The Wrangler

by Jillian Hart

  "I came to talk to your uncle." He nudged his gelding closer, leaning one gloved hand on his saddle's pommel. "He wouldn’t be around, would he?"

  "Uncle Ho-wie?" The words croaked out of her suddenly tight throat.

  "There's a business matter he and I need to discuss."

  "He's, uh—" The good news was she'd managed to be convincing last night. The bad news was Uncle Howie was in St. Louis. "—off takin' care of errands," she finished lamely.

  "Too bad. This can't wait. I need my money by sundown."

  "Your money?" A cold hand gripped her midsection, a warning of what was to come.

  "I told your uncle about the mortgage when I played cards with him last night. Hubert had a hand that couldn't lose, so I loaned him cash against this land."

  Typical Pa. She squeezed her eyes shut. She blew out a breath, opened her eyes and stared down at the toes of her riding boots, trying to keep her composure. Pa had many weaknesses, he was frail. Life had broken him long ago and he'd never recovered. Still, his betrayal hurt.

  "I have the document if you want to read it." Tannen produced a folded piece of parchment from his shirt pocket. "It's all nice and legal, thanks to the town lawyer."

  "I want—I mean, I'm sure Uncle Howie will want to read it." Her hand shook as she stepped forward to take the folded parchment.

  The instant she seized the document, Tannen's grip clamped around her wrist, holding on like a steel band. The faint scent of whiskey carried on the wind. He didn't take his gaze from her. It felt too intense, aggressive somehow.

  She gritted her teeth, refusing to be afraid, and wrenched free.

  "You're a real looker, Kit. You know that? And so's your little sister over there." He smiled like a good guy, like someone trustworthy, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I can see why Hubert kept you two hidden here. With good reason. I need one hundred dollars by sundown, and if you can't come up with it, you and I can make other arrangements."

  Her throat went dry. Lust flickered in his gaze as he looked her up and down, leaving no doubt as to what he intended to take in trade.

  "Do we have a problem?" Dakota's deep voice thundered with latent threat. His shadow fell across her, a protective warrior ready for battle.

  "Outlaw." Tannen paled a little around the edges. "I see you survived. Too bad. My gunman had been shooting to kill."

  "I'm hard to kill. Don't you forget that." Dakota rested his hand on his holstered revolver. "Now move along."

  "I want payment, one way or another, or this land is mine." Tannen wheeled his horse around and galloped from sight.

  "I don't like him." The steel in Dakota's tone made Kit shiver.

  She was glad he was on her side.

  Chapter Seven

  How could everything go this wrong this fast? Kit couldn't believe it. There was a mortgage on the land. She wrenched away from Dakota and stormed toward the place where the grasses grew wild, beyond the tent where the sun burned her eyes. They were in debt by hundreds of dollars?

  Her head spun, she couldn’t seem to get any air. It was exactly like Pa. He'd mortgaged their future, as always, and he'd walked away without telling her because he hated conflict. The task of providing for her brother and sister went from manageable to gargantuan. So much for her plans.

  "What are you going to do now?" Dakota's question carried on the wind, his approach as silent as a stalking wolf.

  "No idea. Haven't figured that out yet."

  "You have options. To stay and pay it, or pack up and leave."

  "Thanks." She rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't have thought of that."

  "Hey, trying to help." The corners of his mouth tipped upward. "Are you all right?"

  "No, but getting better." She blew out a breath, trying to master her emotions. She had Mindy and Fred depending on her. She had to figure this out. "I don't want to lose this land."

  "No, but the debt isn't yours."

  "If I don't pay it, Tannen takes the property and we'll be homeless again."

  "You have last night's winnings. That's one payment." His words were steady and certain. Was that a note of caring she heard?

  And why did she want to lean on him—not much, but enough that she didn't feel quite as alone. Even if she knew what depending on a man got you, he made her feel as if she could lean on him. It wasn't a comfortable feeling.

  "You're right." Best to ignore her needs and stand on her own two feet. No leaning allowed.

