Reseña del libro "The Storm (Clay Brentwood) (en Inglés)"
Rancher turned Texas Ranger Clay Brentwood takes on a routine assignment escorting a prisoner from the Dallas jail to the prison in Canon City, Colorado. He's looking forward to an easy job, and then settling down for a bit. At least that’s the way he had it figured. What he hadn’t considered was how plans could change in a heartbeat, bringing him closer to deaths door than he ever wanted to be. Excerpt from Book 5: The StormIt was late afternoon of the first day and they were still several miles inside the Kansas border, when Clay found a place to camp for the night, near a small lake that would provide enough water for the herd. They would have to camp out in the open, but the weather was decent enough so that it shouldn’t be a problem. By tomorrow noontime, they should reach the Panhandle of Oklahoma where water was scarce. Clay didn’t want to push the herd too hard. He wanted them in good shape because it would be at least two more days before they could reach the Cimarron River and cattle don’t travel well without water.He figured they would lose a little weight during the three-hundred-and-fifty-mile drive, but once they got to his land, it wouldn’t take them long to put the weight back on. The White River ran through his property with several small tributaries, and there was plenty of tall grass. The cattle weren’t used to walking all day and were more than ready to settle down for the night when the time came. No one knew how Mrs. McIntyre did it, but that evening for supper, they feasted on corned beef and cabbage with soda bread and large slabs of butter, and blackberry pie. She’d seen some blackberries growing wild and since the herd was moving slow, she’d stopped and picked enough for six pies. “Ya know, boss,” Riley, a tall young man from Texas, said, “if this is the way we’re gonna eat, I don’t reckon you’ll ever be wantin’ fer hands. Women or not, this is the best trail drive I’ve ever been on, and if my work suits ya, I’ll be stayin’ on when we get to yer ranch.” Riley was young, just seventeen, but he’d been around cattle drives most of his young life and he knew his business. Clay was lucky to have him. Young he might be, but Clay was guessing the young man would ride for the brand, should trouble arise. Clay looked out across the herd and watched as his men worked the cattle. There was a mixture of ages, which was good as far as he was concerned. The men new to this kind of work would learn from the more experienced riders. Colleen blushed and waved the end of her apron at him. “Ah, go on with ya now. You and yer silver tongue. Ah man works hard, he needs ah good meal, that’s all.”Bert took his slice of blackberry pie and backed away, saying, “Yes ma’am. Whatever you say, ma’am.”After the evening meal, Cindy brought out her guitar and sat on the tailgate of the wagon and to everyone’s surprise, began to strum a slow, song of home. Then she began to sing and as if by magic, the cattle settled down. Singing was what cowboys did while riding night herd to help keep the cattle calm, but none of them had a voice as soothing as Cindy McIntyre.Clay had just poured himself a cup of coffee and was enjoying Cindy’s singing, when a young man came riding up to the camp and got down. He took a double take when he saw the two women, then spied Clay and walked up to him. “Mister Brentwood?”Clay smiled. He was just a boy, no more than fourteen and dressed in town clothes. “Sorry son, but I got all the wranglers I need. The boy grinned. “I’m not a cowboy, sir. I’m Ben Masterson and I work for the railroad. I’m training to be a telegraph operator.”
