She interrupted abruptly.
“Does this rambling diatribe have a point?”
He gave her that aggravating grin he used so well.
“The point is that you treated him downright heartlessly after he went through so much just to see you and recite poetry to you and give you one more chance to marry him.”
“No,” she said sarcastically, “as usual, you have got it wrong. Terry knew when he rode out here that my refusal of his proposal was final, that my feelings for him were not of that kind. He wanted more pictures to remember me by and to say another farewell.”
“Sounds foolish to me,” Cole said conversationally, glancing around at the land that lay ahead. “Looks like he’d either bust a gut trying to persuade you to change your mind or stay home and tend to business. This’s a busy time of year on a ranch.”
“I told you, he doesn’t work at anything but his poetry and photography. Besides their ranch, his family owns the Colorado Queen gold mine and most of three counties.”
“Well, then,” he said, nodding judiciously, “how come you’re letting him get away?”
Her anger grew.
“That is precisely what I would expect from you,” she said, furious now. “So I strike you as a greedy, insincere, shallow person who can be bought?”
Her obvious rage didn’t cause him to turn a hair.
“Now, now, no need to get yourself in a lather. I wasn’t necessarily talking about you, personally.”
“It certainly sounded as if you were when you used the phrase ‘I don’t know why you let him get away.’ ”
“More accurately, I was speaking of women in general.”
“Ah!” she cried. “Just as I thought!”
“Then why did you take it as personal?”
“Never mind,” she said, flapping her hand at him impatiently. “I’d be curious to know why you have such a low opinion of women in general.”
“Experience.”
“You think most women are so mercenary they’d use money as a reason to marry?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think it—I’ve seen it. I’ve seen many a good man shot out of the saddle when that saddle’s about all he owned.”
“You don’t know what really happened with any man and woman if you weren’t there.”
“I was there.”
She stared at him, amazed.
“You were in love? You asked a woman to marry you?”
He frowned at her.
“How come you look so surprised?”
“You … well, you don’t seem the domestic type to me.”
“Back then I was too young to know better.”
She knew she was still staring rudely, but she couldn’t help herself.
“Who was she?”
“Heck of it is,” he said, laughing a little, “she was a rich girl. She didn’t need my money.”
“Maybe she broke it off because you were a Ranger and she wouldn’t let herself love you because you might get killed.”
He eyed her suspiciously.
“How’d you know I was a Ranger then?”
She smiled.
“I guessed.”
“You’re right. But Mary knew that and we were all set to tie the knot and her folks were askin’ me over to supper right along until they ran into somebody who set ‘em straight about which family of McCords I was from.”
“Were the other McCords wealthy?”
He gave that definite little nod.
“Yep. The Circle M McCords owned the biggest part of the county we lived in. Once the Lassiters learned they’d jumped to the wrong conclusion about who was my daddy—and my mother—I never saw Mary again.”
“Well, then!” Aurora said triumphantly. “Your sweetheart wasn’t a gold digger, her family was a bunch of snobs.”
“My mother being Chickasaw likely had something to do with it, too,” he said, “but from what I knew of her papa, he would never have let that worry him any if I’d been heir to the Circle M Land and Cattle Company.”
“But that’s her papa, don’t you see? You’ve taken a low opinion of all women when the real greedy one in this deal is a man.”
“She let him get away with it, didn’t she? She could’ve run away and come to me.”
The pain from so long ago shimmered fresh and new in his voice. Angry as she was with him, Aurora ached to comfort him.
“She swore she loved me,” Cole said, “and I, young fool that I was, believed her.”
“How old were you?” she said softly.
“Eighteen,” he said. “Two years a Ranger and tough as whit-leather. But she flat broke my heart.”
Aurora’s heart broke, too, right then, for the boy he had been.
And she fell in love with that boy. He might be a hard man now, he might be just like all the other men she’d ever known, her father included, who were selfish and unsentimental and considered themselves the boss of all women, but long ago, when he had been a boy of eighteen, Cole McCord had truly loved a woman.
But that was then and this was now. And what did she care, anyhow?
He straightened in the saddle and put his heels down, speeding up a little.
“Turns out the old man was doing her a favor, though,” he said harshly, “and she was smart to listen to him. I would’ve been nothing but bad for her.”
“That’s not true!” Aurora cried, even though she would’ve agreed with him only a few minutes earlier. “She made a terrible mistake.”
Cole threw her a startled, sideways glance, smooched to his horse, and moved on out. Her horse kept pace.
“Seems to me that’s a pretty strong statement for you to make about a man you hardly know,” he said.
“I know you … some,” she said, seeing the mysterious shadows in his eyes again.
“You think you do.”
“You really loved her,” she said, “I know that much. And that could never have been bad for her.”
“Aurora,” he said solemnly, “you don’t have the slightest notion of what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, I do. You’re a good man, Cole, and you loved her, so what more could she want?”
“I’m a good man with a gun. That’s why you hired me, so let it go at that.”
