by Cassie Hayes
Her soft gaze drifted down to meet his. Something inside her opened up and came pouring from those beautiful green eyes. Not for the first time, he found himself lost in their glimmer and depth, wondering what it would be like to stare into them every day.
Her lips parted, as if reading his mind. Her perfect, berry-pink lips. Lips that were made to be kissed — by him.
Only him.
Heat burned in his chest at the thought, but instead of tearing his gaze away, as he had in the past, he just kept right on looking. She felt it, too, he could tell. Her red cheeks gave it away. Yet she didn’t break eye contact either.
What’s happening? his brain screamed as he reached a hand up to grab the reins and stop Gladys. He had no idea what would come after that, but he rather hoped to learn firsthand if those lips were as delicious as he imagined.
Just as his fingertips brushed across the leather strap, Gladys jerked back, snorting in terror. What the…?
A telltale ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch sounded a few feet ahead of them. Rattlesnake!
The normally unflappable horse stopped short, eyes rolling wildly in her head. She skittered for a moment while Catherine scrambled to stay in the saddle. Griff knew Gladys too well. She was about to run. He lunged for the reins but she cut hard to the right and tore off like the devil himself was after her.
Without her rider.
The world turned upside down too fast for Catherine to really register fear, but her body got the message instantly. Desperate fingers clutched at the saddle horn as Gladys shimmied around but nothing could keep her on the back of that horse.
In between heartbeats, she lost her grip entirely. Flying backward through the air, three very clear thoughts passed through her mind at the same time: That horse is going to stomp on me, Curtis is going to hate me and I hope my skirts don’t fly over my head.
None of those things happened. When Catherine fell from Gladys, Curtis caught her with one strong arm, knocking the wind out of her. He clasped her tight to his side as he spun around and whipped out his revolver.
BLAM!
In a puff of dust, a rattlesnake lay dead in the dirt. She hadn’t even realized that’s what spooked the horse. That should have frightened her, or at least fascinated her, but the only thing penetrating the fog that suddenly filled her head was how Curtis’ taut body felt pressed up against the length of hers.
His strong fingers dug into her waist, supporting her and thrilling her the same moment. The muscles in his arm flexed, shooting unfamiliar twangs of warmth through her. Their hearts thudded in time. His scent, a heady mix of horse, leather and soap, sent her reeling. No doubt, she’d stumble around like the town drunk if he let her go right now.
Though the immediate danger had passed, she still clung to him, unable to release her grip around his neck. The sinew where her fingers touched his skin jumped and twitched in the most mesmerizing manner. Maybe it would stop if she just pressed her lips against…
“You okay?”
Blinking furiously, she shifted her gaze from his twitchy neck to his warm, hazel eyes. Genuine concern filled them — until they dropped to her lips. A soft wanting replaced concern, and her lips parted in response. Only inches separated them. If she leaned forward just a little…
High-pitched whining cut through the tension between them and drew their attention. The coyote pup! In all the confusion, Catherine had completely forgotten about the pup. Before she had a chance to push away from Curtis, he let her slide down his frame until she could gain her footing.
The dazed pup stood in the dirt at their feet, swaying slightly before plopping its rump to the ground. It must have fallen or jumped out of the saddlebag at the same time she fell from the horse. Catherine scooped it up and cuddled it to her chest.
“I know exactly how you feel, little one,” she cooed. It looked up at her with sleepy eyes, sniffed her face and yipped. The poor little thing seemed no worse for wear, thank goodness.
Curtis stood a couple feet away — it felt like miles — one hand crumpling his hat, the other shielding his eyes against the sun. Following his gaze, Catherine spotted a plume of dust in the distance and heart plummeted to her toes.
“Gladys…” she whispered.
“Blast!”
It wasn’t so much the violence with which Curtis threw his hat to the ground that cut Catherine to the quick, or the ferocity in his curse. It was the accusation in his eyes when his gaze flicked over to her for the briefest of moments.
He blames me for all of this!
She blinked away the wetness filling her eyes. First of all, this was no time for tears. Second of all, she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of thinking his opinion of her mattered. Because it didn’t. At all.
“Well, what are we going to do now,” she demanded. Part of her heart ached that the moment between them ran away with Gladys, but the natural defenses she developed at the orphanage kicked in to protect the rest of the mutinous organ.
Curtis stood staring after the horse for a moment, fists dug into his hips, before stooping to snatch up his hat. He mashed it onto his head so ferociously it nearly covered his eyes. Without a glance or a word, he started walking.
Alarm flared in Catherine’s chest, and she hustled after him. “Wait, where are you going?”
“After my horse, of course.”
On any other day, she might have been amused at his unintentional rhyme, but there was nothing funny about this situation.
“But…she’s already so far away I can barely see her.”
“Yup.”
Yup? That’s all he had to say?
“But it could take hours to find her.”
“Yup.”
Oh, how this man irritated her!
“But it’s so hot already…”
“Yup.”
“Stop saying that!”
