The Wrangler (15 page)

"Time to go, Howie." He pushed away from the bar, landed on his feet and tried to look at the cracks between the floorboards and not her. "Let's get you home before anything goes wrong. Calamity tends to find you."

"It's not my fault." She dropped another dollar on the scarred wood. "Barkeep. Payment on the Chapman tab."

"Thanks, sonny." The bar owner reached for a thick ledger to mark down the amount.

"Looks like you picked the right time to leave." Dakota protected her from the crowd as they wove through the saloon. In the corner, an argument started. Baldy had been bumped by a drunken man and the two were exchanging heated insults.

"I've been a witness to the aftereffects of Baldy's arguments before," Kit confided. Her presence behind him made it hard to notice anything else. "The last thing I need is to be near a saloon fight. My mustache is barely staying on as it is."

"I saw it almost come off earlier." He held a swinging door for her. "You're lucky your poker buddies didn't notice."

"Luck was with me tonight in all ways." She patted her bulging pocket. "Twenty-seven dollars."

"You didn't take advantage of them, did you?"

"Hardly. The drunker they got, the better they got." She strode down the sidewalk, lifting her face to the fresh air. "That breeze feels good. It was hot in there."

"Yes." Hot. That was the word. His blood heated a few more degrees every time he looked at her.

"Hi, Jack. Hi, Blue." She waved at her horse.

The stallion was hard to see, tethered on the far side of Jack, but Jack looked restless. Something was wrong. He spotted a shadow beside the horses and laid his hand on his revolver.

Looked like there would be trouble after all
, he thought, recognizing the shadow. "Sinclair."

"Outlaw." Tannen had his hand on the walnut grip of his Peacemaker, ready to draw, too. "This is a fine horse."

"Step away from him."

"Merely looking. No harm in that." His tone implied something different.

"Blue doesn't like strangers. Step away from him." Kit stepped up, feet braced, looking ready for a fight. It took every bit of his will not to turn toward her, not to let the weakness he felt for her flood him.

He cleared his throat. "You heard Howie, Tannen. This is your last warning."

"Sure. Will do. Couldn't help but notice the fencing and the house."

"I've been keeping my eye on that rise." Dakota ambled closer, shooting close. "Guess you found another one."

A smirk twisted the man's features. His only answer. "It's a shame about horses. They're vulnerable, mostly helpless when you get down to it. Sickness, old age, accidents. We have a lot of trouble with wildfires around here. I'd hate to see a fine horse like this get caught in one."

"Are you threatening my horse?" Kit surged into the street, fists balled up, facing the man who'd assaulted her. Fearless, standing between him and Blue.

Dakota really liked that about her. The woman twisted him up inside. He stepped in front of her, shielding her from Sinclair's view. He drew his Colt. "Move on, Tannen, or you and I are gonna have problems."

"My man shot you once. Do you want him to do it again?" Tannen pulled a folded piece of paper from his trouser pocket. "Your new terms, Howie. The next payment is due in five days. I thought it was generous to give you five whole days. Here, served nice and legal."

"But we paid you." She stared at the paper, as if she didn't want to touch it. "Nothing's due for another month."

"Yes, but it seems I can change the terms. You can thank your brother for that." Tannen tipped his hat. "Outlaw, good luck coming to the rescue this time."

"I don't need luck." Protective rage made him feel ten feet tall.

"Hey, what's going on here?" The sheriff marched down the boardwalk. "Sinclair? I shoulda guessed. You're mostly at the center of trouble in this town."

"Howdy, Beauregard. I'm admiring Howie's horse, is all." Sinclair held up his hands, innocent.

"I've got my eye on you, get back to your poker game." The lawman leaned against the railing, crossed his hands over his chest as he waited for Tannen to oblige. "And you, newcomer. I don't like guns drawn in my town."

"Just protecting Howie and his horse." Dakota holstered his gun. "I don't want any trouble."

"Then we're in agreement." The lawman turned to Kit and stuck out his hand. "You're Hubert's brother, right? Glad you got my letter."

"Letter?" Kit stopped talking to her horse and arched both brows. "Uh, sure. Good to meet you, Sheriff."

