The Wrangler (12 page)

"I'm grateful for the stable. It's the best place I've slept in a long while."

"But it got chilly last night."

"I'm tougher than I look."

"You look pretty tough, so that's saying something." She ran the comb through the ends of her hair, grabbed a ribbon from her dress pocket and tied her mess of golden hair into one thick ponytail. She'd deal with braiding it later.

Did he feel like this, too? A little bashful, a little uncertain? Fearing that things had changed between them and could never go back?

"I'll get the coffee on." He added the last handful of kindling into the flames, where the metal spider held the battered ironware pot over the fire pit. "Then you and I can get to work."

"Work?" She couldn’t concentrate. Probably because she kept looking at his chest. Being held by him had been a powerful thing. She'd felt safe. For the first time in a long time.

But she'd be smart to not get used to finding safety in his arms. He would be leaving, and besides, she wasn't the kind of woman to let herself count on a man. Not even Dakota Black.

Even if she wanted to. She wanted to very much.

"Fred's awake," Dakota said as he climbed to his feet and headed back to the barn.

Kit blinked. Sure enough, her freckle-faced brother rushed over. She put him to work picking through the wood pile for the driest pieces he could find. Mindy quietly joined them to take charge of cooking oatmeal and frying salt pork.

"What's he doin'?" Fred asked as he dropped a small armload of wood by the stone ring of the pit.

"Looks like he's walking the fence line." She watched him inspect the corner post she and Fred had set, give it a shake. He walked on the line she'd marked in the meadow, where more posts would be. Blue, Jack and the palomino watched him, ears pricked and eyes curious.

"We're going for more lumber today." She grabbed a hot pad, lifted the coffeepot and poured two cups.

"But what about the laundry?" Mindy flipped slices of salt pork with a fork. "Half of everything we own is wet through from all that dripping last night."

"It can wait. We're going to buy new canvas, too." The sloping rise drew her gaze, the site she and Mindy had picked for their new house. How many times had the two of them sat in the grass picking daisies and talking about the home of their dreams? With big glass windows and spacious open rooms and a separate kitchen with a woodstove. Even an upstairs loft beneath the rafters for Fred.

"Do you mean—?" Mindy bit her bottom lip, as if afraid to say the words aloud.

"Yes. I've got enough money to start building." She had one mortgage payment down, and two to go. "It's a start."

"But what about the rest of it?" Mindy asked, worry crinkling her forehead.

"I'm thinking positively." What choice did she have? She had to make this work. Winter came early to Montana, and the cold could be brutal. She didn't want any of them living out of a wagon.

 * * *

That was the last post. Good thing, since his arm was throbbing like hell. He swiped sweat off his forehead, heading for the creek. The mare watched him as he splashed cool water over his face and neck and slurped some up from his cupped hand.

"Want some too, girl?"

She didn't answer, merely watched him with patient eyes.

"I imagine you're hot laying there in full sun." He crossed the creek on the path of boulders someone had positioned—likely Fred. Bent to untie her picket line, when a movement in the meadow caught his eye.

Tannen? Adrenaline kicked through him, and he laid a hand on the walnut handle of his holstered Peacemaker. But when he looked again, he saw a dark shadow too large to be a man.

The black stallion.

The creature froze, peering over the crest of the rise, his ears visible above the tops of the seed-heavy grass. Dark, intelligent eyes watched as Dakota left the picket line alone, he wasn't anywhere close to his full strength. Had he been faster to untie her, he likely couldn't have held her.

The mare stumbled to her feet and tugged at her tether. She whinnied her frustration, sidestepping, scenting the wind. Good thing she was double tethered, so he didn't worry about her pulling loose.

"Easy, pretty girl," he drawled, wanting her to stay calm. "You don't want to tear open those claw marks and start bleeding again."

She didn't want to listen to him. Her ties were with her stallion and the herd.

"Maybe you'll have some friends here soon enough," he told her and took a step toward the rise. Slow, because he didn't want to scare off the stallion. He wanted a better look.

"Hey, there." He kept talking, holding his hands out and down, non-threatening, and met the animal's direct gaze. "I've been taking good care of her. Looks like there's no infection in her wounds. She got lucky. That mountain lion was likely hungry."

