The Rebellious Rancher. Kate Pearce

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      Silver just stared at him.

      “What?”

      “You poor little boy,” she blurted out.

      “Nothing poor or little about me.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Do you want to give the apple cores to the horses while I clean up?”

      * * *

      The fact that Silver felt sorry for him was still bugging Ben as they cut through the copse of trees and followed the line of the canyon wall around to the right. Sure, he’d cried himself to sleep a few times after his mother had left, but only because he was exhausted after completing the long list of chores his father laid on him every day after school. Ben was fairly certain there were laws about child labor, but Jeff hadn’t cared about such niceties.

      Silver was supposed to be the one with the issues, not him, but he’d let himself be railroaded into a discussion about his father, which would never end well because as much as he loved his old man, Jeff definitely had a few issues of his own....

      Ben was supposed to be keeping an eye on Silver, not the other way around. He’d gone through her saddlebags the first night when she was sleeping, feeling bad about it, but aware that he’d promised her father that she wouldn’t be smoking anything on his watch except jerky. He’d found nothing but makeup, skin care products, and silky underwear that had given him some great dreams.

      She didn’t seem jittery or anxious, and he was beginning to wonder exactly why Mr. Meadows had been so insistent that his daughter was using drugs. He’d promised the man that he wouldn’t mention the subject directly to Silver, which should probably have been his first warning. There was obviously a lot going on that he didn’t understand. Ben didn’t appreciate being stuck in the middle of another family’s drama. He’d had enough trouble dealing with his own.

      “Ben!”

      He turned his head sharply as Silver yelled from behind him. She was pointing at the sky. “What’s up?”

      “Look at that bird!”

      He grinned as a raptor flew by with a still-wriggling snake hanging from its beak.

      “Let’s hope he doesn’t drop it.” He squinted into the sun. “That’s a red-tailed hawk.”

      “How do you know?”

      “Because it’s my job to know,” Ben replied, glad to be back talking about something he could handle. “I’ve got a set of binoculars in my saddlebag if you want them.”

      “Maybe later.” Silver smiled at him. “I suspect I’d get nauseous if I tried to ride and stare upward at the same time. Are there a lot of raptors around here?”

      “Yeah, there’s even a pair of nesting condors on the canyon wall we’re heading toward.”

      “They’re rare, right?”

      “Very.” He shortened his reins. “You ready to move on? We’re going to camp by Morgan Creek for the night, and I want to get there before it’s too late.”

      He heard the sound of the water well before they reached the edge of the creek. They’d had a lot of rain recently and the creek level was rising, which would be good for the drier months ahead. There was still snow on the peaks of the Sierras, and one of the mountain passes wouldn’t be open until at least June, if not July. If the snowpack was good, the melted ice flow would eventually work its way down to their level and keep the valley blooming.

      He dismounted, tied up the mules and Calder, and beckoned for Silver to follow him. He led her through the trees to the rocky wall of the canyon and stood back. The ground was trembling beneath their feet and there was a peculiar muted booming sound.

      Ben pointed upward. “It’s cool, isn’t it?”

      Silver gasped as she looked up at the water pouring over the rocky, top ridge of the canyon and crashing down to the base with an almighty roar.

      “It’s incredible.” She had to raise her voice to be heard.

      “This is where we start calling it Morgan Creek,” Ben said. “It feeds the whole valley.”

      There was a deep pool of water under the fall and then a wide rock-filled riverbed along which the water meandered at varying speeds, swirling and crashing and reforming in an endless dance.

      “Is it safe to walk into?” Silver asked.

      Ben grinned down at her. “It’s safe enough to walk behind the waterfall. Wanna try it?”

      “Really?”

      “That’s why I wanted us to get here before it got dark.” He pointed at the bank. “Take off your boots, socks, and anything else you don’t want getting wet, and we’ll get going.”

      While Ben stripped down to his black T-shirt and jeans, Silver hurried to do as he suggested and then rolled up her jeans to her knees.

      “It’s going to be slippery,” Ben warned. “If you think you’re going to lose your balance, feel free to grab on to me.”

      She glanced at his muscled biceps and figured he’d probably be able to hold her up if he had to. He led the way along the path toward the waterfall and Silver was quickly enveloped in a damp mist that felt like she was in the middle of a cloud.

      He stopped on the edge of the creek and leaned down to talk directly in her ear.

      “We’re going to walk out along the flat piece of rock and then head toward the canyon wall, okay?”

      Silver nodded, and as he smiled down at her she noticed the absence of his cowboy hat, which now looked wrong.

      “Come on.” He reached for her hand. “It’s worth it.”

      He didn’t tow her along, but allowed her to pick her way through the boulders and slippery flat rocks at her own pace. The noise got louder and louder and the power of the water more immense the closer she got. She risked one more look up before she took a deep breath, gripped Ben’s fingers hard, and followed him into darkness.

      The water this close up sounded like the roar of a jet engine. She closed her eyes and trusted that Ben would lead her safely through. Her feet hit drier, pebbled ground and she went still.

      “Move in a bit more,” Ben said, “and open your eyes.”

      She did as he suggested, and just stared in stunned silence at the curtain of water rushing downward in front of her while she remained relatively dry and safe. Ben maneuvered her backward, pressed on her shoulder, and she sank down onto the bench someone had thoughtfully provided for visitors. The diffused light that managed to filter into the cave flickered and danced like a lace curtain billowing in the breeze.

      Ben sat beside her, his hard thigh aligned with hers, and she reached for his hand and just held it tight. He made no effort to speak or rush her out the other side. She again got that sense of how much a part of him this valley was, and how comfortable he was with its wonders.

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