The door flew open, and she stormed across the room with too much pride and too much spunk for the average cowboy. Ryan pulled the brim of his hat over his brows and tried to study her from under it. Since he portrayed the confident cowboy and all, he pulled another straw from his hat and nibbled on it too. Yeah, he was good. Two pieces—one in each corner. He liked her, and no doubt about it, she found him irresistible now.
“I know ‘em well enough. They’re my brothers.”
“Brothers, you say?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, ma’am. I have to tell ya the way it is, because you see, I don’t believe you. I know the Earps better than most. I played cards with Doc Holiday and rode out to Tombstone right behind the pack of them. Close enough to smell trouble or a pretty little thing like yourself. I gotta tell ya, I don’t recall mention of a sister or spotting one when we passed some back and forth on that empty land out yonder.”
Her skin blushed accordingly. “Well, maybe you didn’t look hard enough.”
“No, ma’am, I reckon I didn’t.” He moved closer to the fire with his palms down. His teeth finally stopped chattering. He removed his wet gloves and placed them carefully next to the hearth. His gaze never left her. He planned to watch the sweet little gal squirm until she gave up her game.
“If I missed you in one of those covered wagons, I probably missed a good thing.” He brought his hands to his lips and blew on them for a second. “And since I don’t believe in making bad habits, I never skip out on a chance to gawk at a good lookin’ woman.”
Narrowed eyes were only part of the appeal then. The little lady popped a hip and rested her elbow on the mantle above the fireplace. “I suppose you’ve had one or two.”
“One or two.” He grunted and then turned back to the fire. “You said you’d spotted me in town. I imagine if you did, you saw a couple of women draping their pretty little frillies all around me.”
She deserved to sit and stew on the news if she wanted to act interested in him as more than a passing visitor. If she decided to like him, she needed to get used to the idea that he was a woman’s cowboy, rough around the edges and well trained for the ride.
Ryan cleared his throat and took a different approach. He went along with her little tale. “By the way, I heard another one of your brothers was headed out to Tombstone. What’s his name? Morgan?” Morgan had been in Tombstone for quite some time.
“Morgan is already here,” she lit up with a grin. “You must be talking about another brother. Now, changing the subject to your stomach, if you’ll just let me have a moment here, I’ll fix you something to eat.” She propped the gun up against the old chopping block.
“A woman who knows how to cook.” He made the observation and he might have been impressed if he didn’t prefer one who looked like Miss Beth, not Earp, bent over a chair somewhere. Yeah, a woman built like her belonged in a man’s bed and earned the right to spend a lot of time there.
A twisted expression washed across her face. She stared inside the icebox and looked at him blankly. He kind of figured he was in trouble. The woman didn’t cook.
It might explain why she was puny-skinny. His stomach growled and served as a reminder. He was hungry. He swallowed hard and looked at Beth.
Damn, more like starving.
He was the man around there, at least for the time being, and by golly, a woman shouldn’t require a man to heat up a meal.
After a few huffs and puffs, he approached her with an offer, only since she so obviously needed something good to eat. He could’ve stirred up Old Blue just to feed the likes of her, and he happened to like his four-legged friend. He cursed himself for thinking it in the first place. Trouble was, he liked the two-legged little gal in front of him a lot better. What a traitor. He tried to imagine how Blue might feel in this kind of situation.
“Ma’am. I’m a good cook. The best in these parts if you took a notion to ask around, but I don’t imagine you will, so you’ll have to take my word for it. I reckon I can throw something together if you can’t.”
It wasn’t the right thing to say. She moved anyway. After the beautiful young woman in front of him stepped out of his way, he soon discovered she didn’t have much cookin’ that he could even so much as start. He felt sorry for her and wondered instantly how she survived.
“Girl, are you out here starvin’?”
Her eyes glazed over and he almost swore out loud when he thought he saw a tear fall too. Her full, pouty lips quivered, and she removed, somewhat nervously, her arm from the old mantle where she’d only just casually placed it. “I…I am out here alone. I only told you about the Earps because I know they’re respected, feared even.”
