Taming Blackhawk

by Barbara Mccauley

  There was no future for them, he was certain of that. But that didn’t stop him from wanting her.

  He tore his gaze from her, then reined his own horse in and studied the canyon while he waited for Grace to catch up with him. The canyon narrowed behind them, so the horses had to be ahead. The map he’d studied had shown the canyon to be only five miles long, with fairly steep cliffs on either side. The trail they’d just come down was the only way in and only way out. With enough time and a couple of extra hands, it wouldn’t be that difficult to box the herd in and capture them. But they didn’t have time or extra hands. Though he didn’t see any clouds, he’d already felt a subtle change in the air, and he suspected the weather would not stay as nice as it was at the moment for very long.

  “We’re downwind,” he told Grace when she reined in beside him. “That will be to our advantage if we find them.”

  “When we find them,” Grace said with conviction. “I know they’re here. I can feel it.”

  Rand nodded. “They at least were here. I’ve seen some signs of grazing and some dried horse manure.”

  “So what are we waiting for?” she said impatiently. “Let’s go find them.”

  “Grace.” He put a hand out to steady her horse, wondered why he was having a difficult time saying what needed to be said. “You need to understand. Between lack of food and water and predators, they might be dead.”

  Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she shook her head. “I refuse to believe that.”

  “You have to prepare yourself,” he said. “You have to be ready to accept whatever you find. And you have to accept what I’ll need to do if they’re sick or not strong enough to make the trip back out.”

  Grace glanced at the rifle he carried in a saddle holster. She sucked in a sharp breath and nodded. “I know.”

  They rode in silence for the next few minutes, with Grace close behind. Rand knew she was thinking about what he’d said. She was worried about what he might have to do if the animals were too far gone to help. That part of his work had always been the most difficult, and he didn’t want to dwell on the possibility right now. But the canyon appeared dry, and unless the horses had found water somewhere, they would most certainly be a lost cause.

  The world is full of lost causes, Mary had said to him in the barn the night before he’d left. Those are the ones who need help the most.

  His mother had known that he needed to take this trip not just for the horses, but for himself. He wasn’t so dense as to not see the correlation between his own life and a lost band of horses, but he was a grown man. He had control of his life, he understood where he came from and accepted it. He’d never felt sorry for himself and he sure as hell didn’t want anyone else to, either.

  And what about Seth and Lizzie? What had their lives been like? Where did they live? Were they married, with a dozen kids between them? Did he have nieces and nephews? The thought made his chest ache, made him wonder things he’d hadn’t truly allowed himself to wonder since he’d received that letter. And from that wonder came something else he’d never allowed himself before. Something he’d shut off the night that woman had taken him away.

  Hope.

  Grace had told him that his sister and brother could never forget him, not completely. Could she be right? Even if they thought he’d been killed, as he’d thought they had, did they still have memories? Would they welcome him into their lives? Or would they blame him? He was the oldest, he should have taken care of them, protected them.

  The sudden splatter of raindrops on his hands brought Rand to a halt. Dammit! He’d been so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed how quickly the dark clouds were rolling in. He jerked his gaze to the sky and swore again, then turned to look at Grace.

  “We’re going to have to turn back.”

  The misery on her face said it all, but true to her promise to him, she didn’t argue. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and she nodded weakly.

  He turned his mount, then froze at the sound of a high-pitched whinny. Grace’s horse whinnied in response and stamped its front hooves. Eyes wide, Grace snapped her gaze to his.

  “Rand,” she said his name on a breathless whisper.

  “I’ll be a son of a gun,” he muttered out loud. They’d found them! They’d actually found them!

  The rain started to come down harder, and the large drops bounced off the dry canyon floor and began to puddle in the dusty dirt.

  Grace looked at him, her expression anxious. She’d do whatever he said, Rand knew, even if it meant turning around now. He heard another distant whinny, and gauged the sound to be just around an outcropping of rocks no more than an hundred yards away.

  And then he knew that there really was no decision. That probably there never really had been. Come hell or high water—and he hoped like hell there’d be no high water—he knew he couldn’t turn back now.

  “We won’t have much time,” he said roughly, keeping his voice low. “We’re going to need the element of surprise. If the lead horse catches wind of us, he’ll take off for the deep end of the canyon and we won’t stand a chance.”

  “What should I do?” she asked.

  “Stay here and be ready.” He reached for the rope looped around the back of his saddle. “If I can get close enough to a mare and get hold of her, our only chance is that the stallion will follow, and the rest of the horses will follow him. It’s a long shot, but it’s all we’ve got.”

  He leaned over and reached for Grace, surprising her and himself both when he kissed her hard and quick. “For luck,” he said, then took off at a gallop.

  Stunned, Grace watched him ride off, her heart racing as he disappeared around the rocks. She pressed her fingertips to her mouth, her lips still tingling from his kiss. She barely noticed the rain coming down steadily now.

  He’d gone after them, she thought, and the excitement and the thrill of it shimmered over her now wet skin. After all he’d said, he’d still gone after them. He wasn’t as hard-hearted or as practical or logical as he wanted everyone to believe. She’d seen the look in his eyes when they’d turned to start back. He’d been just as upset as she had been, just as devastated.

