Mountain Wild (Harlequin Historical Series) (13 page)

Her slow smile surprised him, and brightened her blue eyes. “You’re not like most people.”

“Sure I am.”

She shook her head. “No one else would have stepped a foot into that alley. There must have been more than thirty men on that boardwalk, all of them watching as he came after me. Yet I’m the one being hunted for a crime, forced to find trade farther north.”

He hadn’t thought about the warrant preventing her from bartering her needlework.

Maggie slowed to a stop at the edge of the tall grass, her gaze pensive as she looked across the front yard. Everett hammered shingles on the far side of the barn, his hat barely visible beyond the highest point.

“No one else is on the ranch.”

“I can’t stay, Garret.” She glanced past him as though gauging the distance to the river. “Give me my pack and I’ll—”

“You’re taking my horse,” he said, his arm moving around her shoulders, tucking her against his side as he continued past a large chicken coop beside the barn and on toward the bunkhouse.

Trapped beneath the weight of Garret’s arm, Maggie’s heart pounded erratically. As they moved closer, the massive house at the center of his ranch seemed to rise up, stretching taller than the mountains, looming over her like a castle with its tall peaks, glass windows and imported walls—not so unlike her childhood home. The comparison brought the threat of memories she didn’t want to contemplate. Dread pooled in her belly and her steps began to drag. A short distance beyond the house a lone cross marked a grave site. New grass grew from recently worked dirt. She glanced up at Garret and found him watching her.

“Duce didn’t make it off the mountain,” he said, a hardness coming into his eyes.

“Your friend with the red hair?” she asked, recalling the man who’d been with him the night he’d helped her.

“Yeah,” he said, grief clear in his expression. “He was killed by whoever attacked me.”

“I’m sorry.”

His arm tightened around her shoulders, the strength of his embrace increasing the stir of awareness swirling inside her.
“I’d have ended up in a grave right beside him if you hadn’t hauled me from the snow.”

Awareness sweltered into burning need—the need to hold him, to feel his arms around her. So tempted to wrap her arm around his waist, to return the reassurances he offered, she looked away, her gaze moving over the quiet ranch. Beyond the buildings and expanse of fencing another ten miles of green hills led to the mountains marking the western horizon. The only place she truly felt safe.

“Did you find out who attacked you?” she asked.

“Not yet,” he said, stopping beside the bunkhouse. “But I will.”

Maggie stepped away from the weight of his arm.

“You can take the trail just beyond those corrals,” he said, motioning beyond the bunkhouse as he turned to the backpack hanging from his saddle. “Takes you through a pass that leads right to my sister’s place.”

“I can get to the Morgan ranch without using a marked trail.”

Expecting him to hand her the pack, he shocked her by walking off with both her canteens. He shuffled up the steps to the longhouse.

“What are you—?”

“I’ll just fill your canteens. Come on in.”

He disappeared inside, leaving the door open behind him. Boots followed him, leaving her alone in the yard.

Damn it!
She glanced across the quiet grounds and tried to tamp down the sudden flare of panic. He’d led her into the open and now he just left?

Birds chirped in the tall trees spaced around the yard.

Not enough trees.

As she waited the chirping and chatter seemed to grow louder, as did the beat of her pulse. Didn’t matter that the only man on the ranch was the one watching her from the barn roof. She didn’t like being here. Beyond the perimeter of Garret’s
ranch the only shelter was the tall grass stretching over miles of hills, the river a quarter mile to the south.

Her gaze stopped on the lone grave beyond the house—a reminder of how ruthless men could be, killing for no other reason than greed.

Just like Nathan.

Chilled by the thought, she rubbed her hands over her arms. Garret was fortunate that his land didn’t border any of Nathan’s ranges. Not that Nathan was the only threat in the area. Rustlers and marauders had been plaguing these rangelands long before her brother had arrived.

She glanced again at the open doorway. She supposed she should count herself lucky that he hadn’t gone into his fancy house.

Biting out a curse, she started for the steps.