“They are indeed.” He watched the blazing fire flame brighter behind her.
With her revelation, she stood taller, perhaps proud of her sudden decision to tell him the truth. Maybe she thought she was a better woman by admitting her solo-status. Either way, as her shoulders rounded back in an unusual stance, he could’ve sworn the woman’s chest would inevitably pop a few buttons from her dress.
So help him, he wouldn’t mind the first little bit if they did.
“I didn’t come here to harm you, woman. I planned to ride until I saw Tombstone, bed down at the saloon tonight, and stable Old Blue someplace warm. The old plug has an awful limp, and if we were forced to travel much longer, I imagine I would have walked into Tombstone after another few minutes. I sure ain’t here to bring you harm. I ain’t ever brought ill-will to a woman outside of breaking a few hearts.”
Her eyes met his. “You aren’t going to hurt me?”
“My mama may have raised a cowboy, but she sure as hell didn’t raise her boys to poke around with whores or raise a hand to a lady. That’s a fact.” One with a few flaws but why explain.
Rage dropped and then fired from her gaze suddenly. “Whore?”
“Not that I think you are one.”
“No, I sure as hell ain’t a whore.” Her lips thinned in a tight line, and her hands settled on either side of her waistline.
“Well, you sure as hell talk like one and you look at a man like…”
“I look at a man like what?” Her cheeks swelled with hot air.
“Forget about it.” He started to spoon some beans over to a tin plate and then looked around for some cornmeal. He’d throw together something, but it wouldn’t be much. It was still probably more than she’d had to eat in weeks.
“I don’t want to forget about it. Just cause I’m kind of glad to have some company out here don’t mean I’m looking at you like I want to tie you to the hitchin’ post and make a true cowboy out of ya.”
“Well there’s an idea.” Ryan raised an eyebrow. “So the Earps won’t ride out to stop a shotgun wedding?” He laughed, turned his back and quickly added, “Don’t worry, I’ll ride on out tomorrow. But I’m not going back out in that blizzard one moment sooner than daybreak.”
She grabbed her gun then and pointed it at him. “Wanna bet?”
Chapter Three
A truer cowboy would feel damn near guilty. He forgot all about Old Blue. He stayed so caught up with the woman inside the cabin, his most loyal and trustworthy companion slipped his mind. If it hadn’t been for the spit-fire female, Old Blue would still be tied up to the post collecting snow. He didn’t like it much but he didn’t snort or complain. The poor mount was just plain tired, so he didn’t put up much of a fight about anything.
Ryan tossed some hay into a make-shift stall. The barn looked like it might collapse, but if it fell, he had all the confidence in the world Old Blue would go to a better place. He was in a world of pain. Being lame hurt like hell, or so he’d been told—he didn’t know from experience. If Ryan had the good sense God gave him, he’d put the gelding out of his pain and misery. Yep, shoot him. He just didn’t have the heart.
He was ready to turn and go back inside when she came sneaking up on him. “Don’t you believe in knocking?” He was startled so
he snapped out his question.
“Why would I knock? I live here.”
“In the barn?” He teased. “Well, I reckon it’s where you belong since you don’t have a man to keep you snuggled up in that bed you have inside.” He walked passed her and started for the cabin.
He didn’t know why he suddenly had the urge to act all condescending as hell. When he thought about it a little harder, he imagined he wanted some kind of explanation of why she was alone in the first place. A woman who looked like her didn’t have the right to stay in the middle of nowhere all alone. It was a true waste of a female body.
“I came on out here to tell you the beans are burnin’ on the fire.”
She looked astonished as he sprinted back toward the cabin, and he all but cursed her when he slipped on the icy steps.
“Woman! Can’t you do anything for yourself?” He might have to hang around for awhile and teach her a thing or two.