  She bit her bottom lip, staring out at the endless prairie. The sky shone robin's egg blue with only a few streaks of stray white clouds. She loved this place. When she looked out at the wild land she saw fences and grazing horses, haystacks around a new barn and a cozy house on the rise. A real home, a real life, and her brother and sister happy.

  That was worth fighting for.

  "I guess Howie is going to have to pay more visits to town." It was the only solution. She'd won once, and she'd do it again. As many times as it took.

  "You think that's a good solution?"

  "Unless you can think of a better one."

  "Maybe it's time to cut your losses. Sell the land, pay the debt and take the difference with you. It might be enough for a good start someplace safer for a lone woman and two kids."

  "That's sensible." Yearning filled her, watching the sea of grass sway in the restless wind. "I could find a job cleaning house or doing laundry. Serving food or changing linens in a hotel. But I would never be happy."

  "What about Fred and Mindy?"

  Mindy didn't feel safe here, but Fred loved the prairie. He loved horses, too. She pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead, where a headache threatened. "They would be closer to school."

  "Then you have your answer."

  "You're trying to talk me into leaving. Why?"

  "You look like you need a little guidance."

  "And you know best?" She planted her hands on her hips. "Do you have any qualifications for that?"

  "None I want to share." He bit back a smile, shook his head, and stared out at the stretching reach of the prairie. "Does this mean you've made up your mind?"

  "There's only one real decision I can make. All other options take us down a road of maybes. Maybe I'll find a job, maybe we'll find a place to live, maybe we'll be happy. We're happy enough here. We voted to stay here. We wanted it enough to risk Pa leaving us."

  He heard the pain in her voice, the love for her father. "He should have done better by you."

  "No doubt." Shadows darkened her eyes. "He had his troubles, but he was a good pa. Kind. Funny. For better or worse, he did the best he could."

  "I know the feeling. My pa always meant well, but he was a hard man. It was the way he was raised, with little forgiveness or mercy, but I'll always love him."

  "There were good times, too." She bit her lip. "He had a lot of good in him. He was kind and funny and patient, but it was never the stronger part of him."

  "Most folks are like that." He'd seen too much of it in his life until it was all he believed. But Kit, she was different. The wind swirled her ruffled hem around her ankles, exposing her men's riding boots.

  Not her father's boots, he realized, for they looked like they fit her perfectly. How long had she been holding things together for her family? How long had she been doing a man's work and responsibilities? "Does this mean you'll stay and pay off Tannen? Last night didn't end well."

  "Not with Tannen trying to rob me. But I can try a different saloon and keep my distance from him."

  "Someone is bound to figure it out, then what?"

  "I haven't thought that far. I'm taking my grand plan one step at a time."

  Don't ask, don't be curious, he tried to tell himself, but it didn't work. "Grand plan?"

  "It's a dream, that's all. One I've had since I was a little girl." A gust blew strong, and she grabbed the brim of her gray Stetson. She made a stunning picture, golden woman, green earth, sun-filled sky. "It was a dream that grew stronger the longer we stayed
in Montana. When Pa won this place, it felt like destiny. We had land, good land, and all we needed were horses."

  "Horses?" His boots moved him closer when he ought to stay back.

  "The wild mustangs. They run across my land all the time, coming to the spring just west of here to drink. One night I saw them running in the night and I thought, Blue is fast, I'm decent with a lasso. I could catch a few mares at a time, get my own herd started. Over the years, I'd have a way to earn a living."

  "You're good with horses, I have to give you that." He thought of Blue, the big stallion as gentle as a lamb. She'd done that. "It's possible. It's a good plan."

  "If I can keep the land." She blew out a shaky breath, chin firm, jaw set. "I have to keep this land."

  "I can understand what having a place like this means."

  "How long have you been like this, without a home?"

  "I was about your age. That makes it eight years ago." The wild Montana winds blew harder, beating against his shirt, making his chest feel hollow. He never spoke of this to anyone.

  "What happened eight years ago?" Her question came gently, her concern sincere.

  Don't be roped in by her caring nature, he thought. The truth stuck in his throat and refused to budge. No way could he say those terrible, terrible words.

