by Jillian Hart
He loved horses with his entire being, with all of his soul. This was one of the rare and the few, so special a true horseman would give his life for.
He held out one hand to let the stallion scent him and make his own judgements. The palomino lifted his head, nostrils flaring. His gentle brown eyes shone as warm as melted chocolate in welcome. Brennan felt it his heart like hope whispering.
He was looking for a good horse to take care of. To make a difference for. He laid one gentle, soothing hand on the stallion's cheek.
"You're a good fellow." Brennan stroked his way to the horse's neck, felt the satin-soft coat, the heated power of muscle and bone beneath that palomino coat, and the life force, the heart.
Easy to look into those melted chocolate eyes and want stay.
"What do you call him?" Brennan asked, aware of the woman standing beside him. His breathing hitched when he locked eyes with her. Yep, I am far too aware of her, he thought.
"His name is Orville." She watched the man from beneath the frills of her hat brim.
The stallion gave a gentle nicker at the sound of his name and bumped Brennan's hand with his nose. He rubbed the velvet-warmth of that nose, watching the woman at his side.
She was a slip of a thing, not too tall, but not short, and willowy perfection. Even in that outlandish riding skirt of hers, likable beauty, and far too dainty to be on her own in this rough part of the country.
She ought to let a man take care of her, to protect her from the harshness of the rough, rugged and sometimes unbearable hard world he'd seen far too much of. What would she think if she knew how he felt?
"C'mon, Orville. Your lady needs to get to a safer part of town." Brennan felt the words deep.
The stallion answered with another soft nicker, wanting more petting.
"I can't believe he likes you." Her words carried on the cooling wind, as sweet as blooming daisies. "He doesn't like anybody, not even my brother. No one but me can come up to him, except my sister when she's in town."
Sunset was draining the light from the sky, leaving behind the beginning fingers of twilight in clouds and shadows.
Brennan's footsteps knelled on the boards behind her. "You have a sister and brother, huh? I thought you were alone out here."
"Not entirely. Just on my own. That's different." She stared up at the impressive iron of his chest and, higher, to his chiseled face. "I'm not used to strange men coming to my rescue again. I'm an independent sort, and I'm grateful. How do I thank you?"
"I'll let you know in a bit. I'm not done yet."
"Done with what?"
"Helping you." He untied Orville's left rein from the hitching post, patiently unwrapping it. "It's a decision I may come to regret, but I'm going to let you make good on those favors you said you owed me."
"Maybe they aren't very big favors."
He laughed. He grabbed her by the arm, his touch a searing hot brand on her elbow. "Up you go."
"But I can do it on my own."
"Up." The patient steel in his voice held a note of caring. Hinted at his gentleman's manners.
That stumped her. She gazed up at the man, who looked more outlaw than lawman, and saw the kind glint of his heart in those dark-as-midnight eyes.
This man may be hewn of pure iron, but he was much more. That impressed her.
She slipped her shoe into the stirrup, aware of every breath Brennan Mosley made and of the intense heat of his kind touch on her elbow. Apparently he was aware of the man named Judson standing in the saloon's front window, watching them. Brennan took a moment to glance over his shoulder before he gave her a boost, and up she went into the saddle.
He handed her the reins and stepped back from her side, and she couldn't explain the lurch of her heart or the way her arm felt cold where he'd touched her.
The saloon's door banged open and Judson charged out onto the boardwalk. Another man, with guns holstered at both hips, pounded after him down street, heading in the other direction.
She shivered. The muffled boom of their angry voices shattered the serenity of the quiet street.
"They're pretty mad about something." Brennan strolled away from her side. "Have you had problems with that man before?"
"Perhaps, I didn't know or recognize him, and I have had two break-in problems at my barn. And I don't think that it would have turned out well for me today if you hadn't stepped in when you did." She tightened her grip on the reins and blew out a trembling breath. "I should have made you choose a different location to meet for the job interview."
"There wasn't time on my end, I was traveling, and I stand out like a sore thumb anywhere else but a saloon." He glanced across the way, where they had a slight view of the hotel on the corner, one street over. "What are my chances of getting a room there?"
"You could always pull one of your many guns on them," she quipped.
Brennan's chuckle rang as warm as summer rain. "That's a way to make friends and gain good opinions in a new town."
"You do look rather intimidating." And how handsome.
He looked extra duty tough in black from head to toe, tough enough to hold his own with the strongest of men. She had no doubt he knew how to use those guns strapped to his thighs with expert precision.
She scrunched up her face. "What are you doing?"
"Untying my horse." Brennan unwound the reins from the post, three horses over.
A passerby on the boardwalk ambled closer, caught sight of Brennan mounting up onto his impressive black gelding. The fellow from the livery stable blinked, looked owlish behind his round spectacles, gulped and hurried away in the other direction.
Yes, that had been her first impression too, but he did come well recommended through her brother's connections in the horse world.
"Considering the attention you got from some dangerous men in that saloon," Brennan said, wheeling his horse into the street. "I had better see you home."
"Good idea." Skye gave her skirt one last adjustment before backing Orville away from the hitching rail.
