Solitary Horseman

by Camp, Deborah

  Her smile of satisfaction at leaving Decker in a cloud of dust faded as her bad mood descended on her again. She’d fully expected to see Callum at church. He’d asked her if she would be in attendance and then he didn’t show up! What really rankled was that she cared so much about it. If someone offered her twenty dollars to recite twenty words the pastor had spoken in his sermon, she’d be at a loss. All she’d been focused on was watching for Callum, waiting for him, wondering why he’d changed his mind about attending services. After a night’s sleep did he face the morning regretting the day he’d spent with her and his conduct?

  She tried to shake off the feelings and silence the taunting voice in her head, telling her that he was just a man who had given in to his baser instincts, but it didn’t mean a thing to him.

  Sadie had glared at her several times during services until finally Banner had glared right back, arching a brow in a silent question. With a jerk of her chin, Sadie had turned away from her to whisper something to the woman sitting beside her. The older woman had glanced at Banner and wrinkled her nose in distaste.

  Oooh! Banner fumed inwardly, remembering how she’d wanted to stomp across the church and tell them that she’d had enough of their holier-than-thou attitudes. Instead, she had remained seated and wished she’d stayed home instead of coming to church, not to worship as she should have done, but to spend time with Callum Latimer. How pathetic.

  Looking back over her own conduct, she was ashamed of herself. Not for kissing Callum or the need that he’d sparked inside her. No. But for all the times people had ridiculed her or turned their noses up at her and she had tried to make herself small and disappear. She’d grown up accepting the abuse, turning the other cheek, letting her brothers do the talking back and fist fighting.

  “Time for you to fight for yourself,” she murmured, sitting taller and feeling her spine stiffen with resolve. “No more biting your tongue. No more not speaking your mind. And no more making excuses for other people’s behavior or your own!”

  Instead of wondering why Callum wasn’t at church and worrying that he didn’t want to face her again so soon, she would, by gosh, ask him about it at her earliest opportunity!

  She was so deep into her thoughts and aggravated with herself that she didn’t notice what was going on in front of her house until Pansy blew out a noisy breath and tossed her head vigorously. Banner squinted against the glare of the sun at the man bent over in front of her porch, hammer in hand. Several boards were stacked on the lawn and a saw glinted on top of them. What in the world was Hollis doing now? She secretly hoped that the steps had finally broken, forcing Hollis to repair them. The sunlight skimmed over shoulders that were too broad to belong to her brother. She sucked in a quick breath. Callum! What in tarnation was he doing?

  He straightened and looked around, lifting one gloved hand in greeting. “Howdy there, Miss Payne.”

  She tugged mightily at the reins to get Pansy to stop instead of continuing to plod toward the barn and a feedbag. “What are you . . . Pansy, whoa!” She finally wrestled the horse to a full stop. “What, pray tell, are you doing here?” Her gaze fell on the fresh lumber comprising a set of sturdy steps leading up to her porch and shock knocked the breath and irritation out of her. “You fixed them,” she whispered, awed.

  He used one thumb to push the brim of his hat back. “I surely did.”

  Her gaze tracked up the porch to the front door that was no longer hanging on by one hinge. “And the door!” She blinked, wondering if her eyes deceived her. What in the world was this all about? Why would he . . ? Her hands loosened on the reins and Pansy took that as a sign for her to move on. The wagon jerked and Banner almost tumbled from the seat.

  Callum was there in a flash, grabbing onto Pansy’s halter to keep her in place. “Whoa! You okay, Banner?”

  “Yes.” She shook her head, baffled. “Why did you do this?”

  “I didn’t feel like going to church today.” He shrugged, his green eyes dancing with sunlight.

  “You never intended on going to church this morning, did you?”

  He reached up a hand to her. “Get down from there. I’ll unhitch Pansy.”

  She started to put her gloved hand into his, but then pulled away, confusion whirling in her brain like stirred up bees. “I’ll see to Pansy.”

  “Are you angry about something?”

  “I’m baffled as to why you would spend your Sunday morning repairing these steps and my front door.”

