him with any sick ones?”
    “Hell no.”
    Langley stepped back. “Move on, then. And tell folks in Val Rosa that RosaRoja is under quarantine. No horses in, no horses out, and any that come through without our brand, we’ll shoot.”
    The driver looked surprised. “You posting guards around the whole ranch? Must be a hundred square miles.”
    “Hundred and thirty-five, give or take.”
    “Jesus. How many men does this outfit have?”
    Langley allowed a tight smile. “Enough. Have a nice trip.”

    BRADY WILKINS AND HIS THREE-YEAR-OLD ADOPTED SON, Ben, were standing outside the foaling pen watching Brady’s brother, Hank, coax a shy foal into the world when Amos Logan rode in with news that there was a visitor at the boundary line and he needed a wagon to go get her.
    “Hellfire,” Ben said, earning a halfhearted warning look from his father. Brady didn’t mind a little cussing now and again. But his wife wasn’t so tolerant.
    “Her?” Brady kept his voice low so it wouldn’t disturb the laboring mare.
    Amos nodded vigorously. “Didn’t catch her name, but Langley seemed to know her. Came in a hired buggy. From Val Rosa, I think.”
    “Did the horse look sound?”
    “No runny nose and it wasn’t coughing or nothing.”
    Brady tugged at his mustache as he thought it over. “Go get her then. And since it’s a woman, take Jessica’s big carriage.”
    After Amos headed into the barn, Ben trailing after him, Brady turned back to see the foal’s front hooves protruding from the birth canal. Hank continued to murmur reassurance to the mare as she shuddered and heaved with birth cramps.
    “Your wife should be out here helping,” Brady said.
    Hank didn’t respond. But then, he rarely did.
    “She’s a nurse, after all,” Brady added.
    “A human nurse.”
    “I know she’s human.”
    The mare lay panting, her distended belly bunching and rolling as her body worked to expel the foal. The air smelled of hay and manure and sweating horse.
    “I’m just saying if she can bring my twins into the world, she ought to be able to help this mare. I mean, how hard can it be?”
    Hank sent him a smirk. “Why don’t you ask your wife that?”
    “Still.”
    The mare tried to sit up. Hank stroked her neck until she relaxed again.
    Brady admired his brother’s way with animals. Children too. Being as big as he was, Hank cultivated a gentle touch with anything small and helpless, probably knowing he could do real damage if he wasn’t