* * * *
Beth spent far too long petting and pampering the old ugly mule Ryan convinced himself was worthy of being called a horse. Finally, she slowly walked from the barn to the house.
Beth tried to stop herself from skipping. The whole Ryan chance meeting was going better than expected. He seemed to like her well enough, and far better than she ever planned. He even knew how to cook for himself, something she wasn’t sure other cowboys admitted to with a woman around.
She tried to practice shivering as she took one step at a time enjoying the smell of success. She played Ryan Chelson better than a saloon piano and the rewards waiting promised a few delicious treats.
Opening the wooden door, she shook off the cold she never felt and stared at the food. There on the table, was the finest meal she’d seen in over a year. A plate of beans with chunks of some kind of meat, and hoecakes piled high grabbed her attention. She swallowed back the excitement she felt just at the mere sighting. No, she wouldn’t eat, but it provided a sweet glimpse of yesteryear. The sudden growl in her belly reminded her of another time but the gurgle in her throat, the one bringing with it a faint taste of blood, reminded her of something else altogether.
“What’s that stuff in those beans?” She yanked the chair out from under the table and excitedly plopped down. She didn’t really care if it was buffalo or deer meat, but she was still curious. She knew she didn’t have anything like it around, so she imagined he pulled it out of his saddlebag.
She picked up the bread and started to soup up the stew just to play in it, if nothing else.
“Rabbit.” He told her right as she brought it to her nose.
Their eyes met, she dropped her bread, and she turned fast toward the basin next to the chopping block. She didn’t see any evidence of rabbit remains there.
“Where’d you get the rabbit?” she casually asked, before she brought the tin cup to her lips. She noticed Ryan’s lips then too. They were heart-shaped and kissable. His emerald green eyes held too much history—a lot of it, she even knew about—and his chestnut hair was inviting. The natural waves in it provided the perfect texture for a woman to weave her hands through.
His eyes darted around the tiny cabin. He slopped up his first bite. “Yum, that’s the best damn bite of stew I’ve had since I’ve been traveling.”
“The rabbit? Where’d you get the rabbit?” Taking a breath proved hard. Her heart raced and her head pounded.
“Outside.” He took another bite.
“Where?” Her eyes were moist. She felt the tears form. Oh yeah, they were ready to fall. She already realized what rabbit this complete stranger decided to capture, slaughter, and sear. Come to think of it, she didn’t see Jackson when she went out to the barn to visit this man’s blasted mule.
“Eat up.” He pointed at the food in front of her. “It was just a dirty old rabbit. Might have caught it out there on the prairie, but I don’t rightly remember.”
Her jaw shifted, literally moved out of socket and she pressed her lips tightly together. After a few deep breaths in and out of flared nostrils, she dared to ask, “Well, do you rightly remember if the rabbit you destroyed for no apparent good reason, happened to have a black coat and two white ears?”
The cowboy stopped chewing her rabbit and crossed his arms, leaning back when he did. “Like I said, dirty old rabbit—slightly deformed too. In all my travels, I’ve never seen a bunny with a black coat and red spots on its backside sporting snow-white ears. Ugliest thing I ever saw in my—”
“Jackson!” She turned and ran to the one window located at the rear of the house. Sure as shootin’, Jackson’s pretty little fur coat lay drenched in rabbit blood. He’d died at the hands of a…. “Murderer!”
She grabbed her gun and headed back to the table. “You should hang!”
* * * *
At least they agreed on something. Ryan would love to tell her why, too, but feared she might have a noose handy. It wasn’t because of a dang rabbit.
If she wasn’t so damn-right beautiful when she was hell-hot mad, maybe he wouldn’t have been so interested in spending the night making her feel like a woman. Since he first rode in there on Old Blue, he’d thought of nothing else. Now, he had to answer for stupid mistakes. He killed her pet rabbit, probably the only companion she kept around.
