Dog Wood Bride

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Dog Wood Bride Page 14

by Jillian Hart


  If she wasn't careful, she was going to lose her heart completely to a man who did not care for her that way. At all.

  "You look like your trip to town was a success." Brennan grabbed the packages and bags off the buggy floor. "Let me carry all this to the house for you."

  "I appreciate that. Why are there so many fence posts piled on the lawn?"

  "Because the lumberyard salesman dazzled me with his bulk price, so I said yes." Brennan's mouth upturned into an easy-going grin. "See? I promised you would have a few more fenced pastures around here."

  "I can't say I'm not pleased. It's rather exciting. Claude's back injury keeps him from setting posts, but my brother started a fence line for me. It was going rather slow because winter set in."

  "I saw the three posts just standing there. I asked Claude about it. Now I'm setting the rest of the fence line."

  "Do you need any help?"

  "I never say no to good help." The wind kicked up, stealing his words as he led the way across the porch and opened the front door. "The black stallion and his herd are sticking close. They do not seem to want to leave the wounded mare behind."

  "I noticed that. She'll be able to join them soon."

  "That's my hope, too." He set the packages and bags on the entry table and nodded to her and her sister, as polite as any gentleman. He stepped back outside. "I'll see you later, Skye."

  "You're not the boss around here, you know." She wasn't grinning ear to ear, was she? She sure hoped she wasn't because the man had charmed her far too much. And if he had, then she'd lost her mind entirely.

  "Maybe he isn't as intimidating as I first thought," Samantha whispered after the door closed behind him. "At first I thought he was rough and scary looking, like an outlaw, but he's different from that. He's really nice to you."

  "He is, and the horses adore him." And I do, too. She bit her lip to keep the truth from rolling right off her tongue. "I'm not exactly sure if I'm in charge around here."

  "He's awfully commanding." Samantha's eyes twinkled at Skye's joke. She hung up her bonnet and reached into one of the bags. "This new embroidery floss is exactly the right shade of green I need. Are you hoping that Brennan stays around longer than a few weeks?"

  "I have no idea. I don't seem to be in charge of him. I think men are like that."

  "Any good man, and I know the feeling. I do have several suitors back home that I may be dangling on a string." With a wink as adorable as she was, Samantha swirled away to lay the skein of light sage green against the embroidery hoop she'd left on the sofa. "Oh, I'll have to see what's in my mail. Did you stuff the envelopes in your reticule?"

  "No, it's in the dry goods bag." Skye untied her bonnet ribbons and finger combed her tumbling down tendrils. "I noticed you received a few envelopes from back home."

  "Friends, mostly, so I can keep up with what's going on without me. Oh, what fun I have whenever I go back." Samantha plunged her hand into the shopping bag and came up with the bundle of envelopes. "Yes, this is from Josh. He's hoping that he can start paying a call on Sunday for supper, and I'm not sure I want to agree to that."

  "Why not? Isn't Josh the one whose family owns that department store downtown?"

  "Yes, and he really is extremely kind. Even I'm tempted to give beauing him a try. See if his table manners hold up to my impression of him."

  "You've spent time with him before?"

  "Only on library volunteer board, and he's been lots of intelligent, gentlemanly type fun conversation. I'll give it some thought and see what his letter has to say."

  "Probably very practical things like what is new at the library fundraising committee meetings and how much he can't wait to see you again."

  Samantha sighed. "Perhaps. It's such a serious thing, isn't it, debating who to trust one's heart with, even if it's just for a first step of a courtship."

  "Yes, indeed it is." Skye meant to reach for the bakery box, but her hand missed and she grabbed thin air instead.

  Her gaze swiveled to the window that looked out to the far side of the yard. There he was moseying along in full glory. How could she feel anything other than fascinated and half in like with the man backlit by the infinite robin's-blue-egg sky and color-studded grasses as the wildflowers began to bloom?

