Rocky Mountain Widow (Historical) (16 page)

“Nope. Or are you going to head straight home instead?” she asked over her shoulder as she lifted the looped end of the lead off the saddle horn. “Come on, guys. It's so good to have you home.”

“You're just gonna walk away and leave a poor fellow like me in the cold?”

“I offered you my hearth.”

“There is no greater gift than when a woman gives a man her hearth.”

Her laughter came like the gentle pulse of bells, silvering the beautiful sound. One he'd never heard before and his entire being turned to the sound of it, to the rise and fall of music sweeter than any he'd ever heard.

Emotion crashed through him like a flash flood,
sucking him under, taking him along with the powerful current. Helpless to stop it, he accepted the inevitable like a man. The inevitable he could not hide from.

Moonlight chose that moment to find her. To guild the curve of her face and cradle the jut of her chin as she smiled. His heart was gone, forever lost to this woman who seemed unaware of how easily she'd rendered him helpless. Rendered him in love.

“If it's my hearth you're after, you're welcome to it. Temporarily.” She continued on with a conversation he could no longer remember.

Frozen in place, he tried to pretend he hadn't been dumbstruck by her. What had they been talking about? That's right, he thought, he remembered. Heart. Hearth. “Temporarily, huh? I can't have your hearth forever?”

“Nope. I've learned it's wise for a girl to keep her own hearth. Men aren't the most consistent creatures.”

“You've got that right. Not faithful or decent, either. Look at me.”

“Exactly my point.” The laughter starred her eyes, and like a bright light burning, he could not look away from the beauty of it.

From her beauty. He was a damn fool, he saw it now, for scorning his buddies who fell, every single one of them, just like this. Joshua had always thought a man could stand strong and tough and no woman could render him defenseless.

He'd never been more wrong. Kissing her hadn't gotten her out of his blood. Steeling his will against wanting her hadn't made a whit of difference. Keeping away from her and filling his mind with other things—
ranching and family duties—hadn't derailed this steaming longing for her. His insides twisted so hard it took his breath away.

Until now, he'd never
felt
. Never knew a single emotion would bring keen, physical pain. And make the world so rich in beauty. The moonlight seared his eyes, the platinum shine seemed suddenly to brighten until his eyes teared. Until every sheen and surface, every inch of ground and tree beamed as if the thousands upon thousands of stars had fallen onto the ground at her feet.

And in the center of it was her, floating as if on light, as if this magical evening had enchanted her, too.

“Look at how bony my boys are. Why wouldn't they take care of them? I realize—” she talked while she worked “—that the Hamiltons couldn't very well drive my horses where anyone would recognize them. Logan's their friend, but stealing is stealing and it's against the law. This is horrible. They couldn't have hoped to sell them.”

He tried to clear the emotion wadded in his windpipe. Failed.

“How could they have gotten full value when the horses look like this? It makes no sense.” She sounded more than disgusted, more than angry.

“What doesn't make sense to you?” He dismounted in the yawning mouth of the doorway.

“That there would be any excuse for this. I know, I shouldn't be surprised. I lived with Ham. I saw how he treated his animals. I know how he treated me. He thought he was infinitely more important than anyone or anything else. And that others were only there for his
benefit, his gain.” She disappeared into the tack room, leaving him alone and his chest feeling as if it had been ripped wide-open by a merciless bear.

I love her.
His soul wrenched, but it was sweet agony as he walked more deeply into the barn, bringing the horses with him. Stormy and Thor greeted General and Loki with snuffles and snorts and low-throated neighs.

The moment
she
appeared in the aisle, the horses swung to watch her. The moonlight pried through the cracks in the high walls to crown her with brightness. Overcome, he stumbled because it seemed as if his feet couldn't find the ground.

The air he breathed filled him with the tang of snow and stardust, the whisper of the wind clearer, like words from a loved one mumbled in the dark, secret hours after midnight. Heat pumped through his veins, not naked lust, but something stronger, greater.

He was forever changed as he bent to the task of unsaddling the horses, no longer the stoic he had always prided himself on being.

It took all his hard-earned discipline not to gawk at her as she swept close, the trousers she wore accenting the feminine curve of her hips and thighs. He needed all his willpower to force his gaze from her alluring beauty—from the beauty he wanted to touch and stroke with his hands and know by memory—and heft the saddle off General's back.

