One Brave Cowboy (10 page)

He looked into her eyes. “You don't know anything about the man who wants to see you again.”

“Yes, I do. I trust you, Cougar.”

“I don't. I have too many raw places, Celia.” He glanced at Mark, whose planes were lined up by size, and the smallest one was taxiing toward the end of the table. “I came here looking for a simple con
nection. I know horses. I
love
horses. These horses, there's still that wildness in them, but it's natural. The wildness in me is…” His eyes connected with hers again. Not the connection he'd been looking for, but the one he'd be hard-pressed to walk away from now. “I don't know what to do about it. I thought the horse could teach me.”

“Mary told me a little bit about the incident that put you in the hospital. Only the official report. She said the rest was up to you.” She laid her hand over the back of his. “I know you saved lives. How can you not trust a man who would risk his life for someone he didn't—”

“It wasn't like that.” He wasn't claiming any heroics, and he didn't want anyone else doing it in his behalf. “I didn't think about it. I acted. After something like that happens,
then
you get to thinkin' about it. There were other people in my truck. I don't know what would have happened if I'd just floored the damn thing like I was trained to do. Maybe what I really did was I set the guy off. I acted, and he reacted.”

“What do you think would have happened?”

“All the thinking I do now ain't worth…” He shook his head as he slid his hand out from under hers. “But I do it anyway. I think about it, and I dream about it, and here I am talking about it.” It was his turn to claim her hand. No sympathy. No seduction. “I just want to see you again. I want to
be a normal guy who meets a woman, likes her right away, she likes him and they can go on seeing each other and find out where it takes them.”

“If I make lasagna, will you have supper with us? Because I'm not going to make that recipe if I'm going to be eating leftovers for a week.”

“I'm gonna start on the deck tomorrow.” Mark looked up from his toys.
“We,”
Cougar amended. “My partner and I will get started tomorrow.”

A
fter the supper dishes were done, Cougar took a few measurements on the deck while Celia put Mark to bed. Through an open window he could hear her reading a story about an owl, which creeped him out some since having an owl stay near the house all night was a bad sign for an Indian, and telling owl stories might draw them in. An owl could hear a mouse step on a blade of grass. But he didn't give away his position. He just sat there and took it all in, much the way Mark did, waiting for the right time. Time for the owl to attack, time for Mark to…

He wasn't sure what Mark was waiting for. Perimeter security, maybe. He was staying inside until somebody secured the perimeter.

Security was Cougar's specialty. Hell, he'd been an MP for ten years. Protect and defend.
We take care of our own.
He could do that, no problem. He'd thought about looking for a job as a cop. They'd want to train him a little differently, and they'd find him to be a quick study.

But his medical records would be a quick study, too. Combat-related disability. Most people didn't know what to make of post-traumatic stress disorder. Was it safe to be around him? He didn't know for sure. He'd scared himself a few times. Heavy-duty meds had become part of the problem, so he was weaning himself off, trying to clear the cobwebs, and he was almost there. But the dreams were back. And the dreams were deadly.

“That didn't take long,” Celia announced as she emerged from the house. “He was tired. You must've kept him busy while I was gone. Or was it the other way around?”

“We're a team.” Down on one knee, Cougar dropped the tape measure into his toolbox and closed the lid. “We have a connection. It's hard to explain, but…” He stared out into the night, toward the corral. “The horse is in on it, too. The connection. The therapy program I was in…” Damn. Nobody was asking for an explanation. He needed to take a cue from Mark and keep his damn mouth shut. He flipped the latch on the toolbox. “You know, they used horses.”

She was quiet. He stood up, tucked his hands in
his back pockets, felt a little awkward. Fits and starts, he thought. He wasn't a big talker, but when he was with Celia, it was easy to
start
saying whatever was on his mind, which didn't really
fit
with who he was, where he was or what he was doing there. But it felt okay until his mind caught up with his mouth.

Don't go there. Not now.

“I couldn't find anything like that for Mark,” she said finally. “But I've read a lot about therapy with animals, especially horses, and I know that volunteering at the sanctuary has helped us both.” She held her hand out to him. “Walk with me?”

Her hand felt small and cool in his. She set the pace for slow and the course for meandering. A warm breeze discouraged mosquitoes, and the enormous sky provided enough starlight and moonlight to cast across their path the shadowy shape of a couple joined at the hip and sliding along the grass.

“You think he'll wake up and be scared?” Cougar asked.

“He'll sleep soundly. If he gets up, it's usually not until two or three o'clock in the morning.”

