The Indians had liked to reminisce, too. They had discussed old battles and old friends. Sometimes they had told stories of how the earth was created. As a young boy, he had been fascinated by the Indians belief that bears had once been men, but because they were too lazy to endure the rigors of human life, they had chosen to be transformed into animals. The scariest tale his father had told him had been of Uktena, who was the incarnation of evil and had the attributes of the snake, the deer, and the bird. Uktena was a great snake, his father had told him, as big around as a tree trunk, with horns on its head, and a bright blazing crest on its forehead. It had scales that glittered like sparks of fire. It was believed that just seeing Uktena could bring misfortune; smelling its breath meant certain death.
Gradually, the talk around the campfire died down as the men sought their blankets and a good night’s sleep.
Rafe remained awake long after the fire was out and the other men were snoring. Every time he closed his eyes, he pictured Caitlyn huddled under a tree somewhere down the trail, hungry, cold, and alone. He thought of Uktena, and wondered if a similar monster lurked in the tales her father had told her.
Time and again, he told himself she was none of his concern. He’d had his fill of women and he had no intention of getting involved with the boss’s headstrong daughter. Nevertheless, it wasn’t long before he found himself walking quietly through the dark night, a blanket draped over his shoulder, a couple of cold sourdough biscuits wrapped in a kerchief he had slipped from the neck of a soundly sleeping Brenden Carmichael.
He’d gone about a mile and a half when he heard the soft whinny of a horse. Pausing in mid-stride, his eyes searched the darkness until he saw the silhouette of a horse outlined against the night sky.
Caitlyn shivered as a gust of wind swept over her. Though she had donned her extra shirt and jacket and wrapped the saddle blanket around her shoulders, she was still cold—and frightened. More frightened than she had ever been; more frightened than she dared admit. She had slept outdoors before, of course, but always with her father nearby. The friendly darkness of those times did not seem so friendly now, when she was alone. Cold and hungry and alone.
She jumped a little as the lonely wail of a wolf cut across the stillness, felt her heart go cold in her breast as a tall, dark shape materialized out of the blackness of the night. Her mouth went dry as the creature came closer, closer. Her eyes were wide with fright and she opened her mouth to scream, only to find that her throat was too tight to make a sound.
She was certain she was about to meet some dreadful fate when she recognized Rafe Gallegher. Relief washed through her like water through a sieve and a deep sigh escaped her lips. But anger came hard on the heels of relief. “What are you doing prowling around out here in the dead of night?” she hissed. “You scared the daylights out of me.”
“I’m glad to see you, too,” Rafe muttered, tossing the blanket in her lap, then handing her the biscuits.
Caitlyn tucked the blanket around her, then quickly gobbled down one of the biscuits. No matter that it was cold and a little stale, she was famished.
She flushed with shame when she remembered her less than polite welcome. Rafe had brought her warmth and nourishment and she had behaved like a shrew.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you like that,” she said contritely.
“Forget it.” He hunkered down on his heels beside her, noting the way the moonlight caressed her cheek, the way the saddle blanket fell over her shoulders not quite concealing the swell of her breasts.
“You must be cold,” Caitlyn remarked.
Rafe shrugged, as if it were of no consequence. In truth, just looking at her made him warm all over.
“Would you like to share the blanket?” Caitlyn asked, not meeting his gaze. “After all, you brought it.”
Rafe hesitated. He was wearing a sheepskin jacket he had borrowed from Luther before they left the ranch so he wasn’t really cold, but the thought of sharing Caitlyn’s blanket was tempting, even though every nerve and fiber of his being warned him that she was trouble of the worst kind.
“Thanks,” he said gruffly, and dropped down beside her. He knew immediately that it had been a mistake. The curve of her breast brushed against his arm as she made room for him under the blanket. His nostrils flared as he inhaled the sweet womanly scent of her, and his left thigh, barely touching her right thigh, tingled at her nearness. His eyes moved over her face and delighted in what they saw. He clenched his hands into tight fists to keep from reaching out to explore the delicate curve of her ear and the slender column of her throat.
