“You’re wasting your time, gentlemen.” McKenna rose to his full height, towering over them all. “Not in the mood.”
“Hear us out,” begged Angus. “The wild bronc competition is fixin’ to start. We’d like you to enter.”
Tempest put her hands on her hips. “He said he’s not interested. It’s too dangerous for someone like McKenna. He could get hurt.” Or worse. She shuddered.
“You gonna let some woman speak for you?” asked Angus.
Doc’s quick hand kept Tempest from stomping Angus into the middle of next Friday. “A fellow from down Laredo way said you won the competition two years ago. Said you’re a hell of a bronc rider. The fellow had never seen anything like it.”
“I’m done with bronc riding. Don’t have anything to prove.”
A red stain crept up Phinneas’s neck. “Don’t be so hasty. You can make some easy money here, Smith.”
“You mean make you some easy money, don’t you? Put the saddle on the right horse. And if it’s so blessed easy, how come one of you don’t ride the damn thing?”
“Well…well…we ain’t suited for it,” blustered Doc.
“If you’ll excuse us, gentlemen, I have to get this lunch put away so I can attend to my rodeo chairman duties. Don’t see why we’d have a reason to give you the time of day anyhow.”
“Best get on your way before I lose my temper and do something I’ll sorely regret.” McKenna’s glacial squint scattered them like a flock of nervous geese.
Tempest folded up the tablecloth, thanking the Good Lord that McKenna wasn’t a foolhardy man or one given to big ideas.
It was just fine and dandy with her if he never looked at a wild mustang. She enjoyed the warmth flooding her.
Chapter 13
Tempest and McKenna parted company at the livery. He went to check on Hard Tack while she stashed the lunch remains in her room at the hotel and continued on to the livestock pens and chutes next to the railhead.
She had to keep an eye on Alaine and try to curb the girl’s enthusiasm. She would keep her daughter safe if it killed her.
In the face of Tempest’s severe displeasure, Alaine had insisted on taking part in the roping. But who knew what other events the girl would try to tackle. She wouldn’t put it past her wild-and-woolly daughter to sign up for the bronc riding or the wild cow milking contest.
Good heavens, that child would be the death of her yet.
Tempest normally loved a rodeo when it was strangers putting themselves in mortal danger. And being head of the committee certainly brought satisfaction. But this time she had other things she’d rather do—like snuggle in McKenna’s bed at the hotel or in her huge, four-poster one out at Jacks Bluff.
Strip down to the bare skin and make slow passionate love until neither had energy left for anything except sleep.
Her Texas Guardian had saved her from total humiliation.
Tempest had wanted to sink into a deep hole and pull it in after her. But then McKenna had stepped up bold as could be and bought her box despite everything.
McKenna had honor and knew how to care for a woman’s feelings.
Only someone who’d experienced the same embarrassment and fear would’ve stood up and dared anyone to cross him.
But that was typical of the man who’d made love to her. She was the last doggie out of the chute. She just prayed the world wouldn’t end tomorrow. Oh God, how she prayed.
She thought about their lives. Both had come up the hard way, except Tempest had known the love of a mother and father. McKenna lived knowing the very person who should’ve loved him most had thrown him away. Like Pony Boy, McKenna had needed someone to fight for him, someone to slay the dragons in the dark of night.
Tucking those thoughts away, Tempest made sure the wild bronc competition got started and settled down to watch the raw power of the animals and the gritty men who tried to tame them.
Her attention was riveted on a wild mustang just loaded into the chute. The animal was rearing and snorting, trying his best to bust free of his wooden prison. She pitied the cowboy who tried to ride the beast. He’d better be tough.
The mustang was a killer.
It’d be just like Alaine to try to ride it.
Tempest gripped the wooden plank that served for seating. But it wasn’t Alaine striding toward the chute.
Her heart lurched painfully.
It couldn’t be. But it was. McKenna was surrounded by a dozen or so men and it seemed he meant to climb onto the back of the crazed animal.
