1. Roping Gone Wrong
Chapter One
Circle C Ranch, California, Fall 1880
“Come back here, you pesky critter!” Twelve-year-old Andi Carter twirled her lariat over her head—once, twice, three times—and threw it with a mighty oof!
“That will teach you!” she yelled. “No calf can escape my rope.”
Apparently, the calf didn’t know Andi was an expert with a lasso. He shook his head, ducked, and slid out from under the loop. The rope hit the ground with a dusty thud.
“No!”
A chuckle pulled Andi from her failure. She turned the bay gelding around and faced the Circle C’s newest cowhand. Josh stood a dozen yards away, jumping back and forth through a huge, looped circle, performing all sorts of rodeo tricks.
Show off!
Catching Andi’s glare, Josh let the rope fall to his ankles. “It’s a pity how that calf escaped your rope, Miss Andi.” He gave her a two-fingered salute from the brim of his hat. “Better luck next time.”
Oh, the shame! Red-hot anger crept up her neck and exploded in her cheeks. What did this upstart young cowhand know about Andi’s lassoing skills? Why, just three years ago, she and Sky, her brother’s horse, had beat the time for calf roping in the Circle C’s rodeo competition.
Josh laughed at Andi’s furious expression and pointed to the calf. “Your calf is getting away. Shouldn’t you go after him before he escapes the yard? Lassoing takes practice. You’ll learn.”
Andi gripped Jingo’s reins to keep her fingers from shaking and seethed inside. If only she were riding Taffy! Her golden palomino would never let her down like Jingo just had.
Unfortunately, Taffy had stumbled over a gopher hole a week ago. “She needs to rest her leg for a good, long while,” Chad had instructed. “No riding. Let her stand around in her paddock until those tendons heal and the swelling goes down.”
“What about calf branding on Saturday?”
“You can ride Jingo,” Chad promised.
Small comfort.
However, Andi did not want to be left out of the fall branding. Chad promised she could brand any calf she flushed from the rangeland. “Jingo knows his business around cattle,” he assured her.
Ha! Andi thought, still sputtering at Josh’s teasing. Jingo and she did not make a good roping team, not like she and Taffy. No calf ever slipped by Taffy.
“You talk mighty big, Josh,” Andi finally managed to say without yelling. “I’ve seen your fancy rodeo tricks, but can you rope a calf?”
“I certainly can.”
“Betcha you can’t,” Andi shot back, “not unless the calf’s standing stock still six feet away and daring you to drop a loop over him.”
Josh let out a belly laugh. “You’ve got yourself a bet.”
When Andi stared at him blankly, he said, “We’re branding fall calves tomorrow, remember? Ain’t that why you’re up to your eyebrows practicing your roping skills?”
Andi didn’t answer.
“If you’ll partner with me to flush out those cows and calves,” Josh went on, “we’ll see who lassos best in the branding pens—a rodeo trick roper, or a half-grown ranch girl.” He flashed her a good-natured smile. “I apologize for teasing you. From what I saw, it appears you know at least the basics of roping.”
Andi bit back a furious reply, cleared her throat, and challenged, “What does the winner get?”
“If you win, I’ll do your chores for a whole week.”
Andi’s anger faded. Little did Josh know that even the seasoned Circle C hands acknowledged Andi’s rare skill with a lasso. She smirked. “And if you win?”
Josh pondered, scratched his chin, then grinned from ear to ear. “If I win, you’ll talk your sister into sittin’ on the porch swing with me and sharin’ a lemonade.”
Laughter bubbled up, but Andi choked it back. Melinda would never go along with Josh’s idea. Especially if she knew it was a silly wager involving calves and a lasso.
A comforting thought seeped into Andi’s mind. She had no intention of losing, so why should she fret about a “what if” as farfetched as Josh winning?
She nodded her agreement.
Josh covered the distance between them and raised a gloved hand. “Deal?”
“Deal.” Andi shook Josh’s hand, turned Jingo around, and took off at a gallop after the runaway calf.
Chapter Two
Andi glanced up at the early afternoon sky. The day was wasting, clouds hovered over the Sierra in the east, and she and Jingo had not yet come to an understanding.
With the boss’s okay, she and Josh had partnered early that morning. “Andi knows where the draws and gullies are,” Chad told his newest hand. “She won’t let you get lost.”
Andi had glowed under her brother’s praise, but she wasn’t glowing now. She was hot, tired, and frustrated beyond words. What on earth was wrong with Jingo? She was ready to call it quits with cows, calves, and cocky cowhands. “I’m so tired, I just want to go home,” she muttered.