Curtis whirled around, his eyes full of fire. “What do you want me to say? That if I’d been riding Gladys, I would have been able to handle her and wouldn’t have to wander around like Moses in the desert? That if you’d only stayed where you belong none of this would have happened? That all of this isn’t the fault of your bullheadedness and lack of trust? Well, I can’t. And I’m not going to lose my horse because your feet hurt. So, either shut your trap and get to walking or stay here.”
Catherine gaped after him as he turned and strode away. He did blame her! That seemed wholly unfair. She didn’t put that stupid snake in their path.
She opened her mouth to spit out a sharp retort but stopped short. He had a point, if she wanted to be truly honest with herself. He undoubtedly would have been able to at least stay in the saddle.
Catherine took in her surroundings — hard-packed dirt, scrubby brush, open prairie where anything could stalk her. In other words, not a place she’d like to sit and wait for Curtis to return. If he even would after this mess. The coyote pup wriggled in her arms, as if to remind her that she wouldn’t be totally alone.
With a resigned sigh, she limped after him. Before she could take three steps, he looked over his shoulder and pointed behind her, a nasty sneer on his face.
“Don’t forget your parasol!”
7
Hunting down Gladys took the better part of the day, and by the time Griff spotted her — her reins caught up in some brush at the edge of a tiny stream — the sun lay alarmingly low in the sky. If he kept good-enough track of their wanderings, they were a good hour or two away from the place Owings was holed up. If Griff were alone, he’d be tempted to press on and get his man.
But he wasn’t alone.
After his little outburst, Catherine had followed him silently, probably not daring to speak. Shame for hollering at her roiled through him for most of the day, but he couldn’t find the words to apologize. True as they might be, his mother raised him better than to speak so harshly to a lady. Especially when what happened was an accident.
Casting a sidelong glance in her direction, Griff could sense Catherine did
n’t have much more walking left in her today. The poor gal looked haggard as a the leather on his old saddle but he knew in his heart that her pride would never allow her to show any weakness. At least in front of him.
That sense of shame bubbled even harder inside him. He never took her for being tough before but she didn’t utter a single complaint all day. And that was with a twisted ankle. If there was one thing his daddy drilled into him harder than any other life lesson, it was to admit when he was wrong.
Clearing his throat as he untangled Gladys, he took the plunge. “Listen, I’m sorry about earlier. It really wasn’t your fault, I was frustrated.”
She gave him a curt nod and sat down on a large rock, setting the coyote pup at her dusty feet. “Accepted. Now, would you be so kind as to tell me what the plan is?”
“Well, if you trust me to be a gentleman, I propose we camp here for the night.”
At her gasp, he hurried on. “We’re both exhausted from this little, er, adventure, and I’m sure Gladys here wouldn’t mind a rest. Besides, I don’t fancy the idea of trying to capture Owings in the dark. Too much could happen…”
He let the veiled warning settle on her for a moment. “You can have my bedroll and I assure you that you’ll be safer than safe.”
Before Gladys got spooked, they’d shared a moment that almost had him thinking she wanted to kiss him. He must have been imagining it because now she looked disgusted at the thought of spending a minute more time with him than she had to. Of course, he’d helped that right along with his rudeness, hadn’t he?
Catherine glanced at the setting sun before finally nodding. Before dark fell, Griff had Gladys settled and had gathered enough wood for a decent fire. Trouble was, the breeze kept blowing out the handful of matches he found in a saddlebag.
“Blast!” he groused after the third try.
“Here,” Catherine said, kneeling down upwind of him.
She opened her silly pink parasol in the direction of the wind, creating a windbreak. The fire caught immediately. Griff couldn’t help laughing.
“That thing’s more useful than I gave it credit for. Good thinking on bringing it along.”
Catherine’s gaze slipped away from his, but he could tell she felt vindicated. As well she should. He’d been acting the brute with her for no reason other than she reminded him of Rebecca.
Every minute that passed eased the tension in Catherine’s shoulders until she seemed almost glad of his company. As they settled in front of the crackling and growing fire, the leftovers from lunch divided between them, the time was right to pose the question that had been on his mind since the night before.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s so blasted important that you had to come along to make sure you got your share of the reward?”
“A fresh start,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. “I was born with nothing and that’s what I still have. That and this parasol.” She spun the pink delicacy and grinned. Oh, what that smile did to his insides!
“The ranch life’s not for me, Curtis, and that’s exactly where I will have to stay, probably until I die, if I don’t find the money to leave. And patching old rancher’s filthy clothes isn’t going to do it.”
Griff chewed on a piece of bacon, thinking. “What about a husband? Surely a lady as lovely as you wouldn’t have trouble catching a fine, upstanding man.”
He couldn’t miss the shudder of horror that wracked her small frame. “No, I’m afraid that’s not a path I’m interested in.”
Why did that send daggers to his heart? He couldn’t blame her, after all she’d been through. Still, it didn’t seem right to write off the entire gender. To hide his odd feeling of disappointment, he poked at the fire a little harder than he meant to, sending sparks into the quickly darkening sky.
“Mind my asking why?”