Caitlyn stared straight ahead, all too aware of the man sitting beside her. The night surrounded them, hiding them in a cocoon of darkness. She did not have to look at Rafe to know the shape of his jaw, the color of his eyes. In the past few weeks she had memorized the lines and planes of his face, the color and texture of his skin. She was fascinated by his ruggedly handsome features, even as she was repelled by his Indian blood.
Once the bruises and swelling had disappeared, she saw that he was far more handsome than she had ever imagined. His eyes were dark, so dark she could not decide if they were black or dark dark brown. His brows were the color of ink and quite straight, his lashes short and thick. His nose was slightly crooked and she surmised that it had once been broken. His jaw was strong and square, his mouth full and wide. His skin was a dark reddish brown, clearly proclaiming his Indian ancestry. She wished that the fact that he was a half-breed didn’t bother her so much, but it did.
Rafe slanted a look in Caitlyn’s direction. She was staring straight ahead, her back straight, her body rigid, and he wondered if she was afraid of him.
“Do you want me to go?” he asked abruptly, prepared to leave her if she said yes.
“No, please,” Caitlyn said quickly. She turned her head and found herself gazing into Rafe’s eyes, those dark dark eyes that held secrets she yearned to know. “You were right,” she admitted ruefully. “I should have come better prepared.”
“Do you want me to take you home?”
“No.” If she left now, she’d be admitting defeat and giving up her chance to see what might be the last wild herd in this part of the territory.
“I’ll spend the night here if it will make you feel better,” Rafe offered.
Caitlyn stared at him, shocked by his bold suggestion. No decent woman would spend a night alone with a man, especially when that man was not a relative, or even a close friend, but a stranger. And a half-breed as well. But then, it was a little late to worry about her reputation. He was already there and they were quite alone.
“Stay,” Caitlyn murmured. “Please.”
Rafe shifted his weight to a more comfortable position. “Why don’t you get some sleep?” he suggested.
Caitlyn nodded, and resting her head against the tree trunk, she closed her eyes.
“That doesn’t look very comfortable,” Rafe remarked. Pulling the saddle blanket from her shoulders, he spread it on the ground next to him. “Lie down,” he said. “You’ll sleep easier.”
Caitlyn did as he suggested, and Rafe tucked the other blanket around her.
“What about you?” Caitlyn asked.
“I’m fine.”
“But…”
“Go to sleep,” he urged. “It’ll be morning soon.”
Caitlyn nodded, obediently closing her eyes. She heard a rustle in the underbrush as some night creature went about its business, heard the far-off call of a coyote, but the sounds of the night no longer filled her with trepidation. Rafe was here and he would protect her.
In minutes, she was asleep, a faint smile touching her lips as a dark-skinned stranger with fathomless black eyes rode into her dreams and into her heart.
Rafe rested his head against the tree, all too conscious of the girl sleeping peacefully beside him. He was grateful for the breeze that fanned his heated flesh. Perhaps it would also cool his desire.
He watched the shadows play over her
face, saw her lips curve into a faint smile. What was she dreaming about that made her smile with such pleasure?
As the night grew colder, she snuggled against him and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world when she rested her head in his lap. Of its own volition, his hand moved to her hair, his fingers threading through the heavy blonde strands, while his other hand rested protectively on her shoulder.
Caitlyn slept peacefully, totally unaware of the riot of emotions her presence aroused in the man beside her.
Chapter Six
Caitlyn opened her eyes slowly, coaxed into wakefulness by a bright shaft of sunlight that had found its way through the leafy canopy above. Sitting up, she spread her arms wide and stretched, her muscles feeling stiff after spending the night on the hard ground.
A quick glance around revealed that she was alone and she felt a momentary sense of loss at Rafe’s absence. His presence had been comforting when she woke during the night.
Rising, she saddled her horse. She was hungry and would have welcomed some of Web’s sourdough biscuits and hot black coffee, but there was no point in fretting about that now. Big Sully Meadow and the wild horses were only a few miles away.
Swinging into the saddle, she put her horse into a trot, eagerly looking forward to the day ahead.
