Maverick Wild

by Stacey Kayne

  “Hello, Red,” Garret said to the young foal lying beside its mother in the hay. At the sound of his voice, the small horse struggled onto its spindly legs. The only white on the foal was four socks and the hint of light flecks on the filly’s backside. Her new coat gleamed.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “Isn’t she?” Garret opened the gate and motioned for her to go ahead of him. “This one’s gonna be a real prize.”

  Cora knelt down to pet the fluffy fur of its neck. “She does shimmer.”

  Garret crouched beside her, brushing his hand across its coat in a vigorous caress. “Too bad they don’t keep this soft down. I’ll be surprised if Tucker sells her. He sure waited long enough to breed Rosie.”

  “Hey, Garret! You in here?”

  “Yeah,” Garret answered, standing to look over the stall.

  Cora rose up enough to see a head of thick blond hair step in from the bright sunlight. Tucker smiled at the sight of her, and Cora released a sigh of relief. She’d been doing her best to avoid Chance. He seemed to be doing the same. She wasn’t quite sure what had come over her the other day and didn’t care to explore the startling sensations she’d been feeling in his presence ever since.

  “You came out.”

  “She’s beautiful, Tucker.”

  He turned his attention to Garret. “Ike says he spotted the wildcat you’ve been hunting. Took down a calf out on the north pasture. You want to ride out or should I?”

  Garret glanced back at her, indecision clear in his hazel eyes.

  “Go,” she said.

  He hurried from the stall, saying, “I just gotta grab my rifle.”

  Tucker leaned against the gate, his expression thoughtful as he held her gaze. “You know, you’re the only one aside from Skylar who can do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Tell us apart at a glance. I must get called Chance ten times a day.”

  Cora rolled her eyes. “I’d think anyone could sense the difference. Chance puts off a cold front I can feel a mile away.”

  “He doesn’t mean any real harm, you know? He’s just—”

  “Rude.”

  Tucker smiled and crossed his arms over the top of the gate. “I was going to say blunt, but I suppose you’re right. I guess we’re all just used to him. It’s nothing personal against you, I swear.”

  Sadness washed through her. She glanced back at the foal and ran her hand across its soft coat. “He’s made it quite clear that he hates me. It doesn’t get much more personal than that.”

  “Darlin’, Chance doesn’t hate you any more than he hates me.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  “I think half the time he fools himself. I’m sure it would be a lot easier to just not care about anyone. He carried a lot of grief over leaving you behind. We both did. We left home ready to save the world and discovered we could hardly save ourselves. By the time we made it back to the farm, Winifred had sold off the land and you were long gone.”

  Cora’s heart clenched. “You really went back for me?”

  “Not soon enough. Couldn’t have been an easy life, living with your mother.”

  “We’ve all had our hardships,” she said, moving to stand across the gate from him. The knowledge that they’d gone back healed some of the hurt she’d been carrying for so long. “Chance mentioned you’d both been in a prison camp.”

  Tucker’s eyes widened in clear surprise. “He told you about that?”

  “Just a brief mention.”

  “Which is about all he’s ever said to me on the subject. Since we got out, he’s refused to talk about it. Not exactly highlights either of us care to rehash.”

  “I’m sorry. It must have been horrible.”

  “It was pure hell. Being a couple of smartass kids who didn’t realize we were in well over our heads didn’t help us any. It was Chance’s rotten luck to be the instigator the night one of the guards figured out we had one real weakness.”

  He shifted his gaze to the foal. The pain she saw in his eyes sent a chill over Cora’s skin. As silence stretched, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what that weakness had been, but she had to ask.

  “What weakness?”

  “By hurting just one of us, he could crush the other.”

  Her breath stalled. “Was Chance beaten?”

  Tucker shook his head. “Not that night or during the days that followed. The guard thought he’d grabbed Chance, but after he started in on me it didn’t much matter. I don’t remember much after that. No doubt I would have died if a sympathetic soldier hadn’t sneaked us out of camp.”