G
arret sensed her hovering in the doorway behind him. He’d blatantly used her gear like a trail of breadcrumbs to lure her into the bunkhouse. Twisting the cap onto the second canteen, he glanced at the meal Everett had prepared, ready to bribe her any way he could.

I’m not trying to catch her.
He just wasn’t ready to let her flutter off just yet. He wanted to know more about the woman who’d saved his life and kept her own hidden.

The fact that she wasn’t married was a damn good start.

He slid the strap over his shoulder and picked up the plate. He turned to find Maggie a few steps inside, her distress apparent, her complexion white as a bed linen.

“Maggie?”

“Smells in here,” she said, touching a hand to her stomach.

“It’s the bacon grease.” His gaze locked on her flat belly. “Do you not like bacon?”

“I used to. Been a long time since I’ve had any.” She swallowed as though combating a bout of nausea. His sister had birthed enough babies over the past eight years for him to know an upset stomach could be an early sign of breeding.
They’d only been together the one night. In the eight months his wife had shared his bed she hadn’t gotten pregnant.

“It also smells of tobacco,” she said, fanning the stagnant air.

“Smells like a bunkhouse.” He stopped a few feet away from her and slid his plate onto a table. “Can’t be worse than the bundle of fur hanging from my saddle.”

Her lips shifted slightly. “It’s not far off,” she conceded, glancing briefly at his supper.

“Maybe you just need to eat something.” He grabbed a fold of bread and strode toward her. “It’s past noon.”

She shook her head. “I’m okay. I need to get going.”

“You look half-starved and ready to pass out.”

“I’ve been eating plenty,” she protested. “I’ve put on weight.”

“Have you? Hard to tell beneath all that loose buckskin.” Her belt and blade defined her narrow waist, the rest of her alluring curves masked by the gathered folds of the large tunic. Knowing she wasn’t wed gave him the freedom to explore sensual memories he’d been trying to repress for weeks. Desire flared as he embraced the image of her flushed skin, her impassioned responses to his touch, his kisses.

Despite her harsh glare, her cheeks brightened to a soft pink.

Mad Mag blushing beneath his appreciative gaze. Just as all the rumors hinted, she was wild and resilient. He also knew what hid beneath all that buckskin and attitude—a gentle heart and a fierce lover.

Grinning, he held up his sandwich. “Want a bite?”

“I want my canteens.”

He lifted the straps and draped them over her shoulder. “There you go.”

“Thanks.” she said, taking a step back. She turned, making a dash for the door.

“Magpie?”

The endearment stopped her. He waited for her to look back.

Maggie was slow to meet Garret’s gaze, the emotion she saw there binding her as tightly as any rope.

“Are you pregnant?”

The question hit her like a blow.
“No.”

“You’d tell me if you were, wouldn’t you?”

The distrust in his gaze stung. “I haven’t lied to you, Garret.”

“You weren’t wholly honest with me, either. I’ve spent the past two months believing I’d slept with a married woman.”

“And I told you I’ve never been married to anyone.”

Anger firmed his features. “That old trapper took advantage of you.”

“Ira
saved
me.”

“He also hurt you.” It wasn’t a question.

Maggie couldn’t deny that life with Ira had tested her endurance. “He didn’t coddle or dote. He expected me to learn the trade and to fend for myself. And I was grateful for the schooling. I couldn’t have enjoyed these last years alone if he hadn’t taught me how to survive out here.”

“Hard lessons for a young girl.” His gaze moved over her, pausing on her hands and all the hidden places where he knew scars lay beneath. The compassion in his eyes pricked at her temper.

“Stop looking at me like that! Ira wasn’t gentle, but he wasn’t a cruel man.”

“He must have done
something
to keep you tucked away in those mountains all these years, to have you flinching at my every move. How long did you live with him?”

“Five winters, but it’s not how you think. I wasn’t afraid of Ira, not once I understood him.”

“That he’d give you protection if you shared his bed.”

“No!”
she said, startled by his misunderstanding. “He never touched me. Not once! He told people we were married so they’d leave me alone.”

“So, you and he didn’t—”

“Never. I told you I’d never been kissed. Not until
you.
”

“Kissed. I assumed you’d been bedded.”