  She still wasn’t completely clear what his plan was, but he’d told her to be ready, whatever that meant, so she kept her gaze on the spot where he’d vanished, listening, waiting.

  But for what?

  The rain fell harder still, and the distant sound of thunder had her horse prancing nervously under her. Grace kept a firm hold on the reins and her knees tight against her horse. The minutes ticked by, though it felt like hours. Rain poured off the brim of her hat, and she watched nervously as the water in the canyon began to rise and flow in the direction Rand had ridden.

  Rand, she said a silent prayer that he was all right. Hurry, please, hurry.

  The thought of anything happening to him terrified her. She told herself not to worry, that he was experienced and he knew what he was doing. But anything could go wrong, one wrong move and he could be lying with a broken leg or unconscious. The image made the knots in her stomach tighten.

  He was all right, she told herself. He had to be.

  She loved him.

  God help her, but she knew that without a doubt now. She cursed herself for not telling him how she felt. He didn’t have to love her back. She just wanted him to know, needed him to know.

  She gripped the reins so tightly in her hand that the leather cut into her palm. “Where are you, dammit?” she said out loud.

  As if he’d heard her, Rand came barreling around the rocks, splashing through the slowly rising river of water. A small bay mare, eyes wide with fear and confusion, galloped beside him. A rope around her neck kept her tied to Rand’s saddle.

  And chasing behind them, his proud neck held high and his mane waving, came the stallion. The animal was larger than most wild stallions, his coat pitch-black. He looked thin, but not emaciated. If it were possible to read an expression in the animal’s eyes, Grace woul
d have said that he was furious at the mare’s capture and he intended to get her back. Behind the stallion came three more mares…and two foals!

  Rand said nothing, just waved at Grace, signaled for her to get behind the small herd and follow. She swung her horse around and dropped in back of the animals. So intent was the herd on keeping up with the stallion, they didn’t seem to notice her.

  The group moved as one, the natural instinct of horses to stay with the herd keeping them all close together. The sky had opened up by the time Rand reached the spot where they’d come down. The ground was turning to mud, and Grace knew they’d have to get up the trail quickly, or they all would be in danger of slipping over the edges where it narrowed.

  Rand went up first, dragging the mare he’d roped behind him. The horse balked when she first hit the trail, then followed. The stallion whinnied loudly and reared, then he followed, too, as did the other mares. It took every ounce of strength Grace had to keep her horse heading upward after the other horses. Her leg muscles screamed in protest, but she knew she had to hold tight in the saddle or she’d fall off for certain. Ahead of her, she watched Rand labor not only with his own horse, but the mare he pulled behind him. All of the horses pawed and struggled to get a footing in the mud and to keep together.

  It was slow and dangerous, but they climbed upward, inch by inch, foot by foot, horse and humans together. The smell of wet leather and horse assailed Grace’s senses; rain slapped at her face and poured off her hat. Eyes wide with determination, his nostrils flared, the stallion kept up with Rand’s horse and the mare that had been stolen from him.

  One of the foals slipped at the narrowest passage and its hind leg went out from under him. Grace bit her lip to keep from screaming as she watched the terrified animal slide over the edge, then catch its footing at the last minute and scramble back up with its mother.

  Thunder rumbled, and the storm pounded at them. Grace made the mistake of glancing back down into the canyon, and the sight of the rising, rushing water nearly paralyzed her. Ten minutes more down there and they all would have been swept away. Clenching her jaw, she turned her attention back to the trail and what lay ahead, not behind her.

  The rain blinded her, but her hat kept the worst of it off her face. She lost track of time, concentrating solely on staying in the saddle and keeping her horse on the disappearing trail. Rocks and mud slid down the trail and more than once the horse she rode stumbled, then gained her footing again.

  When at last they hit the top, Grace slumped in her saddle, so exhausted she wasn’t certain she could ride another foot. She let her horse take over now and carry her back to their camp. The herd followed the captured mare and Grace could do little more than watch as Rand quickly slid off his horse and roped the stallion, then tied him to a tree.

  She knew better than to call to Rand or try to catch his attention. The wild horses weren’t used to humans and their presence would frighten them. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks, holding tightly to her saddle horn for fear she might fall off her mount. She barely noticed the rain anymore, she was already as wet as she could get, so it hardly mattered.

  Her eyes flew open at Rand’s touch on her leg. He reached up for her, and she slid off her horse into his arms.

  “You did it, you did it,” she said over and over and threw her arms around his shoulders.

  Smiling, he lifted her up off the ground and hugged her tightly. “We did it,” he said.

  “Oh, Rand.” Grace began to laugh. “I love you.”

  He stilled at her words, and she knew instantly that she’d made a mistake. But she didn’t care. She did love him, and he was just going to have to deal with it. Or not. Whichever, the decision was his.

  But she was too happy right now to let her slip of the tongue ruin this wonderful moment. She hugged him tightly, and the exhaustion she’d felt only a moment ago vanished. She felt like Gene Kelly at the moment—she could dance and sing in the rain and splash in the puddles and not give two hoots that she was soaked to the bone.