"Beauregard." The sheriff shook hands. He had a weathered face, a sparse gray beard and matching gray hair sticking out from beneath his hat. "Those three Chapman kids shouldn't to be out here on their own. The oldest girl is stubborn. I advised her to leave, that this country is no place for a young lady unprotected. She doesn't seem to have the best judgment."

"What? I wouldn't say that." She bit her lip, as if she were doing her best not to argue. Blue leaned in to tug at her bandana.

"The girl's young, that's all." The sheriff wasn't studying Kit hard, if he did he might notice a few things, like the slender column of her newly exposed neck. "You keep a sharp eye out. I don't like to think of Tannen anywhere near those girls."

"Will do," Kit answered.

Dakota untied Blue's reins, eager to get going. Lawmen made him nervous, reminding him of his past. Beauregard unsettled him particularly, and he didn't know why. "C'mon, Howie. Let's go home."

The sheriff's footsteps closed in. "And you, they call you Outlaw around here. You look familiar to me. Why is that?"

"Don't know." That was the pure truth. He held Blue by the bridle while Kit mounted up. "I'm new to town."

"Curious. I never forget a face, although the old memory ain't what it used to be." The sheriff scratched his head, shrugged it off, like it was no matter.

Dakota would believe that if he could stop the skittle of foreboding on the back of his neck. He stuck his foot in Jack's stirrup and swung into the saddle.

"I had problems with Tannen the last time I was in town," Kit said from her saddle as she wheeled Blue toward the street. "He scared my horse, dragged me from my saddle and held me to the ground. He would have robbed me, maybe worse, until Outlaw here stopped him."

"Are you saying you want to press charges?" Surprised, the lawman tipped his hat to study Kit more closely, and the gesture sparked something.

Dakota saw in memory a flash from cannon fire backlighting the meadow and illuminating a lieutenant colonel with the same hook nose, same profile, same stance.

No, it couldn't be. Dakota sucked in air, reeling, and gripped the pommel to steady himself.

"There aren't many who'd go up against the Sinclairs," the sheriff cautioned. "This isn't St. Louis. You think it over, and if you still want to press charges, come to my office."

"Thanks, Sheriff." Kit tipped her hat in a manly fashion and reined Blue down the street.

Jack hurried to catch up with them. Good thing, too, because Dakota couldn't seem to make his hands function.

"Vince is a lawyer," Kit was saying, her voice distant and tinny.

He swallowed, struggling to listen through the thudding in his ears.

"I'm going to have him take a look at the contract, likely after tomorrow's trip to the lumber yard. And thanks for helping with Tannen, standing between him and me like you did." Kit leaned forward to stroke Blue's neck soothingly. "This time around, he might not have been fooled by my disguise, since he'd seen the real me up close. Not that I was thinking of that. Only getting between him and Blue."

"Anyone who's seen the real you won't forget, believe me." He lifted his face, let the wind wash over him, wishing the bad feeling in his stomach would go away.

What were the chances? Montana Territory was a big place. Why did he run into someone from his past here?

"Hey, another compliment." She relaxed into her saddle as they cantered through town. Piano music and noise spilled into the street, fading as they headed out into the black prairie. "I like it. It's good to be the boss." The stars illuminated her in silver, and she could have been a pure beam of light, precious beyond imagining.

No woman had ever affected him like this. Normally he was forged steel. Immoveable. Unyielding. But she melted him like butter, leaving him wanting more than just simple sexual desire. What he felt for her went far deeper than that.

 Now that they were on the open road, she took off her hat and unpinned her coiled hair. A long braid tumbled down her back. "That's more like it. My head gets hot with all that hair up there."

That's how she charmed him,
he thought. How she'd roped him more surely than any lasso could. Her dimpled grin, a tilt of her head, that alluring cheerfulness in her voice.

"Why did the sheriff think you looked familiar?" She hooked her hat over her saddle horn. "Do you know him from somewhere?"

"I'm not saying." There it was, the past nosing its way in. He'd learned long ago you couldn't hide from your past, you could never escape who you were. No matter how far you traveled or how fast you ran. Why had he hoped this time he could? "My history is not up for discussion."

