The Wrangler

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The Wrangler Page 20

by Jillian Hart


  More spot fires flared to life in the grassy yard. Red embers drifted up and rained down over her, biting her cheek and charring her hair, but it didn't stop her. She choked, her hands blistering but she kept working, beating at the fire with all her might. They weren't going to make it. There were only the four of them. The fire was moving too fast.

  "Kid, race down to the nearest part of the creek." A familiar baritone boomed out of the darkness and took the shovel from Fred. "Bring back a bucket of water. Go. Fast."

  Dakota. He materialized out of the darkness like part of the night, outlined by black smoke and limned by devilish firelight. Feet braced apart, broad shoulders squared, hair tousled by the wind, he looked as wild as the prairie, as untamable as the sky.

  A sob choked her as he joined Howie at the front line, digging and shoveling dirt. Flames smothered and smoked, thrashing in protest. She raced to the next burning patch and beat it with all her might. Her lungs felt on fire, her throat raw. Wheezing from smoke and desperation, she wet her burlap sack and chased a flaming tumbleweed, striking it until it fell apart and its last flames died.

  "Kit, you can stop now." Something touched her shoulder, claiming her like a brand. Dakota.

  He loomed over her, streaked with soot, small burns on his cheek and arms, his shirt and trousers stained with sweat, burns and what looked like blood. A lot of blood.

  "Tannen started the fire." He sounded hollow, talking in that same matter-of-fact tone he'd used when he'd told her about his past. About being a convict. Sentenced for murder. "I've got him trussed up. I'll take him into the sheriff. Someone needs to stay up and keep an eye on this. Things are still hot and smoldering."

  "I know that." She didn't mean to sound sharp, but how dare he stand there like he used to, coming to her rescue, trying to make her see the man she used to believe him to be?

  That man was gone. He'd shattered her illusions, confessed to a terrible crime as if he'd been reporting on a rain storm, and walked away without looking back. And now he was here, tearing her bleeding heart open again. Anger tore through her with blinding force. Maybe her denial had worn off.

  She turned her back on him, not meaning to be cruel. The pain ripping through her was too much to endure. Not even the anger she felt could diminish it. She coughed on smoke, watched Mindy race to slap her gunnysack on a smoking spot that was still glowing red.

  She couldn’t thank him. She couldn't speak to him. She had to be strong.

  "You're okay now. It's safe for me to go." His voice, his presence reached out, trying to reassure her. "Goodbye, Kit."

  She didn't want him. She had to drive him from her heart. Her pulse thudded in her ears so loud she barely heard the pad of his retreat. Uncle Howie looked confused and concerned. Fred swiped at a tear.

  "Who was that man?" Howie asked in a hushed tone.

  "Folks call him Outlaw." Fred stared into the dark, where his hero had disappeared. "But he's not like that at all. He could walk right up to Blue. You don't know Blue, but he don't like strangers. And he tamed Honey, she'd been running wild for a long time. Horses judge the inside of a person, not the outside. He knew how to treat her wounds, and he taught me how to throw a lasso and build a house and talk to horses."

  "Did he, now?" Uncle Howie sounded impressed. "The sheriff's letter said there were a lot of dangerous men around. Guess not all of them are dangerous."

  She scrubbed at a burn on her cheek, staring into the darkness. She no longer felt Dakota's nearness, only the night without him in it.

  Chapter Nineteen

  At least that was behind him. Dakota followed the platinum trail the moonlight made on the country road. His feet dragged from pain and exhaustion, but the bullet wound the sheriff had patched up for him wasn't what hurt the most. There was no way to patch up the damage he'd done, no way to unbreak Kit's heart. He trudged down the road, glad the town was miles behind him.

  He'd hauled Tannen in, bleeding and unconscious, not sure if Beauregard would believe him. It helped a few drops of kerosene had fallen on Tannen's pant legs and boots. The sheriff wasn't surprised, come to find out, that Tannen had tried to make good on his threat and threw him in jail. Beauregard's nod of thanks had meant a lot.