“Yeah, that's about the right time for a nightmare.” They were wandering in the direction of the corral. “You said there's no physical reason for him not to be able to hear.”

“That's what the doctors say. They've done all kinds of testing.”

“I'm gonna go out on a limb and tell you he heard
me when I asked him to come up with a name for the horse.”

She stopped and turned to him. “Are you sure?”

“He had to. He wasn't watching me, couldn't have read my lips. And that's not the only time.” He cradled her hand in both of his. “He's protecting himself, Celia.”

“From me?”

“I don't know what's in his mind. I know I've got some scary stuff in mine.”

“That could be part of the connection between you.” She sighed. “But I have some of that, too. Not the real pain, but the…” She covered her stomach with her free hand. “Phantom pain, I guess.”

Cougar nodded. “He doesn't have much connection with his father.”

“His father thinks Mark is a potential cash cow.” She groaned. “That sounds awful.”

“He stopped by here today. He doesn't like me much, and the feeling is mutual. I get the feeling he's looking for ammunition he can fire off at you, and I look like a possibility.”

“What did he want?”

“Said he had some news for you.”

She sighed. “It's always about that damn lawsuit. You know how long those things can drag on? If it wasn't for that, he'd leave us alone.”

“You're not on board with it?”

“I'm not going to sit around counting chickens.
Mark's medical needs are covered, along with any therapy or training or special needs relating to his injuries. If anything comes of these other claims, the lawyer will get a big chunk of it.”

“The man doesn't think you should leave Mark with me.” He drew her hand around the back of his waist, put his arm around her shoulders, and started them moving again. “You don't know me well enough.”

“Where have I heard that before?” She gave his waist a quick squeeze. “My only worry is that I might be taking advantage of you. Not that I would ask you to…”

“You didn't. I offered. Mark…”

“…wanted to stay with you today. I know a lot about you, Cougar.” She looked up at him, offering a moonlit smile. “Except your name. I'm pretty sure there's more to it.”

He returned her smile by half. “Cougar isn't enough for you?”

They'd reached the corral, where Flyboy stood hipshot, probably wondering why he wasn't walking around in the grass with his new herd.

Celia turned to Cougar. “Not when there's more to it. I want the whole story.”

“Why?” He traced the curve of her chin with his thumb. “Take my word, it ain't gonna get any better than Cougar.”

“Be careful. I don't take words lightly.” But she
took his hips lightly in her hands, tucking her thumbs in his belt. “That was a pretty big deal, wasn't it? For the horse to follow Mark the way he did?”

“It was beautiful, but don't weigh it or measure it. Just take it to heart.”

“Mark spoke to him, didn't he? Somehow they spoke to each other.”

He reached for her hands as though he were drawing six-shooters from his holsters. But rather than aim and shoot, he lifted each one in turn to his lips. “I don't want my being here to bring any trouble down on you.”

“You're not… You mean from Greg? No.” She squeezed his hands. “No, he can't…” She shook her head. “No. We're past that.”

“Sounds like there's more to the story.”

She released his hands, and he turned toward the corral, leaned back against the pickup, separating himself but standing right beside her. Her sentry.

She drew breath, as though she were about to go under for a while, but she let it out quickly, and she spoke quietly.

“I used to think jealousy was a sign of…I don't know, love, I guess. I took it lightly. It was high school stuff, kind of sweet. But then we had Mark, and we weren't kids anymore. We were both supposed to be parents.” She gave a dry chuckle. “Greg was jealous.”

“Of Mark?”

“Of anybody that wasn't Greg. He was always suspicious, always checking up on me. We tried to fix things. I mean…well, we got some counseling.” She shook her head. “After Mark's accident, there was nothing left. Mark needed attention, and Greg couldn't deal with any of it. But he couldn't leave us alone, either. Especially after he got started on
his son's lawsuit
.” She looked up at him. “I'm sorry for…if he said anything insulting. I want you to stay, Cougar, but I'll certainly understand…”

“He's not gonna run me off.”

“Good.”

“I don't wanna get into it with him, so I'll try to steer clear. But if you need me, you say the word.”

“What word would that be?”

“Cougar.” He toyed with a wisp of her hair escaped from the clip that had the rest trapped. “Just don't use it lightly.”

“Are you a lethal weapon?”

“I can be.” His finger lifted the strand of hair, traced the curve of her ear and, joined by three more fingers, made a path toward the back of her head. “But I'm learning how to turn it down a notch.”

“A notch below lethal?”

“I just need more practice.” He smiled as he released the clip and sprang her hair loose.

“The word is
Cougar
.”