  Rand carried her to the truck, then opened the door and set her inside. “I’ve got to get our saddles off our horses,” he said, and closed the door behind her.

  Grace felt useless, and she would have gone to help him, but she knew that he could do it faster than she could, anyway, and she would only be in the way. She felt an ache in her chest at the thought, knowing that was probably how he viewed her intrusion into his life, as someone who would only be in his way.

  So here she was, head over heels for the first time in her life, and after today she would probably never see him again. Her throat thickened and her eyes burned, but she blinked back her tears. She was celebrating today, dammit! She would deal with the hurt and the pain later. Right now she was determined to enjoy the success of rounding up the strays.

  Rand jumped into the truck a minute later, whipped his hat off and tossed it onto the back seat of the dual cab. Grace sat huddled against the door, her hair dripping, her clothes drenched.

  “Are they all right?” she asked, and realized her teeth were chattering.

  He nodded, then looked at her in dismay. “God, you’re soaking wet.”

  She had no idea why she found that funny. Perhaps it was his astute observation of the obvious, or the fact that he was just as wet as she was, but she started laughing. He looked at her as if she’d gone crazy. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and spread, and then he was laughing, too.

  It was the first time she’d really heard him laugh, and the sound made her forget everything—that they could have died or been seriously hurt, that she’d told him she loved him. Even that she was wet and cold and her legs ached.

  Still laughing, he reached for her, pulled her into his arms and hugged her. “Ah, Grace,” he said, shaking his head. “What in the world am I going to do with you?”

  She felt the heat rise from his skin, the hard play of muscle under her body as he held her close. A smile touched her lips as she lifted her face to his.

  “Anything you want, Rand Blackhawk Sloan,” she murmured. “Everything you want.”

  Eight

  Grace’s words sucked the air from Rand’s lungs and sent heat flooding through his body. In that instant he wanted her with an intensity that shocked him. It didn’t matter that they were both soaking wet, or that they’d both come close to dying down in that canyon. If anything, those things heightened his awareness of her and the need clawing at his insides.

  He crushed his mouth to hers, tasted the rain and the passion on her. She parted her lips for him; he dived inside. Eagerly, she met the insistent rhythm of his tongue with demands of her own. Never before had the hunger been so keen or so sharp. It staggered his senses, blinded him from everything and everyone else but the woman in his arms.

  He had to have her. Had to make her his, even if it were only for this moment.

  With his mouth still on hers, he scooted to the center of the truck and pulled her on top of him. She pulled back from him, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her T-shirt and bra were plastered to her skin, and he could clearly see the outline of her breasts and hard nipples through the wet fabric. His heart hammered in his chest.

  On an oath, he clamped his mouth to her breast through the fabric while he kneaded the soft flesh with his hands. She raked her hands through his wet hair and dragged him closer to her.

  “Take this off,” he demanded and tugged her T-shirt upward. She peeled the wet garment off, and once again he brought his mouth to her breast, sucking the nipple through the thin cotton of her bra. Gasping, she let her head fall forward.

  He found the front clasp of her bra and unsnapped it. Her skin was cool and damp, and he could smell and taste the storm still on her. He took her breasts in his hands and his mouth, wanting desperately to kiss and touch her everywhere at once. She writhed over him, moving her body against him until he thought he might go mad with the need pulsing white-hot through his veins.

  He
unsnapped the button of her jeans and pulled the zipper down. She brought her mouth to his and kissed him while he slid his hands between denim and skin and eased the wet jeans down her hips. They struggled together to free her feet of boots and her legs from her pants, but then she was naked on top of him, reaching for him. He lifted his hips as she tugged his jeans free, but they made it no farther than his knees before she straddled him and he slid inside her.

  They both groaned.

  And then she began to move, and he groaned again.

  He gripped her bottom in his hands and guided her as she moved up and down, each time driving him deeper inside her. Her nails bit into his shoulders, holding tightly as she drove them both closer to their destination.

  Rain pounded the roof and thunder rumbled close by. But the real storm, the true storm, was here, inside this truck, in their need for each other.

  “Rand,” she gasped his name and her nails went deeper into his shoulders.

  The climax hit them both with all the energy and intensity of a lightning bolt. She threw her head back and cried out. He groaned, a rough, hoarse sound that came from deep in his chest.

  She sank forward, dragging in deep breaths while the tremors still rippled through her. His heart pounding furiously, his breathing ragged, he held her close and waited for the storm to ease.

  Grace listened to the pattering of the rain on the roof of the truck. The sound soothed her, and with Rand’s arms around her, their bodies still joined, she’d never known such contentment before.

  “You all right?” He pressed a kiss to her temple and slid his hand up her back.

  “Mmmm,” was the best she could manage. She felt his smile against her cheek.

  “I take it that means yes.”

  “Oh, yeah. And you?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  Now it was her turn to smile. She snuggled against him, enjoyed the gentle slide of his hand up and down her back. “We really need to get your clothes off.”

  He chuckled. “Damn, woman, give me a few minutes, will you?”