Thick foreboding blocked the air from Tempest’s lungs.
At the creek he’d said he wouldn’t ride. What’d changed?
He’d gotten a pair of leather chaps from somewhere. The sound of them flapping against his long legs was like whips tearing into her flesh.
Hazers held the mustang tight while McKenna threw his leg over the saddle and got a firm grip on the reins.
She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t watch, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t bear to bury another good man.
But when she heard male voices shout, “Waltz with the lady!” her eyes flew open.
A thousand pounds of muscle, rawhide and rage left the chute fast, bucking and twisting its body first to the left and then to the right. It was the kind of horse some would say warped its backbone and hallelujahed all over the place.
For all his seasoning, McKenna had his hands full just to stay seated. An icy chill swept through her as she raced to the thick posts that formed the arena.
She got there just as the bronc intentionally hurled itself backward, the trick of a killer. It wasn’t content merely to unseat McKenna, the mustang meant to kill him.
Despite the gut-twister’s plans, McKenna held on and rode straight for hell. The horse crashed into the fence, the chutes, everything in its path not caring what it went through.
Tempest gasped. The horse had turned into a blind-bucker.
Then with blood in the crazed killer’s eye it turned and came straight for Tempest.
A blood-curdling scream left her throat.
She’d never get out of the way before it busted through the corral fence and trampled her.
But, just as she felt the horse’s breath on her neck, McKenna leaped and with a mighty heave pushed her to safety.
The horse’s hooves caught McKenna, dragging him under. By the time the rodeo clown distracted the animal and outriders roped it, McKenna lay in a silent heap on the ground little more than a bunch of limp, bloody clothes.
“McKenna! Someone get the doctor.” She knelt and lifted him into her lap. “Don’t you die! Don’t you dare die on me.”
Chapter 14
“Doc’s gone out to deliver the Whipple’s baby,” yelled a man’s voice.
“Then get a buckboard.” Tempest’s fingers trembled as she loosened McKenna’s shirt. “I’m taking him to Jacks Bluff.”
She would not, by God, lose another man!
Carefully, a half dozen men lifted the still, pale form into the back of the buckboard and they made the arduous journey to the ranch. Once there, ranch hands carried McKenna into the big house.
Tempest barked orders right and left. Soon the men had rigged a bed in the downstairs study and she began the work of getting him undressed and comfortable.
All the while she kept up a running prayer.
This was her fault. She’d given him too much potion and it’d made him crazy. She should’ve known this would happen.
Tears sprang to her eyes. He’d saved her life. His last thoughts had been for her safety, not his. By all rights it should be her lying there with blood oozing from her head.
Calming herself, she washed out the gash, cleaning away the blood, dirt and wood fragments from the busted corral. Stitching the wound closed the best she could, she bound his head, giving thanks that her fingertips hadn’t detected a depression or break in his skull. That was a blessing.
She quickly moved to his other injuries. A few needed attention
but weren’t serious. And he had some broken ribs.
Tempest placed her hand on the broad chest of the man who’d given her much more than one night to remember. She was thankful he’d been unconscious while she stitched his wounds.
She wouldn’t be the cause of any more pain.
Leaning, she planted a kiss on his dark whisker-shadowed jaw. Sudden reality created ice in her veins. In trying to assure he was safe and healthy she almost killed him.
“Dear Lord, if I can’t have him without the help of potions and sheer stubbornness, I’ll give him up.” Her prayer seemed to ricochet off the walls, bouncing back in her face. “It’ll be his decision or none at all.”
Tempest sat beside his bed through the long night, watching him go in and out of consciousness. The times he’d been awake he’d been disoriented, not uncommon after having a thousand pounds of rawhide stomping a man’s head into a soft melon. She took heart though in his recognition of her. Seemed a good sign, but she kept listening for the doc’s horse anyway. She’d feel better having a medical opinion, even from Doc Mitchell.
