Four Weddings and a Kiss

by Margaret Brownley

  A thud from behind told her the bear was off the ledge. Another growl seemed to blow hot breath on the back of Maizy’s neck. Or maybe that was just the hair on the back of her neck standing up in pure terror.

  The bull charged, putting itself between the bear and the calf, then stopped to paw the earth with its front feet.

  Rylan fired again and again.

  Sprinting to get out of the middle, Maizy heard the thundering hooves ahead, the scratching claws of the grizzly right behind, and the deep-throated threats from the bull.

  The calf bawled piteously. The anxious mama cow rushed to her baby and began leading it away as fast as its unsteady legs would carry it.

  Judging from the growling behind her, Maizy knew the grizzly was more interested in her than a belligerent Angus.

  Running, hoping the bear would give up, she raced straight for Rylan.

  She saw his eyes take in the danger, then go to his bull, then come back to her. He kept firing and racing forward.

  Sprinting flat out, her boots thumped out a desperate beat.

  He jammed his rifle back into its scabbard on the saddle and drew his six-gun. He couldn’t shoot the bear—Maizy was right in the way—but he kept up the gunfire, probably hoping he’d scare the grizzly into breaking off the attack.

  It wasn’t working worth a hoot.

  “Maizy,” Rylan shouted as they closed the gap, “grab my hand.”

  He kicked his foot out of one stirrup to give Maizy a place to land. He holstered his pistol and took a firm hold of his pommel. Their eyes locked. He nodded at her. She tightened her jaw in grim determination and nodded back.

  His hand extended. She slapped her hand into his and he caught her. The grip slid. He clamped onto her wrist with the other hand, leaving the horse without a hand on the reins. He swung her up and she aimed to end up behind him. In the rush, she didn’t get a good swing, and Rylan made a desperate heave to keep her from falling to the ground. She landed facedown in front of him, her belly right on the pommel of his saddle. She was glad to be wearing britches.

  Rylan pulled hard to bring his horse to a stop, and he unloaded his gun on the bear. The horse tried to rear and tossed its head in fear. The iron bit jingled as the horse fought Rylan’s control.

  Maizy turned to her left to watch the bear wheel to face the bull. The bull must’ve thought better of fighting now that his herd was out of the way. He turned and ran.

  The bullets were little more than stinging wasps to the bear and only served to turn its attention back to Rylan.

  The powerful red horse pivoted, and on its first stride leapt into a full gallop.

  Grizzly bears, huge as they were, were mighty fast. Maizy knew that from growing up in the mountains of New Mexico and meeting up with a few, though never this close. But their speed was short-lived—or so she’d heard.

  She sure as shootin’ hoped that proved to be true. If the horse could outrun the monster for a few yards, they’d make it.

  Maizy, head down, clung to Rylan’s right leg. The pommel cut into her gut, and her own legs dangled off the other side. She wanted to search for that empty stirrup but was mindful not to jar Rylan or distract him from getting the most out of his thoroughbred.

  Those thundering front hooves kicked up nearly to Maizy’s face. She lifted her head enough to peek around Rylan’s boot and saw the bear gaining on them. Its jaws gaped open. It closed in on the horse even with the stallion going at full speed.

  “Hang on.” Rylan kicked his horse and the valiant chestnut, already wild with fear, dug deep and found more speed. The bear lunged forward and a huge paw, claws bared, took a swipe and snagged the horse’s tail. That swipe broke the bear’s charge.

  Finally they were stretching out the distance between them as the bear slowed. It dropped to a trot, then a walk, then stood up on two legs, front paws extended in the air, and sent them on their way with an ugly chain of growling threats.

  Maizy’s belly was being stabbed good and hard. She hadn’t paid it much mind until now. The horse was safely away, and Maizy saw the grizzly turn and jog back the way it’d come. “It’s stopped,” Maizy shouted.

  “Hang on!” Rylan’s ordered shout brought Maizy’s head around, and she saw that the ground was broken ahead. This was Rylan’s land, but Maizy had lived here all her life. She knew this was a bad stretch, littered with boulders and cut by water running off the mountain to the river.

