His heart wrenched. Roan eased his hand down her arm and caught her gloved fingers. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. All right?”
She tucked her lower lip between her teeth, squeezing his hand in return. “I’m just tired of being scared, Roan.”
“I know, Darlin’. But if you decide to come in, do it for yourself. Okay?”
Roan was right, she realized. “Yes,” she muttered, releasing his hand even though she didn’t want to. Just the intimacy Roan had automatically established with her calmed her, helped her gain perspective. “They’re big, is all.”
Roan patted her knee and nodded. “Yes, they are. But we’re taller than they are when we’re on horseback. Look at it that way,” he said, and he ambled over to Diamond who was eagerly eating the lush grass.
Brows rising, Shiloh considered his words. He was right. She enjoyed watching him mount Diamond, his male grace. Wanting him. All of him. Why was life so damned complicated?
As Roan rode through and turned Diamond to catch the gate to close it, he saw Charley trotting in, a stubborn look on Shiloh’s face. He grinned and said nothing. Keeping one ear keyed to the herd of twenty cows and their calves nearby, Roan got the gate closed and turned his horse toward where Charley was standing.
“Ready?”
Shiloh nodded, her gaze pinned on the big, lumpy brown herd of buffalo that stood looking at them. Their short, curved horns gleamed in the sunlight, wet with dew as the buffalo ate the grass. “Yes.”
Roan reached out, briefly touching her chin. He saw Shiloh’s eyes change, grow warm, and he saw desire flare in them. For him. He could feel it. Taste it. Every night he came back to the house after wrangling all day, he was tested again to keep his hands off Shiloh. To give her the room, the space she needed. Diamond was eager to mix it up with the herd, trotting sideways as Roan aimed him at the end of the wary bunch.
Before Shiloh could cluck to Charley, the spunky pinto drifted into a long trot, remaining on the outside of Diamond. She was amazed the horse knew what to do and tried her gawky best to ride at the trot.
Roan had pulled his lariat off a leather strap from around the horn and held it in his leather glove, the long, stiff loops slapping against his lower leg and boot. The way he rode, his familiarity with his horse’s movements, the way he held those thick coils of rope, impacted her powerfully. Shiloh found herself wishing she had some of Roan’s natural confidence. Charley picked up his trot and broke into a nice, easy lope, right at Diamond’s rump, keeping pace with the tall, muscular quarter horse.
It was much easier riding at a lope, something Shiloh loved, that cradle-like motion. It reminded her of sitting in a rocking chair. She watched as the matriarch of the herd, an old cow who didn’t have a calf at her side, whirled around, snorting jets of vapor out of her flaring nostrils as she stood her ground.
Roan slowed Diamond to a trot, his gaze on the matriarch. If he could convince her to move, the rest of the cows would follow. But he knew this old gal. They called her Maddy, as in “mad cow” because she was a testy ole buffalo with a history of pushing her thousand-plus pounds around with wranglers. He called over his shoulder, “Pull Charley back and get about a hundred feet away from me. Maddy can be a handful at times.”
“Maddy?” Shiloh called, pulling Charley to a walk.
“Yeah,” Roan said, “Maddy is bossy. And depending upon her mood on any given day, she’s not afraid to take any of us on. But you never know which day that might be.”
Great.
Shiloh quickly clucked to Charley and headed off toward the fence line, following Roan’s instructions. She pulled her paint to a stop, resting her hands on the horn, watching Roan approach the snorting cow. She was digging her front, cloven hooves into the ground, clumps of mud and grass flying up into the air beneath her belly. Her head was down and she was shaking it. Fear for Roan rose in her, but he seemed relaxed and unconcerned as he pulled Diamond down into a walk. The rest of the herd was jumpy and quickly scampered behind Maddy, who was still standing her ground, her small wary eyes blazing.
Her heart moved up in beat as Roan slowed and made a wide circle to get behind Maddy.
The cow snorted and whirled around in a split second, facing Roan once more.
Gasping, Shiloh didn’t realize how FAST a buffalo could move! It was amazing! Diamond’s ears were flicking forward and back, his eyes riveted on the cow who continued to shake her head and paw her hoof into the mud and grass. Shiloh saw two other wranglers approaching at a fast gallop to get there to help Roan.