“I'll rub him down,” she said, shaking out a soft and sweet-smelling towel.

So close, his skin gooseflesh. His spirit swelled with longing. Love blazed within the most secret pulse of his
heart. She was the blood in his veins, the air in his lungs, and the beat of his soul. He could not control it, he could not stop it, and he knew it didn't matter that he wanted to turn his back and ride away. To stop this fast and fatal fall.

“Joshua.”

He turned, the saddle on his shoulder, his heart on his sleeve.

“You said you're here helping me because it's the right thing to do.” There was no mistaking the honest regard that lit her up as if from inside. “You stand pretty tall, in my view. I just wanted you to know that.”

His throat ached and he was lost over what in the hell to say. If he was going down, then there was no better way to fall.

S
ometimes a man has to do what is right, whether it's in his best interest or not.

Joshua's words had stayed with her ever since he'd said them on that night, which now seemed so long ago. Everything was different from those hopeless days. And it was all because of the man who worked silently and capably at her side. Who pumped water and measured out grain and forked crisp, sweet hay into the mangers. Who took the horses from her, rubbed and cooled, and led them with a firm hand and a soothing voice.

A voice that made her want to dream.

To believe.

When she led poor nervous Loki into his corner stall next to his brother's, the gentle giant gave a low-throated gasp, an eerily human sound. As if being bedded down in his own stall soft with thick straw and topped with a layer of hay was too good to be true.

Bones sawed against his dull coat as he ambled straight to his trough. Thor whipped his head over the
top bars separating the two stalls and watched with a big brother's contentment, as if glad—finally—all was right with their world.

“General's restless.” Joshua stroked the fine gelding's glossy neck. “Wolves must be nearby. Let's get this place locked up tight before we head for the house.”

“My thoughts exactly.” That was sort of a lie—she hadn't been thinking about wolves. She'd been thinking about him. “I'll do the hayloft.”

This left him to check on the only other way into the small barn—the back doors. She hurried up the ladder with relief…and felt bereft. As if being away from him was a loss. She did her best to ignore that sensation as she verified that the thick wooden shutters in the loft were locked tight.

Everything was snug and safe. There was no possibility that a wolf could get in here…even if one managed to hop onto the sloping roof. Certain her boys were safe, she climbed back down the ladder and Joshua surprised her by cupping her elbows and swinging her down the last few steps to the ground. Her entire being buzzed as if she'd spontaneously burst into flame.

“If you're worried about what the Hamiltons are gonna do when they find out these horses are back in your stable, don't.” As if completely unaware of what he'd done to her, he loped a few steps toward the front door and then stopped when he realized she wasn't beside him. He turned patiently, waiting. “My brothers and I intend to pay them all a visit. Remind 'em that just because the law can be bought in certain parts of this county doesn't mean that justice won't be served if necessary.”

She felt engulfed in a blinding fire that licked through the deepest parts of her. She swallowed hard, struggling to sound normal, to focus on what mattered.

Men were violent creatures. Read between the lines of what he'd said. While she was grateful for his protection, even the noble Joshua Gable was violent. He was made to protect, to defend his own, to fight and win. The rock-solid build of him, the way his iron muscles shaped his thick layers of winter clothing, making him seem even more undefeatable, even more formidable.

She knew the tenderness of his kiss…but she did not want to know the dark side, which showed as his eyes shone, like a warrior's death promise.

Maybe it was better to send him away. “I can defend my own.”

“That's why I'm here. To make sure you can and will.”

Did he have to say the one thing to disarm her? She wanted to think he was a wolf in sheep's clothing. To believe he was just as capable of violence as the Hamiltons, and in the same vein of it. And yet her heart wouldn't let her take that step. Couldn't. He reached out and tucked her hand in his larger one, sheltering her from the bitter winds. He kept one hand on her arm to steady her in case she slipped. But the snow cushioned her feet and the only thing in danger of falling was her heart.

Falling more in love with him.

“The wind sure is kickin' up.” He dug his shoulder against the door frame. “Would you mind if I come in and bum a few hot potatoes from you? It's gonna be a long, cruel ride home.”