“Here they come,” Wylie called softly, and Brenden, Nate Jackson, Hal Tyler, and Josh Turner, turned to look in the direction Wylie indicated. Sure enough, moving across the meadow toward the lake came a large herd of mustangs, led by a big, rawboned chestnut mare.
Brenden smiled. All was going according to plan. Scott and four of the other cowhands, Wishful Potter, Rusty Jordan, Riata Jones, and Marty Davis, were positioned behind the incoming herd, downwind, ready to cut them off should they turn back the way they had come.
Rafe shaded his eyes as he watched the horses approach the lake. Most of the animals were mustangs, but scattered through the herd were a number of mares and foals that carried Arabian blood, as well as a couple of long-legged animals that bore the unmistakable stamp of a thoroughbred. Rafe knew these animals were strays—horses that had wandered away from wagon trains headed westward—that others had been stolen by Indians and then had been lost or their riders killed in battle.
One animal in particular caught his eye. It was a sleek gray mare with dainty fox-like ears and the dished face peculiar to Arabians. She had a deep chest, good withers, a beautifully arched neck, and a magnificent head. He would have her for his own, he decided, no matter what the cost.
The last mustang to reach the lake was the stallion. He came prancing across the meadow, head high, tail swishing arrogantly, nostrils flared as he sniffed the wind.
“Now!” Brenden called, and the men broke from cover, shouting and swinging their lariats over their heads as they closed in on the herd.
The mustangs lined out in a dead run, heading away from the pursuing cowhands and down the winding, tree-lined trail that led back to the ranch.
Brenden grinned as he brought up the rear, pleased by the size of the herd, and the ease with which they had found it. The money he made from the sale of the mustangs would just about pay off the bank loan.
Rafe was riding at the front of the herd when they rounded a narrow bend in the trail. He felt his heart slam against his chest as he saw Caitlyn a short distance ahead. She was hunkered down beside her horse, apparently trying to dislodge a stone from the mare’s hoof.
Rafe glanced over his shoulder, his insides going cold as he imagined Caitlyn being crushed by the oncoming herd.
Caitlyn’s head jerked up as she heard the thunder of hoofbeats, felt the earth vibrate beneath her. She glanced over her shoulder to see Rafe bearing down on her, the wild herd close on his heels.
She reached for her mare’s reins, but the animal reared up, its eyes showing white as the mustangs galloped toward them.
With an oath, Rafe slammed his heels into his mount’s flanks and the game little cow pony shot forward. Leaning from the saddle, Rafe swept Caitlyn off the ground and rode hell for leather down the narrow path.
Bile rose in Caitlyn’s throat as she looked over Rafe’s shoulder and saw her horse stumble and go down beneath the stampeding herd. But for Gallegher’s swift intervention, she, too, would have been crushed under hundreds of pounding hooves. Shuddering at the thought, she buried her face in Rafe’s neck, clinging to him for all she was worth. Dust filled her nostrils and the sound of drumming hoofbeats and the snorts and whinnies of the mustangs echoed in her ears, louder than the hammering of her own heart. She felt the heat of Rafe’s arm around her waist, heard him mutter a vile oath as he urged his horse onward.
She gasped as she felt the horse stumble. Rafe gave a sharp tug on the reins, pulling the horse’s head up, and the cow pony bunched its muscles and stretched out, belly to the ground.
Rafe held Caitlyn tight against him. He could feel her trembling in his arms and he asked his weary horse for another burst of speed, wanting to put some distance between himself and the herd.
They had gone about two miles when the trail widened and he saw a break in the trees. He reined his horse to the left, waving his hat in the face of the mustang that tried to follow him. In minutes, the herd had passed by.
Caitlyn was sobbing with relief when Rafe drew his horse to a halt beneath a towering oak. She felt his arm drop from her waist, but she didn’t pull away. It felt good to be near him, to rest her head against his chest. After a moment, she felt his hand move in her hair.