Cook was stirring in the kitchen by the time McKenna opened his eyes and slowly looked around the room.
Tempest grasped his hand. “McKenna, you’re at my ranch. Do you have any memory of what happened?”
“Last I recall I was on top of a rip-snortin’ mustang bound for hell.” A shadow crossed his golden amber gaze. He touched his bandaged head. “Then he turned straight for you. Reckon I ended up under the angry beast?”
“You saved my life.” Her voice was ragged from the tears clogging her throat. “I wish…oh damn, I wish…”
“The main thing is you’re all right. Real glad of that.”
“Are you hungry? Cook can make whatever you want.”
“Just some coffee for now. Smells good.”
“I’ll be right back.” She stepped smartly out the door.
McKenna wondered how he came to be in her study. He looked around the room filled with expensive paintings, leather-bound books, a piano and more vases of roses. Too much for a room this small. He sighed. His Lady Tempest. She seemed to think having more and better of everything would fill the emptiness inside and make people accept her.
Only it hadn’t.
When Tempest returned, she carried a tray of food that could’ve fed an army and all its horses.
“I just wanted a cup of coffee,” he growled.
“You might change your mind.” She handed him his coffee. “Besides, some of this is for me. Now that you’re better I’m hungry.” She broke off a piece of toast, plopping it into her mouth. “Doc Mitchell should be by shortly to check on you and see if my stitching measures up to the old goat’s standards.”
“You stitched me up?”
“Did the best I could. Doc was out delivering a baby at the Whipple’s when the accident happened.”
“You’re something, Miz Tempest LeDoux.”
Tempest shrugged her shoulders. “Sewing up nasty wounds comes with the territory on a ranch. I do what it calls for.”
“Yep.” He changed the subject. “Must’ve taken you years to amass all these trappings of wealth. Makes me wonder why a little girl who came from the swamps would need this to prove who she is.”
Her chin jutted. “Are you criticizing me?”
“Just trying to understand. You’re a fascinating woman.”
She relaxed. “Seems people look up to others when they most envy them.”
“Tempest, you have more heart and soul than most of the people in this town combined.” His voice grew soft. “Things like saving Pony Boy, caring about the less fortunate and taking such excellent care of your daughter make me admire you, not what you own.” He wanted to add grave-tender to the list, but he didn’t.
“Those things come as natural as breathing.”
“Natural is good.” He waved his arm. “The rest of this is fake. You’re too worried about appearances.”
She jumped to her feet and snatched up the tray of food. “I’ll wait in the parlor for the doc if you don’t mind.”
The whip of her skirts spoke a language he had no trouble deciphering. He’d gone and said the wrong thing. He tried to call her back, but he was met with the loud ticking of a clock.
McKenna rubbed his eyes. He’d give her a little time to unbunch her tail feathers. Then he’d try to make her see she wasn’t fake, just the things she surrounded herself with.
He’d barely finished his coffee when Doc Mitchell arrived. Tempest showed the man to the study door, then vanished.
Reckon he’d raised her hackles good and plenty.
“Well, Tempest sewed you up fine,” the doc said after examining him. “A mighty lucky man. Word in town said you were fit for the boneyard after that mustang got finished. Take it easy for a day or two. Headaches will likely come and go. Best if you stay here at the ranch.”
McKenna didn’t know if that was best or not considering how mad he’d made Tempest. Somehow he’d have to try to unkink the mess he’d made. He wouldn’t leave with her angry.
But hours passed and she didn’t step foot into the room. He finally dozed.
He awoke to find Tempest tiptoeing through the door. The sheets rustled when he moved. “There you are. I thought you’d ridden back to town for your rodeo duties or something.”
“Angus is taking care of the rodeo affairs. Did you want something? Are you hungry?” Her manner was distant.
“I could use a bite to eat and some more coffee.”
