by Linda Broday
“Turn the horses,” he muttered to himself.
Yanking off his shirt, he yelled loudly, waving it over his head. Driven by mindless panic, the horses paid him no heed, galloping straight for him.
If he wore a gun, a blast might possibly turn them—or maybe it was already too late. As panicked as the spooked herd was, maybe they’d still keep coming. Even so, he’d never worn a Colt like his brothers, only carried a rifle sometimes, and his Winchester was back in the tepee the horses had already flattened.
That left only one choice.
He’d have to find a way to get on horseback. Astride, he’d have a fighting chance. He threw down his shirt and flexed his hands.
Suddenly, a conversation he’d had with Cooper when he bought the Wild Horse came back, calming him.
Every rancher made some kind of plan for a stampede. They had to. Brett’s had always been to get on horseback, ride to the front of the herd, and turn them to the right into a wide arc—always the right, since animals naturally had an instinct to go that way. He and Cooper agreed that firing weapons before the arc was complete would kill a lot of the animals, plus the man astride, because they’d double back into themselves.
His head throbbed, and sweat formed on his palms. If he didn’t succeed, he’d have to bury Bob, the nun, and his brothers, who’d charged to help the old people.
They wouldn’t make it to safety. They didn’t have time.
One gamble, one chance to save them.
He prepared himself for the task of grabbing a mane and leaping onto the back of a racing horse. Mindful that he could fall beneath the pounding hooves and be killed instantly, he bent his knees, readying to jump.
Four lives depended on him.
Brett stood on the fringes and reached for the first mustang to pass by.
He grabbed the mane only to have it slip from his hands.
The contact nearly knocked him off his feet. He scrambled to stay upright.
With a deep breath, he ignored the hammering in his head and gave it another try. This time he managed to keep his grip. Marshaling all his strength, he pulled himself onto the panicked sorrel’s sweat-lathered back.
For a moment, they engaged in a test of wills as the animal resisted his efforts to force it to the right. Locked in a desperate battle, Brett felt the taut muscles beneath him and the sorrel’s mind-numbing fear. He leaned onto its neck and stroked the wet hair, hoping his gentle touch would instill some calm. Finally, he was able to gain control.
Yelling and waving his hat, he got ahead of the herd, and just as they bore down on his brothers and the two elders, he swung the stampede to the right.
The horses began to sweep into a wide circle, riding away from his brothers, the children, Rayna—everything he loved.
Relief left him weak and shaken.
Now that he’d averted the immediate danger, Brett turned his attention to the men who’d caused the crisis. When they saw him coming, both tried to outrun him.
Brett gripped the sorrel’s mane and slapped its flank with his hat. Coming alongside one man straggling behind, he leaped onto the culprit, the forward lunge sending them both tumbling to the ground.
The fall addled him for a moment, and apparently the other man also.
Finally, dragging in a harsh breath, Brett drew back a fist and slammed it into his opponent’s jaw with all his might.
The man’s head snapped back, hitting the hard ground.
Though dazed, he rose and made a lunge, attempting to throw his body on top of Brett.
Before he came down, Brett planted his moccasins in the middle of the adversary’s chest, pushing him backward. Then scrambling, he crawled onto him, pinning him down so he couldn’t move.
“Who are you working for?” Brett demanded, breathing heavily.
“No one,” came the sullen reply.
“I know someone put you up to this. Edgar Dowlen? Oldham?”
“Not saying.”
“Do you even care that you came close to killing a bunch of innocent orphans?”
“Be a lot better off.” The piece of cow dung wiped blood from his mouth. “Who’ll miss a bunch of snot-nosed Comanches?”
Breathing hard and struggling to control his rage, Brett grabbed the man’s shirt and hauled him to his feet. “What is your name, mister?”
“Why?”
“Makes it easier for the sheriff to know who he has in his jail, and for the judge when he sentences you to prison.”
The sullen man spat, “I’m done talking.”
Dusty and bleeding from cuts on his arm, Cooper strode over. “Nice work, little brother, both in turning the horses and in catching this weasel. I’ll take charge of him.”
“He refuses to say anything.”
“Not surprised. He’ll talk when I get him to jail.” Cooper jerked his prisoner toward the camp that the horses had left in shambles. “March.”
Brett stalked to his hat that lay in the dirt. Dusting it off, he jammed it on his head and turned to look around, his gaze searching for his Wish Book woman.
The knot in his stomach didn’t unkink until he spotted her with Sarah and the children. His knees got weak, thinking about losing her. The possibility had been too close for comfort today.
Suddenly, he needed to be near her to see for himself that she was all right.
On his way to Rayna, he met Rand. “How are the elders?”
Rand pushed back his hat with a forefinger. “None the worse for wear. Have to say I lost three years off my life though. Thanks for turning them in the nick of time. Thought we were all goners.”
“You and me both. Are the children okay?”
“Seem to be. Bet they’ll have nightmares for a while.”
“Probably.” Brett swung away before Rand could get wound up. He had a pretty lady to see before he set to work.
But before he took more than two steps, Rayna came running to meet him. Laughing, he caught her up and swung her around. Almost dying had given him a deeper appreciation for being alive…with her.