  Any woman with any sense at all would be smitten by the man glistening in the sun. Maybe it was safe to admit it, even to herself, since she could not stop the feeling. It simply was not her fault for being sweet on him.

  And maybe a little bit more than sweet.

  She knelt to loosen the white string bow on the box, but her eyes wouldn't obey her and look down. They went up and peered through that sunshine-streaked window framing the man.

  She stopped breathing when he stopped to stroke a horse's nose. Minnie had ambled over to the fence line and stood patiently, accepting his gentle pets.

  This was entirely his fault, there was simply no one else to blame! If he wasn't so well-built and so handsome, then she simply wouldn't be like this, far too attracted and unable to look away.

  Well, this was good to know, a very important thing, indeed. There was nothing wrong with her, obviously. He was the problem, one she simply couldn't ignore.

  "Oh, this is just a charming letter." The melody of Samantha's soft voice filled the room. "I want to go answer this right away."

  "You know where the stationary is." Skye grabbed her wide-brimmed hat from the wall peg. "I'd better go out and inspect those fence posts."

  "I was waitin for you to say that. I don't know what took you so long." Samantha smiled over at her, pure sweetness. "Don't worry, I'll put all our purchases things away. You go see to that fence building."

  "Thanks, sweet sister of mine." She sailed out into the afternoon heat and the caress of the warm breeze. Easy to shut the door and leave her worries behind as she skipped down the steps and through the growing grass.

  A robin skipped along, head tilted, listening for worms, black bead eyes bright. Lark song rose and fell, lilting in time with the wind and rustling tree leaves as she bypassed the orchard.

  A few pink blossoms let loose from the flowering trees and tumbled to the green grass at her feet. A sign of change, of hope, or so she wished as she swished along.

  "Don't think I can't see you coming and why." Brennan glanced up, in the middle of his work, and eased the bottom end of the wooden post into the ground. His resonate, deep voice warmed with his smile. "I don't need a supervisor."

  "Someone has to keep you in line."

  "And you think you're tough enough to do it?"

  "No, but I want to make sure I get my money's worth."

  "You're not paying me. We've never agreed on a salary. I work for myself, pretty lady."

  "You really are confident I'm going to agree to your asking price, aren't you?"

  "I may have gleaned a few choice pieces of important information about you from your brother. Trust me, you can afford me."

  "I can? That is news to me."

  "You haven't figured this out yet? I'm going to keep working until I get the results I want. A good situation for the horses, you happy, and work to keep me satisfied. I like it here, and the bunkhouse is very nice and comfortable. I'm going to like taking care of the horses for you."

  "For me? I thought you weren't going to work for me."

  "I'm not, but Orville has no bank account to pay me with. And you won't have to worry about it for a while anyway."

  "That makes me worry more!" She laughed.

  He did too. Her sparkle of mirth and glint of mischief made him chuckle deep. And it felt good, it chased the sorrow from his soul and the hard from his heart.

  He watched a slow rosy blush tint her heart-shaped face. Gorgeous? No words could come close to describe her sweet beauty, with her yellow summery dress and golden-sun tendrils waltzing in the wind.

  He had no right desiring her the way he did, but that was her fault alone. What man could resist her?

  Not one. Even the mos
t iron-hard hearts would melt. But after what he'd been through, would he have the heart she needed?

  "Do you find my work acceptable?" he asked.

  "It's exactly what I would expect. It looks perfect to me so far. You knew what I wanted with this. Without asking me."

  "I can read minds." He tightened his grip on the wooden handle and shoveled loose dirt into the space around the set post.

  "Claude told you." She sparkled so brightly, his eyes blurred. "You've been busy while I've been away shopping. Did you rest at all?"

  "I don't need rest. I need to stay busy, and you need some problems solved. I can do that for you. And some dreams lassoed."

  "For you, or for me?"

  16

  "Don't think I can't see what you want. That pretty pinto mare will make a good saddle horse, if you want me to train her again. If she will allow it."

  "It's too bad we can't let her run free."