Without a reply, she raised her pert little nose and left, presumably for the kitchen. He wasn’t sure if she’d bring the food to him or throw it at him. A short while passed before he heard approaching footsteps. He sat up, propping himself against the brass headboard that must’ve taken every hand on the ranch to move it from God knows where.
Tempest quietly entered and placed a tray across his lap. The smell of the juicy steak made him realize how empty he was. He was disappointed when Tempest didn’t keep him company.
How could a man say he was sorry if she wouldn’t let him?
When she came for the tray, he threw back the bedding and grabbed his britches determined to set things right.
She scowled. “What on earth are you doing? Doc said—”
“He didn’t say to laze around in bed, letting a woman coddle me. I’m getting up and don’t try to stop me.” If she could be stubborn, so could he. “I need air. Lots of it.”
She clamped her pretty mouth shut and carried the tray to the kitchen.
He almost reconsidered when his head started spinning. Determined, he buttoned his pants, pulled on his boots and strapped on his gunbelt. Reaching for his hat, he marched from the room to find Tempest. He had some things to say.
McKenna found her on the wide front porch. Sweating from exertion, he dropped into the chair beside her. She kept her gaze focused on the distant horizon.
“Tempest, are you going to let me apologize?”
“Whatever for, Mr. Smith? I’m sure you know far more about me than I do myself.”
He took her hand and smoothed the back. “I never said you were fake. That’s not what I meant at all. I wish you could see what a special lady you are and how any man would be thrilled to have you as a wife and friend.”
“You don’t owe me anything; it’s the other way around.”
“All the same, I wasn’t criticizing you.” He cupped her face and turned her toward him. “But that’s not the whole of it is it? What’s really going on?”
Eyes the color of rich melted chocolate stared into his. He hadn’t expected to see her lip quiver. She bit it to still the tremble and swallowed hard. “McKenna, I’m to blame for you being on that crazed mustang.”
“How do you figure that?”
She closed her lids for moment. When she opened them, he saw a flash of tears. “I put some potion in your cider at the box lunch affair when you weren’t looking.”
“Potion? What in the world are you b
abbling about?”
“After we first met, I made a secret potion out of herbs and roots from a Cajun recipe handed down from my grandmother. It was supposed to keep you healthy and ensure your safety.” She chewed her lip again and a sob broke free. “I gave you too much. I poured the entire vial into the cider.”
“That’s why I was dizzy the night of the poker game?”
She nodded.
“And why I felt the same way in the saloon that day?”
She nodded. “I’m not proud of it. As you said I try too hard. And I almost killed you. You should’ve let the beast trample me, no more than I deserve. But I’m done. I have no plans to marry you. I’m letting you go.”
He thought a proper reply would swim to the surface, but it seemed to be bogged down in quicksand. He rose to stand at the railing and stared out across the green pasture, trying to sort through the contents of his scrambled brain. He owed her the truth and she’d know if she got shortchanged in the tally.
After what seemed forever, he finally remembered the reason why he’d gotten on that bronc.
“Tempest, you’re not at fault for me riding that animal.”
“I’m not?”
“Nope. I got on it to keep Pony Boy from riding. He was bound and determined. I saw the boy in the livery and he told me he was going to win the prize so he wouldn’t be beholden to anyone. I knew he didn’t have what it took for a bronc like that so I rode it in his place. Any money I got from the bets belongs to him. So you see, it wasn’t anything you did.”
“Oh, McKenna.” She came to stand beside him at the porch railing and put an arm around his waist. “I didn’t know.”
“Hope I made the boy a mess-load of money. He can use it.”
“I was so afraid I caused the accident.”
He took off his Stetson and placed it on her head. She tilted back to look up at him. A grin formed. “Nope, you didn’t. You still letting me go as you put it?”
“Yes. I’m through trying to hold you, bend you to my terms. Some things are born wild and untamable.”
“That’s a pure shame and quite admirable, Miz LeDoux, since I refuse to let you go after I waited so long to find you.”
Give Me A Texas Outlaw Bundle with Give Me A Cowboy Page 58