He turned to her again, sank his fingers into her hair and held her head in his hands, took his time
parting his lips as she prepared for him by moistening hers. His mouth hovered until he felt her breath on his face, and he drew it in quickly, touching his tongue to her lower lip as she lifted herself to him. He claimed his kiss fully, held her head, rubbed her hair between his fingers, pressed his hips close, but not tight. Not yet. He was well below lethal. Plenty of room to maneuver.

He backed off, kissed her softly, flirted with her tongue, let his hands drift over her shoulders, his thumb brush her nape and discover the down that must have covered her head when she was a baby.

“Cougar,” she whispered, and this time the sound of his name borne on her breath sent a shock wave deep into his belly.

“Careful.” He shifted his legs apart, gathered her close, kissed her just beneath her ear and whispered in a way meant to warm her and make her shiver in the same instant. “Careful, careful.”

“I don't say it lightly.”

“Yes, you do.” He slipped his hands under her T-shirt and slid them up her back. From the small of her back to her shoulder blades, nothing but soft skin over firm muscle. She put her arms around his neck, and his thumbs brushed the outer fullness of her breasts. “You make it float,” he whispered into her hair.

She turned her face to him, nuzzled his ear, nipped his lobe and made a soft, sweet sound deep
in her throat when his thumbs edged close to her nipples. He rocked his hips against hers. Damn, his jeans were getting tight. She took the lead on the next kiss, slipped him some tongue and took his hungrily when her turn came. Her nipples had beaded up even before he touched them.

He rested his forehead on hers and fought to contain himself long enough to ask, “Do you want to go inside?”

“No.” She buried her fingers in his hair. “Because I can't take you with me.”

“My camper is closer.”

“I can't.” But she kissed him as though she could, and then she said, “Step by step, Cougar. You're making
me
float.”

“I've barely started.”

“I know.” She hugged his neck and whispered in his ear. “Not so fast, cowboy.”

 

Celia and Mark stood at the end of their dirt road under the puffy blue and red umbrella of a morning sky. During the school year Mark rode to school with Celia, and she'd been leery of letting him ride the bus to summer school, but the program director had urged her to give it a try. The first few times had been a little iffy—not for Mark as much as for Celia—but now she felt good about putting him on the bus. He was stretching out those baby steps, and
she was keeping hands off, feet still, eyes on her precious prize.

The bus door folded open, and the driver greeted them with his usual report. “We're finally gonna get some rain today, looks like.”

“We'll see,” said aide Vicky Long Soldier, appearing at the top of the steps. “Merle makes the same prediction every day. He's bound to get it right eventually.” She descended the steps slightly sideways, owing to sore knees and extra pounds. She'd assisted in special education through a parade of teachers with younger knees and impressive degrees, and she was still going strong. “Right, Mark? Are you ready to go on a field trip today?”

Mark looked up at his mother.
Do I have to go?

“There'll be plenty of time for you to work with Cougar when you get back. He'll have Flyboy ready and waiting.”
Show me you understand. Give me a sign.

“You have a cougar and a flyboy?” Vicky extended her hand to Mark. “I can't wait to see what that's all about.” She glanced at Celia. “He might write something about it. I know he'll draw me something.”

Flashing a smile over his shoulder, Mark took Vicky's hand. He was suddenly fine with something that was happening. Maybe something he'd heard. Celia glanced at the always magnificent, ever intimidating sky. Change was in the air.

“Call me if he needs me to come get him.” Celia gave a wan smile. “For any reason.”

“He's doing good. We're going to see alpacas and llamas today.”

“We visited that farm once. Mark loved it. They also raise rabbits.” She remembered Mark's reluctance to surrender the baby bunny he'd been allowed to hold, and she reached out impulsively. “Don't let him—”

“Don't worry,” Vicky called out as she slid into the seat behind the driver. “Nobody rides a llama without a helmet.”

Celia smiled as she watched the bus head back down the road. She had a feeling Mark was on the verge of a breakthrough. Granted, it wasn't a new feeling, but it was gaining strength. Mark was going to be okay.

And Celia was finding her way. For a woman whose carefully planned household had unraveled quickly once the first thread was pulled, she'd been feeling pretty good lately about boldly choosing the road less traveled and sticking to the path. Even when Greg had shown up, she reminded herself that she was there first. And when Cougar had shown up, she'd had no expectations, and she'd discovered that surprises could be pleasant. Waking up in the morning to the sound of demolition didn't seem so great at first, but when she looked at the clock, she'd been
grateful for the wake-up call, along with the sound of a man keeping his promise.