  "Sorry, there I go being nosy. It happens. One of my many faults." Her light tone couldn't hide her caring.

  He was a sucker for that. It had been so long since anyone had cared about him. His wanting to matter to someone, even incidentally, was a weakness. He hung his head, feet braced, hands fisted, wishing he could make sense of the need inside him. "I can't believe you have any faults."

  "Was that sarcasm?" Her soft laughter was the sweetest sound. "Go ask my sister and brother. They could recite a list of my flaws for at least ten minutes straight."

  "Ten minutes? No. I'd believe maybe five minutes."

  "Hey. That's not a gentlemanly thing to say."

  "I'm no gentleman."

  Golden tendrils escaped her braid to lash across her face, bringing his attention to her mouth. Her rose-petal pink mouth. Heat stirred in his blood, but could he turn away? Not even if he tried.

  "I guess not." Dimples bracketed her smile. "No gentleman takes a bullet the way you did."

  "Not my first bullet."

  "So, you are the outlaw type. What am I doing letting you hang around?"

  "I've been asking myself that all morning." His fingers reached out of their own accord to brush the honeyed lock of hair out of her eyes. Warm satin, soft silk. A lightning bolt cleaved straight through him when he touched her. She brought out the weakness in him.

  She didn't move as he tucked the strands of hair beneath her hat band. He didn't fool himself thinking that her heart had stopped beating the way his had. An innocent female like her would never be attracted to a rough, shiftless horseman like him. His only saving grace.

  He stepped back, fighting the desire rising in his blood. "I've got the mare to tend. You've got Tannen to pay. You'd be wise to look over that document and make sure it's authentic."

  "Oh, I'm sure it is." She pulled the parchment out of her skirt pocket and unfolded it. "It's Pa's signature. No doubt about it. Well, there is one good thing. After I make this dang payment, I'll still have some cash."

  "That is good news. There's a lumber mill east of here, beyond Gold Dust City, probably a half day by wagon. I spotted it on my travels."

  "And it's where I bought the wood for the fence. What are you doing wandering through the territory?"

  "I'm looking for work. Or I was. Looks like I found it."

  "Here? I never said I'd hire you. Besides, you're wounded. Damaged. I'm not hiring a damaged worker."

  "And whose fault is that?" Humor looked amazing on him, putting midnight-blue sparks in his dark eyes.

  "Mine?"

  "Yours." The hard granite planes of his face gentled with his amusement, hinting at a deeper, hidden softness somewhere within. "You owe me. The least you can do is hire me."

  "What about your arm?" Fine, she was concerned about him. She couldn’t help it.

  "It's nothing."

  "It didn't feel that way last night when you were bleeding."

  "It looked worse than it was." He was tough. It radiated from him like heat from the sun. "I'm already on the mend. I can do a lot around here. Look after the mare. Help with the fencing. Keep an eye on that hill over there."

  Where the tracks had been. "I have a feeling it was Tannen."

  "I have the same feeling." He squinted into the sun-swept prairie. He looked hard and tough, like a man who made his living by his gun.

  Was it smart to let a man like that stay around? But he'd shown her another side, too. The horses responded to him with trust. He radiated a strong, calm gentleness that threatened to rope her right in.

  She set her chin. Not if she could help it. She folded the document and stuffed it into her pocket. "Why exactly aren't you lying down?"

  "Likely I lack the common sense to."

  "Exactly. Thank you." She bit the inside of her cheek to keep the smile from her lips. "You're the first man I've come across who can admit to that flaw."

  "Well, it's easy with me because I have too many to try and hide."

  "I noticed that right off."

  "It was that obvious?"

  "More than you realize. All those rock-solid muscles can't hide a thing." She headed toward the sod stable and the nearby shadows where the palomino mare lay.

  The animal's head came off the ground in fright, but her vulnerable gaze found Dakota's, and she calmed.

  "Now I know why horses take to you." She eased down beside the mare.

  "They can't see the flaws?" His tone softened. The granite-hewn outlaw had decided to show his softer side.

