Oklahoma kiss

by Unknown

  "I said, in just a few minutes."

  Adam's heart all but stopped beating when he leaned over the railing and saw Lucifer running in an agitated frenzy along the tree line. By his behavior it was apparent that he had seen Blair.

  The beast was a fearsome sight. He was gray in color, and his horns spanned at least six feet from tip to tip, then curved slightly upwards. His forelegs were short and muscular, while his hind legs were much longer and leaner, which allowed him to run faster. Heavy folds of hide lay on the underside of his neck, while on his back was a muscular hump.

  "Goddamn it, Blair, get out of there!"

  Blair's gaze had followed Adam's to the tree line. She had seen the bull about the same time Adam did. Her blood ran cold. Having been around livestock most of her life, she knew regardless of what she did, the bull would probably charge.

  The field was so muddy, it sucked at her feet. She'd never be able to run fast enough to avoid him, or to make it to the fence before he reached her. If she froze, he would still eventually charge. Either way, she was in serious trouble if help did not arrive soon.

  She helplessly looked at Adam, her face ashen. Although his feet were healing nicely, he could hardly walk without the aid of the cane. Besides, he was unarmed and several hundred yards from her. There was nothing he could do.

  Knowing she could not just stand there and do nothing, Blair took a few hesitant steps toward the fence then stopped abruptly when the bull began pawing at the ground —a sure sign he was about to charge.

  Oh, my God! He’s digging my grave! she thought to herself.

  "Mr. Cahill, you can start washing up for ..."

  Hearing Tillie, Adam spun about. "Go ring the dinner bell!" he shouted. "Ring the hell out of it!"

  "Why, Mr. Cahill . . ."

  "Goddamn it, woman, ring it ... or whatever you do to summon help. Blair's in trouble!"

  Tillie's eyes widened when she saw the bull running toward Blair.

  Adam saw it, too. Without thinking, he whipped his shirt off, leaped over the porch railing and started running toward the fence, yelling at the top of his lungs and waving the shirt over his head.

  Lucifer stopped and blew through his nose; he looked at the man then at the woman, as though he was trying to decide which one to attack first. He lowered his wide horns and charged at Blair, who was now running toward Adam and the safety of the fence, her face stricken with sheer terror.

  He vaulted the fence with a fluid ease and ran toward them, still flailing the shirt in the air, desperately hoping it would distract the bull.

  Lucifer caught Blair with a glancing blow which sent her sprawling to the ground, then he turned his attention toward Adam.

  She was not seriously injured, yet she knew to remain perfectly still since the bull was so close by. If she moved, he'd come charging at her again with those deadly horns.

  Adam was vaguely aware of a ringing bell and a distant clamor of excited voices, but he knew help might arrive too late. As long as he and Blair kept their wits about them, there might be a chance.

  When the bull advanced slowly toward Adam, he took a few steps backwards. Then, when the bull backed off, Adam took a few steps toward him. It was a deadly game of cat and mouse, and he was getting further and further away from the safety of the fence. Adam knew Lucifer could charge in earnest at any moment. He also knew if he only could work him away from Blair, she might be able to escape.

  Lucifer bellowed with rage, shook his head, then lowered it. Adam shouted, "Run Blair!" Then he turned and ran in the opposite direction, deliberately drawing the enraged bull toward him.

  Suddenly a blur of flying red fur came leaping past him, growling viciously. It was Red. He jumped over the bull's back, circled around and charged in a frontal attack. His powerful jaws locked on the bull's throat, then it was a flurry of red fur, enraged bellows, deep growls, and the sounds of the muddy earth being churned beneath the bull's hooves. But neither Adam nor Blair stood and watched. They ran as though the devil himself was after them.

  Adam knew Red was no match for the bull. As soon as he reached the fence, and Blair was out of harm's way, he hurriedly called for Red to retreat.

  Whether Red was so enraged at the attack on his master, or if it was the excitement of the blood and a possible kill, or if he simply did not hear him, Adam would never know, but Red refused to obey his command.