  “Oh, Tucker.”

  “I was the lucky one. I don’t remember hardly any of it. Having to be the spectator sure snuffed Chance’s fire. He’s generally one for sticking to the straight and narrow, and tugs me back in line when I need it.”

  “I don’t know how to take him,” she admitted.

  “I suspect he’s having the same problem. Give him some time. As I recall, it took us a while to warm to you after our folks married. But we ended up having us a time.” He smiled fondly. “Never would have guessed a girl could be so skilled at gigging frogs.”

  “I never had so much fun in my life as the time I spent with both of you. That hasn’t changed. The past two weeks have been a blessing.”

  “We sure hope you won’t rush off.”

  She didn’t see any other option. The tension between her and Chance was only getting worse. “It was never my intention to stay,” she said, reminding herself of that very fact. Though she had hoped to find a home with the brothers of her youth, she’d merely needed time to catch her breath, make a plan for her future. “You don’t need to worry about me,” she said, forcing a smile. “Like a weed, I can root anywhere.”

  “You’re not a weed, Cora. You’re family.”

  That in itself was a gift. In the past couple weeks she’d nearly felt part of a family.

  “I’d better get back to work,” he said, pushing away from the gate. “I’ll be over in the next barn. If you need any help getting back to the house, just give a holler.”

  “Thank you.”

  He reached over and tugged gently on a stray curl, his emerald eyes gleaming with a smile. “That’s what big brothers are for.”

  Brothers. That had been all she’d ever wanted, to have them back in her life.

  Watching him leave, she stepped from the stall and glanced around the clean stable, their care and hard work clearly visible. She was proud of all they’d achieved, the life they’d made for themselves.

  Rosie moved forward, sticking her head over the gate. Cora reached up and rubbed behind her stiff ears. Cora’s heart ached, knowing her presence only dredged up bad memories for the one man she never wanted to hurt.

  “How’s my best girl?”

  The warm gentle voice washed through Cora Mae like a caress. She pressed into the shadows against the stall and peered beneath Rosie’s muzzle. Chance stood in the sunlight that poured in from the side door. His back to her, he reached into the first stall and patted a large fawn horse.

  “Feeling neglected?” he asked.

  Very.

  “Soon as you drop that foal I’ll have you back out there. ’Course, then you’ll be more interested in looking after your colt than chasing down mavericks with me.”

  No wonder he hardly ever spoke around his family. He obviously saved his conversation for the horses. She watched his hands move caressingly over the horse’s coat. He saved his touch for the horses, too. At the thought of his hands moving so softly over her, a tingling jolted through her body.

  Good gracious.

  She glanced back at the end door where a wedge of sunlight glittered across a wide puddle. Inching her way back, she stepped lightly through the water. Once around the side of the stable, she released a hard sigh of relief.

  She didn’t know how to take him at all, she thought. She hurried up the mucky slope. She wanted to make it back to the path befo
re Chance left the stable. With her next step, she slipped and splashed onto her knees.

  “Blast.” Gritting her teeth, she plucked her hands from the cold mud. The stuff clung to her like clay as she tried to push to her feet. Finally upright, she took another step.

  Her feet shot forward. With a shriek she landed flat on her back.

  Drenched in cold, Cora sucked in a shuddering breath. She sat up, everything but the front of her bodice now coated in mud. Hoping to salvage a shred of pride, she tucked her feet beneath her, ready to try again.

  Coarse laughter drew her gaze to the top of the rise. A gleam of sunlight outlined broad shoulders and the vee of Chance’s chest. He towered over her like a Greek god. Beneath the hat tugged low on his brow, his green eyes sparkled with sheer delight, turning her embarrassment to pure rage.

  “This isn’t funny!”

  “From where I stand, it’s downright hysterical.” He sauntered toward her. Chuckling, he stepped lightly through the mud. “Need a hand?”

  “No, thank you.” She pushed to her feet, her fingers digging into the soft mud as she stood.