“And lose the bet?” Josh dug into their grub sack and bit into a molasses cookie. “We have a couple more gullies to check before we drive what we’ve gathered to the branding pens.”
Andi scanned the golden, summer-dry range. The cows and calves they’d flushed out earlier today rested in the shade under several large oak trees. She sighed. No, she would not give up now. Once in the branding pens, she’d prove her roping skills. She just had to put up with Jingo—and Josh—for a little while longer.
“Why don’t we split up?” Josh suggested. “We’ll finish twice as fast. You head into that far gully”—he pointed to an opening a mile or so in the distance—“and I’ll take the one to the south. We’ll meet back here in a couple of hours and drive the whole herd to the pens.” He smiled. “Then we’ll see, won’t we?”
Andi’s resolve to win this challenge and make Josh eat his words from yesterday flooded her. “I’ll be making a mental list of your chores for next week.”
“You do that.” Josh mounted his horse, saluted, and galloped away.
Andi climbed into her saddle. Flushing cows and calves from their hidey holes in gullies was usually a straightforward task. Andi simply swung the rope coils to startle the beasts to their feet. Very rarely did she have to rope cows or calves to make them move.
Today, though, with Jingo as her mount, flushing cows took twice as long. The horse acted unfamiliar with Andi’s commands, and he had a stubborn mind of his own. He often went one way, when Andi clearly signaled him to go another.
Like now, Andi complained an hour later. She wound her rope into neat coils after another calf darted away from her lasso. Mama cow bellowed and lumbered after her youngster.
Panic seeped in. Had she lost her skills?
No! Roping a calf in the branding pen would show everyone Andi’s true abilities. She never missed her target in the crowded corral. “I’ll show Josh what’s what!” she hollered at the calf, furious with herself and with Jingo.
Mama cow passed close to Andi, swinging her horns to let Jingo’s rider know she was not happy with this abuse of her precious calf. Jingo hopped clear of the sharp horns, throwing Andi sideways.
“Yikes!” She gripped the gelding’s sides with her legs and clutched the saddle horn. Her rope fell away and trailed at her side. “Steady, boy. Whoa there.”
Jingo flicked his ears, snorted his impatience, and settled down.
By the time Andi recovered her rope and made it ready, the cow and calf were a hundred yards away and heading for a brushy area. “No!” Andi did not want to flush the pair from thick, prickly bushes.
“Go, Jingo!” She slammed her heels into her mount and rose up in the stirrups to keep a sharp eye on her targets. They were moving mighty fast.
Andi was faster. She caught up in less than five minutes and began circling her lariat over her head. Forget the calf. She would lasso the cow, dally the rope around her saddle horn, and let Jingo bring the beast to a bone-rattling stop.
Just then, Mama cow looked like she’d had enough of this game. In a heartbeat, she whirled and faced horse and rider. With her head down, she uttered a low, threatening mooo and waved her horns back and forth.
Andi yanked Jingo away from the horns. She dared not take on this angry cow, who right now was acting more like a bull. “We’ll circle around behind,” she told Jingo. “It will be easier to drive her than rope her.”
Jingo turned at Andi’s command, but the cow had other plans. Sensing her calf was in danger, she charged.
Jingo leaped away.
With a startled yelp, Andi slid halfway out of the saddle. She dropped the lasso and groped for the saddle horn but missed. Closing her eyes, she steeled herself for a hard fall, but her foot caught in the right stirrup.
She hung upside down, suspended over the saddle like a daring trick rider. The tips of her long, dark braids brushed the ground. Her hat bounced against her back, the stampede string biting into her neck.
“Ho, Jingo!” Andi shrieked. “Whoa!”
Taffy would have stopped on a dime, but Andi’s cry spurred Jingo into a panicked gallop. He carried his rider deeper into the rangeland, farther and farther from home.
Andi tried with all her might to reach the saddle horn. Her fingers scrabbled against the slippery leather. She gasped and fell back. It was no use. She wasn’t strong enough to pull herself back in the saddle, nor had she learned how to manage such a dangerous stunt. Chad and Mother did not allow Andi to trick ride.
Right now, she wished she’d learned.
Bouncing along with her weight pulling at it, the saddle began to slip. Andi dropped closer to the hard, rocky ground. She desperately tried to pull her boot free, but it was stuck fast.
How long until the saddle slipped completely beneath Jingo’s belly? How long before Andi found herself trampled under the horse’s pounding hooves? Please, God! Help me!
Just then, Jingo jumped a narrow gully. When he came down, the right stirrup flew up. Andi’s boot slipped from its leather trap. Free at last, she hit the ground.