It was the worst position on a drive, reserved for greenhorns and troublemakers, and Garrett had made it clear which category he thought they belonged to. Lyra coughed into her bandana, eyes watering. "This is hell." "This is the job," Cole said, keeping his horse steady as a stray cow tried to bolt. Kaya rode up beside them, her face already caked with dirt.
"How long does this last?" "Weeks, maybe longer, depending on how far we're going." "And we're doing this for free?" "For one week. Then we get paid like everyone else."
Sani appeared on Cole's other side, moving her horse with surprising ease. "The others don't like us." "They don't have to like us. They just have to not shoot us." By midday, the heat was brutal and the cattle were restless, kicking up dust that hung in the air like fog.
Cole's throat was raw, his eyes burning, and every muscle in his back screamed from staying in the saddle. The women didn't complain, but he could see the strain in their faces, the way they moved just a little slower, a little stiffer. One of the other drovers, a tall, lanky man named Briggs, rode past, smirking. "How's it feel, ladies?" he called out. Lyra gave him a look that could have curdled milk.
"How's it feel being an ass?" Briggs's smirk vanished. "Watch your mouth." "Or what?" "Or I'll watch it for you."
Cole nudged his horse between them. "We got a problem here?" Briggs sneered. "Yeah, your girlfriend's got a smart mouth." "She's not my girlfriend, and her mouth's her business."
"Then maybe you should teach her some manners." Cole's hand drifted toward his revolver, not fast, just enough to make a point. "Maybe you should ride on before I teach you something." Briggs stared at him, jaw working, then spat into the dirt and rode off. Lyra watched him go, shaking her head.
"Thanks," she said. "Don't thank me. Just don't start fights we can't finish." "I wasn't starting anything. He was."
"Doesn't matter who started it if we're the ones who end up dead." Lyra fell silent, but Cole could feel her frustration radiating like heat. He got it. He did. But out there, pride got people killed faster than bullets, and he didn't have the energy to explain that to someone who already knew.
The days blurred together after that. Wake before dawn, saddle up, ride until your body gave out, then do it again. The women learned fast, faster than Cole expected. Kaya had a natural instinct for reading the herd, anticipating which cow would bolt before it happened. Sani was steady, patient, never rushing, never panicking.
And Lyra, despite her sharp tongue, had hands that could work a rope like she'd been born doing it. By the end of the first week, even Garrett was starting to look impressed. "They're keeping up," he admitted one night, sitting across the fire from Cole. "Told you they would." "Doesn't mean I like it."
"You don't have to like it. You just have to pay them." Garrett grunted, sipped his coffee, and stared into the flames. "You know what's going to happen when word gets out I hired women, don't you?" "People will talk."
"People will laugh. And then they'll stop hiring me because they think I've gone soft." "Then don't tell them." "Hard to hide three women on a cattle drive, Mercer." Cole shrugged.
"Let them laugh. Long as the cattle get where they're going, what do you care?" Garrett didn't answer. He stood, tossed the rest of his coffee into the fire, and walked off into the darkness. Cole watched him go, then turned his attention back to the women who were sitting together on the far side of camp, talking quietly. They'd done it.
One week, no complaints, no failures. And now they'd proven Garrett wrong, proven Briggs wrong, proven everyone wrong. Cole should have felt satisfied. Instead, he felt uneasy. Because proving people wrong meant they'd stay.
Meant the debt would keep stretching week after week until Cole couldn't remember what it felt like to ride alone. And the worst part? He wasn't sure he minded anymore. The drive lasted six weeks, and by the end of it, Cole had almost forgotten what it felt like to sleep in a bed that didn't move.
They delivered the herd to a ranch outside Fort Dalton without losing more than a dozen head, and Garrett paid them in full. He even threw in a bonus for the women, though he grumbled the entire time. "Don't expect this to become a habit," Garrett said, counting out coins into Kaya's palm. "Wouldn't dream of it," she replied. Cole watched the exchange from where he leaned against a fence post, arms crossed, hat pulled low against the sun.
The women had earned their pay and then some. They'd worked harder than half the men on the crew, complained less, and handled every insult Briggs and his friends had thrown at them with a mix of sharp wit and cold silence that left the men looking like fools. Garrett finished paying out and turned to Cole. "You looking for more work?" "Maybe. Depends on what it is."
"Got a friend who runs a freight operation out of Coldwater Springs. Always needs guards for the wagon trains. Pays decent, and it's safer than driving cattle." "Safer how?" "Bandits mostly leave freight alone if you've got enough guns. Mostly."
Cole considered it. "I'll think about it." Garrett nodded, shook his hand, and walked off toward the ranch house. The rest of the crew was already scattering, some heading into town to drink away their wages, others mounting up to ride for the next job. Within an hour, the camp was empty except for Cole and the three women.
Lyra stretched, groaning as her spine popped. "I'm never sitting on a horse again." "You'll be back in the saddle tomorrow," Sani said. "Tomorrow I'm sleeping for three days straight." Kaya looked at Cole.
"What about Garrett's offer? Freight guard work?" "It's an option." "You don't sound excited." "I'm never excited."
Cole pushed off the fence post and started gathering his gear. "But it's steady pay, and steady's better than starving." "Then we're going?" Lyra asked. Cole stopped and turned to face them.