The herd suddenly broke behind Maddy, racing between the cowboys.
Maddy bellowed and launched herself at Roan and Diamond.
A scream lodged in Shiloh’s throat, her hand flying to it, her mouth dropping open. Diamond deftly stepped aside, almost like a bullfighter making a ballet move at the charging buffalo. Only this cow was angry and she was aiming to plow into the dancing black horse. Roan leaned over as the horse whirled around and avoided the hooking horns of the buffalo, the rope slapping down on her wet, sensitive nose.
Maddy bawled and jerked to a halt, her nose stinging with pain. She turned, her thin tail twisting angrily, trying to avoid another warning slap of that lariat, digging her hind feet into the muddy pasture. She moved swiftly, barreling through the group of scattering cows and calves, aiming straight for the open gate at the far end of the pasture.
Shiloh watched as Roan pulled his horse to a stop, the animal breathing hard, its flanks bellowing in and out. He ran his hand down the gelding’s sweaty neck, talking soothingly to him. The horse calmed instantly, settling down, nostrils flared wide. Shiloh clucked to Charley and he took off at a sedate trot.
As Shiloh pulled up, she saw the other two wranglers flanking the herd from behind, making sure they all funneled through the gate into the new pasture. She smiled a little at Roan as he placed the lariat back into the leather strap, allowing it to hang on the right side of the saddle.
“That was really something. Did you know Maddy was going to charge you?”
Roan lifted his hat and used his forearm to wipe his brow. “Yes, she always charges somebody. We’ve learned to give her a target and that her nose is the most sensitive spot on her body. Hate having to hit her, but she doesn’t take no for an answer,” Roan said, and settled the hat on his head. “Maddy’s a good matriarch and there’s been times when the Snake River wolf pack has come sniffing around, and she’s chased them off.” He smiled a little. “She’s a good leader. Just doesn’t like wranglers, is all.”
Shiloh watched as the two cowboys dismounted and shut the gate to the other pasture. She returned her attention to Roan. He seemed unaffected by the whole event. “Aren’t you shook up over Maddy charging you?”
Roan lifted his leg, hooking his knee around the horn of the saddle. He loosened Diamond’s reins so the horse could relax. “No. Why?” he asked, squinting toward her, the sun directly in his eyes.
“My heart was pounding.”
He shrugged. “Maybe knowing Maddy’s routine helped.”
She smiled a little. “Or is it your black ops background? Are you guys trained not to get excited or distracted during a firefight? Or something dangerous going on around you?”
Roan smiled a little. “Could be,” he drawled, “but honestly I don’t get rattled by much, either way.”
“Your family genes?”
“Most likely. My mom’s a cool cucumber. My father is laid-back and easygoing. Not much riles him, either.”
“Well, I was impressed.” She patted her heart. “I was scared for you. Okay?”
Roan met her eyes and nodded. “It’s nice to be worried over.”
Heat flowed out of Shiloh’s heart, making her chest feel as if it were expanding. She saw kindness in Roan’s look as he held her gaze. “I guess you’re right,” she muttered ruefully, “I am a bona fide worrywart.”
Roan stretched slowly, arms over his head and then he lowered them. He unhooked hi
s knee from around the horn and settled his boot into the stirrup. “I like you just the way you are, Shiloh. Come on, we’ll meet up with the other two wranglers. We need to double-check and ride the entire fence line on that new pasture. A wrangler took a check ride around the fence line last week, but we can’t afford these buffalo escaping and wandering around. That would cause all kinds of hell.” He looked at his watch. “You’ll be in the saddle a good three hours. Are you up for it?”
“I am, but I’ll betcha my butt is gonna be sore when it’s all over with.”
“I like your sense of humor. Ready for a little canter?”
Was she ever. “You bet!”