As he gripped her tightly to him, burying his face in her hair, it suddenly occurred to him that he wore no shirt. She didn’t seem to mind though. Having her in his arms, feeling her racing heart, made the world settle around him at last.
“I was terrified, Brett. For us, then for you when you decided to tackle those crazed horses without a rope or anything.” Remnants of terror clouded her blue-green stare.
“I’m unhurt. Are you sure you’re all right?”
Though she nodded, he let his gaze roam over her just to make sure.
He relaxed when he didn’t see any scrapes or bruises. “Do you think I could have a kiss? I’m sorry it has to be in front an audience, but I can’t wait unless—”
Rising on tiptoe, she covered his mouth with hers, silencing the rest of his apology. The kiss made him feel as though he stood at the bottom of a powerful waterfall with the rushing warm water, not swirling around him, but passing through his muscle and bone.
His lady was safe and in his arms.
Twenty-eight
With Brett’s strength around her, they joined the others walking back to what was left of the camp. An ache filled Rayna’s heart as she looked at the destruction. The tepee that had stood as a proud symbol of everything Brett was lay flattened, along with just about everything else, with the exception of the corral. His dream that he’d worked for with his blood and sweat was gone, and his beloved horses scattered.
“Brett, I’m so sorry. My heart is breaking.”
He kissed her temple. “These are just things. I can rebuild and round up my herd. What I can’t replace are people…you. Everyone I care about is safe, and that makes me a happy man.”
Rayna laid her hand on his bare chest and felt the strong beat of his heart. “I feel the same way about you. We can go on. I’ll help you make this ranch even better. But what are we going to do about the children? Where will they sleep? And what about Bob and the sister?” A so
b escaped before she could stop it.
“We’ll move everyone to Cooper’s. I don’t see we have much choice until this gets settled.”
“I agree. I’ll get the children ready. Will you stay here?”
“I won’t leave my land.”
That meant they’d be separated just when things were going so well between them. And he’d be here alone when trouble came. She trembled. It would kill her to leave him. Who knew what else the enemy would try. But she knew his mind was set, and nothing she could say would change it.
He went to get the wagon.
She gathered the children. “We’re going to take you someplace safe.”
“Where?” Flower’s bottom lip quivered. She clutched the cat she held tighter.
“Somewhere safe, sweetheart.”
“I don’t wanna leave. Can I stay here?” This time it was an older boy named Joseph. “It’s like home.”
“I wish you could, but it’s not possible,” Rayna explained.
A handful of questions later, Rayna looked up to see Brett striding toward her. His stormy face told her he had bad news. With the frantic beating of her heart, she went to meet him out of range of the children.
“What’s wrong?”
“The wagon is busted. There’s no way to move them.”
Rayna stiffened her spine, glancing at the trees that had shielded them in the stampede. “Then we’ll make them a bed in the shadows of the trees. No one will look for them there, and the canopy will keep off the night dew while they sleep.”
“You’re right.” He looked exhausted. She reached out to touch a trickle of sweat running down his throat. “We can go after another wagon tomorrow. You have an excellent head on your shoulders, Rayna.”
Happy that they would be together longer, she laughed. “Every once in a blue moon, I do have something worth sharing.”
“I welcome each of your thoughts,” Brett said, his lips brushing her hair. “And more.”
“I’m glad.” She wished they were in their oasis, where trouble couldn’t find them. She desperately needed what only Brett could give—a little pleasure in the midst of madness. But it might be an eternity before they could have that again.
She sighed and told the children of the new plan. Their clapping indicated approval. A few minutes later, she and Sarah enlisted their help in finding the blankets and shaking them out. Then while the men set about putting the tepees back up and picking up the pieces of the camp, she and Sarah took the orphans to the woods to find a good spot to spread their blankets.
This was going to work out.
But when a rider galloped onto the Wild Horse, her blood turned to ice. He reined up in front of Cooper and dismounted.
She hurried, arriving in time to hear the stranger say that Cooper’s wife, Delta, had taken very sick, and Doc Yates wanted him to come immediately.
Something about appendix and that it might’ve burst.
Rayna didn’t know what that was but suspected the condition could kill a person.
Cooper handed his prisoner over to Rand with a request to take him into town to jail and sprinted to the thankfully still-standing corral for his buckskin.
A few minutes later, Cooper raced toward his ailing wife. Rayna hoped Delta Thorne would be all right. She liked the woman who’d sat up all night beside a dying friend.
After Rand left with the prisoner, who had not given any information, everyone went to work. Even Bob and Sister Bronwen. A turtle could walk faster, and their legs wobbled with each step, but they helped as much as they were able.
The place she’d decided the children would sleep was by a small pond with thick trees surrounding it. And the spot wasn’t too far from the main camp, which was an added bonus. She and Sarah were happy with the find.
The orphans would be safe.
By nightfall, the main camp didn’t look half-bad either.
They sat around the campfire, eating a meager meal of venison, squash, and corn. As long as the vegetables held out, she’d be okay.