  The horse was running away, terrorized. Rylan was easing the horse up, but they weren’t going slow enough to navigate the dangerous patch. No horse racing full speed could hope to get through it unharmed.

  The horse tossed its head and fought the reins, but finally began to respond. Maizy recognized the expert handling of the reins as Rylan tried to gain control of the panicked horse.

  They reached the first line of scattered rocks.

  Rylan picked his moment and yelled, “Whoa!”

  He pulled back hard and the horse skidded until it nearly sat down on its haunches. As they came to a stop, the horse neighed and reared, straight up, higher and higher. Maizy felt the stallion going over backward.

  Rylan shoved her so she fell off feetfirst and he dove to the other side. Maizy rolled over and over, afraid of where the horse might land, until she came up hard against a massive stone. She whirled to see Rylan being dragged, one foot stuck in the stirrup. Leaping to her feet, Maizy drew her gun to shoot the horse that had saved their lives, just as Rylan fell free and rolled hard against a boulder.

  Maizy heard the crack as Rylan’s head struck stone.

  She raced on shaking legs to where he lay flat on his back. Out cold. His face white as ash.

  Maizy crawled to his side, terrified that he was dead. His chest rose and fell steadily. He was alive! Looking around, she saw that his horse was nowhere in sight. A lump was already rising on his forehead, and seconds later she saw blood soaking through his tattered pants. Drawing her knife, she slit the leg of his britches. His knee was bleeding and his leg already showed some swelling.

  It had to be broken.

  Maizy looked around. She was miles from anywhere. His horse was long gone. Rylan was too heavy to lift.

  A wild cry far overhead drew her eyes up to a soaring eagle. The isolation of this place tightened like a vise around her throat.

  Praying frantically for wisdom, she remembered her pinto on the far side of the river. There was a ford. She could get the mare here . . . if the grizzly hadn’t scared her into breaking her reins and racing for home.

  Maizy would have to go for the horse. Besides that grizzly, there were rattlesnakes. Buzzards might scent blood, with Rylan unconscious—Maizy shuddered to think of that. There were even wolves and cougars in the area. To get the mare, Maizy would have to leave Rylan utterly defenseless.

  She looked at his handsome face. He’d risked his life to save her. He’d abandoned a bull that cost a fortune and used every ounce of his strength to get her to safety.

  And now she needed to do as much for him. And to do that, she had to leave him lying here.

  No alternative came to her, so she jumped to her feet and ran.

  Maizy hurried to her mare in double time. She had worked with her pa plenty, and she knew how to treat a beat-up cowboy, although she’d never seen one quite this beaten before.

  When she got back to his side, Rylan lay still as death. His leg was almost certainly broken. Should she cut the boot off? The swelling had gotten so bad she was afraid he had no circulation, yet how much damage might she do removing the boot? Praying for wisdom beyond what she possessed, she decided to leave it, at least for now.

  She’d been thinking the whole time she fetched her horse. Now she tethered her horse and rushed toward the nearest slope, covered with quaking aspens.

  Feeling the minutes tick by and knowing that boot was strangling Rylan’s leg, she hacked down slender saplings with her sturdy, razor-sharp knife and returned to make a travois. Pa had taught her the way of it years
before.

  She used the lasso on her pommel to weave a triangular net between two trees. Once she was satisfied it would hold, she moved the contraption so the ends of the young trees were on either side of his head. Then, with a remaining stretch of rope, she tied a loop under Rylan’s arms, hooked him to her horse, and hoping he stayed unconscious, she pulled Rylan up the length of the travois with aching slowness. He was slim but tall with broad shoulders, made of solid muscle that made him heavy. It took some finagling to get him in place, but finally he lay fully on top of the makeshift travois.

  Then she lifted each side of the front ends of the travois and used a pigging string to hitch the ends to her stirrups.

  As she lashed the second aspen pole in place, Rylan groaned.

  Maizy rushed to his side.

  His blue eyes flickered open, but he stared through her, still dazed. She rested one hand on his shoulder.

  “Lie very still. I’m taking you home.”

