Authors: Texas Destiny
Lorraine Heath (12 page)
She eased down, and he wrapped his hands around her waist. She could feel the trembling in his fingers, feel her own body shaking. She collapsed against him and listened to the pounding of his heart.
“That was incredible,” she said on an escaping breath.
“Yeah, it was,” he said quietly as he led her back to the remains of their campfire.
She sat on the ground and watched as he worked to bring the fire back to life. “That last horse … I’ve never seen a horse the color of the moon,” she said in awe.
“Palomino. That shade of coloring is called palomino.”
“She was beautiful.”
“He.”
She scooted toward Houston. “He? How could you tell?”
“The pride in the way he held himself. And the fact that he was last. That was his band of mares.”
“I always expected the stallion to be the fastest. He couldn’t even keep up with the others.”
Houston chuckled low. “He’s fast. He was putting himself between the mares and danger. The first horse that came through would have been his favored mare. She’s the fastest, strongest, probably the smartest of his brood.”
As the fire began to crackle, he gazed into the darkness where the retreating mustangs had disappeared. She sensed a wistfulness about him, as though he wished he could have galloped along beside them.
The mules and Sorrel had moved out of harm’s way. As they meandered back to camp, Houston secured them for the night. He was quiet, contemplative when he rejoined her by the fire, lay down beside her, and took her into his arms.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
His hold on her tightened. “The beauty of those mustangs.”
“Who do you think they belong to?”
“The land. Right now, they just belong to the land. They’re wild and they’re free.”
“Are you going to capture them?”
“Nah, I need to get you to Dallas.” His voice reflected mourning, loss.
“Will you come back for them?”
“Might. Wild mustangs usually stay in the same area for a while.”
“And if they move on before you get back here?”
He shrugged as much as he was able with her in his arms. “There’ll be others.”
She lifted up on an elbow and met his gaze. “You told me once that the wild ones are becoming rare, that’s why you’re breeding them. If I wasn’t here, would you take the time to capture them?”
“If you weren’t here, I wouldn’t be here. I never would have left my place, never would have seen them, never would have known they existed … so I never would have had them anyway.”
She smiled and touched his rough jaw. “But I am here, and you do know they exist. When you left the ranch for Fort Worth, did anything slow you down?”
He furrowed his brow. “No.”
“And yet going back, we’ve had one mishap—”
He chuckled low. “Mishap?”
“All right. We’ve had one catastrophe after another. Maybe these horses are your destiny, are the reason this journey has been so difficult. They’ll give you fine horses to raise. How can you leave without at least trying to capture them?”
She thought he might have shoved her aside if she wasn’t wrapped so snugly within his duster.
“We’ve lost too much time already.” He pressed her face into his shoulder. “Go to sleep.”
“Then I’m grateful for every incident that slowed us down. Just seeing those magnificent horses was worth it. Don’t you agree?”
Silence was his answer. She wondered if he’d wanted other things in his life, but had put his desires aside in favor of someone else’s. A horse’s whinny broke through the silence. Beneath her cheek, Houston’s heart thudded rapidly.
“Do you think that’s him?” she whispered.
“Yep.”
“And you’re going to let him go?”
“Amelia?” She heard the frustration in his voice. “It’s not like I’ll ride out and rope him and be done with it. Capturing mustangs the way I do is slow goin’.”
She came back up on her elbow. “How do you capture them?”
He sighed deeply. “I become one of them.”
A warm smile crept over her face. “I’d love to see that.”
“Well, you’re not gonna. I need to get you to Dallas. Now go to sleep.”
She snuggled back against him. “What color did you say he was?”
“Palomino.”
“And the first horse that ran through, his favorite mare was the same color, wasn’t she?”
“Yep.”
“And their manes looked silver in the moonlight.”
“They were silver.”
“They ran so incredibly fast. Have you ever seen horses run that fast?” He held his silence.
“I like the way he threw his head back—”
“You’re aggravating, you know that? I’m trying to forget I ever saw them, and you won’t stop talkin’ about them.”
