by Jillian Hart
It felt suspiciously like hope.
Chapter Sixteen
“Giddy! Giddy, wake up.” Junior shook his brother’s shoulder hard.
Giddy gave one final snore before bolting up on the bunk. “What? Huh?”
“Someone’s comin’.” He grabbed the gunnysacks from his bunk and stuffed them into the water bucket that had been left in the shack. “They’re comin’ fast. We gotta go.”
“What do you mean?” Giddy grabbed his revolver and drew. “We’ll sit in the woods waiting for ‘em. When they come up the trail, bang, bang. We’ll have us a few dead deputies.”
He hopped from the bunk, looking eager about it.
Junior wished his brother wasn’t like that. He’d seen him like this before. There had been times—more than a few—when it had been better not to ask. But now that they were living together, he had to wonder. “Have you ever killed a man before?”
“Haven’t you?” Giddy looked down the nose of his .45, lining up his sites and pretending to shoot. “There was a time or two I had to even the score. Make ‘em pay for what they’d done to me. This ain’t about that sheriff, is it? He’s dead by now. Guess that would make four notches on my belt.”
Giddy buckled on his gun belt, scuffed across the floor in his boots. “I’ve got a spot all scouted out with a good view of the trail. How many would you say are coming? Two, three?”
“A dozen.” Junior’s feelings stung. He didn’t appreciate his brother talking harsh about the sheriff like that. What about Iris? Was she crying? Was she sad she was never able to get married? The thought of her heartbroken broke him up inside.
Maybe he was more than a little sweet on her. Very sweet.
“You’re wrong.” Giddy seemed sure about it. He stalked outside to check for himself. It sure seemed like he had it all figured out.
Junior went straight into the woods, heading up into the higher foothills. It was dark, and there were wild things out here. An owl hooted overhead. Something moved quick and predatory through the undergrowth on a faint trail ahead of him. Stars flickered between the trees. His foot caught on an exposed tree root and down he went. Bam! His knee hit a rock, the bucket flew from his hand and he caught himself with his palms. Stickers dug into his flesh, into his hands, and he bit back a curse of pain.
Sound carried in the night, in the quiet. The rolling clunk, clunk, clunk of the metal bucket rolling downhill sounded as loud as cannon fire to his ears. He pushed himself up, pulled the stickers out of his skin and adrenaline spiked through him. At least the deputies weren’t close enough to pounce.
“Aw, they’re all the way down the road. You chicken-livered coward.” Giddy grabbed him by the armpits and yanked him up. “You’re running away like a little girl.”
“Do you know who lives in this town?” Junior pulled a few stickers out of his arm. “Zane Reed, that’s who. He’s close with the sheriff. They’re friends. Everyone in town knows that. Who do you think that is leading the pack?”
“So what?” Giddy sounded all brave. “I’m not afraid of no bounty hunter. Besides, we’re gonna be long gone by the time he gets here. C’mon.”
No argument there. Junior didn’t have time to bemoan the loss of the bucket and gunnysack blankets. He followed Giddy into the dark. The forest surrounded them as they climbed and climbed some more, keeping to the shadows as they circled McPhee land. By the time he was breathing hard and the back of his throat was dry, Giddy stopped and crouched low.
“There’s that stupid bounty hunter. If only we weren’t so far away.” Giddy carefully pushed the needles of an evergreen bough aside just enough to frame the men dismounting midway up the trail to the cabin. Giddy pointed his finger like a gun at the bounty hunter. “Bang, bang.”
Junior shivered. “C’mon, let’s keep going. I don’t want to get caught by that man.”
“Don’t worry.” Giddy eased the tree branch back into place. “We won’t.”
They headed into the hills, stopping to cover their trail before splashing through the river and into the night-swept meadows of the neighboring ranch. They kept going until dawn.
Gabriel pulled Barney to a stop and leaned back in his saddle, taking in the view. The Rocking M was an impressive ranch in the early morning light, part valley, part hillside and rimmed by an emerald forest and towering mountains. He shouldn’t be surprised, knowing Aumaleigh’s parents had built it. They had been two people driven by money and by appearance—and ruthless enough to succeed at all costs.