He couldn’t meet her gaze. Only when it took her too long to answer did he risk glancing at her. She sat stock still staring into the blaze, lost in a memory. Not even the coyote pup rolling around in the dirt, playing with a small stick, drew her attention. When she finally spoke, he had to strain to hear her whisper.
“They were going to sell us.”
Chills rippled across his skin. Did he hear that right? “Excuse me?”
“The men who took us. They were going to sell us…to other men.”
Rage boiled inside Griff’s gut. As a federal Marshal, he knew full well such things happened. He even helped take down a ring of slavers supplying young girls to brothels out west. But knowing they’d come so close to taking Catherine nearly drove him mad.
He bit back the urge to rant loudly and violently about such men. She’d already been through enough. What she needed was kindness and understanding. Still, Griff couldn’t help the admiration that bloomed inside his chest. She faced such evil and not only survived but took the risk to ride with him to capture another villain for the chance to start her life anew.
“I’m sorry you went through that.” He kept his tone as neutral as possible, but a quaver of anger crept in. “I’m flabbergasted you came with me knowing full well this could be dangerous. Despite what you said earlier, you don’t even seem frightened.”
Her head swiveled slowly until she caught his gaze. The firelight danced in her emerald eyes and it took a few beats for him to realize his breath had caught in his chest.
“I wasn’t lying, Curtis. I’m terrified. And I’m sorry I didn’t trust you, but this is too important to me. It’s my only chance to live life on my own terms.”
How could he have ever thought she was anything like Rebecca? The stunning woman sitting across from him had suffered more in her young life than most men twice his age. Far from being spoiled, anything she owned, which wasn’t much, she worked hard for, and did so willingly. The way she cared for the pup proved her loving, gentle nature, as much as she tried to hide it with blustery airs. And the Daltons clearly adored her. That spoke volumes.
After months of denying it, he finally admitted to himself that the frequency of his visits to the Dalton ranch most certainly increased once Catherine arrived. As she gazed at him across the fire, he realized that his irritation with her wasn’t because of her personality but because she gave no indication that she returned his attraction. That stung, to be sure, but how could he blame her for not trusting men?
No, Catherine’s spirit bore no resemblance to the hateful woman who’d turned his heart to stone. In fact, he found that cold lump in his chest thumping just a little faster every time he caught a glimpse of her — almost as if she had brought it back to life.
A cascade of emotions tumbled down on Griff like an avalanche. His brain fought against them but it had no chance of holding out against the onslaught his heart threw at it. When it quickly admitted defeat, Griff’s brain understood what his heart had known for months.
He loved Catherine James.
Catherine shifted nervously, not at all comfortable with the way Curtis stared at her so intently yet she was powerless to tear her eyes away. The hard-packed dirt she’d tramped across all day had more moisture than her mouth, at the moment. Gulping hard, she tried to find something to say that might break the tension that sprang up out of nowhere.
“What about you?” she squeaked. He blinked in response.
“Pardon?”
“Why do you…do what you do?”
For the first time, Catherine realized that Curtis didn’t speak like most of the men she’d encountered in Texas. They had a rough, uneducated quality about them. If he’d been dressed in Nate’s finery the first time they met, she might have mistaken him for a gentleman. Possibly a businessman or some other leader of men. She suddenly needed to know more of his story.
After what seemed like an eternity, Curtis shifted his gaze to the fire and popped a piece of bread into his mouth. Her skin cooled immediately and part of her wished for him to look her way again. But she waited patiently, composing herself. It wouldn’t do to let her guard down now.
“I told you, my father…” He trailed off, not meeting her eye.
“Yes, but this is a lonely life. Don’t you get tired of it? Why haven’t you taken a wife?”
An age passed before he glanced her way. “If it was allowed, you’d make an excellent Marshal, you know that?”
She smiled at his quip but remained silent, waiting for an answer. Seeing she couldn’t be distracted, he started with a sigh.
“I almost did once. Take a wife. As a matter of fact, I stood at the altar waiting for more than an hour before I let myself believe she really wasn’t coming.”
Catherine managed to hold back her gasp of surprise. Someone left him standing at the altar? Whoever the woman was, she clearly had less sense than the pup, which was currently gnawing on a rock.
“I met Rebecca during the last year of my apprenticeship at the law firm of my father’s old partner. My plan was to open my own office, but Rebecca didn’t feel that lawyers were…I don’t know, manly enough.”
“You’re a lawyer?!” That explained a lot, yet raised even more questions.
He gave her a grim smirk. “Nope. I’m a U.S. Marshal, if you haven’t forgotten.”
“You gave up your career for her?”
“Indeed. I didn’t want to disappoint her. Plus, I was also young and stupid. But what man doesn’t want his wife to be proud of him? She had some romantic notion about lawmen so I became a Marshal. Then she left me for a train conductor.”
He shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. She certainly couldn’t.
“Why didn’t you quit and become a lawyer after she…left?”
He thought for a moment. “What I said earlier is true. Justice is my true vocation. I know my father looks down at me with pride for upholding the law. Besides, I couldn’t stay there. Not after that humiliation. The Marshal Service offered me the chance to see this great country of ours while staying true to my values.”