  "Exactly." She stroked the light golden neck and platinum mane. "Don't be taken in by him, girl. He's a man. You can't depend on them when you really need them."

  "Some men," he agreed amiably, took a look in the tin of medical supplies on the edge of the blanket and chose a clean cloth and a small jar of honey.

  The mare snorted as soon as he touched her raw wound and struggled to stand.

  "Whoa there, easy now." His soothing drawl could stop the wind from blowing, such a comforting sound even the mare seemed reassured.

  And she felt lulled.

  Lulled. Not exactly the reaction she wanted to have to the man. She sat back on the blanket, trying to break the spell Dakota had put on her. She spotted Fred peeking around the corner of the soddy. Perfect timing.

  "Come on over," she waved to him. "But come slow."

  "Mindy said to give ya this." He thrust out the pail full of clean cloths. "She looks hurt real bad. Did a bear try to eat her, too?"

  "No, a mountain lion." Dakota took the pail, calm and slow. "Do you want to sit and watch?"

  "Yeah." Fred gazed at the mare with wonder. "We see herds run through here all the time. There's this little band of ones we thought we otta try to get first. Plus, the black stallion's herd waters up at the spring near here. Kit, do you reckon she was one of the black stallion's palominos we've spotted racin' by?"

  "It's likely."

  "Sometimes we sit up on the rise at night and wait for 'em," Fred explained as he hunkered down a safe distance away from the mare. She watched him warily, her skin flicking, her eyes white-rimmed. "Don't we, Kit? We count shooting stars until we spot 'em. Sometimes they're runnin', sometimes they're grazin'. A couple times they even come up close and drink at our part of the creek."

  "Is that right?" Dakota asked. The mare relaxed as he stroked her with his big, well-shaped hands. She let her head rest on the grass. Only her heaving sides spoke of her fears and her pain. "Must be more than one herd in the area."

  "Yep, but the black stallion and his herd are almost always here. Every night we watch for 'em, we see 'em. Kit said I can have one of the mustangs for my very own since I'm old enough to help build the ranch."


  "You'll be a good horse owner," Dakota said.

  "I'll do my best!" Fred gazed up at the man like he'd hung the moon. Looked like the horse wasn't the only one falling beneath the man's spell. "Palominos are my favorite."

  "I'm partial to them, too. What can you tell me about this mare?" Dakota set the pail down and sorted through it. "How old is she?"

  "She's got white around her mouth. She's old. Maybe that's why the mountain lion tried to attack her."

  "You have a good eye, kid."

  "Kit taught me everything I know about horses. I help her take care of Blue and Jack. I can brush and comb 'em, I can clean out their hooves and I wash all their tack."

  "Do you help feed and water them, too?"

  "Uh huh."

  "Sounds to me like you're already a fine horseman." Dakota flashed the boy a kind smile.

  That put a lump in her throat. Her pulse went ka-thump. Why couldn't she resist him? She was tougher than this. She peered through her lashes at the man cleaning the caked blood from the mare's wounds.

  The day a man could lull her was a sad day indeed.

  "That's what I wanna be one day. A horseman." Fred's chatter blended into the background, like the lark song and the rustling wind as Dakota dabbed gently at the worst of the deep gashes on the mare's flanks.

  But the man and his kindheartedness held her attention as fixedly as the sun did the earth.

  "'Scuse, me, Miss Kit?" Elderly Mr. Mason rounded the corner of the barn. His long skinny nose and hollowed cheekbones were hardly visible behind the bushy tangle his mustache and beard had become. "I've got the smokehouse ready."

  "I'll bridle the horses, and we'll be right over to help." She handed Dakota the cloth, hopping to her feet before their fingers could brush.

  The mare, worried over the newcomer, struggled to get on her feet again, leaving Dakota busily calming her. Kit escaped without glancing back, doing her best to shut out the temptation of his voice.

  "Can I stay and help Dakota?" Fred asked, eagerly hopping after her. "Can I? I can help him feed her. I'm real good at that."

  "Didn't you want to help slice and smoke the meat?" She untied Jack's picket. "You were all excited about it earlier."