“Money.”
“Bad answer.”
“My father drove cattle.”
“So naturally you decided to suffer same.”
“Yes.”
“Any wife?”
“No.”
“Children?”
“No.”
Henrietta looked up.
“Why?”
Caleb leaned back.
“I’m gone half year.”
“Women generally prefer husband who occasionally occupies same county.”
“Reasonable.”
Henrietta returned to dough.
Caleb watched her.
She felt gaze.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Do not become dishonest now.”
He looked toward fire.
“You are not what I expected.”
Henrietta’s hands stopped.
That sentence had hurt her before from other men.
Sometimes followed by “for woman your size.”
She waited.
Caleb seemed to understand.
He corrected.
“I expected somebody Jenkins hired because she was cheap.”
Henrietta looked at him.
“I was cheap.”
“No.”
“You were underpaid.”
The distinction landed differently.
He continued.
“I thought this job would beat you.”
“It still might.”
“Maybe.”
“But it hasn’t.”
Henrietta resumed kneading.
“Apology accepted.”
“I hadn’t finished.”
“You were doing well.”
“Stop while ahead.”
Caleb smiled.
Then:
“I also should have stopped Higgins on second day.”
Henrietta looked up.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
Specific.
Good.
She nodded.
“Accepted.”
That night lightning began in west.
By midnight, storm hit.
The herd stampeded at 1:17 in the morning.
Henrietta knew because she had been checking biscuits when the sound changed.
Not thunder.
Hooves.
Thousands.
Caleb shouted before she reached wagon opening.
“Stay with wagon!”
Henrietta almost yelled that she was not child.
Then realized he was telling everyone jobs, not ordering her specifically.
Riders mounted.
Men vanished into rain.
Henrietta secured goats, tied supply crates, banked fire, and waited.
The stampede lasted less than an hour.
Recovery lasted ten.
Men rode soaked through dawn and into afternoon collecting scattered cattle.
Two horses came back riderless.
Both riders later found alive.
Levi returned near noon shaking violently from cold despite summer storm.
Henrietta dragged blanket around him and put hot coffee into his hands.
By three, eight men were back.
Caleb was not.
Neither was Jasper.
Henrietta’s stomach tightened.
At four, Jasper rode in alone.
Mud across face.
Horse lathered.
“Where’s Caleb?”
Jasper dismounted.
“Last saw north.”
“Was he hurt?”
“No idea.”
Henrietta watched him.
Too calm.
Jasper looked toward wagon.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She stepped between him and supplies.
“You stay there.”
He laughed.
“You giving orders?”
“Yes.”
“You’re cook.”
“And you’re man without gun who lied about food.”
His smile disappeared.