They found a fine place for the nooning, better than any they’d had since the drive began. It was a large, open meadow, bounded on two sides by tree-covered hills, with a narrow, rushing river running through it. Aurora’s heart lifted as soon as they came around the bend in the trail and saw it—it was a homey little nook set beside the endless trail.
“I know! Let’s have a picnic!” she said as soon as they rode to the edge of it. “In fact, let’s stay the night and not travel this afternoon. Oh, Cole, wouldn’t that be fun? Everybody’s tired.”
She turned to see Cole grinning at her.
“Speak for yourself,” he said. “I’m good for forty more miles at least.”
“We can rest our horses,” she said, frowning at him because of the way he was looking at her. “You and I can ride our favorites again tomorrow.”
“My horse doesn’t need to rest,” he said.
“What? Why are you smiling at me as if you’re humoring me or something?”
“I am. You’re like a little kid sometimes.”
“Because I want to have a picnic? You’d do better to be a little more fun-loving yourself.”
He cocked his head as if to concede that point, still smiling at her as if she were a precocious ten-year-old.
“And you don’t need to be bragging on that rangy nag you’re so fond of riding,” she said. “My Shy Boy can leave him to eat dust any old day of the week.”
He gave her a narrow-eyed stare.
“Be careful,” he said. “Watch that busy tongue of yours or it’ll get you in trouble.”
“I’m not worried. I challenge you to a horse race.”
He shook his head.
“See what I mean? Can’t even wait for the oth
ers to get here for the picnic to start, just like a little kid. Or …”
He fixed the most infuriating grin on his face.
“… or are you afraid for the whole crew to see Shy Boy get beat?”
“All right. Now you’ve done it. We’ll go back and guide the others in and as soon as the herd’s here, I will run that broomtail of yours right into the ground. Shy Boy can beat him by no less than two lengths.”
“You’re gonna get calluses from patting your own back,” he said. “Border and I’ll help you out by leaving you so far behind you’ll have time to think about it.”
They exchanged playful insults all the way back to Cookie’s and Nate’s wagons. Then, after giving them directions to the pretty valley, they headed back to it again with Cole scouting both sides of the trail in long semicircles. He never got out of sight of Aurora, though, and she liked that.
Until she thought about it and realized how much she was relying on him. That was why she got those feelings of connection to him sometimes. That was why she needed to learn to shoot for herself and become more independent, so by the time they reached her new home she’d be feeling disconnected from him. Thank goodness, he wasn’t riding right beside her and talking to her all the time.
Cookie and Nate weren’t far behind when they rode for the second time into the expanse of green grass cut in two by the silver river. The place soon looked like the coziest, most beautiful camp in the world, with the wagons placed on opposite ends of the flat and the coffee making over the fire. Newt came in with the remuda, and the herd followed.
With so much grass and water close at hand, the cattle settled in swiftly, even though they weren’t particularly tired and had been driven only slightly more than half their usual distance for a day. As soon as they’d eaten the meal Cookie hastily prepared, the men immediately fell into the spirit of the holiday.
“We’re celebrating that we’ll cross into New Mexico Territory tomorrow,” Aurora told them, as the first ones finished eating.
“And we’ll put our hearts into it, too,” Monte called back, as he threw his dishes into the wreck pan. “No telling when we’ll have any more time off.”
“First event of the day!” Cole shouted, throwing his in, too. “Our trail boss has challenged me to a horse race.”
Cheers greeted that information, and everyone started gathering around, looking from Cole to Aurora and back again with big grins.
“Which horses?” Frank shouted.
“My bay roan and her sorrel.”
“Shy Boy will win,” Aurora said. “You boys all know how fast he is.”
“What you don’t know is that my horse is a running fool with no quit in him,” Cole said. “Put your money on me if you don’t want to lose it.”
“Don’t listen to him, men,” Aurora shouted. “I’d hate to see half of you broke before you even draw your pay.”
“Border Crossing got his name because he carried me across the Rio Grande ahead of a whole passel of Federales,” Cole said. “He’s saved my bacon more times than I can count. Think about it, boys.”
Aurora started for her horse, Cole strode toward his. At Shy Boy’s head, she turned, and they looked at each other while the crew stopped wagering to watch and listen.
“From that tree over there until a hoof splashes in the water?” she called loudly. “Loser gets dunked in the river?”
Loud cheers from the crew approved the plan.
Cole cocked his head and looked her over, and her mount, as if he’d never seen them before. His dark eyes took on a wicked glint.
“You’re on!”
“On the count of three!” Cookie yelled, and hurried to station himself at the starting line.
Once there, with Cole and Aurora mounted and trotting to him, he shouted again.
“Monte. You and Frank. Stand at the finish line in case there’s any question.”
“Better get out of your boots,” Cole yelled, loud enough for everyone to hear, while he grinned at Aurora.
He lifted one foot and then the other to pull his off and drop them, spurs clinking, to the ground.
“Take a deep breath, too, Aurora, ‘cause I’m fixing to hold every inch of you under the water. I’m glad you thought about that dunking business—makes the race even more interestin’.”
“How come you’ve still got that gold watch in your pocket, then?” Aurora shouted back. “Better leave it with Cookie so it won’t be ruined.”