No doubt about it, he easily pissed her off and he never really tried. He should’ve stopped and thought about it before he gutted the little rabbit. Yet, the fact was, they were both hungry and a pet bunny never occurred to him.
“Now woman, don’t you go and get all crazy on me now. We were starting to get along just fine.” He stood up and put his hands in front of his waist with his palms down.
“I want to know how he died.”
“Ah, hell.” He cleared his throat. “Why don’t you just sit on down there and eat your supper and—”
“Eat my supper!” She glared at him. “Are you insane or just plain cowboy boot-ass stupid?”
“I’m hungry, to tell you the truth.”
Her nostrils flared and she looked back at the table like there was only one logical thing to do—remove the temptation. And she did.
She tossed both tin plates on the floor, and then like the raging lunatic only a woman demonstrated with skill, she stormed up a ladder and into a loft where she hung her head over a wooden rail to warn him. “Don’t even think about coming up here.” She pulled the gun over the timber and pointed it at him. “I’m in no mood for a man.”
He hated to inform her but given the circumstance, he was in no mood for a woman.
Ryan placed his forefinger and thumb on his chin and rubbed it back and forth. “Tell me something, and don’t take this the wrong way, but are you even old enough to get in the mood for a man?” He felt it necessary to ask because it wasn’t the first time he noticed such stark immaturity. Of course, earlier he noticed how her ivory skin never showed one line of age too and it sparked his line of questioning.
After a few yelps and hollers, out of anger he presumed, she finally made an exaggerated groan and moved away from the overhang up above him.
“Okay, well then, you think on it,” he said.
“I’m perfectly old enough for that but you can get it off your mind!”
If he was a guessing man, she planned to sleep up there for the night. He didn’t have a problem with it; he wanted the bed downstairs since he first spotted it. Trouble was, he wanted the woman in the loft to tuck him in, and now, he hated to admit it, but it sure didn’t look too promising.
Chapter Four
He heard her stirring around before he noticed some kind of chanting he wasn’t quite able to make out.
“Are you up?” She stood in the center of the cabin peering in the room he imagined she occupied most of the time.
“Oh yeah, sure. I guess the closed eyes and snoring led you to believe I’m wide awake.” He was a little disoriented but he lit the lantern beside the bed in time to see her fling open the front door and step out onto porch in bare feet. Enough light showed off her
crazy, wild-looking eyes.
She repeated what he said as she walked. It was considerably eerie but then again he once heard about sleep walkers so her behavior, while odd, did little to alarm him..
He jumped up and stopped her from leaping off the porch and into at least a foot of snow. “Wait there a second. Just where do you think you’re going?”
With the lantern in one hand, he reached out and caught her upper arm. He snapped his wrist and turned her toward him.
“Holy shit.” He loosened his grip as he glared into empty eyes with purple-shaded pupils. He noticed an even paler skin tone than what he noted earlier.
“Leave me be.” She moved away to stand on the corner of the old porch. Her arms extended far above her head, and her white see-through gown flowed in the wind, as her little body swayed to non-existent music.
He watched without understanding as she moved in conjunction with the wind and the snow. Her body seemed to unravel and only glorify such weather. The entire time, her eyes stayed fixated on what looked like a full golden moon rising above the sheets of white flakes pouring from the sky.
After the initial shock wore off, he approached her again. His arms were folded over his chest and he rocked forward and back slightly as he tried to protect his bare skin from the bitterness found in the cold air.
“Look woman, I don’t know what your problem is but you’ll catch a bad cough if you don’t get back—”
A loud indescribable noise further shocked, but didn’t stop him. It sounded like a mountain lion roaring or a wildcat. Yeah, a wildcat. On second thought, maybe even a bear…and a wildcat.
“Like I said, you’re gonna catch cold. Get on back inside.” He bent his legs slightly and as his thighs bunched with him, he tried to pick her up—all one hundred and twenty pounds of her, if he had to guess. She didn’t budge.
Vampire Up: A Cowboy Rides (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 2