The stallion froze, caught between curiosity and experience.

"How long have you been up here watching?" He took another slow step. "Since I started setting the posts? Or earlier? Did you see me water and feed her? See she isn't scared of me?"

One more step, and the stallion lunged back, whinnied a hard warning deep in his throat. His black mane rippling in the wind, his black coat gleaming in the sun. Magnificent, he swung away, galloping full out, his tail flying out behind him.

Amazing. Dakota held his breath. The Montana plains stretched out as far as the eye could see in a glory of green and amber beneath a sky as blue as dreams. He tipped his hat to better see the stallion join his grazing herd. One command from him and the mares and foals burst into flight, streaking across the prairie. They made his heart stand still.

The crack of gunfire thundered across the prairie. The herd raced on, too far away to be hit, but then the rider on the big white horse seemed to know that. He pulled to a stop, lifted his hat and waved.

Tannen. On Kit's land. Protective anger roared through him, but before he could take a step the white horse turned tail and galloped down a draw, out of sight.

It was a warning. Dakota felt it as surely as the sun on his back. Tannen was a man used to getting what he wanted and when he didn't get it, he took it.

Dakota stood guard until the white mare was a faint blur in the endless meadows. This land must belly up to the Sinclair ranch. He couldn’t see fencing, but that didn't mean it wasn't there. Exactly how big of a ranch did Kit own? How was he going to defend it for her?

Troubled now, Dakota hiked back to the mare. She had given up on pulling at her picket, and she whickered her impatience at him.

"Sorry, pretty girl. This is for your own good." He figured it was safe to move, loosened both ropes and led her toward the dappled shade.

The mare walked painfully. The raw red claw marks that marred her perfect, golden back reminded him of what could happen to beautiful, innocent things on these rough, merciless plains.

 * * *

When they spotted the road home, Blue and Jack lunged forward eagerly. Kit didn't want to admit it, but her pulse picked up too. Not that she'd missed spending the day with Dakota—it was more like she was worried about his health. Yes, that was it. That was a perfectly reasonable explanation for why she leaned forward on the edge of her seat, searching through the swaying grasses for the first sight of him.

He stood shirtless, tanned skin burnished by the mid-afternoon sun. Muscles rippling, dark hair tangling in the wind. The man looked as elemental as the earth at his feet, as invincible as the mountains rimming the far western horizon, as commanding as the blue sky stretching above him. He dug into the ground with his shovel, looking up at the sound of the wagon.

"Look! We got a lot more fence posts." Fred leaped off the moving wagon and hit the ground running. "Kit argued and argued until we got more for the money. You shoulda seen her."

"I'm sure the lumber fellow was dazzled." Dakota leaned on his shovel, his mouth upturned. "Do you want to help me set the posts?"

"Sure! I helped Kit. I know what I'm doin'. I'm gettin' really good at it." The wind kicked up, stealing his words, but the way he beamed up at Dakota said it all.

"Maybe he isn't as scary as I first thought," Mindy whispered as she climbed down from the wagon. "He's really big and rough looking, but he's nice to Fred. The horses sure like him."

And I do too.
How could she feel anything else, she wondered as she hopped to the ground. Any woman in her right mind would be affected by that man glistening in the sun. It simply wasn't her fault for liking him.

She knelt to loosen the rigging. If he wasn't so well-built, then she wouldn't be attracted. There was nothing wrong with her, obviously. His muscles were to blame.

And if a little voice in the back of her mind scoffed at her, then she could simply ignore it.

"I'll go put this away." Mindy clutched the burlap sack in both hands. "It feels good to have this much food on hand."

"I promised you things were going to get better. Count on it."

"You took a big risk dressing up and pretending to be Uncle Howie. I know you did it for Fred and me."

"It's what a big sister does." She released the last buckle and stood, caught hold of the reins and gave them a tug until they slipped off the wagon's wooden dashboard. "It might not look like it, but I've got this all figured out. All we have to do is stick to the plan."

"You didn't have to keep Fred and me. I know it's a lot of responsibility for you. Right now you could be somewhere else, in some nicer town, finding something you really want to do."