“Don’t you be worrying about my watch,” Cole said. “I don’t aim to get wet above the knees.”
“You’re in for a big surprise, then,” Aurora taunted him. “Leave your hat here, too—I’d hate to ruin it.”
Cole laughed.
“Run that broomtail for the sake of your honor,” he said.
The men lined up between them and the river, still making wagers.
“One,” Cookie shouted, “two, three.”
He brought his bandana sweeping down. Both horses leapt forward and stretched out into a flat-out gallop.
Chapter 9
Aurora’s heart beat hard enough to take her breath away, her hair blew wild, stinging her cheeks, her hat bounced on its strings against her back. Shy Boy moved beneath her, strong, sure, and fast, confidently stretching out farther and farther, reaching for the river shining in front of them as if he’d never had a shy day in his life.
But Cole’s Border Crossing was pounding alongside them, nose to flank, she could hear his hooves separately, somehow, in the thunder both horses were laying down. Half a dozen yards from the water, the bay roan passed them in a blur of color and motion, a bloodcurdling cry of victory coming from Cole’s throat. Passed them easily, with her Shy Boy giving everything he had in his big heart.
Seconds later, Border Crossing plunged into the river, and Cole brought him wheeling around, throwing glimmering drops of water high into the air and onto his own laughing face.
“Sorry,” he called, “we just couldn’t help ourselves.”
The next instant, as Shy Boy hit the water, Cole was bounding out of his stirrup to lift her from the saddle.
“It’s too cold,” she yelled, laughing, too, through her disappointment. “Bet’s off. I admit you beat me.”
She tried to push him away, tried to cling to her saddle horn, but her strength was nothing against his. Even with her struggling and bucking in his arms, he was striding toward a deeper spot in the river without missing a step, while the crew—her own, loyal, Slash A hands!—were all shouting encouragement to him. Along with teasing remarks to her. She’d never hear the end of this, never!
Before she could draw a deep breath, Cole dropped her into the water. The water! Oh, the water was so much colder than she’d expected that it slammed all the air out of her lungs in one fell swoop. Still, she managed to throw her arms around his neck and cling with all her might. She fought, unsuccessfully, to put her legs around his waist. If only she could pull him down with her!
Slim chance. He bent lower and dunked her, screaming, hair, hat, and all, with a swift, strong motion that wet her to the bone and left him dry above the knees, just as he’d planned. Except for his arms, of course, which plastered themselves against her when she came up into the stiff breeze again.
‘Turn me loose!” she cried, gasping between every word.
Instead, he dunked her again, just as thoroughly, and she came up fighting, screaming as she could get breath back from the shock of the freezing water. A great burst of laughter rolled toward them, along with indistinguishable shouts. Abruptly, she quit struggling. Nothing would be funnier right now to everyone than the trail boss flailing her fists uselessly against Cole’s chest with him laughing at her.
She glared at him through narrowed eyes.
“You didn’t have to do it twice!”
He grinned his devil’s grin.
“When you chose the wager, you didn’t say how many dunkings.”
“You are a sneakin’ coyote!”
He gathered her closer against him.
“No, no, you’ve got my name wrong. My Chickasaw name is Rides-Like-Running-Lightning.”
For half a second she stared into his so-sincere brown eyes and almost believed him.
“It is not,” she said. “Now carry me to the bank.”
He didn’t move.
“Why do you say that’s not my name?”
“Because an Indian never tells his real medicine name. Only the person who gave it to him knows what it is. I’ve heard that my whole life.”
He laughed.
“Thanks for that bit of lore,” he said. “Is it true of all tribes?”
“Yes.”
He laughed again.
“What you need to learn from this is not ever to challenge a man named Rides-Like-Running-Lightning and a horse named Border Crossing to a horse race.”
“Never challenge a man who won’t go by the rules is more like it,” she said hotly.
“Your exact words were, ‘Loser gets dunked in the river,’ “ he said, “not ‘Loser gets dunked in the river one time only.’ ”
“You are so mean,” she said. “You just couldn’t resist doing it again because you made me scream.”
He gave her that same, heavy-lidded look he’d used on the street in Pueblo City.
“I always like to make the ladies scream,” he drawled in his low, reckless voice.
A thrill ran through her in spite of her anger, a thrill that had nothing to do with the cold water and the breeze. She shivered.
Thank goodness she had the presence of mind to pretend, however.
“Take me to the bank right now so I can change my clothes.”
“I’ll keep you warm,” he said, holding her closer.
“I’ll walk.”
She was feeling his hard, solid heat right through her chill. Mad as she was, she was liking being in his arms. Liking it a lot. Too much. Far too much.
Kicking, she struggled to get down.
“I’ll walk, I said.”
He turned and started toward the bank, toward the men who were hooting and calling to them.
“Learned your lesson?” he said.
“Oh, sure,” she said sarcastically, “but Rides-Like-Running-Lightning is not your Chickasaw name. And it ought to be Sneaky Coyote because that’s what you are.”
The Renegades: Cole Page 13