Good for Aumaleigh for winding up with all this. She deserved it. He swung down, took a moment to pat his weary horse. They’d been going all night. His mind drifted to the past, to how hard they used to work Aumaleigh. Not her brothers, just her. A son is to carry on your name, your legacy, Winston McPhee used to say. But a daughter, she’s only good for what you can get out of her.
The back door of the two-story log house swung open, and Aumaleigh bustled out, whistling as she reached up to ring the dinner bell. The melody carried on the wind, rising above the chatter of birds busily building nests and the whinny of a gelding leaning over a wooden corral closest to the house.
“Oh, goodness, Phil, you are a demanding horse!” Aumaleigh called out, looked toward the whinnying horse and jumping when she saw him instead. “Gabriel! You startled me. What are you doing sneaking around my ranch?”
“I’m up to no good.”
“Typical.” She smiled at him, wiping her hands on her flowered apron. She looked pretty as the morning, standing in the golden-hued sunshine with the wind tousling her hair. It was sleek and dark, curling around her heart-shaped face, a face he knew so well. “It’s feeding time. The cowboys are on their way.”
“Feeding time? You mean for the animals?”
“Sometimes I call them that.” She pulled something out of her skirt pocket—a carrot. She swished toward him, following the path the sun made as if it were shining just for her.
“Hey, I heard that, Aumaleigh!” A cowboy hollered across the way. “We’ve worked hard not to be animals. We’ve improved our ways.”
“Yeah, now we wipe our feet,” another cowboy called out, leading the way across the yard. “We don’t spit tobacco in the house anymore.”
“That’s because if you do, I’ll take my wooden spoon to you, John. I won’t hesitate.” Aumaleigh tossed him a caring smile. Her manner was easy, her nature kind. You could see how much she respected the men who worked for her.
And how much they respected her.
“Hey, Gabriel.” John stopped to greet him. “It was good to have you riding with us last night.”
“It was good to come along. Thought I’d get home, grab some shut eye and be ready to ride again tonight.”
“We’d be glad to have you.” John’s gaze cut sideways to pretty Aumaleigh waltzing up to the corral, sweet talking the whinnying gelding. “It’s a worry those men were hiding out here on the ranch. Makes you think they were up to no good here.”
“That was my thought too.” Gabriel nodded, sharing an unspoken agreement with the cowboy. The Klemp brothers were wanted, they were criminals and they were being tracked. There could be only one reason why they were hanging around. “I hear their father used to work here.”
“Like Beckett.” John waved across the yard to where Beckett emerged from the barn, heading toward them. “He was promised a piece of this ranch, but his sweat equity wasn’t good enough. Maureen likely burned up their agreement. When she died, there was no way to prove it.”
“Sounds like Maureen.” He’d had plenty of dealings with that woman. She’d done her best to buy him off more times than he could count, and when that didn’t work, she’d tried to scare him off. “She cheated that Klemp fellow too?”
“That’s what Burton and I told Milo. We’ve been talking to him ever since we found out about his sons. We ain’t gonna let them hurt this ranch. It’s Aumaleigh’s heritage, and it’s our livelihood. It’s our sweat and our blood. We’ll defend
it.”
“Let me know what I can do. I’ll do anything.” He meant that—with everything he had and everything he was.
Aumaleigh. She was at the fence line petting the demanding gelding’s nose. It was in her stance, in the humor like a bell in her voice, in the natural accord she had with animals.
“Phil, you are a nut. Here’s your carrot.” She held the vegetable on the flat of her palm, laughing as the horse lipped up the treat. “Oh, you’re such a gentleman. What a good boy you are.”
The animal preened. She had a way with animals. She still had that soft touch. Tenderness took him over, melting even more.
“I don’t think the true nature of the situation has occurred to her yet.” John was grim. “Aumaleigh has a gentle soul. She doesn’t understand the deception of certain kinds of men.” John’s voice dipped with meaning, with feeling.
Gabriel tried not to bristle. It wasn’t hard to see that John was being protective of Aumaleigh, the way a father might. All he could do was to reassure the cowboy. “I’ll be careful with her, John.”