As her sobs subsided, Caitlyn became aware of the rough texture of his buckskin shirt beneath her cheek, of the smell of dust and sweat that clung to him, the hard-muscled arm that had found its way back to her waist. But, most of all, she was aware of the way his thighs cradled her buttocks, the heat or him against her hips.
Embarrassed by the intimacy of their position, she drew away, reluctant to meet his eyes. After a few moments, she risked a glance at his face, felt her indignation rise when she saw he was smiling impudently, obviously aware of, and enjoying, her discomfort.
“I think you can put me down now,” she snapped.
“Whatever you want,” he replied obligingly, and grasping her forearm in his large brown hand, he lowered her to the ground.
It was then that Brenden rode up. “What the hell’s going on here?” he demanded angrily. “Caitlyn, I thought I told you to stay home.”
“I know, Pa, but…”
“Your foolishness cost us a damn fine horse, young lady,” Brenden went on, his voice rising to match the color in his cheeks. “Perhaps you’d like to ride back and have a look at what’s left?”
“No, Pa.”
“You be quiet, miss!” Brenden yelled. His hard green gaze swung to Rafe. “What the hell happened?”
“Why ask me?”
“Because I’ve got a better chance of getting the truth from you than from that daughter of mine. Now, what the hell happened?”
“I saw Miss Carmichael coming on the trail as I rounded that last bend. Her horse panicked and I figured you’d rather have your daughter than the horse, so I grabbed Miss Carmichael and left the horse behind.”
Brenden’s lips twitched as he bit back a grin. “I guess you made the right decision.”
“Pa!”
“I’ll deal with you when I get home, miss,” Brenden said curtly. “Gallegher, I’d appreciate it if you’d see my daughter safely home. Don’t let her out of your sight. I reckon you’ll make better time going home than we will, so tell Luther we’re behind you and for Paulie to have the corral gates wide open. And tell Consuelo to have plenty of hot coffee ready.”
Rafe nodded once to show he understood, and Brenden rode off down the trail after bestowing one last furious glance at his daughter.
There was going to be hell to pay when her father got home, Caitlyn mused bleakly, and she had no one to blame but herself.
“You ready to go?” Rafe asked.
Caitlyn nodded, and Rafe reached down
and lifted her into the saddle in front of him. “We can take a shortcut through the trees,” she said, pointing to a narrow deer trail off to their right.
Rafe grunted softly as he reined his horse toward the trail. It was much too narrow to allow for the passage of more than one horse at a time, but it was a pretty little path, lined on both sides with oaks and pines whose leafy branches formed a canopy overhead.
They rode without speaking, Caitlyn feeling horribly humiliated because her father had scolded her as if she were a naughty child and in front of Rafe Gallegher, of all people.
Some of her anger evaporated as she thought of Rafe. She was, she knew, spending far too much time and energy thinking of him, but she couldn’t seem to stop. There was something about him that appealed to her, though she could neither understand nor define it. But one thing was clear. Whatever the attraction was, strong as it was, it had to stop. He was a half-breed, a man she knew nothing about other than his name. And in a little over a year, he would be gone.
They reached the ranch late in the afternoon. Paulie’s face was stern when Caitlyn told him what had happened to her horse. She felt a twinge of guilt as she left the barn, knowing that Paulie was going to catch hell, too.
“Is your pa far behind?” Paulie called, following after her.
“They’ll be in late,” Rafe said, answering for Caitlyn. “Be sure to tell Luther and have the corral gates open.”
Paulie nodded. He was not looking forward to Carmichael’s return, or the tongue-lashing that was sure to come. He’d already been chewed out good by Luther, who had upbraided him more than once for not going after Caitlyn and bringing her back home.
“I guess you’ll catch hell,” Rafe mused, staring after Caitlyn.
Paulie shrugged. What was done, was done.
Caitlyn hurried toward the house. All she wanted now was a hot bath and a few hours’ sleep in her own bed.
Consuelo scolded Caitlyn as they dragged the big iron tub into the kitchen, reprimanding the girl in English and Spanish for disobeying her father, for continually wearing pants when nice girls wore dresses, for riding astride, for not behaving like a lady.
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