Font Size
Line Height

Page 38 of Huckleberry Hill (Saddles & Spurs #1)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The Ranch

The rain persisted and it went from a pleasant sprinkle to downright pouring. It was two days of slogging to the barn with wet boots, damp socks and scalding showers in the evenings in an attempt to get warm.

“We haven’t had this much rain at this time of year in five years,” Dad said, worry crossing his brow. “And we had a long winter with a lot of snow.”

Muddy took a sip of her coffee. “You’re thinking what I’m thinking . . .”

Dad nodded. “The southeast corner of the ranch is going to flood bad. I’ve been doing this long enough to recognize what’s coming.

The rain hasn’t let up and the snowpack is warming faster than the land can handle the water that’s coming down from the mountains.

The grazing land is a giant mud pit right now and the creek is swollen and getting deeper by the minute.

We’ve got to get the cattle to higher ground and move them to the northwest side of the ranch.

And we need to move fast. All hands on deck. It can’t wait any longer.”

I finished the last bit of my coffee and set my cup down. “Just tell me where to be.”

Declan nodded. “Goldie and Merlin are bonded at this point. I’ll ride with Hadley so the horses stay calm. Just put us where you want us.”

“Declan, I need you to get the boys together. We need a plan. We have way too many cattle for the number of hands, and conditions are already bad,” Dad said.

“We can only cross at the rocky portion of the creek without losing cattle. If we try to cross too far up stream where it’s deep and muddy they’ll get stuck in the muck and freeze and drown.

I’ll call Clint and Max and ask for their help.

If they can come we just might be able to move the whole herd at once.

And I need to call Jane and her team and let them know we’re forcing the cattle across the creek. ”

I wisely held my tongue when he mentioned calling Jane. Yes, she was a vet and we needed a vet in case the animals were stressed or injured, but I wondered if he wanted to have a personal reason to call her.

“I’ll get changed,” I said. “I just hope I can find my waterproof clothes.”

“I’ll help you piece an outfit together,” Muddy said. “And I’ll get the walkie-talkies and make sure they all work.”

“Thanks,” Dad said. “And you’ll?—”

“Hold down the fort here,” she said.

I looked at Declan. “Tempest. I don’t want her to be alone.”

“Bring her here,” Muddy said. “She can keep me company.”

“If that goat pisses in this house, you’re cleaning it up,” Dad warned me.

“She’s slept the last two nights on the bed without a problem,” Declan announced. “She’s smart.”

Dad looked at Declan and then to me.

“What?” I demanded. “You got me a pet goat. Was I not supposed to potty train her?”

“Fair enough. Declan, let’s get the boys together and make this plan.”

Dad and Josiah took the lead of the herd.

They’d set the pace and ensure the cattle would follow.

Henry, along with several other ranch hands, would flank as many cattle from the herd as they could at one time and keep them moving.

Declan and I would be the drag riders. We’d watch out for injured animals and calves getting separated.

A few swing riders from the neighboring ranches would join us, moving between the flank and drag riders, going where they were needed and steering the herd.

We were all seasoned, which was why I was on horseback in the rain with a bunch of men who did it for a living. Our walkie-talkies were clipped to our rain slickers and the volume turned up to max.

Between the calls of cowboys, the din of heavy rain, and the fearful mooing of the cattle, it was a struggle to hear much of anything. We relied on hand signals and motions for a lot of communication. Every now and again, Dad would come through on the walkie with instructions.

I’d done this once before, several years ago.

Salem had stayed behind with Muddy. So much had changed in a short of amount of time and yet some things would always stay the same.

I’d always lend a hand on the ranch; I’d always climb on horseback or get myself dirty. I didn’t care. I loved this life.

The herd crossed the rocky creek bottom one by one as the team worked to move them to high ground. There were a few stragglers from the herd, but we urged them on.

Things were going well, and it wasn’t until Declan and I got to the rocky crossing area of the swollen creek that we had our first problem.

The water in the creek was moving fast and had washed out many feet on either side of what was usually a calm, foot-deep crossing.

Now, banks were forming on either side as the earth washed away and the water carved out a deep trench in the ground.

The creek was raging, seeming much more like an angry river, and I knew we didn’t have much time to finish crossing.

A lone bull calf got caught in the swift current as it tried to follow its mother across and nearly lost its footing, but Declan roped him and safely led him across the water to the other side.