  “How about a bucket of water?”

  His laughter died the moment he spotted her fistful of mud. He cocked a golden eyebrow. “You’re a bit too old for mud fights, Cora Mae.”

  Mud drizzled between her fingers as she clenched her fist. She was just the right age to knock him on his overgrown, arrogant butt. “How many times must I tell you to call me Cora?” she said, taking aim at his annoyingly handsome face.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You’re far too prissy to end up facedown in the mud.”

  “Which shows how little you know me,” she said, and slung.

  Mud slapped him across the face and splattered against his blue shirt. His stunned expression forced a laugh past her tight lips. Expecting him to rage, she took a sliding step back. His swift smile caught her completely off guard.

  “Oh, you’re in for it now.” He tugged off his hat, tossed it to safety, then reached toward the ground.

  Cora rushed back, sliding as she groped for another fistful. Mud struck her dress. She screamed and pelted him in the chest.

  “You little—” He collided against her. Cora screeched as she went down, splashing into the mud. Laughing, Chance landed on his knees beside her. He glanced up, his eyes alive with mischief.

  “I warned you.” He stood and dumped a handful of muck on her head.

  “My hair!” she sputtered. She grabbed ahold of his booted ankle and tugged.

  Chance went down with a mighty splat. He pulled her into the mud right beside him.

  “Heathen!” she shouted, twisting against his hold as he wrestled her over the top of him.

  “Girl!” He pinned her beneath him, her face an inch from black water. “You do know I could drown you in this stuff if I wanted to?”

  She peered up at him through the grime dripping from her hair, her grin so wide her cheeks ached. “Big words for a mudskipper.”

  Deep laughter leaped from his chest and his hold loosened, giving Cora the advantage she needed. She lunged up, tackling him back into the mud. They sloshed in a mad struggle to subdue the other. Overtaken with giggles, Cora lost her grip and he slipped from her grasp. He rolled her to the ground, thoroughly soaking her.

  “Chance!”

  “Yield!”

  “Never!”

  “What the hell’s going on!”

  Chance released his hold just enough for her to look up. Tucker stood outside the second stable, his eyes wide with horror.

  Chance rolled away from her and sat up. “Hey, Tuck.”

  “Chance? Cora? My God, are you…okay?”

  “Is she okay? She nearly drowned me.” A wide smile parted the mud on his face.

  Cora laughed, quite proud that he currently bore no resemblance to his twin.

  “Do you two have any idea what you look like?”

  “This is your brother’s dirty work,” she said, struggling onto her knees.

  “She started it.” Chance nudged her shoulder.

  Cora pushed away from her muddy opponent and got to her feet. Chance grabbed the back of her dress and tugged her into the mud as he stood.

  “Oops.”

  “You big—”

  “Here, let me help you up.” Chance grabbed her hand and tugged her to her feet. His green eyes shone with laughter.

  Startled by a sudden stir of awareness, Cora’s breath caught. Even coated in grime, he was breathtaking.

  “You’ve both lost your minds,” said Tucker, shaking his head as he turned away. “I hope you don’t plan on walking into the house like that. Skylar’s likely to have heart failure at the sight of you.”

  The house. Cora glanced down at her mud-soaked dress. “Oh my goodness.”

  “What’s the matter? You just realize you’re too filthy to get to the tub?”

  “I don’t see what you’re grinning about,” she said as she trudged her way to a patch of semidry ground. “You are just as muddy.”

  Chance was beside her in a few easy strides. “You still know how to swim, don’t you?”

  “I suppose I—” His arm closing around her cut off her words.

  “Good,” he said, cradling her against his chest.

  “Chance!” Her arms locked round his neck. “Put me down!”

  “In a minute.”

  “I’m too heavy!”

  He jiggled her, making her cling to him. “Are you calling me weak?”

  His wide smile mesmerized. Her heart started that wild cadence. “No,” she said, her gaze locked with his. “Never that.”