  “Maizy.” Rylan spoke that one word, then passed out again.

  Because she was praying so hard when she felt a twist of fear about his leg, she decided it was God putting the notion in her head. She’d get the boot off while Rylan was unconscious.

  She slit the tough leather to the ankle until it was loose enough to be safe. She left it on to act as a splint. She swung astride her pinto and clucked to the well-trained horse. They set out slowly, crossing the boulder-strewn ground, trying to avoid bumps. Maizy turned on her saddle and watched Rylan nearly every second, only glancing ahead to check the terrain.

  He never stirred.

  Rylan had come to Pa’s house several times in the year since he moved in. There were no other ranches for miles and even their places were far apart. He’d never been friendly—to her. Though she had caught him looking at her a few times when he’d come by.

  Except for those occasional looks, she’d always had the impression he was avoiding her. And the fact that he was so attractive pinched hard.

  She’d done her best to ignore him, but she’d taken a liking to his herd of shining black Angus cattle. In fact she liked them a whole lot more than him.

  When he’d followed her home earlier that day and told her pa the bulls were dangerous, Rylan had looked at her in the eyes for the first time, forbidding Maizy from riding on his land. He’d also said a few words about a woman dressing in britches and running around the country alone. Said it was dangerous. But Maizy had worked hard alongside her pa on the ranch since she could sit a saddle. She could take care of herself.

  She was tough, but the handsome cowboy made her doubt herself. She liked not wearing dresses and fussing with her hair. She could cook well enough and she did chores in the house. But they rarely went to town since they lived over an hour away. When they did, she wore a dress, but she grumbled the whole time.

  And now, because she’d defied Rylan and had gone on his land again, he was lying here, unconscious. Most likely hurt badly enough to be laid up for a long time.

  How could she make this right?

  Time passed as she inched along. The sun dropped low in the sky. October had brought an end to the worst of the heat and turned the aspens golden and the waving grass to brittle yellow. As soon as she was within earshot of Rylan’s place, she pulled her six-gun, took a firm grip on her pinto so the mare wouldn’t startle, then shot into the air three times.

  Once the echoing gunfire was passed, Maizy shot three more rounds. She started on again. Only a few minutes had passed when Rawhide Engler came thundering toward her.

  “Run for the doctor,” Maizy hollered. “Your boss is hurt.”

  “On my way, Miss.” Rawhide turned and kicked his horse for town.

  Maizy rode slowly on toward the RC Ranch. Finally his place came into sight. He’d moved in to a log cabin built by the previous owners. There was a sturdy barn, a bunkhouse, and a corral. She reached the front door of the cabin and stopped. She knew Rylan ran a lean operation, but she didn’t know it was this lean. There were no more cowhands.

  Maizy swung a leg over her horse’s rump and dropped to the ground. She lashed the horse to the hitching post outside Rylan’s cabin and rushed back to check her patient. He lay, unmoving, on that stretcher.

  She looked at the cabin and had no idea how she’d get him in there. The horse was too big to drag him all the way in, even though the cabin was a nice size. She wasn’t strong enough to do it herself.

  It would be close to an hour on a galloping horse to get the doctor back here. The sun had finally dipped behind the nearest mountain and the night grew cool.

  High overhead, an owl swooped out of the nearby trees with a low cry, then vanished back into the forest.

  The pinto shifted its weight, and Maizy had a sudden vision of the horse bolting and dragging Rylan with him. The image felt so real, she decided to unhook the travois. First she guided the horse and dragged Rylan as close to the door as she could. Then she untied and eased the aspen poles from her stirrups to the ground, then led her horse back to the hitching post.

  Returning to Rylan’s side, she felt his left hand. It was cool. Maizy dashed into the cabin, almost stumbled when she saw what a jumbled mess it was, then shook her head and ducked into a back bedroom and grabbed a blanket. She returned to his side and wrapped it around him, then knelt there and said more than a few prayers for Rylan’s healing and for forgiveness.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “CARSTENS TOLD ME HE’S IN A MIGHTY BAD FIX.”