  Dakota stopped in the shadowed road. His heart may be smashed into a billion pieces, but he had to smile. This was where he'd seen Kit for the first time, going head over tail off her horse, standing up to a charging bear with clenched fists. Hell, he loved her. He sat down on the same boulder where he'd made her sit and recover from her ordeal with the bear, while he'd fetched Blue.

  Kit. His chest hurt and healed at the same time thinking of her. He set his pack and rifle on the ground. He'd known he would fall for her. He'd known his heart would shatter in the end. But that didn't stop him. The torture of a broken heart, worse than all the wounds he'd endured combined, was because of her. Would he go back and change things if he could do it over?

  No. Not a chance.

  Loving her was the best thing that had happened to him. It had made his life. The fall had been worth it. He'd take this pain gladly for the chance to have been with her.

  His only regret was that he'd harmed her. That was the last thing he would ever want.

  He took a moment to breathe in the peace with the darkly pearled prairie all around him. He'd miss this place, too. Big, endless sky. Long ribbon of road cutting through the whispering grasses. A shadow of a horse and rider appeared from the nearby driveway.

  "Kit." His body responded to her, fast and hard, but then he gained control. It was over. No sense torturing himself with what he couldn't have. He had to accept it. Take whatever she'd come to say to him like a man. After the way he'd hurt her, he deserved whatever she threw at him.

  "Outlaw." She drew Blue to a stop. "What are you doing sitting by my road?"

  "Resting. Don't worry, I'm moving on." He did his best to close up his heart and put the old walls around it. Impossible, as they were no longer there. "You won't have any problems from me."

  He wanted her to be happy. He wanted everything good and precious in this world for her.

  She stared down at him from Blue's back. The horse gave a welcoming nicker, and held out his nose for petting.

  "Hey, buddy." He couldn't resist rubbing Blue one more time. "You're a good guy. Take care of Kit for me."

  Blue blew out a horsy snort, as if that were a given.

  "I don't like the way you've charmed my horse." She dismounted on the shadowed side, where he couldn’t see her. He didn't know how to read her tone.

  Likely she was gearing up to tell him exactly what she thought of him. He wished he could harden his heart to keep her words from torturing him less.

  "Thank you for stopping Tannen." She stepped into the moonlight, beauty in the night. "Who knows what would have happened if you hadn't been there? I wouldn’t have heard the gunfire, we wouldn’t have spotted the fire and stopped it in time. It would have burned the house, maybe the horses. There's no telling if I could have gotten to them in time to set them free. Even Blue."

  Blue arched his brows and nodded in agreement.

  "It was the right thing to do." He stood slowly, hoping she wouldn't notice the blood dried on his shirt. "I had a feeling Tannen would make good on his threat. I couldn't leave until I stopped him."

  "The sheriff must have been surprised to find you at his door." She wrapped her arms around her chest like a shield. "The last time he spoke to you, he threatened a lynching."

  "Guess he changed his mind." He shrugged, as if he had no explanation. "Wouldn't be the first time I came close to a lynching."

  "But the sheriff let you go." It would be easy to let her anger and hurt take her to an ugly place. A fourteen year old girl. She hurt for that child, for the tragedy, but did she really believe Dakota could commit such an atrocious, brutal act? Would a man with that dark, damaged soul be the same man who risked being hung in order to save her home and her dreams? Would a man be able to hide that kind
of evil behind the sweetest tenderness she'd ever known?

  "The sheriff and I came to an understanding." Dakota moved stiffly, hefting his belongings from the shadows. "I'm sorry, Kit. I know I hurt you."

  "You did. You kept secrets from me."

  "You told me the past didn't matter." A bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his chiseled mouth as he took his first step away. "I knew better. The fault lies with me."

  Blue shook his head back and forth and snorted out a nose full of air in protest. His sweet chocolate eyes filled with hurt. He caught Dakota's shirtsleeve with his teeth, careful to get only the sleeve, and bit down hard, holding on.

  "Hey, I'll miss you too." Dakota stopped, winced. It looked like this was breaking him. He bowed his head, talking low to the stallion, but Blue refused to let go. Even when Dakota tickled his whiskers. "C'mon, Blue. Do it for your lady. Let me go."