  Lucifer was slinging his head with such strength,

  Red was no match for him. It only took a few moments for the bull to shake him loose and send him flying through the air and landing with a heavy thud to the ground. Although slightly stunned, Red tried to run, but the bull was in such a furious rage, he savagely attacked: goring, pawing, kicking, trampling. Red let out one painful yelp, then was silent.

  Blair, sobbing bitterly, buried her head against Adam's strong shoulder to avoid seeing the bloody carnage. Warren and three of his hands had come in a run, but by the time they arrived it was too late; the dog was already dead. They were also powerless to stop the bull from mauling the dog; it would have been committing suicide to enter the pasture before Lucifer calmed down.

  Adam guided Blair toward the house, one arm wrapped firmly around her and he gently held her face against his chest with his other hand in case she attempted to turn back and look. "Hush now, don't cry. It's all right."

  Warren was so shaken, his face was pale, and his hands trembled. He hurried along beside them, but once he saw Blair was not hurt and that she was in extremely capable hands, he stood back and let them go on alone.

  Adam judged by her movements she was uninjured, perhaps a little bruised—nothing serious — but still he had to ask, "Blair ... are you hurt?"

  She shook her head. "No ... I don't think so. Oh, Adam, I was so frightened," she sobbed bitterly. "I was . . . and then you . . . then poor Red!" She raised her eyes so pitifully. "Oh, Adam, I'm so sorry about Red!"

  "I know you are. I am too," he murmured, regret breaking his voice.

  "But . . . it's all my fault. If I hadn't . . . decided to pick those ..." Blair stared down at her hand, her eyes widened and a painful cry escaped her lips when she saw she still held the now crumpled and crushed flowers in her hand. She violently flung them to the ground as if they were suddenly too repulsive to hold.

  Adam grasped her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. "Now listen to me, for I intend to only say this once. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. You had no way of knowing that bull was out there. And I’m sure Warren felt there was no danger in putting him in that pasture. Red is dead and no one regrets it any more than I do. But he saved our lives ... he saved yours and he saved mine . . . and for that we owe him. . ."

  "B-but you were so fond of him," she cried.

  "Yes, I am . . . was," he corrected the tense in which he spoke. "But an animal's life can in no way compare to a human life. Do you honestly think I would rather see you lying out there like that?"

  Unconsciously, she started to look but Adam stopped her.

  "Well, do you?" he sternly demanded. It wasn't anger that made his voice sound so harsh, it stemmed from the terror of what almost happened.

  "N-no."

  "Then the matter is closed."

  Trying to keep her chin from trembling so badly, she nodded. "All right . . . but Adam, you're not going to leave him out there, are you?"

  The muscle in his jaw clenched, deep furrows creased his brow. "No. As soon as Lucifer calms down and the men can get some ropes on him, we'll bury him."

  Reaching the porch, they met Tillie on the front steps. Adam surrendered Blair to the woman. "Tillie, see that she has a hot bath, give her a sleeping powder and send her to bed."

  "Yes, sir, Mr. Cahill, that's exactly what Ah'll do. Come along with Tillie, child, Ah'll take care of you now," she crooned.

  Adam sank wearily on the top step, and bracing his arms against his l
egs, he lowered his head. He’d been so fond of Red; he would miss him.

  It was then that Adam noticed the bandages had slipped up about his ankles, but more than that, he experienced no pain in his feet. In all likelihood, that meant he could move on in a day or two. Strangely, that realization brought on another wave of regret.

  Adam did not want to leave, yet he knew he must. It was getting too easy to forget his priorities. That was the effect Blair had on him. He had his sworn duty to perform and a promise to keep. But after he brought Talley and his gang in, he might consider making some changes in his life. He shook his decisively. Hell, to be honest, the changes had already been made, he just hadn't realized it until now.

  Chapter 12

  Idleness made the next two days pass slowly for Blair. Tillie had the household so well under control, it took a few hours work each day to keep the house spotless. And she staunchly refused help in the kitchen. That was her domain.