She shook her head. Garret’s blatant shock increased the heat burning into her cheeks.

“You were
untouched?
”

“It’s not like I’m a young girl, Garret.”

“An innocent woman all the same,” he protested. “Why? Why did you let me?”

“I didn’t plan it! You started kissing me and I…I liked it. I liked
you.
”

Garret moved toward her. Relieved as he was to know she hadn’t been abused by Ira, he suddenly worried he may have hurt her—a worry banished by the memory of her body arched beneath his, her warm blue eyes revealing the undeniable pleasure shared between them in the hours they’d spent making love. She’d been a more-than-willing participant, her passion exceeding anything he’d ever experienced. He assumed he’d been the first to give her real pleasure, but never imagined he’d been her first, the only man to love her.

He couldn’t fight his grin.

“I have to go,” she said, taking a sliding step back. “Thanks for the water.”

“I’ll walk you out,” he said, heading her off in the doorway.

“No need.” She tried to slip past him.

“A gentleman always walks a lady out.”

Wedged beside him in the doorway, she stiffened. Her chin jetted up as she glared at him. “I’m not a lady.”

“
Yes, you are.
You’re as much a lady as any I’ve ever known.”

“You’d be the first to think so.”

Garret smiled, damn pleased by that discovery. “I like being first.”

Her expression softened, and he didn’t hesitate to seize the opportunity. He kissed her, a gentle brush of lips, followed by another. And another.

She leaned in, her lips parting beneath his. The first touch of her tongue and Garret dropped his supper to the floor and closed his arms around her. Maggie’s fervent kiss filled him with something he needed more than food—passion…
hope.
Her tongue returned every touch, every stroke. He tightened his hold, lifting her against him.

She whimpered against his mouth and folded her arms around his neck, pulling him to her. Desire roared as she clung to him, kissing him with reckless abandon. Her touch, her taste, the demand of her tight embrace burned away the emptiness inside him, filling him with a deep sense of satisfaction.

Maggie pulled back, ending the kiss as quickly as it had escalated. She bumped against the door frame, gasping for breath.

“You shouldn’t…have done that.”

Garret would have laughed if she’d left any breath in his lungs. She hadn’t hidden the fact that she’d wanted that kiss just as badly as he had.

Boots moved between them, nibbling up the last of the bacon Garret had tossed aside.

“Can’t see why not,” he admitted. “I think I’ve made it fairly clear that I fancy you.”

Her eyes widened before she tugged her hat low, hiding her pretty, blushing face. “I’m leaving.”

She dashed across the porch.

“I promised you my horse,” he said, catching up with her.

“I don’t need it.”

“It’s ten miles to my sister’s ranch. Twice that if you follow the river.”

“Which is why I need to get moving.” She reached for the pack still hanging from his saddle.

Not about to let her walk, Garret plucked her backpack from her grasp.

Her expression fierce, she slammed her hands onto her
hips, drawing his gaze to the long blade she wore there. The barrel of her rifle was visible just behind her shoulder and he knew too well she could be a lethal force when reckoned with. A man who didn’t know the tender woman beneath her scowl would likely be quaking in his boots. Garret felt a kind of admiration for her that made his heart ache.

“Anyone ever tell you that you have a stubborn streak a mile wide?”

“No.”

“Another first,” he said, giving her a wink.

“Garret—”

“You’re taking my horse, sweetheart. Feel free to stand there and fume while I tie down your gear and raise the stirrups.”

“You don’t understand. I’d really rather walk.”

The distress in her voice made him look up from securing the rancid bundle to the back of his saddle. “You can leave her with Chance.”

“Which means I’d have to talk to him. Aside from bringing home an occasional frozen cowboy, I strive to avoid such situations.”

“Am I part of a vast collection?”

“No! I can assure you I don’t go around the mountain looking for cowboys to take home.”

“Good to know,” he said, smiling at her expression of sheer agitation. Even with her temper flared, he’d never been more attracted to a woman. Every moment in her company reaffirmed a notion he’d been trying to deny for two months.