  Maizy’s stomach swooped. She’d been waiting for this. As they rode home together, she knew her time was up.

  “He’s conscious?”

  “Yep, finally.”

  Maizy braced herself for what Rylan had said about her. Pa had gone with her for the last three days to help work Rylan’s property. And Pa had been too busy, and Maizy too evasive, to get at the whole truth of Maizy’s part in Rylan’s injuries.

  She’d peeked in at Rylan every day but let Pa and the doctor see to his care. He’d come around a few times, but he was groggy and not making any sense. It was like a sword hanging over her head. The time had finally come when she’d have to face what she’d done.

  That they rode on in silence told Maizy it was bad.

  “I’ll put the horses up. You go on in the house. We need to have a serious talk.”

  Maizy waited, her dread growing as Pa took far too long to come back.

  When he came in, he swallowed hard before he said, “He told me what caused the accident.”

  Pa’s shoulders slumped, and for the first time Maizy realized how old he was. Pa wasn’t going to live forever. She’d been born in her parents’ old age. Ma had been near fifty, and she’d died when Maizy had just turned five years old. Pa was a bit older than Ma. They didn’t pay much attention to birthdays at the MacGregor Ranch, but Maizy was eighteen years old. That made Pa around seventy. He’d always seemed ageless. Until Maizy’s recklessness had nearly killed a man.

  “You didn’t exactly give me the whole of what happened, did you, girl?”

  Maizy was unable to look up from the toes of her battered boots. “I told you he saved me. I told you a bull and bear fight nearly caught me in the middle. Rylan got hurt protecting me.”

  “But you didn’t tell me you’d been on his land.” Pa’s mouth tightened in anger, and Maizy knew she shouldn’t defend herself. Pa had the right of it. “Just hours after he said you weren’t to come back.”

  “I had no intent to keep it from you. I just reckoned the time to talk about it was after we were sure he was going to be all right.”

  Pa said, “Carstens is hurting with every breath. He’s seeing double from that knock on the head.”

  Swallowing hard, Maizy waited for her pa to start yelling. She deserved this.

  “The doc won’t let him out of bed for weeks. It’s near to impossible for him to do for himself, and busted up bones don’t always heal straight. Rawhide’s been caring for him with me and Doc helping out, but, Maizy, I’ve got
to get back to working our place. And Rawhide is needed outside at the RC. Carstens has those Angus calves he’s been aiming to sell, and the sale is coming up. Everyone knows he stretched his money mighty thin to buy those black cattle. If he don’t get ’em sold this fall he might lose his spread. Your tomfoolery has done real harm this time.”

  “I’m so sorry, Pa.” Scuffing her boot on the wooden kitchen floor, she added, “I want to make it right.”

  She peeked up, hoping he understood how truly repentant she was.

  Frowning as if he’d never smile again, Pa said, “I’ve heard that from you too many times, girl. I reckon I can’t believe you, no matter how much I want to.”

  Pa wasn’t angry, he was sad. Ashamed of her. He sounded like a man who had given up.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means”—Pa dragged his battered Stetson off his head and looked at the floor as if he couldn’t face her—“I’ve been a bad influence on you, Maizy girl. I’ve been a bad pa, and it’s time I admitted it.”

  Gasping, Maizy flew to him and wrapped her arms around him. Pa stumbled back when she hit him. His hat went flying and he awkwardly returned the hug. They’d never done a lot of hugging.

  “You’ve been the best pa a girl could ever have. Don’t blame yourself. You’ve told me to settle down often enough. Well, now I’m going to.”

  He patted her on the back. “I’ve scolded you often enough, but I ’spect we both knew I didn’t really mean it.”

  Maizy had known. In fact, she’d counted on it.

  “I liked having you tag along with me on the ranch when you were just a sprout. I was hurtin’ bad from missing your ma, and I wanted you with me.” Then Pa took her by the shoulders and held her away from him. “And ever since you was half-grown, you did your share and part of mine. I’ve needed you. Truth be told, I doubt I could’ve made a go of this ranch without you. I’ve been a selfish old man who decided I didn’t have to live by any rules but my own, and that’s my sin.”