When Brett finished, he and the others collected their horses. She watched him stride toward her and recalled the image of him during the height of the stampede. Somehow in all the pandemonium of those horrifying minutes, the leather strip that held his hair back had disappeared. His hair hung loose and free, swinging wild in the wind as he’d raced to save them.
His intense focus had frozen his face into a stone mask. She remembered thinking if he wore slashes of paint under his eyes, he’d resemble a fierce warrior, like those of his ancestors.
She’d never forget that look on his face. He wore the same expression now as he padded closer with the fluid motion of a wildcat. Her heart thudded with excitement.
Flashing a brief smile, he went to share some words with Bob. She turned back to her chores, knowing he’d come to her in a bit.
Sure enough, before riding out to stand guard, he took Rayna’s hand and pulled her into the shadows. There, he kissed her long and hard, stealing her breath.
She leaned into him and laid her hand on the muscled wall of his chest. She trembled with the realization that she loved this man who’d showed her his hidden sanctuary, then blazed a path to the stars.
A tingling of excitement swept through her as his fingers trailed down her arm before seeking the curve of her breast. He awakened the smoldering embers, making them flame. Aching heat and a hunger for his muscular body filled her.
A soft moan rose as Rayna clutched a handful of shirt, trying to draw him even closer.
Yes, she loved him and would until the day she died.
*
Brett hunched down on the eastern boundary of his property, scanning for any sign of movement. Since he hadn’t wanted to advertise that they stood watch, he’d given the order for no bonfires. It might be best for Dowlen to think they’d left.
He swung around to the direction of the camp, thinking of Rayna, Sarah, and the children sleeping in the woods. The night held a chill, and they would be cold.
If only he could put his arms around Rayna, pull her up next to him, and warm her.
The kiss they’d shared in the night shadows haunted his mind. That kiss had seared into his brain.
Hunger for the bone-picker’s daughter was growing stronger instead of weaker. He couldn’t imagine going for even one day without touching her, kissing her, wanting to pull her inside of him where nothing could harm her. The sweet ache was becoming unbearable.
How could it be forbidden when it felt so right?
Why should he have to squash his desire for her and keep telling himself no, when evil men did whatever they pleased without a second thought?
What was it Rayna had said about choices? Oh yes, he remembered. Sometimes we make the choices, and sometimes they make us. That had never been truer. Right now, they had little say in the choice-making. Everything seemed driven by outside forces shaping their lives.
All he and Rayna could do was hang on for dear life.
A rider coming from the camp appeared in Brett’s line of vision. He recognized Rand’s blue roan and relaxed. Rand drew up next to his mustang, dismounted, and strode toward Brett.
“Got the prisoner delivered to the jail,” Rand announced. “He got awful talkative before we got there. We pretty much knew all he said. Dowlen hired him and his friend to start the stampede. I think it’s enough for Cooper to arrest your neighbor.”
“That’s good. I just hope he can before Dowlen kills one of us or the orphans. How are things in camp?”
“Quiet except for the snoring coming from Sister Bronwen’s tepee. Man, that’ll wake the dead.”
“Are you sure it’s not Bob?”
“Not unless ol’ Buffalo Piss is in her tepee.” Rand grinned. “Anything’s possible, I reckon. Maybe pretending to hate each other is just a game. Think so?”
“Nothing those two do surprises me. How did things look in the woods?”
“No sign of anyone moving around there. Seem to be asleep.�
��
“Nothing happening here either,” Brett said. “If Dowlen thinks we’ve left, they might not try anything tonight.”
“You should know that I heard in town that he’s recruited almost every man from China Wells, and quite a few already from Corsicana. Looks like he’s gearing up for a huge push to run you out of the country.”
“Appreciate the warning.”
“Brett, I don’t think we can defend the Wild Horse with what we have. Just not enough men.”
“I know.” That worried Brett. But what choice did he have except to try? He wasn’t about to roll over and play dead.
“I think some in Battle Creek would help if we ask,” Rand suggested.
“Maybe.” Brett knew he could count a good number as friends. Still, asking them to fight for him went against the grain. It was one thing to be a friend to his kind, and completely another to ask them to risk their lives. “Did you learn any more about Delta?”
“Ran into old lady Jones, and she said Delta is on death’s door. ’Course in her opinion, anyone with a sore toe is fighting the grim reaper. I don’t put much stock in what she says.”
“Maybe Cooper will ride in tomorrow with news.”
Rand stretched. “Reckon I’ll find a place to hunker down for the night. I’m sure missing Callie and the kids. Lord, I’d like to snuggle up to her in a warm bed and get some shut-eye.”
Brett watched his middle brother move farther down the line. He knew how Rand was feeling, but right then he could’ve shot him for awakening the need for Rayna that was winding through his body like a determined gourd vine after he’d just gotten it tamped down.
Though the existence of men like Dowlen proved he could never let himself speak of it, he knew he loved her. He had since he first laid eyes on her in that jail and she kept talking about wanting his moccasins.
Rayna Harper was a special woman.
And she had his heart. Even if one day all this had to end.
Twenty-nine
Brett’s first glimpse of Rayna as he rode into camp the next morning stopped him in his tracks.
The way the newly risen sun glimmered in her auburn hair took his breath.