She thought of everything that was at risk, and not just her financial independence but her dreams.
"Where did you learn to ride like that?" Brennan asked when they were heading down the street side by side. "Most ladies would have just driven their buggies."
"I love to ride horseback. It's one reason I moved out here to Wyoming Territory. I can ride Orville all I want to."
"You have skill."
"My pa taught me."
"He is a good horseman, or so I hear."
"One of the best, and so is my grandfather. They both live and breathe horses."
"A fine horseman does."
"I grew up watching them adore their horses since I was very little. When I was five, my grandfather took me down to the stables and gave me my first horse. I've been caring for him and riding him ever since."
"You must have spent a lot of time with the men in your family growing up."
"I sure did, and I miss them. But I have a good life here in Wyoming Territory."
"And they let you move here by yourself?"
"I have a brother and two cousins here to check on me. If only I could make my little sister move back home and stay there instead of visit so much, so I don't have her underfoot." Humor twinkled in hazel eyes.
"Sorry to hear that. Wouldn't it be a better idea for you to stay with your family back in Pennsylvania?"
"Oh, not in the slightest. I love it out here, all this open space, and I can ride my horse all I want and hardly anybody raises an eyebrow."
"You're puling my leg. They raise eyebrows, you just ignore them."
"Yes, that's likely true, and I may be exaggerating." Sorrow chased away the warmth of humor. "I have my reasons for being here. I came to visit my cousin years ago and liked it here, so I stayed."
"Let me guess." He steeled his chest, attempting not to care, not to get roped in. "You are farther away from your sorrows here."
"True. How did you know? Di
d my brother tell you?"
"Not exactly, I'm just guessing on a hunch. You wouldn't be the first person to head west to leave something painful behind."
They'd reached the edge of town, where the shadows painted buildings and boardwalks, and windows gleamed lemony yellow with lamplight. The sun had set, leaving a faint glow of crimson and purple across the ever darkening sky.
He didn't know why she got to him. He didn't know what it was about her that hooked him and made him care. Proof that he'd been a loner for so long, committed to a solitary life. And that was the way he'd wanted it.
But no man was an island, and he needed a good job.
He wasn't about to drain his savings account tucked away for the land he wanted to buy and the lifestyle he wanted to enjoy. Alone. That's how he wanted to enjoy his life, but he was beginning to hope that Abe was right. That he might be able to have more.
Look at how it felt to ride alongside her. It was nice. And companionable. He cut his gaze sideways to her. "So you've got a new start here in Dog Wood and are in need of a wrangler."
"It's a tough world and it's harder than it looks to find a good horseman to hire. They aren't exactly jumping to work for me."
He knew that. Because she was a woman. "I hear you have a nice spread."
"Yes, and my family is hoping that I wait until I marry to make improvements on the place. As if I would ever want to do that! Why wait for the impossible? I say, get the buildings up, fencing put in and then worry about finding some nice horses. It's not a big ranch, just small, that's all. I've got a few plans for my future."
"Let me guess. You can't find a man to marry you." He arched one eyebrow.
"I have to confess the truth. I'm not looking to marry anyone." Up went her chin again, a show of sheer dignity, but there was no hiding the slight squeak of pain in her voice.
The woman had her heart broken so hard there was no recovering from it. That was plain to see. No doubt about it.
"Which is why I need to hire you or someone like you." A hint of a smile sharped her mouth, as pretty as could be.
He had to tear his gaze away. "Sounds like you have a lot of work that needs to be done on your place."
"I don't see any reason to put it off. My family is going to have to accept that I can't put off living my life for something that isn't going to happen. What do you think of Wyoming Territory?"
"I like it." His sixth sense began to tingle. He spotted a movement through the darkness.
He turned around, squinting through the shadowed woods they were riding through. He'd recognized that broken brim of a battered Stetson anywhere.
So, Judson had returned, had he? Riding down the road behind them like a man with vengeance on his mind. Well, he didn't like the feel of that.
His stomach chose that moment to rumble.
"Are you going to work for me or not?" She tilted her head, smiling up at him with enough sweet dazzle that he nearly slid off his saddle.
4
"Work for you?" He cleared his throat, stared off into the darkness behind them, seemed to debate either his answer or what to do about the rider gaining on them in the twilight shadows. "I'm not going to work for you."
"Oh, well, I have to say I'm not disappointed."
"You aren't?"
She pushed a flyaway curl out of her eyes. "Can you imagine how unhappy you would be taking orders from me?"
"You're a nice lady, Miss Weatherby."
"Call me Skye, and I'm glad you think so."
"Do you have a little trouble with one of the locals?" He gentled his tone, hoping she would be honest with him. "It troubles me that you are out here living on your own. I don't think that's a good thing for a woman to do."
"You don't?"
"No." He glanced over his shoulder again.
She wanted to be angry with his answer, but he simply was being honest. "I have had minor trouble from time to time. Either my cousins or my brother are here to help watch over me."
"Then it will be fine if I don't take you up on your job offer. This is not what I wanted. I wish it was."