“It's tempting to make you suffer through it, but I guess I owe you at least a baked potato.”
Stop bantering with him!
She unlocked the door and led the way into the cold, still dwelling. Frigid pewter light stained the floor and dusted the furniture with a polished glow. Claire stumbled, although she could see well enough. Joshua kept having that effect on her.

“I appreciate it.” He stomped the snow off his boots before he followed her inside. He shouldered the door shut and hunkered down on the hearth, stirring the banked coals before she could finish lighting the closest lamp. Taking over as if he had the right. Just like a man.

She shook out the match and laid it carefully in the tray. Maybe it was simply the ghosted memory of Ham she saw, of how he'd hitch down before the hearth and take over the tending of the fire, criticizing her all the while. Trying to bait her into arguing with him so he could have the excuse to fight with her.

Joshua was opposite to Ham in everything. But it gave the back of her neck an odd tingle. She left him to rebuild the fire as she hurried through the shadowy kitchen and saw a reflection in the uncovered window. Black fiendish eyes stared back at her for half of a second and a gasp strangled in her throat. She didn't know if she made any sound at all, but Joshua was there, his pistol cocked and aiming at the void of glass.

The image was gone. “It was nothing. A wolf.”

“Not the Hamiltons?”

“No.”

“You sure? How about the sheriff?”

“No, no.” She gripped the back of the closest chair.
“I know it's ridiculous. The wolves have been here every night. I don't know why they startled me tonight.”

“Oh, maybe because you know there might be trouble.” He lowered his weapon, lowered the hammer and holstered it. “The wolves are still prowling?”

“I can handle it.” He'd done enough. More than enough. And there was no mistaking him for Ham's ghost or memory as Joshua Gable pulled out the chair, tugged her by the wrists and guided her into the cushioned seat. “You've had quite a night. I'll get you some tea for a change.”

“What? Do you even know how to steep tea?”

“You've met my granny. Do you think she'd put up with useless grandsons?” He snatched the match tin and knelt to light the stove. “You did real good tonight. Most women would have never gotten their feet cold.”

“Those were my horses. Joshua, I am so grateful to have them back. Those men…those boys, that's what they are, I'd like to make them pay if I could. They had no right. Animals depend on us for their care. Thor and Loki didn't deserve to go hungry. Or be out in these temperatures.”

“Most women would have offered to pay to get their horses back. That's what I meant. Or, well, offer more.”

“And you are mentioning that because…?”

“Don't worry, I'm not hinting I expect more than a polite word of thanks.” He knelt, feeling his face heat even as ice crackled on the stove's handle. “I meant it's my experience that most women these days like to stay indoors at leisure and let the men do all the dirty, hard work.”

“Leisure? That's how I spend my days. After I order about my house servant, I like to nap in the parlor.”

“Some women. I guess that's one thing I like about you.”

“You like me?” she blurted, as if that surprised her.

“Yeah, I like you.” Liar, his conscience upbraided him. But what good would come from telling the truth? He had his life. He had his duty to his family, and as the oldest son, he'd had to take his father's place when Pa died. And he could not walk away because he wanted. Want was too weak a word. His desire for her went beyond desire, beyond lust, beyond any bond of affection he'd known before.

Overwhelmed, he cleared the aching emotion from his throat and lit the fire. Kindling sparked and snapped with a merry brightness and cadence that belied everything he was feeling. He didn't feel cheerful. He didn't feel hopeful.

He felt that everything within him was breaking. All his defenses. All his beliefs. All his resolve. And he felt far too exposed, as if he'd taken off every strip of clothing and stood naked in the unforgiving night. Knowing he'd freeze to death and knowing there was nothing he could do.

“What's not to like about you, pretty lady?”

“I guess I never wondered how you felt about me.” Because I'm too busy trying to rationalize how I feel about you. She unwound her muffler the rest of the way and hung it over the nearest chair back. “I mean, you're so busy being a knight errant, a defender of widows and a Robin Hood of horse thieves, I know you must not have the time.”

“How much time does a thought take?” He hiked off
his hat and tossed it across the room. His Stetson hooked a peg on the coat tree and swung into place. “I can do two things at once. Hang up my hat. Think nice things about one of the few women I actually respect. I couldn't believe how you were tonight. As calm as a seasoned lawman. It was cold and it was uncomfortable and climbing up that hill was hard work, and you didn't complain once. You even knew how to use snowshoes.”