“See that you do. Burton and I don’t want to have to come knock some sense into you.” John winked, belying his threat. “Not that we’re violent sorts, but you’d be mighty unpopular with us.”
“I don’t want to risk that, believe me.” Gabriel understood. He liked that she had good men looking out for her, good men who understood what she’d been through with her family. “Save me a place inside. I want to talk with her.”
“Okay, but don’t be long.” John chuckled. “We’re a hungry horde. We’ll eat anything that’s not nailed down. Ain’t that right, Beckett?”
“That’s the truth.” Beckett strolled up. “C’mon, John. Let’s leave the two of them be.”
The younger man nodded his approval, and it felt good. It mattered a lot. Maybe her family would be behind them this time. Wouldn’t that be a change?
“Sorry, Phil, there’s just one.” Aumaleigh’s laughter was like music, and for an instant, he caught sight of the girl she’d been, full of charm and hope. “Stop that, stop kissing me right now. That’s just—oh, you’re tickling me.”
The troublesome Phil didn’t stop. He went right on nibbling Aumaleigh’s ears and face, giving her a rough lick along her jaw. He swished his tail, his chocolate eyes full of mischief. The horse seemed enchanted too by the willowy woman, as good-hearted as a princess, as sweet as spring.
Gabriel didn’t remember crossing the yard, only that he was near to her, that he was touching close. His fingers itched to settle on the small of her back and turn her toward him so he could capture that laughing smile of hers with a kiss.
“Gabriel. Why aren’t you in eating with the cowboys?” She stepped back, safely out of reach of the kiss-prone horse. The gelding stretched his neck over the top rail as far as it would go, and when he couldn’t reach her with his tongue, he put more muscle against the fence.
Yeah, he knew just how the horse felt. “I could use a bite to eat and a cup of coffee, but I just had to come see this horse.”
“What? Phil? Oh, he’s nothing but trouble. Look at him, trying to break down the fence.” She reached out a hand, graceful and kind, and her touch made the gelding close his eyes.
Longing lodged in Gabriel’s chest. He wouldn’t mind being touched like that by her. Would it still be as sweet? Or would it be different? Would time have changed what once sparked between them?
“I hear the tracking went pretty well last night.” Aumaleigh gave the gelding one final pat before pushing away from the corral. “It was smart of Zane and the deputies to break up and search all the different out buildings. It sounds like it paid off.”
“Yep, we found tracks outside one of your line shacks up on that rise.” He nodded in the direction of the emerald hills and the purple mountain peaks rising behind them. “They’d clearly been staying in there. They’d already left, they must have been nervous enough to have been watching for us. But Zane followed a clear trail through the woods. He’s still at it.”
“And I bet you would be too, just like John and Beckett and a few more of the cowboys, if Zane hadn’t sent you home.” Aumaleigh stopped in the middle of the yard, crossing her arms over her chest like a barrier. “I hear he’s got men on rotating shifts.”
“Yep. Zane knows what he’s doing. The Klemp brothers don’t have a chance.”
“I’m thankful for that. If they’d shoot a sheriff in cold blood, one who’d never done them harm, what else would they do? And who would they hurt next? Women? Children? I’ll be glad when this is all over.”
“Me, too. At least the Klemps are safely away from here. Zane tracked them through Lawrence’s land and through the valley.”
“Better for us, I suppose, but not for those in their path.” Aumaleigh shivered. After all her nieces had been through with Verbena’s old beau Ernest, who’d tracked her down and refused to let her go, and George who’d helped him to do it, she had a new perspective about criminals. “Let’s get you inside and fed.”
“Those are some beautiful horses you’ve got.” He didn’t move toward the kitchen house, but turned his attention to the paddocks surrounding the barns. “You wouldn’t happen to have any for sale, would you?”
“Why? You already have a team. Your horses are beautiful.”
“Yes, but I thought I’d breed and raise horses. It would give me something to fill my days. I’m not sure retirement is going to sit well with me.”