He was crazy about her. And just like Amanda, she took to his ranch the way a cat takes to water. Unlike his ex-wife, Maggie appreciated the land—it was the people she feared.

“About time you started to recognize friend from foe. There’s not a man on the Morgan Ranch who’d be a threat to you, least of all Chance.” He recalled Chance’s mention of her
moving into the northern ranges. “Did you move because of Chance and Cora Mae?”

She gave a slight nod.

“You had to know the Morgans weren’t a threat to you.”

“Anyone knowing where I live is a threat. Word spreads and these hills aren’t what they used to be. When we worked the rivers we’d travel for weeks on end without seeing another soul. Ira told me these hills would fill with settlers once they ran off the Indians, that I should go north. I didn’t want to believe him. But he was right,
like always.
”

Ira may not have abused her, but the man’s reclusive nature had definitely fueled her fear of people.

“Maggie, there’s no reason you couldn’t settle somewhere around here.”

She averted her gaze, the pain he saw there ripping at his heart. “My trouble in Bitterroot suggests otherwise.”

“You don’t want to go. You love these hills and ranges as much as I do.”

She drew a ragged breath, her features firming. “I want to be left alone.”

“You won’t have to see Chance,” he said as he finished the second stirrup. “Leave her in any pasture. They’ll recognize her and get her back to me.”

She didn’t look any more convinced as he stepped back so she could mount up.

“All ready for you, darlin’.”

“And you think
I’m
stubborn?”

He only smiled.

She crouched down and Boots rushed into her open arms. “See ya, Boots.”

“He’s liable to start missing you. You’re welcome to come by and visit him anytime. You’re always welcome here, Maggie.”

Her gaze moved over his ranch as she straightened, and
came to rest on Duce’s grave site. “I’ve never understood why folks take the risk. Living in the open.”

“Honey, most would say you’re the one taking the risk by living up in that wild country alone.”

“Up there I know the harmless critters from the ones that would kill me. Down here, you can’t tell.”

“No matter where you go, you won’t find a place that doesn’t have danger lurking somewhere. It wasn’t a man that killed Ira.”

“I know that better than you!”

“You think he would have lived differently to avoid that bear?”

“No. If you knew Ira, you’d know he didn’t belong out of those mountains. Folks were likely grateful he chose to stay in them.”

“I feel the same way about these hills. When you love where you live, what you do, the people in your life…it’s worth the risk. Something worth fighting for.”

“To you, maybe. Ira didn’t believe in any such thing. He thought a man standing still was nothing but a target. He didn’t understand my need for a cabin, to stay in one place. The two years we wintered apart he seemed surprised to find me well when he came back.”

“You stayed anyway? Alone?”

“I don’t mind solitude. Winters aren’t too bad so long as you prepare. The rest of the year I’m surrounded by all I need. But not anymore. It’s not safe.”

Garret hated seeing the fear that drove her to push him away. “Is that really what
you
think? Or is that Ira’s influence?”

Maggie didn’t know anymore. Standing here with him was making her head spin and her heart ache. “I gotta go,” she said.

He took a step back and waved a hand toward the mountains. “Then, go.”

She mounted his horse and noticed he’d tucked her old
shotgun into the side scabbard. “Thanks,” she said, refusing to look at him as she tugged on the reins, guiding his spotted mare toward the western rise of mountains.

Garret watched her go, wondering what he could have said differently to ease her fear.

“See you around,” he called after her.

“I doubt it. You ranchers are mostly blind.”

She glanced back, her bowed lips all he could see beneath that wide brim—which was enough to stir his pulse.

Once she rode past the house, the mare broke into a run. His dog charged after them as though he intended to go with her.

“Boots!”

He stopped at the edge of the yard, his two-toned eyes glancing back at him.

“Get over here.”

He ran back to his side and barked at their departing magpie. As she descended over a rise his bark turned to a howl.

“I know the feeling, boy. I’d like to chase after her, too.”

Nothing but misery came from holding a woman who didn’t want to stay. And yet, he’d felt the yearning in her kiss, her reluctance to let go of him.

He’d have to convince her he was worth the risk.