  The stallion answered with a low-throated, stubborn-sounding nicker.

  "I can't believe he's doing this to you." She rubbed her horse's neck, trying to calm him. Dakota did look like a man outside of the law in his black Stetson, black clothes and fearless demeanor, mighty and strong. The moonlight clung to him, haloing him, as if hinting at the true nature of the man.

  "There's a first time for everything, I guess." He stared at the ground, not meeting her gaze.

  "I guess he doesn't want you to leave." Her words sounded thick, gruff with emotion. Every inch of her tingled in recognition of his nearness and everything he'd meant to her. "Blue has never behaved like this with anyone, not even me."

  "I have a way with horses." He shrugged.

  "Yes, you do." She took off her hat, hung it on her saddle horn and ran her fingers through her hair. The anger faded from her and she leaned back against Blue's side, staring down at her hands. "I've done a lot of thinking since you left with Tannen."

  "Go ahead, say what you need to. Get it off your chest, so you don't carry it around with you." He steeled his spine, bracing himself for her worst. "Get it all out. It's the best way for you."

  "Fine. This is what I have to say, and I want you to listen. Since you met me on this road and saved my life from the bear, you helped me protect and provide for my brother and sister. You helped me build a corral and a house and capture a herd of mustangs. You gave me my dreams, Dakota. Without expecting anything in return."

  He rubbed his forehead, not able to take it any longer. She was torturing him. Building him up for the fall. Emotion tangled into a coil in his chest, lassoing around his heart. Here it comes, he thought. Here was where she told him how disgusted she was. That she thought he was a monster.

  "Unlike Tannen," she said, stepping closer. The moonlight fell behind her, shadowing her face. Leaving her in darkness. Perhaps it was for the best that he remember her this way, her face lost to him. He would never have to see the hate and revulsion on her face. He'd never see the love die forever in her eyes.

  "He did everything to take my dreams, when he had no right to. He attacked me, he lusted after my sister and he tried to destroy everything I worked for because I'd crossed him, because he lost fair and square. I would have believed the story the sheriff told me if it had been about Tannen. But not you."

  He blinked. Something was wrong with his ears. He hadn't heard her right. "What did you say?"

  "It doesn't make sense. You said it was true, but I won't believe it until you tell me the whole story. Everything." Her voice cracked. "You owe me the truth, Dakota, the real truth."

  He thought of the one night spent together locked in an embrace, their bodies joined, their souls touching and he swiped his hand over his face. No one had ever asked him for the whole story, not even his parents. She disarmed him, stripped him of whatever defenses had been holding him up. His knees gave out and he reached for the boulder. He sat, and Blue edged in closer, refusing to let go.

  That horse got to him, too. His throat closed up and he leaned his forehead against the stallion's cheek. Overwhelmed. He swallowed down emotion, blinked back the surprising burn behind his eyes and struggled to collect himself.

  Something warm and soft touched his arm. Kit's hand rested on his forearm. She'd knelt in the road in front of him, gazing up at him with caring in her eyes. It was as if she already knew what he would say.

  "One night I woke to a ruckus outside the bunkhouse." He choked the words past the lump in his throat. "The boss's wife was screaming and wailing, angry voices, folks were shouting. The door flung open and Deter and the foreman hauled me out of my bunk. I was blinking, sleepy, not knowing what in blazes was going on. Next thing I know I was on the ground outside and my boss was beating the hell out of me."

  He had to stop to clear his throat. Too much emotion in it. It had been a story locked within him, one he'd never thought he'd take out in the light. "He wanted to know why I'd done such a thing. I didn't know what he was talking about, but no one would believe me."

  "Why would they think it was you?" Gentle that question, defeating him completely.

  He squeezed his eyes shut so tight they hurt. Her hand on his arm soothed like the greatest comfort he'd known in almost nine years. Even after he'd kept the truth from her, she still treated him like this. He'd blown it. He could see now he should have told her the truth from the start. Maybe then they would have had a chance. He could have spent his life loving her.