“If you don’t capture them while we’re here, you might lose them forever.” She rose back onto her elbow and cradled his unshaven cheek in her hand. “Sometimes, we only get one chance to realize our dreams.”
He threaded his fingers through her hair, holding her face immobile. “I don’t deserve dreams,” he growled through gritted teeth.
“Everyone deserves a dream. Dallas wants a son. Our staying here a couple of more days won’t stop him from obtaining what he desires. Your dream is to raise horses. Don’t let Dallas’s dream overshadow yours. Yours is just as important. Those horses could be part of it.” She placed her hand over his. He turned his palm, intertwined his fingers with hers, and brought the back of her hand to his lips.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said, his voice taut.
She heard the palomino stallion whinny in the far distance. “I’m pledged to your brother, but that doesn’t mean I’ve closed my heart to other dreams. If I’m with you when you capture the horses, then I’ll become part of your dream as well. And years from now, someone will ride a magnificent palomino horse because we dared to reach for the dream … and we’ll be remembered.”
H
ouston had never considered his desire to raise horses as a dream, but he supposed that it was. He always found a measure of peace when he worked with the mustangs, perhaps because he knew what it was to have one’s spirit broken, to be beaten down, and to be left feeling worthless. As a result, he worked damn hard not to break the horse’s spirit.
Some horses, like the black mustang Dallas had tried to break, simply couldn’t be broken. They were too proud or just too ornery, much as his older brother was. He figured his father had recognized that stubborn trait in Dallas and realized that he couldn’t be broken so he’d never tried to bend him to his will. He’d accepted him as he was.
Houston, though, had been another matter. He’d have gladly given his life if just once his father had looked at him with pride reflected in his eyes, but then he had to admit that he’d probably never given his father cause to feel pride toward him.
He glanced around the small boxed canyon. The mustangs could drink at the pond nestled in the corner and rest after the chase until he was ready to take them out. He wouldn’t have enough rope to take them all, but he’d take the best. The stallion, his favored mare, and any others he thought would be worth his time. The remaining horses he’d let run free.
Wiping his brow, he watched the woman who wanted to be part of his dream, her fingers nimbly uncoiling a thick rope so he could wrap the individual strands around the tree limbs he had gathered. He didn’t dare tell her that she was already in his dreams, those he had at night while he held her in his arms, those that would never become reality.
He would never wake up with her in his bed. He wouldn’t grow old holding her hand. He would never see her eyes darken with passion. He would never tell her that he loved her.
He could only hope that Dallas’s dreams would extend beyond wanting a son once he met Amelia. That he would cherish her as Houston wanted to.
He didn’t think Dallas could avoid falling in love with Amelia. Her grit would appeal to his brother. Houston had dragged her through three weeks of hell, and she hadn’t complained once. She’d make Dallas one hell of a wife.
Bending, he began to crisscross the sturdy limbs one over the other until they resembled a lengthy checkerboard. When Amelia finished her task, he would tie the branches tightly together at every juncture where they met to form a “T.” The opening to the canyon was small enough that his makeshift gate would cover it. He’d secure one side of the gate to one side of the opening in such a way that Amelia could easily swing it across to block off the canyon once he’d brought the horses here.
He was probably insane to try and capture the horses with the few provisions he had and a woman at his side. Austin had been with him before when he’d captured wild mustangs, staying on the perimeter while Houston infiltrated the herd. He wouldn’t have that luxury this time. He wouldn’t leave Amelia to fend for herself, although he imagined she was capable of it, but time was running out. He’d only have her to himself for a little while longer … and then he wouldn’t have her at all.
Dawn arrived. Amelia had slept little, the prospect of watching the horses race into the enclosure filling her with excitement.
Houston had doused the fire as soon as they’d finished eating breakfast. She watched him now as he readied the camp for his departure, her anticipation mounting. He placed a rope halter he’d fashioned on Sorrel. He dropped to the ground and removed his boots and socks before pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it on top of his duster.