  “Just being neighborly. Something wrong with that?”

  “No, of course not.” She bobbed one shoulder. “Thank you.” Uncharitable, she knew, and the better part of her told her that she shouldn’t take out her bad mood on him. But he was there and she was brewing for a fight.

  “You’re welcome.” He eyed her, then gripped Pansy’s halter and started walking her toward the barn.

  “What are you doing?” She heard the whip-snap of her tone and tried to rein in her foul disposition.

  “I’ll help you unhitch the wagon.”

  “No, that’s okay. I can do it.”

  He glanced back at her. “So can I.”

  “Callum, I hitch and unhitch this wagon every day.”

  “Yep.”

  She slumped a little in defeat. “Have you seen Hollis?”

  “He went fishing.”

  “Did he have a pole?”

  Callum scratched at his whiskered jaw, making her aware that he hadn’t shaved this morning. “Come to think of it, I don’t think he did.”

  “Then he’s off somewhere reading poetry. He’ll show up at supper time.”

  “Even before the war, your brothers weren’t much for repairing things around the house.”

  Instinctively, she bristled and started to sass him, but stopped herself. What he’d said was the bald truth, but it still rankled. “Pa and the boys always acted like the house was my territory. They farmed, raised cattle, and hunted. I cooked and cleaned and kept up the house. But there were some things I didn’t know how to do.”

  They’d reached the barn and he helped her down from the wagon. “Hollis should do more around here.”

  “He does what he can. He needs time to be alone.” She brushed down her skirt. “I’ve fussed to him countless times about the steps and how I wish the door was back on its hinges.” Looking up, she felt her eyes widen when he actually rolled his at her.

  “And why do I deserve that look?” She propped her hands on her hips and her sour mood bubbled to the surface again.

  “Yammering on about something just makes a man’s ears plug up. Women need to tell men what they want.”

  “Yammering? That’s what women do? Well, maybe we think that men should be smart enough to figure these things out for themselves! Maybe we think we shouldn’t have to ask for something that’s broken to be fixed. Nobody has to ask me to cook dinner. I’m sharp enough to realize that folks get hungry when they’re not fed.”

  One corner of his mouth quirked up and lights danced in his green eyes. “You sure you’re not riled, Banner?”

  His beguiling grin cooled her temper and smoothed her rough edges. “Maybe a little.” She shrugged. “But I believe in what I said.”

  “You sure you’re not sore at me about something? Maybe about yesterday?”

  “I didn’t enjoy church this morning is all.” Fiddling with her bonnet to keep from looking at him, she added, “But I do very much appreciate what you’ve done around here this morning.”

  “I was pleased to do it.” He took over and within a few minutes the wagon was unhitched and Pansy was chomping on oats and hay. Banner shut the stall door and turned, thinking Callum was still in the barn, but he was out by the house, hoisting lumber he hadn’t used onto one shoulder before heading back in her direction.

  “I’ll put this in here. I might need if for another project.”

  “What project?”

  He stacked the milled boards against the barn wall and straightened. “You
could use some deeper shelves in your kitchen.”

  “I could, but it’s not your place to do such things for me.” She joined him out in the sunlight. “So, what made you decide to do all of this?”

  “We’re partners.” He thumbed back his hat, pushing it farther up his forehead. “Neighbors.”

  “Or maybe you’re feeling a mite ashamed of yourself and you’re trying to set things right.”

  He blinked his thick, spikey lashes at her. “Come again?” What would I be ashamed of?”

  “Of what we . . .” She pressed her lips together, exasperated at him for making her say it. “Kissing the way we did.”

  “The day I’m ashamed of kissing a pretty woman is the day hell will freeze over.” He poked his index finger at her. “I’ll have you know, Miss Payne, that I decided to fix your steps and front door to show you some kindness. I appreciate how you’ve treated my father, especially since he’s been so hateful toward you. He’s getting around better and I know that’s because of you bullying him and hounding him. That’s why I decided to do a bit of work around here.” He stalked away from her, but after a few long strides, he stopped and spun back around. “You’re the one having regrets about yesterday.” Then he headed for the house again.