  "I was giving the boss's little girl riding lessons." Sorrow slammed into him. What happened to that child, dying like that, suffering...he couldn't endure it. "Patsy had gotten a horse for her fourteenth birthday. I never—" His throat closed up. He couldn't imagine violating a child that way. Tears scorched his eyes for that little girl. "Someone had taken her from her bedroom out the window and hauled her off into a field. Whoever did it left a boot print in the flowerbed and a trail of blood. That's how they found her."

  "And you'd been asleep. What about the other hired men? Weren't they there, sleeping, too? They would have known if you'd been in and out of the bunkhouse."

  "They'd been up in the barn that night with a difficult foaling. Since it was the boss's most prized mare, everyone had been helping. I left once the foal was born, and only one other hand was in the bunkhouse with me. Old Charlie, who snored like a lumberjack and slept deep enough that cannon fire wouldn't wake him. The boot print almost matched mine, was a bit larger, but not by much. That's the only reason the judge didn't have me executed."

  There, he'd said it. He'd gotten the entire thing out. Maybe now she wouldn’t hate him as much. Maybe the hurt he'd caused her would lessen, and she could go on with her life, find another man and trust him some day. It shattered him that whoever that man was, it couldn't be him. How could she trust him now?

  "In blaming you, they never found the real murderer?" She gazed up at him, her long hair framing her heart-shaped face. Her dear face.

  "I always figured it was one of the migrant workers. It was harvest season, and there was wheat to cut. That night was their last day on the farm, they moved on. Who knows where? Whoever that monster was, no one stopped him. I live with that every day."

  "That wasn’t your fault." Kind, when she should be otherwise. In the end, he wasn't a man she would trust.

  He pushed off the boulder. Blue still clung to him.

  "You have to let go, buddy." He was calm enough now that the story was told and he'd fixed what he could of the damage he'd done. He wedged a finger into Blue's mouth at the bit and freed his shirt. He held tight to the bridle strap, keeping Blue from clamping hold again. "Sorry. You're a good horse, Blue."

  He wanted to say a lot of other things, like how highly he thought of Kit, how he'd always love her, how he'd never be able to thank her enough. Because of her, he'd found himself, the man he'd been meant to be. But he didn't say it. Somehow he managed to hold all of it inside, grab his pack, his bedroll and his gun and hoist them over his shoulder.

  "Be happy, Kit." That was all he needed in life. To know that she was happy.

>   "Hey, you can't leave yet." She swirled to her feet, graceful and lithe, as lovely as star shine. "I still owe you fifty-one dollars."

  "Forget it." He wasn't going to accept her money.

  "I pay my debts, Mister. You know that. Maybe you'd like to take Honey instead. You need a horse, and that way we'll be square."

  "I can't afford a horse." Honey was worth a great deal more than fifty-one dollars. "Come winter, it will be too costly to board her."

  "I have a solution for that." She came to him like a promise, like the first brush of dawn at the end of a long dark night. "You can keep her in my barn. Maybe you'd like to stay, too."

  "I don't think I can." Her unexpected generosity touched him. "After what you've meant to me, I can't go back to working for you. I'll get a job somewhere. Don't you worry."

  "I wasn't offering you a job." She laid the flat of her hand on his chest.

  He went rigid, unable to believe. He couldn't make his mind accept what she was offering. If she didn't want him to work for her, it seemed impossible she could forgive him. But wasn't that what she was doing? "But I basically lied to you about who I really am."

  "You omitted a few things, it's true, but you also showed me the truth. You let me know with every word and deed exactly the kind of man you are. I want you to stay with me."

  "I want to stay, too." He pulled her into his arms, trapping her against his chest, clinging to her with all of his might. He buried his face in her hair, fighting the surge of emotion threatening to carry him away. "I love you, Kit. I feel as if I've loved you forever."

  "What a coincidence. That's the way I love you." She rose up on tiptoe and her lips met his. Slow and sweet at first, then deeper and desperate. He kissed her with everything he had, all his love, all his tenderness. She still loved him. He could not believe his good luck.

  His fortune had finally turned for the better. No, for the best. She was his very life. He held her against him, his sweet Kit, more grateful than there were words to say. "You said you wanted to be a spinster, but I'm hoping you'll put that one wish aside and marry me."

 

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