He turned to face her, and she balled her hands into fists to prevent them from reaching out to touch the hardened contours of his body. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”
“Not long. Today, I just need to find them.” He walked across the small expanse separating them and took her hand. “We need to talk.”
Her breath caught. At that moment, she needed a kiss. Lord, she needed a kiss. She fought to keep her gaze locked onto his, her hands from trailing along the scars on his shoulder and chest. She licked her lips.
“I want you to come with me, but I need you to understand what I’m asking. I’m leaving everything here but my revolver, my trousers, and a canteen. I want the mustangs to get used to my smell; the less I have, the less they have to get used to. I’ll stay with them until they trust me enough to follow me. I’ll sneak away at night to get food and water. I’ll bed down where they do. If they take it into their heads to stampede … I’ll do all I can to protect you, but it might not be enough.” He released her hand and started to pace. “Hell, this was a stupid idea. I can’t leave you and I can’t take you with me. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking. If Dallas knew what I was thinking, he’d have my hide.”
“I want to go.”
He stopped pacing and stared at her. “This ain’t no buggy ride.”
She wrapped her arms around herself to keep the excitement from carrying her to the clouds. “We’re going to ride with the herd? Become part of the herd? This is something I’ll share with my grandchildren.” She dropped to the ground and began to remove her shoes. He knelt beside her, placed her foot in his lap, and worked her shoe off.
“If something happens—”
“Nothing is going to happen.” She hopped up and carefully placed her shoes alongside his boots; the action couldn’t have felt more intimate if she’d done it in a bedroom that only the two of them shared. She whipped off his hat.
“Keep the hat on,” he ordered.
She spun around. He had already mounted Sorrel. “We’re not likely to find much shade.”
She settled his hat back in place, grateful that he hadn’t wanted her to leave it behind. She would have hated for a raccoon to cart it away.
“Climb on that rock,” he said.
He eased the horse over and held out his hand. She slipped her hand into his, using his arm for support as she threw a leg over the horse’s back and scrambled into place. She wrapped her arms around Houston’s bare chest and pressed her face against his broad back.
The world seemed more beautiful than it had the day before; the leaves were just beginning to turn golden and a briskness to the air promised cooler weather would return. They rode in silence for several hours, Houston studying the ground and the terrain. She could have easily drifted off to sleep with him as her pillow. She wondered if Dallas’s back would be this broad, this smooth, this warm.
Houston tensed beneath her cheek and drew the horse to a halt. “There they are.”
Leaning to the side, she peered around him. The mustangs grazed in the open.
Houston prodded Sorrel forward. Amelia was certain the pounding of her heart would drive the horses away. They neared the herd. The stallion lifted his head, eyed them warily, released a shrieking neigh, and took off at a gallop. The mares rapidly caught up and passed him, his silver mane blowing in the wind, his tail lifted in the air.
Amelia wanted to weep. “They ran away.”
Houston rounded his leg over his horse’s head and slid to the ground. Reaching up, he placed his hands on her waist and brought her to the ground. “Expected them to, the first time. That’s why I said I wouldn’t be long today.”
“Why didn’t you chase after them?”
“They would have just run harder. This is their range; they’ll come back. When they do, we’ll be waiting.”
“How long before they accept us?”
“Hard to say.”
He slipped his arm around her, and in a gesture that seemed as natural as breathing, she leaned against him, waiting for the promise of his dream to return.
For several days, they found the herd, walked into its midst, and watched the horses scamper away, but each day the mustangs didn’t run quite as far or quite as fast. On the fourth day, they didn’t run.
Houston felt Amelia’s arms tighten around him as he guided Sorrel into the middle of the herd. The palomino stallion eyed them warily, slowly approached, and sniffed Sorrel, sniffed Houston’s leg. Houston thought he could feel Amelia holding her breath against his back. How he wished he could have turned around to watch her. He imagined her green eyes bright, her lips curved into a smile.
When the stallion had determined they were no threat, he shook his head, sending his long silver mane rippling over his neck, and sauntered away as though to say, “Do as you please.”