* * *
Anton Leath sat on a wooden bench in the main square of Wind River on a warm late-June morning. It was ten A.M. And all the small shops around it were opening up, the restaurants busy with tourists who were driving through this town on Highway 89 with a population of fifteen hundred. He was dressed like a tourist, in a pair of jeans, hiking boots, and a casual dark blue T-shirt. Actually, he relished blending in because he liked camouflage. As a hunter in upstate New York, during deer season, he put on his camo gear and blended into the woodlands to kill a nice four- or five-point buck. Now, he sat on one of the many wooden benches placed around the square, a newspaper draped over his crossed legs, looking like a tourist simply enjoying the morning, with no particular place to go.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and turned it on. Stupid Shiloh Gallagher had a fan page on the social media site. And every day she posted a photo and a paragraph about Wyoming. He should thank his lucky stars the girl was an idiot. She’d escaped him undetected by suddenly leaving her New York apartment. But then to think that he wouldn’t trail her through social media sites? His full mouth pulled into a grin.
As he thumbed through the newspaper he was looking for ads for a gun shop. And also, any local news on the Wind River Ranch where she was staying. He felt a thrill move through him. Instead of hunting a buck, he was going to start hunting Shiloh. He should have taken his African skinning knife he killed her mother with and turned it on her and slit her throat as well. Shrugging, Anton couldn’t change the past. But he was sure as hell going to change Shiloh’s life once and for all. The bitch had put him in prison with her testimony. A sweet sensation of revenge drifted through Anton as his eyes narrowed on an ad from a local gun shop.
As a convicted felon, Anton couldn’t own a firearm. So he’d found a druggie digging through a Dumpster at one end of the town by the name of Jerry Carpenter. For a small amount of money, the druggie, who had no criminal record yet, had agreed to buy whatever firearms he needed.
There was a small gun shop in town and Anton drove him over there. Carpenter worked as a server at a local restaurant and bunked in with four other druggies in a nearby small apartment. He made money to go drift off into marijuana la-la land. Fine by Anton. As long as the twenty-one-year-old scrawny kid could legally acquire the weapons he wanted, he didn’t care what he did with his life. There would be a waiting period, of course, after Carpenter bought the weapons he’d put down on a list, but Anton wasn’t in any hurry.
Next, he decided to go back to his hotel room and dye his blond hair dark brown. He was growing a beard and he’d dye it, too. He spotted a small article in the local paper about the new wildlife drive on the Wind River Ranch. Visitors to the area could drive onto the ranch and pay to go see the animals. Smiling a little, Anton decided it would be a wise move. He was fairly sure Shiloh would not recognize him. He’d wear dark glasses and a hat, and play tourist. Anton had no idea where Shiloh was at on the ranch. But he’d try to find out as he drove that loop road where different animals were kept in different pastures.
* * *
Time was going too fast as far as Shiloh was concerned. Another week had passed and she found herself happy. Every day, she woke up to Roan in the house. They shared breakfast and dinner together. He always packed a lunch and threw it in his saddlebags on his horse because he was out working somewhere on the ranch at lunchtime. She’d found her writing ability had come back. After breakfast Shiloh would clean up the kitchen and then go write in her bedroom on that beautiful hundred-year-old rolltop desk. Getting up every twenty minutes or so, she’d walk across the road to the office and see if Maud or Steve needed her help.
Sometimes, Maud would ask her to do a little office paperwork and Shiloh was glad to fill in. She would divide her time between the office and the employee house where her book chapters were coming together, much to her relief.
She was sitting out front, giving John Harper, the office manager, a break from office duties when Maud wandered in. Her silver and black hair was tucked beneath her red baseball cap. She smiled at Shiloh and wandered over as she pulled off her dirt-stained gloves.
“You holding down the fort?”
Grinning, Shiloh nodded. “Yes. John needed to run an errand. I told him I’d sit and answer the phone for him.”
Maud nodded and leaned against the wooden counter. “You know you’ve been here a month already?”
Glumly, Shiloh nodded. “I was just realizing that this morning after Roan left for the day.”
“You seem happy here.”
“I am.” Shiloh looked around. “I really love Wyoming, Maud. I love the wildness of it. The beauty.”
Wrinkling her nose, Maud said, “Winters are long and hard. We get three months of summer and that’s about it, if we’re lucky. You’re here at the best time.”