  "Good answer. You don't want her spirit broken. We can give her a good home and that's everything."

  "We?"

  "I'm trying to show you how this offer of mine will go." He leaned his shovel against the newly set post. "The stallion came back for her today and he didn't go far."

  "He didn't? Did he come close to you?"

  "Closer than I expected to get."

  "And he has beautiful mares." He bent to heft a post off the small pile on the ground. "I can't wait to capture a few of them and their foals."

  "I always figured they might like to stay here, nice and safe. And not worry about being chased off another rancher's land."

  "I know. That's why you feed them. Not to catch them, not to take their freedom from them. But so they have an easier life." He lowered the heavy post into the ground. "I'd like to help you give them that. What do you think?"

  "I think you've guessed at one of my dreams."

  "Let's see if I can't catch it for you. These fields would be a nice place to roam. Plenty of fresh grazing land, shade and comfort and plenty of food and water from me. They would have nothing but ease and safety."

  "I was told once that it was a waste of money to feed the wild horses. It takes too much to break their wild spirits that there is very little profit." She hung her head, the pain tremulous in her voice.

  His past roared up at him, that tender, scarred place in his heart. What would she think if she knew his faults and flaws, his deficiencies? That he'd been beaten bad and even whipped in prison? The fact that he'd hardly known love at all, not really.

  But he did know quite a bit about fallen dreams and those that had been broken.

  "It won't take long to get this fence up. It's not all that big of a project, and I rode to town and had all the wood I need delivered. When I'm done, we can start catching wild horses."

  "You want to get them before they start moving on to better pastures. Although this band has been staying near by for a long time."

  "They know a good thing when they have it, a feeder full of food. That's the best way to rope wild horses I've seen yet."

  "It may get tricky once you get them behind a fence."

  "Maybe, but I've ordered these long timbers. This fence out to be tall enough to keep them in. What do you think?"

  "It should hold them. But the stallion can see what you're figuring. He isn't going to come close, even with the best food in the world in that feeder. It's going to take lassoing him to get him behind a fence. That's what I've been told."

  "I see, well that won't be easy to do on my own." He bent to pick a daisy. "How good are you with a lasso?"

  "Better than you think."

  "Well, that stallion is smart enough to know to stay away from you, a gorgeous lady with a rope, so we'll have to see how my plan goes. I can't make any promises, but I can do my best to get a herd grazing in here. If I can do it, if I can give you one dream, will you trust me with more?"

  He watched her hesitate, bite her bottom lip and gaze out into the green of pasture and trees. She could not do this alone, and by the looks of her, she'd come to this part of the country for a new start and a husband.

  Not to build a horse ranch for profit. This was about helping them home.

  Well, the love of horses was something they shared. And it was a place to start. He handed her the flower. She took the daisy, smiled at its white satin petals and sunny silken center.

  "Did I mention I'm not just a wrangler by trade, but a gunslinger, a scout, a medical man and a carpenter?"

  "And when I first saw you, I noticed that you were no ordinary man." She tucked the flower into the brim of her bonnet. "I need someone to love the horses and treat them right. I get the feeling you know that already."

  "We're not so different in what I want. And I can't help feeling that I'm meant to be here." He reached for the shovel, turning away from her.

  Destiny. She felt the brush of it so close, it was like paradise.

  "Oh, Orville, is that you?" She turned around, realizing someone had a hold of her bonnet. She looked a palomino stallion in the eye, bright with good humor. "C'mon, handsome boy, let go of my hat. Look what happens when you don't get all the attention round here."

  Brennan gave a soft bark of laughter. "There's no way I can compare with you, Orville. You're clearly the best fellow around here."

  The big golden stallion lifted his muzzle, gave Brennan a horse-like grin and a head shake of approval. More good news, Skye realized, when he stopped nibbling the ribbon holding her bonnet on.

  "Come with me, you funny guy. Did you get your stall door open again? The latch got sort of broken during the last break-in." Her adoration for her horse felt as sweet as spring blooming as she laid a hand on the stallion's neck and led him away.