  She stomped after him, lifting her skirts a little to clear her pounding feet. “I do not! I was at church today because you asked me to be there and you didn’t show up.”

  “I didn’t ask you to be at church,” he flung over his shoulder. “I asked if you were going to church. I wanted to surprise you.” He straightened suddenly as she skidded to a halt in front of him. “Generally, people go to church to worship the Lord.” One corner of his mouth twitched. “Did I just hear you say that you were at church for some other reason?”

  She tipped back her head to look up at his sparkling eyes and half-smile. Her heart tripped over itself. The dark stubble shadowing his jawline made him seem even more virile. Everything soft and feminine in her curled and purred. The tart words melted on her tongue.

  “You’re making fun of me,” she accused even as she felt a smile spread across her lips.

  “Maybe.” He swept his hat off and ruffled his black hair. “Maybe I just can’t seem to help myself when I’m around you. And maybe, just maybe you want me to do this as much as I want to do it.” Before she knew what he was about, his free hand curved at her waist and he tugged her forward as his mouth descended. His lips brushed against hers softly, questioningly. A mewling sound emerged from her throat and he answered it with a deep growl as her lips parted and his warm tongue sought entrance.

  Kissing him was a revelation that never seemed to lose any of its power and wonder. Banner opened to him like a flower to the sun and his tongue slid carnally against hers, stealing her breath and her restraint. His hand slipped around to her back, pressing her against him so that she was achingly aware of his hard, muscled body.

  “I can’t keep my hands off you, Banner Payne,” he whispered against her lips. “Why is that?”

  She didn’t know. She couldn’t speak. All of the confusion and spite she’d been feeling disappeared and she wanted only for his mouth to claim hers again. She snaked one hand up his chest, his neck, and his whisker-dotted jaw until she could grab a fistful of his inky hair and bring his wicked lips back to hers. She felt his hesitation, wondered if she were being too bold, too brash, but then his mouth covered hers in a deep, drugging kiss. A yearning seared through her like a flame-tipped arrow and she wanted him. Oh, how she wanted him! She wanted him in a way she’d never wanted a man before – completely, carnally, passionately.

  “What are y’all doin’?”

  Banner nearly jumped out of her skin in contrast to Callum. He slowly straightened from her and turned slightly toward Hollis, who stood a few feet from them, wearing a thunderous expression.

  “What does it look like we’re doing, Hollis?” Callum drawled.

  “Hollis! L-look what Callum did!” Hearing the strident, startled tone of her voice and feeling her face flame with embarrassment, Banner stepped back from Callum and motioned toward the porch. “He fixed the steps and the door.”

  “How come?” Hollis asked, giving Callum a squinty glare.

  “To show his appreciation for—”

  “She deserves it, that’s how come,” Callum interrupted. “You might be okay with your sister almost breaking her pretty neck on those steps and having to almost pick up that door in order to close it, but I’m not.”

  Banner grabbed Callum’s shirtsleeve. “Don’t,” she whispered to him, wanting to avoid a confrontation. “You need to get back to your place and I need to get inside and figure out something for supper.”

  “Just what do you think you were doing, sister? Thanking him?”

  “Hollis, please.” Banner sent him a steely glare.

  “You know good and well what we were doing,” Callum said, rocking his hat back onto his head.

  “You said you’d watch yourself around him,” Hollis said in an accusatory tone.

  Her breath whistled down her throat and she felt her face heat with embarrassment and anger.

  Callum pinned her with a questioning stare. “Is that right?”

  “Hollis has a big mouth.” She glared at her brother before addressing Callum again. “Thank you for all you did here today, but if you don’t mind, I need to speak privately with my brother.”

  Hollis barged past them and into the house, slamming the newly positioned front door behind him. Banner flinched.

  “Looks like it’ll hold up,” Callum noted with dry sarcasm. He crooked a finger under her chin and brought her gaze up to his again. “You think you have to watch yourself around me? You really don’t trust me one bit, do you?”

  “I do. I wouldn’t be partnering with you if I didn’t.”

