keeping step with each other. “You don’t suppose they’ll trail us all the way to Hays, do you? Especially one of the females, for instance. Last thing I need is an adolescent runaway trailing after me.”
Luke shook his head. “Not a chance. Where one goes the others follow. Relax. You’re English and—”
“You’re a monkey’s uncle,” Jesse finished. “Why aren’t they going east? I thought they were visiting family out there or something.”
He shrugged. “I guess they changed their minds.” The less knowledge he claimed of the Switzers and their plans, the less likely he would get ribbed or lectured. The weight of Jesse’s accusing stare stepped on a nerve. “Haven’t you got work to do?”
“You know, we’re moving pretty slow today.” Jesse’s statement held a note of suspicion.
Luke slowly turned to face him. Now he was stepping on his last nerve. “We’re making good progress.”
“Could be making better.” Jesse held his gaze. “You’re not purposefully holding the herd back so that wagon can keep up, are you?”
The accusation sent an irritated flash through Luke like a lightning strike. Who was the trail boss on this drive, anyway? Friend or no friend, Jesse needed to learn how to keep to his proper place.
Luke turned and focused on the herd. “I’m not going to answer that. I don’t have to explain my decisions to anybody. If you don’t like the way I lead this cattle drive, then don’t sign on for my next one.”
Jesse must have heard the anger in his tone, or maybe he saw it in his face, because instead of flaring up, he jerked a nod. With a tug on the reins, he galloped back to his point position without another word.
Luke let his anger simmer a while. This was the problem with hiring friends. Jesse took liberties and the other men saw it. The result was a lack of respect for his position as trail boss. They talked too familiarly about him. One example was Griff telling Jesse about his visit to the Switzers’ campsite last night.
As soon as the thought entered his head, he knew it was unfair. How many cattle drives had he ridden? Plenty. And he couldn’t remember a single one where the men didn’t speculate over the boss’s actions and decisions. Even when he’d ridden under Pa’s leadership, the boys didn’t curb their talk because the boss’s son was sitting around the campfire. Days were long and lonely, and nights were for talking—about the boss, and each other, and any other subject that came up.
He turned and glanced behind him to the right, where Jesse rode. Luke had hired him partly because he was a good point rider, but mostly because he was a friend. He could be counted on to speak his mind, and if his opinions weren’t always impartial, at least they were thoughtful. Which meant he’d been thinking about Luke and the Switzers—or, more likely, Luke and Emma—and wouldn’t have made that accusation if he didn’t think there was a possibility that Luke was getting in deep water.
A bad joke, considering yesterday, but he laughed anyway. Then he sobered. Was that a possibility? Luke’s hand tightened on the reins as he searched his motives. Had he purposefully set a slower pace than he could have in order to keep that wagon in view? The reasons he’d come up with were true—the herd had run a few pounds off during that stampede, and he didn’t want to risk them losing any more weight. It also wasn’t wise to push a herd that had stampeded recently because of the risk of causing another blind run. He glanced backward and watched the lead cattle’s pace, which was nowhere near a run. It could even be called leisurely. Maybe even slow.
His gaze was drawn to the wagon behind them. Jonas had maintained his position, easily keeping up with the herd. Though they were too far away for him to see their faces, he clearly picked out Emma on her father’s right, for she sat taller than her sister on the other side. From this angle, he could see a flash of white from Mrs. Switzer’s kapp where she sat in her rocking chair in the back of the wagon.
Is Jesse right? Am I setting an easy pace so they can keep up?
He shrugged off guilt. He was doing what any man would do in his place. Any Christian man. After all he’d done to help them, he’d hate to see those outlaws come back and