  Orville hooked his head over her shoulder, keeping pace. The horse adored her.

  And I do, too. Brennan gently tapped loose dirt around the base of the newly set post. The woman had his heart aching, hurting like there was no tomorrow.

  Marry her, take her off my hands, do whatever it takes, her brother had quipped. I'd sure be obliged to you. I'll even give you a bonus if you do.

  After what he'd been through, it felt like a gift to be here. A real chance for a new start. The pain of loss and heartache might stay with him forever, because what had been done to his heart had been a permanent change.

  But could Skye come to want him? He lifted his face to the wind, feeling the warm air cooling his face. Not even the sun could chase away the shadows that darkened his heart or his past.

  But she would never need to know about that or the deal he'd struck with her father. He set the shovel aside, ignoring the bite of sharp, breath-stealing pain when he lifted his arm. He had a real chance to work for something here, and he wasn't going to let anything destroy it.

  His mind drifted while he worked. As he knelt to hammer the board into place, he felt the wind sail against his jaw and buffet his hat brim.

  Bam, bam, bam! The hammer drove the nail in deep and it echoed across the grassland and also deeper in the recess of his brain. It dragged up memories best left forgotten.

  Reeled back in time, a more naive and trusting Brennan tightened his grip on the braided rope lead and cooed a low-noted phrase of comfort to the young gelding tossing his head and refusing to bow to his will.

  The rhythmic bam, bam, bam of hammer against nail continued, echoing across the landscape. The workers building the new training arena hammered industriously, heads bent, ignoring the fact that they'd shattered the silence of the barnyard.

  The jingle of harnesses were a light flute-like sound compared to the hard percussion of the construction workers and their hammers. Terror kicked into his bloodstream as he glanced over his shoulder, realizing it was another visit from the local deputy's office.

  But the men who drove and rode into view in a collection of horses and vehicles were no deputies, at least, not alone. The first man he spotted was a local team of federal marshals.

  The paddy wagon rattled on the road behind them
.

  That's for me. They've come for me. Terror settled like an anvil on his heart. He felt paralyzed, unable to move. He couldn't believe this was real. It had to be a dream, it just had to be.

  "Looks like you're a guilty man after all." His foreman and the ramrod of the ranch yanked the rope lead right out of his hands. "Don't even think about running. I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I made the mistake of my life believing in your excuses. Your alibi."

  Air rushed out of his chest as if he'd been sucker punched. He carefully pushed away from the fence rail and took a shuffling step toward the approaching lawmen.

  They were carrying chains and ankle shackles. Ice trickled down his spine.They were going to arrest him. Chain him up, no evidence needed.

  He squared his shoulders, determined to face them with as much dignity as he could, with everyone watching with judgement and hate in their eyes.

  Friends. Coworkers. His boss. Men he respected no longer.

  Now they hated him, for no real reason at all.

  This was the end of his life as he knew it. He braced himself, gathering his courage. The law thudded closer, their boots striking hard-packed August earth. The posse of hard-nosed, brutal men surrounded him, grabbed him by the wrists and dragged him off his feet.

  Fear swished through him before he hit the ground with a bang, pain arrowed through him and he bounced over rock and dirt as they dragged him. Pain engulfed him, drown him, he nearly blacked out.

  Every rock and twig scraped his back and legs. Men he'd worked with shouted hateful taunts and threats, sure of their righteousness. The rough length of a rope caught him around his neck. The noose pulled tight.

  "Okay, boys!" The federal marshal called out. "We're taking him in."

  The noose burned, scraping skin and rubbing deep into muscle and bone. A deputy's boot slammed him in the temple and in the explosion of pain, all went black.

  Brennan blinked and put down the hammer, torn from his memory that was more of a nightmare. He rubbed his neck and gulped, unable to rid himself of the memory of the bite of the noose. Adrenaline punched through his veins in thick, fierce thumps.

 

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