"This is all I've ever wanted to do. Honest." She wanted Mindy's worries to be over. They'd had enough of that living hand to mouth with Pa, never knowing next where they would sleep or if they would eat. "And there's a surprise for you at the bottom of the bag. Go inside and unpack and you'll find it."

"A surprise for me?" Mindy lit up.

"Fred got all that candy. You deserved something, too." She couldn't wait for Mindy to find the snowy white crochet thread. Crocheting lace was one of Mindy's favorite activities. She liked pretty things.

"Fred wasn't kidding." A resonate, deep voice spoke behind her. "You did get a lot of timbers. No wonder the horses look tired."

"It was a heavy load, but I got my money's worth."

"That poor lumber man. He didn't stand a chance."

"What does that mean? I'm not that hard of a negotiator."

"Look at you, standing there with the flowers blooming at your feet, the sun at your back. You're gorgeous. You likely struck him mute and senseless."

"Do you need spectacles or something?"

"No, just telling the truth." He watched the slow blush tint her face. Gorgeous? That didn't come close to describing her, sunny ponytail whipping in the wind. She made him want things he had no right desiring.

After what he'd been through, who would want him in return? It wasn't easy to force his gaze from her, but he did it. He caught Jack's bridle bit and led him to the creek.

"Did you find my pack and gun?" he asked.

"Right where you said it was. Your things are in the back, too."

"That was nice of you, Kit."

"It was nice of you to set all those posts while we were away."

"And I dug more post holes. I saw where you'd marked them in the grass."

"You've been busy while we've been gone." She trailed after him with Blue. "Did you rest at all?"

"Now and then. Don't worry. I'm tougher than—"

"You look," she interrupted him. "I know."

Blue lifted his head from the creek, water dripping from his muzzle.

"That's enough for now, you." She turned him around. "C'mon, Handsome. Let's get you in the shade. I need to rub you down."

The big red stallion trailed along after her, nibbling the bright ribbon tying up her golden hair.

"Stop that, you funny guy. Do I nibble on you?" Her sweet laughter rang merrily as she ambled away. Blue hooked his head over her shoulder, keeping pace. Animals adored her.

And he did, too. Dakota gently tugged on the bridle, bringing Jack's head up from the water. There was no chance a woman would want him, especially not one as innocent and sparkling as Kit. The darkness of his past reached out and grabbed him, stealing the brightness from the day.

"The mare looks better." Kit handed him a soft towel when he caught up to her and Blue. "She's more alert and moving around."

"She'll make a good saddle horse." He took the towel and slung it over his shoulder. Jack lowered his head, eager to be rid of his heavy rigging. Dakota obliged, wincing as he lifted the thick leather collar from the gelding's neck.

"Do you think it will take much to tame her again?" Kit deftly unbuckled Blue's bridle.

"No, she's very gentle. I think all she needs is a little work." He set aside the sweaty horse collar and unbuckled Jack's bridle straps. "It's too bad we can't find her owner."

"I agree, but we'll give her a good home."

"Yes, we will." He tossed the bridle to the ground and caught hold of Blue's heavy collar before she could lift it. "The stallion came back for her today."

"Did he? Did you get close to him?" She stole the collar from him the moment he'd lifted it from Blue's neck.

"Closer than I expected to get."

"And he has beautiful mares. I can't wait to capture a few of them." She leaned the horse collars against the barn door. She returned with two rope halters and handed him one. "With your help, it won't take long to get the corral finished. As soon as we do, we can start catching them."

"You want to get them before they start moving south to better pastures."

"Exactly." The big stallion lowered his head for her, courteous as always. "I went with ten foot timbers. That should give me a tall enough fence to keep the mustangs in. Don't you think?"

"It will hold them." He tightened Jack's halter and tied him to a picket line. "How many mares were you hoping to get?"

"As many as I can lasso before the herd leaves. As soon as colder weather hits, they'll be gone."

"Lassoing takes time. The stallion is going to figure out to stay away from the pretty girl with the rope." He bent to snap off a daisy by its stem. "Now that you have a hired hand, you have options. We could round them up and drive them here."