"Me, too." She dipped her chin, aware of how she must look, a spinster a bit too old for any man to lose his head, and then his heart, over. "You make an impression on people, Mr. Mosley."
"I don't try to."
"I would have been more than slightly intimidated, but your kindness helped me to see a different side of you."
"My warm and cuddly side?"
"Do you have one of those? Mostly it looks to me as if you know how to use your guns with deadly accuracy. Or at least, know how to punch a man." Humor danced in her eyes like sapphires sparkling.
"So, are you telling me you are relieved I'm not going to be your employee?"
"No, because I'm not relieved. I'm disappointed. Orville seems to like you. He's a good judge of character. That's all the recommendation I need."
"Then you trust when you shouldn't. You don't know me."
"Hey, I didn't say I trusted you, and I don't know you. Generally, I've learned that there are few men I trust as far as I can throw them, and I can't lift much. So that means I'm better not to trust any man at all."
"Smart. I can't say that's wrong."
"Then again, I know some very fine men in my family. And they are absolutely trustworthy and good." That loss of belief in a man's kindness and integrity would always hurt, always be like a knife to the heart. "They said the same thing about you, Mr. Mosley."
"Call me Brennan. I met your brother briefly, and I liked him."
"Precisely my problem with Abe. I just can't stop liking him." And adoring him. She reined Orville to the right around the curve in the dark ribbon of the road.
Night had fully descended, falling like a black veil, absorbing all light and color, leaving only deep shadow.
"Can I ask you something?" She tilted her head, studying the man through her lashes. "Why don't you have a job?"
"I finished up my agreement with my last employer and moved on. It was time." He followed to the right, turning onto the hard-to-see driveway.
That was all he wanted to say. Hidden in the dark, he could feel Skye watching him, waiting for an answer.
"What's the real story?" she asked. "I mean, it isn't as if you are going to stay and work for me. What harm could it do to answer me?"
"Plenty, for all I know. It might make you like me."
"Maybe. Then what do you have to lose?"
"True." He might as well just say it. Be blunt, say what was painful and let her know the truth. "My last boss had gotten hurt and hired me to do the work in his place."
"So, do you just roam the western territories, finding whatever work suits you?"
"Most of the time. I like well run stables, so I'm careful who I pick. The last place I worked, the owner recovered from his injury, I'd been doing his job for him, so he could oversee the work himself. That's why I moved on."
"It sounds like you are always drifting. It must be hard, not having a home or a place to belong."
"I'm used to it. I've been doing it for a long time. Trust me, there are worse things." He kept his voice gentle, his tone warm.
She'd clearly grown up protected, she was riding a finely bred horse that was worth more than half the land in this territory.
He wasn't one to think that meant she knew nothing of hardship. But he did know it made her a target for nefarious men out to make a quick, easy buck.
He'd been alone for a long time, too. But it was better to keep a lock on the door of his memories. Keep the past where it belonged.
"It's not so bad," he confessed, leaning back in the saddle.
Now they were off the main road, he didn't relax, but the air and the night felt better.
The aspens lining the lane rustled with a hush, serenading the glimpse of stars beginning to shine in the flawless sky.
"If I'm not happy somewhere, I just give my notice and move on. I find something that does suit me. It's a good way to live, so I'm lucky
."
"You have a wandering foot."
"Can't say that I want to have one. It's just the way things have worked out."
"Life is like that." She gazed up at the stars, too. "You think your future is going to be one way, but then something or someone throws you for a loop, and there you are, with a different future you couldn't see coming."
"That's why I like to stay in command of mine." Don't be a fool, he told himself. Don't let her close.
He would be smarter to keep her at a distance, just like everyone else. He'd learned that the hard way.
"It's why you like to work with horses, isn't it? I saw the way you treated Orville, and he doesn't take to strangers easily."
"Orville is an exceptionally good gentleman of a horse."
"Exactly true, and he likes you. I saw it with my own eyes. He loved you instead of trying to kick you, so you passed the first phase of the job interview. And you didn't even know it."
"I don't want to be interviewed. I'm not interesting in working for you."
"Too bad. Orville will be disappointed, and I would love a horseman who has his approval. He knows a good man when he meets one."
"I have a way with horses."
"I've noticed. I do, too." The starlight found her, polishing her with beauty. Not the bold and brash type, but the kind of quiet beauty like the starlight that brushed over her and dusted the trees and meadows around them in a soft, silvered glow.
That kind of luminousness could light up a man's world and fill his heart.
Not his, he wasn't a man able to do that, and he had to be careful so he didn't hurt her. His iron heart softened a tiny bit for her and for that light he saw in her.
That couldn't be good at all. That was one reason why he ought to move on, find another job.
He would be wise to resist the pull of her.
"Something tells me that you're a horseman through and through," she said. "You come so highly recommended. I can see that it's true. You're hardly directing your gelding."
"He's a good boy." Brennan knew he should have chosen silence, but the words just came right out of his mouth. He wanted to talk with her. "I was born a horseman. Even as a little boy, it was all I wanted to grow up to be. I know a like soul when I find one."