“It's how I get to the barn to do my chores in the winter.”

“Your chores?” He glanced around the cabin, clean and tidy and, now, cozy. It was a real nice little place with womanly touches to soften the rust wood walls. Did she have barn work, too?

“I took care of the animals.” She said it with serenity, as if there was nothing wrong about that or unusual. “What? Why are you shaking your head?”

“Didn't Ham do the barn work? And in winter?” He yanked the damper wide a little too roughly. Hell, he couldn't help it. What kind of man left the outside work to a lady? It was hard physical labor, not to mention hotter than blazes in summer and, in winter, the temperature could freeze the mercury. That was no way for a man to treat his wife. “My mother never stepped foot inside the stable, unless it was to wait for her team, which one of us was already hitchin' up for her.”

“From what I've heard about your family, your mother is a proper lady. A bank owner's wife.”

“Ranching was Pa's hobby. He loved it. He inherited the bank, so he was obligated to do his best by his father. Duty. The state of the oldest son.”

“You didn't want to run your family's ranch?”

“Nope. I wanted to run the bank, but Pa's little brother does that. So I have the ranch.” And if he had regrets about that, what good did it do him to give them a moment of time? None. Some things were a given and no force on earth was going to change them. He was in charge of his family's extensive land and livestock holdings and he'd do his damnedest. “How about you? You're gonna be the next laundry lady in Bluebonnet County. That can't be what you always figured you'd wind up bein'.”

“No one's more surprised than I am.”

“Betsy's had good luck with it. She's made a decent living. It's hard work, though.”

“I'm not afraid of hard work. It's what I know.”

Yeah, if she was used to doing barn work. Joshua didn't know if it was rage or sympathy he felt, but it raged within him like a blizzard's leading wind. Howling through him until he felt like crushing steel with his bare hands. “You worried about driving so far alone?”

“Betsy said she's had no real problems. A bear once, she said, when she was delivering up north in the mountains, but I won't have to worry about that.”

Joshua's face darkened. “No. That's the bastard she's marrying.”

“Betsy mentioned you didn't like him.”

“Like him? I hate him. He's marrying her to take advantage of her and she doesn't see it.” True agony creased his features as he turned away. He said nothing more as he spotted the teakettle and lifted it. Water
sloshed inside so he set it on the stove and crossed to the front room where the fire had devoured the kindling.

Claire unbuttoned her coat, trying to make sense of the ax blade of pain that wedged deep into her heart. It wasn't her pain. It wasn't her agony. But she hurt just as fiercely as the man kneeling at her hearth. Back straight, shoulders set, head bowed. With his reverent posture, it was strange to think of this man vulnerable and hurting. “I have worried about Betsy, too. She's making a mistake,” Claire said.

“Hell, yes. Nobody seems to see it. Granny and I, we've tried to make her see. Mama's indulgent, she always lets Bets have her way. But marriage once done is until death. It's a mistake that cannot be made right. I don't want her hurt. I don't want her heart broken when she realizes this man who has no job is hoping to get his hands on her inheritance.”

“I suppose your family's land is very valuable. That is one advantage to being relatively, well, poorer than most. No one will marry me for my inheritance. Although, my former in-laws are convinced you're interested in my quarter section of grazing land.”

“A rancher is always looking to increase his holdings, but any man who would want your land more than you is someone who doesn't deserve you.”

She twisted onto her feet because she'd forgotten to put on the potatoes, spinning toward the stove and out of his sight. But the potatoes weren't why she had retreated from his sight. She didn't want him to know how much his words had meant.

Why was it when she didn't believe she could think
more of this man, he went and did something more, something that made her love him even more? When she didn't want to love him at all?

She could hear him in the front room. The clang of the poker, the thud of wood in the bin, the stir of ashes and the creak of the armchair. It never occurred to her that a man would know anything about lost dreams. Joshua had wanted to work in the town bank?

Countless times she'd been inside the fashionable brick-and-stone building, of course. She'd never given much thought to who owned it, and she didn't know Joshua's uncle had inherited it. Nor would she have ever guessed that Joshua, a man as suited to the rugged high country as the jutting rise of the Rockies to the west, would want to work behind a desk. Managing people and money with the same stoic commitment that he ran his brothers, his ranch and handled his livestock.