When he hit the bank, the calf shook himself uselessly in the pouring rain and then trotted to catch up to his mother.

The sky was nearly black with steady, dark clouds. Thunder boomed, lightning flashed; rain marred my vision.

Goldie needed no urging—Merlin was already on the other side of the river, and she was determined to get to him.

She splashed into the river but took a slight turn to the left, veering away from the path the rest of the animals had used to cross.

The water swirled around Goldie’s knees and then rose higher as she sank into the muddy bottom.

But she was a steady girl and kept a good pace despite the rush of the current and the suction of the ground beneath her.

She was three quarters of the way across the river when a hoof caught on something and she lost her balance.

She tossed her head and attempted to regain her stance, but she was unable to move forward. Despite my urging, she came to a halt.

She tossed her head again and neighed in distress.

I looked across the river to see Declan about ten feet away from the bank. He saw me and raised his hand over his head and then I heard through the walkie, “What’s wrong?”

I pressed my walkie button. “She’s stuck, I think. I need to get down and see what’s going on.”

“Wait, I’ll be right there.”

But I couldn’t wait. The river was starting to rise. Even though we’d been immobile for just a moment, the water had started to froth and the current was picking up speed.

Flash flood. Fuck.

I swung my leg over the saddle and gingerly felt for the bottom of the river. The water came up to my crotch and it was ice cold. I held on to Goldie’s harness as I got my footing, and then I leaned over. I stole a hand down her left leg and delved into the river.

Something poked me through the tip of my glove.

I cursed.

I guessed it was barbed wire from a fence post that had been pulled lose.

“Hadley!” Declan called from the bank. “What the hell are you doing?”

“She’s stuck!” I yelled back. “The water’s rising fast—I think it’s a flash flood! We have to get her out!”

Declan kicked his spurs and rode back into the river toward me as fast as Merlin could take him. He got near me and dismounted.

“Hadley, get back on your horse. I’ll get her free.”

“No! I’ve got this,” I said as Declan grabbed Goldie’s bridle to steady her.

I reached into my saddlebag for my fence pliers.

I bent over, feeling my way around the barbed wire, and made a cut.

When nothing happened, I felt around farther and realized it was attached to a fence post just beneath the water’s surface.

I ran my hand down Goldie’s leg for the wire that was still holding her and made another cut, and when Goldie realized she was free, she took a step toward Merlin.

In her haste to get out of the river, she knocked into me.

I dropped the fence pliers and lost my balance. I fell into the water and the force of the current pushed me directly into the fence post beneath the surface. All the air left my lungs.

“Hadley!” Declan yelled.

My head went under water.

The shock of the freezing current momentarily stupefied me, but my brain forced my limbs to work—they pumped and my legs kicked and I broke free from the river and rose to the surface.

I was being carried away. I attempted to swim toward the bank, but my side burned in agony.

“Declan!” I cried out, praying he’d hear me over the rushing water and pouring rain.

My head bobbed up and down as I tried to regain my footing, and through the slanted rain I could see Declan on Merlin’s back galloping along the bank. He had his rope out and he was building a loop over his head, preparing to throw. When he was close enough, Declan threw the rope.

It missed the mark, but my fingers touched it briefly before I was pulled under again.

I broke the surface, sputtering and coughing, and that’s when Declan’s second throw caught me. He dallied the rope to the saddle horn to slow me down and I began to tread water as I was being pulled to the bank by Merlin.

As I got to the edge of the creek, Declan dismounted and ran toward me. I thought about attempting to stand, but my body was cold and I was injured.

He waded into the shallow water toward me. I could tell he wanted to go faster, but if he lost his footing, the raging creek would just sweep him away too.

My heart pounded in relief when his arms came around me.

I cried out in pain.

“Hadley! Are you okay?”

“No—my ribs—” I gasped.

“Hang on to me, okay? Whatever you do, don’t let go.”

My arms wrapped around his neck and my legs around his waist. He waded us out of the water as he carried me, and I clung to him with all my might.

We finally made it to solid ground, and Declan set me down.

He kissed my wet cheeks, my wet forehead, my wet lips.

“You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. You’re okay.” He repeated it like a mantra, an affirmation for him to believe.

“I’ll be okay,” I chattered. “But I’m so cold . . .”