  She supposed she could have gone to see Samuel or Collin, but they were busy with the round-up and she did not know their wives. Then, too, she hated to leave the ranch as long as Adam was there, although there was only so much time she could inconspicuously spend with him.

  She couldn't even go riding —not and keep peace in the family; besides, after what Coy had told her about all of the meanness taking place in and around Doughtery, she was a little reluctant to go riding alone.

  It was mid-afternoon; Blair sat at her dresser with a fashion magazine propped against the mirror. Keeping a critical eye on the illustrations, she brushed her long black tresses smoothly up and away from her brow and head into a large circular roll, and pulled them back into a bun at the crown. To reduce the severity of the coiffure, she pulled a few tendrils from the roll and allowed them to curl about her forehead and temples.

  "That's much better—more elegant than merely brushing it and tying it back with a ribbon," she said, looking closely at her reflection. "Now, a high, straight-necked, lace-trimmed blouse, with perhaps a cameo locket would make the new style look perfect." Suddenly annoyed, she slammed her hairbrush on the dresser. "This is ridiculous! I've never been one to preen and primp except for special occasions so why should I start now? One day Adam treats me like I am the most special person in all the world, and the next day he behaves as though I don't even exist! Oooh! It makes me so furious!"

  Hearing a knock at her door, Blair straightened and whirled about, clutching at the back of the chair. The knock was not Tillie's, she never rapped that hard. Maybe it was Adam! She was suddenly I grateful she had taken the time to experiment with her hair.

  Standing, she quickly smoothed her skirt, patted her hair into place, hurried to the door and opened it.

  Warren stood there with a large, brown paper package tucked under his arm. "Blair, may I come in? I would like to talk to you," he said the words tentatively, not knowing what to expect.

  Blair was surprised, her mouth parting slightly in response. She took a hesitant step backwards and wordlessly gestured for him to enter. This was so unlike Warren. To her knowledge he had never made the first move to reconcile a difference, if indeed that was what he planned to do, though why else would he be here?

  He glanced about the room and not seeing a chair he thought would support his large frame, settled himself on the foot of her bed and placed the package beside him. "I guess you are wondering why I am here . . . wanting to talk to you, that is."

  She chose her words and tone carefully, not wanting to sound victorious or gloating, yet not wanting to sound overly anxious either. "Yes, that thought crossed my mind . . . nevertheless, I am pleased."

  Wordlessly, he spread his fingers wide and stared at them, then held the package out to her. "I have a favor to ask of you . . . but first, I bought you a present when I went to town yesterday."

  Eyeing the package suspiciously, she raised her chin with an air of defiance. "Is it a peace offering or a bribe?"

  "I’d rather you think of it as a gift. Go ahead, open the package; there isn't anything in there that will bite you."

  Still leery, she broke the string and smoothed the paper back. Her eyes widened wondrously and she gasped, for the package contained two black riding skirts, two white blouses with wide, flowing sleeves, and tucked in between the garments was a pair of women's black riding boots.

  "Warren! They are lovely!" she exclaimed, holding a skirt and blouse in front of her. "But why. . . how . . ." She looked at him skeptically. "I thought you didn't want me riding alone? I thought you said it was too dangerous?"

  "You won't be riding alone if you agree . . ." He grimaced and slightly shook his head. I'm getting ahead of myself. Hear me out first." A grin tugged at his lips. "You don't know how long I rehearsed this little speech, and if I start telling it out of sequence, I might forget half of what I intended to say."

  He cleared his throat, raised his eyes to Blair and pulled himself up straighter. "I know you prefer to wear pants when you ride, but . . ."He looked as nervous as a boy who had just been called on at school. "Well, hell, I’m not ordering you to wear these, instead, I am asking you to." He eagerly added, "I also bought you a new hat, but the merchant didn't have a hatbox and I was afraid it could get crushed in the package, so it's in my office . . ." his voice trailed off.

  Blair resisted the sudden urge to feel of his face to see if he was feverish. Was she hearing correctly? Did Warren actually ask her to do something instead of ordering her?