“But I love snow,” Shiloh protested. She saw Maud’s eyes twinkle.
“Maybe you should think of something more permanent here, then? You seem to be writing up a storm. You’re happy. What else is there?”
“I know,” Shiloh admitted softly. “I can’t keep leaning on you for a place to stay. I was thinking of maybe renting an apartment in town and staying until September.” Shiloh opened her hands. “I can write anywhere.”
“Do you miss New York City?”
Shrugging, Shiloh said, “With that stalker back there, no. Out here, I’m free and it feels so wonderful, Maud. I’ve finally relaxed. I just don’t want to go back home. At least, not yet . . .”
“Anything else tugging at you to stay around here?” she asked, raising her brows, giving her a pointed look.
Shiloh felt heat rushing up from her neck and into her face. Maud knew. “Well . . . uh . . . Roan is a very nice man.”
Snorting, Maud pulled off her cap and threw it on the counter, running her fingers through her short strands. “I’ve never seen that man as happy as he is now. And I’ve known him for two years. Roan actually smiles every once in a while.”
Rubbing her heated cheek, Shiloh avoided Maud’s gaze. “I do like him but . . .”
“But what? You aren’t in a relationship currently, Shiloh. What’s there not to like about that cowboy?”
Sighing, she stared up at Maud. “He plays for keeps. He’s not like a lot of guys I’ve been with before. Roan wouldn’t walk away.”
“So? What’s the matter with THAT? There’s a lot of women who would die to have a man who is true blue and loyal to his woman.”
“I . . . just . . . well, I guess I’m commitment-phobic, Maud. I get scared about getting serious about a man.”
“But you like Roan? Right?”
“Very much.”
Maud shook her head. “I swear, Shiloh. What on EARTH is stopping you from having a good, solid relationship?”
Wincing internally, Shiloh said softly, “I don’t know, Maud . . . I get scared. It’s silly, really, but it’s real and it’s there, haunting me.”
Maud studied her for a moment. “Maybe this reaction is based on losing your father at such a young age? I know your mama was terribly in love with him. And he got ripped away from her and you saw it. You were so young and children, God love ’em, are so impressionable at that age. It may have wounded you, Shiloh, sent you a message that if you really do love a man, he’ll be ripped away from you,
too.”
Feeling bad, Shiloh whispered, “Yes, I think losing my dad suddenly like that really impacted me. I don’t think I’m over it to this day. I loved him so much. And I saw my mother die emotionally after Dad had the heart attack. It was horrible. She cried all the time. I couldn’t comfort her. I couldn’t fix it and she was hurting so badly. . . .”
Reaching over the counter, Maud patted Shiloh’s shoulder. “Nothing can fix a broken heart except love. Love always repairs those fractures we get in our heart.”
“I guess I’m afraid to let love in.” Shiloh gave the rancher a sad look. “And Roan . . . he’s so patient with me. He respects me. He treats me as his equal. I know it’s me. And the past. It’s always the past. . . .”
“Well,” Maud drawled, giving her an amused look, “I can think of a thousand women who would stand in line to find a man like Roan. And here, we’re dragging you kicking and screaming toward him.” She said soothingly, “Sometimes, you just have to jump into the water and have faith you’re gonna swim and not sink.”
Chapter Fourteen
Anton Leath felt smug as he trundled up the red brick walkway to the Wind River Ranch. With fifteen other tourists, he’d patiently stood in line outside the office at nine A.M., paying his money and getting his ticket to drive the wildlife loop road on the property. He stood on the sidewalk dressed in his tourist gear, looking like everyone else. His only concession was he wore a tan floppy hat and his sunglasses.
The morning was chilly and he stuck his hands into his dark green nylon jacket pockets. The nonstop talking around him always irritated him. Why couldn’t people just be quiet? This was wide-open country and pristine. People had to ruin it by constant chattering. He wanted to hear the sounds of nature instead.
He’d seen a large house across the road from the office. It was connected by the same red sidewalk that led in a forked direction to the loop road. As his gaze ranged slowly, Anton wanted to absorb and remember what he saw. On their side of the road, there was a smaller unnamed office beyond the main ranch office.
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