“Retirement. It’s hard to believe that’s where we are in our lives. How fast the years whip by—”
“—and I keep wondering how I got here,” he finished. “It makes you realize how precious your days really are—”
“—that they can be spent so quickly.” This time it was her turn to finish his sentence. She did it without thinking, simply saying what she felt. Was the accord between them so great? Or was it simply because they were so alike in their thoughts?
“Show me your horses,” he asked. “I can get food and coffee later.”
He had to be exhausted. He’d been up all night. “You can look at the horses later.”
“I want to see them now.” The pitch of his voice dipped, rumbling low and tender, meaning so much more.
Or was she hoping so? Don’t start hoping too much, Aumaleigh. Gabriel was here about the horses. It was best to be realistic. She shoved her hands into her skirt pockets. “I’m sure Josslyn can handle things without me in the kitchen.”
“Are you kidding? Josslyn loves to be in charge.” He took the first steps up the hill toward the barns.
She moved with him without thought, falling in line beside him the way she always used to. But it was different. It was sad. There was no closeness between them. No connection. Time had severed that.
“Did Leigh talk your ear off on the drive last night?” He tipped his hat up a notch and their gazes met.
Once she’d gotten lost in the tenderness of his gaze. But that was gone too. “Leigh is adorable. She kept me entertained all the way home to my house. I invited her over for tea and cupcakes.”
“You did?” He arched an eyebrow. “What did she want? I’m almost afraid to ask.”
“She wanted to see the house. She was being nosy.” Pleasure softened the delicate angles of Aumaleigh’s face. Clearly she hadn’t minded. “I also think she wasn’t sure about coming home to an empty house. So I kept her until almost bedtime and then drove her home.”
“Thanks for looking after her, Aumaleigh. She’s engaged, but to me she’ll always be a little girl.”
“That’s the way it should be.” Aumaleigh paused at the paddock gate. “She spent quite a bit of the night talking about you.”
“About me? Wait—maybe I don’t want to know about this. I have a feeling she violated one of the laws I laid down.” He moved in close to her, his hand brushing hers as he grabbed the latch. “Let me do this, Aumaleigh. You’ve been on your own so long, and I know you’re independent and capable, but this
is courtesy. Let go and let me open the gate.”
“You’ve gotten bossier over the years.”
“Something I learned from my daughter,” he joked and lifted the latch. “The horses know you. Look at them run to you.”
“I’ve been known to come with treats.” She breezed past him with a snap of her skirts and the faint scent of roses.
He breathed her in, wanting, just wanting. Hoping for what could be.
But Aumaleigh’s attention was on the horses. She held up her hands. “See? No treats today. How are my good girls?”
The mares loped toward her, surrounding her. Some were heavily pregnant, others sporting long-legged, knobby-kneed foals by their sides.
Just like old times, Gabriel thought, watching Aumaleigh rub a nose there, pat a cheek there, stroke her fingers down another mare’s neck. She snuggled foals, chatting to the animals all the while. They clearly loved her. Mares pressed closer, eager for her touch. Foals lipped her skirt and apron.
This was the life she’d built. Admiration beat through him. Animals had always flocked to her, and over the years her tenderness to them had not changed. The notes of her voice, the kindness, the melody of her laughter were the same, but the woman was not. She possessed an inner strength that neither diminished nor outshone her beauty. He could not look away.
“Miss Ginger, I didn’t mean to ignore you.” Aumaleigh turned her attention to another mare. “You are looking very pretty today, you good girl.”
The mare lifted her chin to give Aumaleigh better access and her eyes drifted shut, enjoying the attention.
“Gabriel, don’t stand back there. Come and take a look,” she invited, and he moved without thinking, drawn to her like she was his destiny, like they’d never been apart.
But the way she turned from him reminded him that they had. She spun around, bending down, to take a foal’s muzzle in her hand and give it a kiss on the nose. The little filly preened, brown eyes warm with adoration.
Yeah, he knew how she felt.
“This is Petunia. Her dam is Angie. She’s the sorrel with the three white socks.” Aumaleigh laughed when another foal nosed in and knocked little Petunia out of the way. “Hey, Felix! You are a bad boy. No, I’m not going to kiss you next. No, I’m not at all.”