  She studied him more closely. There had to be a reason behind his sudden change of heart. Then she remembered. Her eyes narrowed cautiously. "You mentioned a favor, exactly what is it you want me to do?"

  "I'd appreciate it if you showed Adam the land around the ranch."

  Her heart leaped at Warren's request, but caution forced her to ask, "And . . . ? What else?"

  "There's nothing else. Just acquaint him with the land."

  "Isn't Coy supposed to do that?" It wasn't that she did not want to show him around, she merely thought arrangements had already been made with Coy.

  He grumbled angrily, "I can't count on that boy for anything! Every time I need him, he's in town or off gallivanting God only knows where. I can't spare any of the men right now either . . . and you're the only one left I can depend on. Besides, you know this land as well as Coy does."

  "What does Adam have to say about it?" Blair kept her features deceptively composed while she tried to figure out what Warren was up to. There had to be more to this than he was telling. But should she confront him with her doubts or just leave it alone and see what happened?

  "I haven't mentioned it to him yet. I wanted to wait to hear what you had to say."

  Blair's slender hands unconsciously twisted together, then she flicked an imaginary speck of dirt from her dress. The terrific battle that waged within was clearly evident. No! she suddenly decided. I care too much for Adam to agree to Warren's request without knowing what he has in mind . . . and he is definitely up to something!

  "Before I answer . . . Warren, we've never minced words so let's not start now. You have never done anything without a reason ..."

  "You must not have a very high opinion of me." His head was tipped slightly to avoid her eyes.

  "That's where you are wrong, I respect you very much. Although, I do think you are stubborn, obstinate, and at times, even scheming, but there's no doubt you are an honest man. However, it seems to me, that there are two possibilities. One is: you are trying to throw us together. Why? What's your motive?"

  "Motive?" He pretended innocence.

  She stubbornly folded her arms. "Yes-motive. You know as well as I, a guide would be extremely helpful to Adam, but he really doesn't need one. You've told him about the area, and I've seen him studying your maps. Granted, if he's alone, it will take a little longer for him to find some of the out-of-the-way places, but he will find them eventually. The other possibility is: you do not want him to
leave just now, and for whatever the reason, you are reluctant to ask him to stay." Her cheeks flushed and her eyes narrowed. "So ... if that's the case, you are willing to use me as bait to entice him to stay." She gasped indignantly, "Warren! How could you?"

  Warren stared hard at her for a moment, then he threw his head back and guffawed. "I'll have to admit, girl, I like your salt. Maybe if you kids had stood up to me more in the past, I wouldn't be so ornery now. It's a damn shame you wasn't a boy. Why, we could have ..."

  In spite of her indignation, a tiny grin played with the corner of her mouth. "Don't change the subject, Warren. Either you tell me the real reason behind all of this or else I will refuse."

  "All right, I'll tell you." He sat back down on the bed and hitched up one pants leg. When he gazed at her again, his features were deadly serious. "I do want Adam to stay, and I have a reason, a damn good reason. It's Coy." His lips tightened in anger. "I'm sure you have heard him run his mouth about the vigilantes. I'm afraid he's joined them. Hell, he might be one of the ringleaders for all I know. I realize Adam doesn't have that much jurisdiction here, but if he stayed around until after the land is opened to the homesteaders, the presence of a deputy marshal might be intimidating enough to ward off any serious trouble. I figure the law will be moving in soon thereafter, then there won't be any reason to keep the vigilante group active."

  Blair paced about the room. She would do anything to keep Coy out of trouble, although her first impulse was to throttle him for behaving so foolishly. But why did Warren act so mysterious and even . . . devious about asking Adam?

  "Why not just explain to Adam what you’ve told me?"

  Warren shook his head. "Knowing his feelings about the vigilantes, I hate to put him in that position, especially when he has no real authority here. He's my friend, Blair, and I hate like hell to use him this way . . . but I have to consider Coy, too." He shrugged dejectedly. "Maybe in the meantime we can talk some sense into his head . . . but I doubt it. That boy is as stubborn and headstrong as they come."