  “I’m not out to hurt you, Banner.” His gaze roved over her face, making her wonder what he saw or didn’t see there. Then he turned and made his way to where Butter was tethered under a tree.

  Banner watched him go, her emotions again in a turmoil. Could she truly trust him not to hurt her? Was he trifling with her or were his feelings toward her honorable?

  The sound of her meddlesome brother stomping around inside the house jarred her out of her quandary and brought her back to her earlier state of embarrassment. He knew better than to discuss her feelings in front of Callum like that! If anyone had been trying to hurt or shame her in that moment, it had been Hollis! Setting her face in a stern frown, she marched up the new steps and flung open the sturdy front door. As her papa used to say, she was in a sod pawin’, horn tossin’ mood.

  ###

  Butter walked slowly toward home, her neck and head swaying lazily from side to side, her nostrils flared to pick up every scent along the way. Callum let her have her head, the reins lax in his gloved hands, his thoughts on the woman he’d left behind him minutes ago.

  He could still taste Banner, smell her, feel her. It had been so long since a woman had woven a spell around him, that he’d convinced himself he didn’t need it or miss it. What a damned fool he was! Hell, when he was with her, holding her, his heart bucked like a randy bull, his blood boiled in his veins, and a need to own her, possess her, and protect her consumed him. He felt good and bad all over.

  Thinking back to when he’d returned after the war, he had believed that there was nothing left inside him to respond to a woman other than for sexual release. He wanted to be alone, unencumbered by a female that he was expected to woo and do for. Women had eyed him speculatively and he’d eyed them back, but let them know that he wanted their bodies and that’s all. No courting. No emotions. He just didn’t have it in him anymore.

  Then along came Banner Payne and all her complexities.

  Banner with her big golden eyes and long dark hair. She was soft and tough, sweet and tart, shy and bold, wise and innocent. At first, he didn’t know quite how to approach her, but then she’d helped him pull the calf and . . . well, something
was birthed inside him. A feeling . . . and one he had thought long dead. A need to mate – and not just in the physical sense. He wanted to know her mind, her heart, her body, and her soul. He wanted to merge with her. He wanted her. All of her. He needed to taste every delectable inch of her smooth, blushing skin. He yearned to hear her moan his name and press against him to feel what her body did to his body and submit to her womanly instincts.

  He’d fought these feelings for her . . . but after the barbecue he’d decided to quit sparring with nature. He could tell that she liked him by the way she responded to his kisses, kissing him back with a passion that made his head spin and his body harden.

  Yesterday when he’d seen and heard how others treated her, his need to protect and defend her had nearly overwhelmed him. The possessiveness he’d felt for her blew through him like a hot wind and that feeling of living again made him realize that Banner could be his salvation. She could be his reason to break the bonds of his years as a soulless soldier and discover whatever was left of the man he used to be.

  Recalling the snippets of conversation, he realized that she’d been disappointed when he hadn’t been at church. That told him a lot. Probably more than she’d meant to reveal to him. She might say that she wanted him only as a business partner, but her body told him something entirely different. The way she looked at him – those light brown eyes glittering with desire – and the way her hands moved over his shoulders and chest and fisted in his hair spoke to him woman to man.

  He shifted in the saddle as his manhood twitched and lengthened. As if sensing his sudden discomfort, Butter’s ears shifted back and forward and she brought her head up.

  “It’s okay, girl,” he murmured and leaned forward to rub his hot face against her mane. He heard the pop and felt the air part over his head. Butter trembled all over and bolted. “Goddamn it!” Callum grabbed a handful of the mare’s mane and reached for his rifle with the other hand as the realization that he’d been shot at filled his veins with ice water.

  Drawing the rifle out of its saddle sling, he cocked it and let Butter stretch into a run toward the tree line. Out in the open, he felt like a rabbit being chased by a pack of wolves. He looked over his shoulder, seeking any movement, any silhouette, any sign of his enemy. Someone had aimed for his head and missed by an inch. If he hadn’t leaned forward when he did, he might be a dead man right now.