"Is it too painful?" The note in her voice had changed from cheer to curiosity to compassion.

Compassion. He locked his jaw, fighting against the truth he could not escape. One day she'd likely look at him and regret the compassion she'd shown him. That was a day he hoped never came. But the longer he stayed, the greater the chance it would.

"I like being a mystery," he said, trying to be light, although he knew the gruff tone gave him away.

She reached across the few feet separating them, her saddle creaking, and laid her gloved hand on his. A river of sensation rose within him with the speed of a flash flood, threatening to drown him completely. He desired her with a power and a tenderness he'd never felt before.

In the star shine, her beauty shone iridescent, as if ethereal, something out of his reach. But the warmth of her touch penetrated the leather, making it seem as if they were skin to skin.

He wanted to draw her into his arms and kiss her until she clung to him, begging for more. He wanted to hold her forever.

"Fine, no more discussing the past," she said. "We'll leave the past behind us. The here and now is all that matters. It's all we ever really have."

Her fingers tightened around his own. "Agreed?"

"Agreed," he choked out.

"Oh, look." The starlight seemed to follow her as she withdrew her hand, standing up in her stirrups. "The mustangs."

He stood too, straining to see across the ghostly prairie where distant horses thundered. Bathed in silver and platinum, they chased the night. "It's the same herd."

"There's the black stallion." The night breeze rippled through the loose tendrils escaped from her braid. "They are stunning."

"Yes, they are." He'd only seen one thing more exquisite.

Her.

"Do you think I'm wrong for wanting to capture them?" she asked.

"No. They are fighting to survive. One day soon these prairies will all be settled and farmed." He sidled Jack up next to her, took a thoughtful moment, and spoke again. "I've been without a home for a long time. If I had a chance at one, I'd do what it took and hold on with both hands."

"Good, 'cause that's what I'm doing." She eased back into her saddle, watching the mustangs move like poetry across the far reaches of her land. "I'll be kind to them. I won't let any mountain lions hurt them."

"I know you will." His arm came around her, rock-hard and hot. "If their lives have to change, then they'll be lucky to have you."

"You sound like you mean that."

"I do."

Being this near to him made her yearn to be closer. She turned to him, instinct guiding her and the whisper of an unrealized dream. She laid her palm flat in the center of his chest and let her gaze sink into his and simply be. To feel the man within.

It was his wounds she saw first. The scars he tried to hide and the old loneliness burrowed into his soul. Something had hurt him, but it wasn't what drove him, it wasn't what made up his heart. He could no longer hide from her, because she could feel him right here, lodged in her heart. When he leaned closer and gently tugged off her mustache, her breath caught. When his pulse skipped a beat, hers did, too.

The world silenced around them, fading away as if they were the only living things on earth. His pupils dilated, and his lips hovered above hers for a whole minute as if waiting for her to stop him.

How could she? She waited, held enchanted until his mouth slanted and covered hers, like magic, soft as a feather's brush.

She surrendered on a sigh, overwhelmed by the heated satin of his kiss. She fisted his shirt in her hands, forgetting everything except for the heat and caress of his kiss. He kissed her as if she were the last woman on earth, as if he could not bear for it to end.

When he pulled away, longing glazed his eyes and he folded her against his chest as if she were precious above all things. His heartbeat thudded wildly beneath her ear and she closed her eyes, realizing she was trembling. She did not want to let go.

As if he understood, he held her. Her entire life, she'd never experienced anything like this. The closeness, the passion, the safety of his protective arms. It was too late to deny her feelings for the man, even to herself.

Chapter Twelve

"Okay, boys!" Deter, his boss, the man he trusted, the man he looked up to, gave the order. "String him up."

"No. Please." He focused on those hatred-filled eyes, remembering the man who'd given a kid a chance, who'd hired Dakota without a single reference. He'd worked his way from stall mucker to top wrangler, and he'd done it with integrity and hard work. "I didn't do this. You know me, Deter, you—"

"No, I don't." Brutal, those words. More cutting than any knife. The older man spat his fury and kicked dirt in Dakota's face. "Hang, you bastard."