  She could feel the ripple of his muscles as he moved. A shudder stole through her. It wasn’t fear. Surprisingly, it felt quite nice to be wrapped in his brawn, the intensity of his eyes stirring a warmth deep inside her. She felt as though she were melting into his embrace. His face moved closer, and Cora’s breath stalled.

  “Cora?”

  “Yes?”

  “Hold your breath.” With that, he dropped her.

  She splashed into the pond and the bite of freezing water. She came up shivering and sputtering for breath. “You…are the biggest…bully!”

  “Am not.” He dove off the end of the dock. A moment later he surfaced beside her. “I’m just helping you get cleaned up.” He reached for the wooden deck above them. Muscles flexed, and he was standing on the dock. He turned, smiling as he crouched low. “Give me your hands.”

  She reached up. The warmth of his fingers clasped over hers. With one tug she was out of the water and colliding against his firm chest. His arms banded around her to keep her from falling back into the pond. His body gave off an amazing amount of heat.

  He turned her toward the center of the dock, then gripped her shoulders and set her roughly away from him.

  “No hard feelings?” he asked, his expression wary.

  “You’re the one with hard feelings.”

  Chance couldn’t deny it. After the way she’d looked at him before he’d tossed her into the water and rubbed against him just now, his hard feelings were about to bust through his fly. A condition that only worsened as Cora Mae reached back to gather the length of her sopping hair.

  Her dress clung to every dip and curve in her body. The light gray fabric did little to hide the rosy-tipped evidence of her chill.

  Desire swept through him.

  Cora gasped, just before she wrapped her arms around her chest, hiding those hard peeks.

  “Chance. I can’t go up to the house like this.”

  “No, you can’t,” he said, taking in the curvaceous view that was guaranteed to keep him awake for nights on end.

  “Chance!”

  His gaze snapped up to Cora Mae’s wide eyes.

  “Stop gaping and get me something before I freeze!”

  He turned away before she could see the proof of his stray thoughts strained against his britches. He stepped into the boots he’d taken off before diving off the dock
and went to fetch a blanket from the clothesline.

  When he came back, Cora Mae was shivering beside the tree a few yards beyond the dock. She flashed a timid smile, and he couldn’t help wondering if she’d taste as sweet as she looked.

  He swung the blanket around her shoulders, then used it to pull her against his body, and she let him, pressing flush against his chest.

  “Thank you,” she said, a sigh breaking from her lips.

  He tried to tell himself she was cold and was only seeking his warmth, but his body wasn’t listening.

  “Cora Mae—”

  “Cora,” she corrected automatically, taking a small step back, making him wonder if she’d just noticed the intimacy of her body pressed to his. He smiled, and felt a shudder sweep through her that had nothing to do with being cold. He saw desire in those brown and copper depths.

  “Cora,” he said, making sure he got it right, just before he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. She stiffened. His hand slid into her hair, preventing her from pulling away. She gasped and he deepened the kiss, gliding his tongue across hers in a fleeting caress, drawing a sugary sweetness into his mouth, and the faint taste of lemon.

  Dear God. She tasted better than in his dreams.

  He returned to the satin sweetness of her mouth for a full sampling. She stood in the circle of his arms, letting him kiss her, but not quite participating. Coaxingly, he flicked her tongue.

  Kiss me back, Cora Mae.

  She shivered against him. Her tongue moved lightly against his, and passion burst through him, dragging out a groan of suppressed desire.

  The blanket dropped away as he smoothed his hand down her back. The most arousing sounds rose from her throat. Every timid stroke of her tongue kissed him into oblivion.

  By the time he drew his mouth away from hers, she was relaxed in his arms, her breathing as sporadic as his own. He smiled into her wide, passion-filled eyes and pushed a long auburn curl away from her face, tucking the damp strands behind her ears.

  “Chance?” Cora tried to catch her breath, her mind a haze of confusion as she blinked up at him. How could her muscles have turned to melted butter while her heart raced fit to burst? “I’m dizzy.”