One Brave Cowboy (7 page)

“I know where I don't wanna be tonight,” Cougar said, picking up on the question she'd asked earlier. He jerked his chin toward the Wolf Tracks as they sidestepped out of view. “And that's camping out in their backyard. She's home on a three-day pass.”

“I have a huge yard,” she offered, sounding more eager than she'd intended. “Is that all you need? I have electricity and running water, too. And an old barn.” Eagerness shamelessly amplified, she thought. “And most of a corral. It's only missing a few pieces.”

He grinned. “Are you offering me a place to park?”

“A place to camp.” She lifted one shoulder. “At least as long as Mary's home. I'm sure you'll want to go back to their place to work on your program.”

“For sure. Gotta work my program.”

“But it looks as though the honeymoon is still on.” The couple had danced back into view on the far side of the circle. “It's really no trouble.”

“I'll pay you,” he said.

“I'll take that offer as acceptance of mine. No strings attached.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the silhouette of their tree. “I don't know about where you come from, but we don't charge for parking in these parts. One thing we have in South Dakota is plenty of parking space.”

“Just because I let you kiss me doesn't mean I'm looking for favors.”

She turned back with a mock scowl. “
Let
me—”

“I don't mind paying in services. So what can I do you for?”

“How good are you with tools?”

“I'm a man. I know tools. What do you need?”

“What
don't
I need? I bought a fixer-upper and a few acres of pasture in an estate sale. The farm land was sold separately, and nobody wanted the home place. Nobody but me. But there's more to this fixing up business than I thought.”

“Now we're on the same side. No confusion. We both know what's on the table.” He offered his hand. “You got yourself a deal.”

D
ust billowing around the truck made it hard to see where he was going, but he couldn't slow down now. If he did, something bad would happen. There were people out there, faces looming in the dust clouds, but they didn't matter as long as they stayed clear of the truck. He had to get to a place where he wasn't eating dirt every time he tried to take a breath or say a word.

Sand.

The place was made of sand. Grittier than Wyoming dust, sharper sting in the eye, bigger clog in the nose, worse threat to the throat. He was fine with faces. He could fire back at bullets. Sand was the enemy. Hot wind and godawful sand.

Suddenly one fiend sucked the other up, and the faces were unveiled. Unreadable eyes, most of them, all but the children. He slowed down for the children. They were dancing, whirling like the wind, arms outstretched like little airplanes, eyes bright.

Eyes right.
Right side of the road, right here right now, pedestrians have the right of way. Right foot, Cougar, brake right.

Don't stop for anything, Sergeant. That kid's coming for us. You slow down, he takes us out. Do. Not. Stop.

Cougar sat up screaming. Shaking, shooting out of the sandbox like a bottle rocket and screaming to beat hell. He knocked the blind off the window and hit his head on the ceiling above the trailer's loft bed. He was in for a killing headache.

Headaches don't kill people. People kill people.

Head noise killed sleep. Cougar couldn't remember his last full night of quiet sleep. The first part of the night almost wasn't worth the last part, but a guy had to take what he could get. Otherwise the hole got deeper and the walls felt tighter.

He went to his medicine chest and sorted through his options. He kept them all handy these days. Pills, packaged injections, a pint of whiskey, a pack of cigarettes. He'd used them all. He wanted to be free of them all. “It's a process,” the doctors kept telling him. And banging his head against the wall—ceiling, whatever—was part of it.

He grabbed two bottles—pills and booze—pulled his boots on, burst out the side door and into the vast and velvety night. He set the bottles side by side on top of a fencepost and backed away. Maybe the fresh air would do it. Maybe all he needed was wide open spaces and a chill chaser. He went back for the pint, uncapped it, drew a long, deep breath full of whiskey fumes and capped it back up again.

“Are you okay?”

Cougar spun on his heel, crouching like a Hollywood gunfighter.

Celia squared up, looking surprised, like he'd been the one who'd just sneaked up on her. He straightened slowly. His reaction was nothing to be embarrassed about. Hell, he was glad to know that getting himself locked away by the white coats hadn't dulled his reflexes too much. As long as he wasn't looking for anything sharp or loaded, he was doing fine.

“I'm sorry,” she said quickly. She was clutching a small, fringed blanket around her shoulders, and her legs were bare.

He gave a dry chuckle. “What for? Catching me in the act?”

“Of…”

He gestured with the bottle. “I have orders to stay away from this stuff.”

“Orders from whom?” She tipped her head to one side, as though she'd just asked whether he'd rather have a glass of warm milk.

“
Whom?
I like that. Whom. It sounds proper.” He studied the bottle. “Dr. Choi, that's
whom.
”

“Which isn't proper, but we won't get into that. You sounded…” She swished through the dry grass toward the fencepost, but she paid no attention to the pills. Instead she peered into the deepest part of the cricket-filled night. “I ran into a badger out here one night. Scared me half to death.”

“Did he come after you?”

“He ran one way, and I ran the other.” She turned to him, one hand spread over her chest holding the blanket in place. Moonlight washed over her worried face. “Do you mind if I ask why Dr. Choi gave you those orders?”

He nodded toward the pill bottle, poised on the post like a shooting target. “He wants me to take those. He says they'll mix it up with the spirits.”

“You mean you're not supposed to mix the medication with spirits?”

“Is that the proper word for booze? Spirits?” He laughed and shook his head. “I don't mind if you ask. You should ask. I'm sleeping in your backyard, and you've got a kid to protect. Not to mention…” He scanned her makeshift cloak, neck to knees, and his imagination shifted into high gear. “Sorry I woke you up.”

“You didn't. I was sitting outside.” She shrugged. “I heard you, um…”

“Friggin' embarrassing as hell.”
Sitting outside?
Right. He glanced at the sky. It must have been three in the morning. “I scared you.”

“A little. Only because…” She was staring at the bottle in his hand. “It sounded like you were in terrible pain.”

“Just a dream.” He set the pint back on the fence and stood back. “I don't like taking the pills. They feed the spirits they're supposed to fight off.”

“The things that go bump in the night?”

He chuckled as he plowed his fingers though his thick hair. “Yeah, my damn head. I can't get used to that low ceiling.”

“Mark has nightmares, too. He crawls in bed with me sometimes, and the only way I know he's crying is that his face is wet.”

Cougar froze. Instantly the scene played out in his mind. Screaming, crying, cussing, head-banging—a kid doubled over in terror and none of these outlets were available to him.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. No shirt, but he'd had the presence of mind to keep his jeans on. “You think he hears anything in his dreams?”

“That's a good question.” She let the blanket slip as she linked her arm with his. T-shirt and shorts. No bra. His arm was tucked against the side of her breast. “Come sit with me. I can't sleep now, either.”

“I could sure sleep if I picked a poison.” But he let her lead the way, which was not in poison's direction.

“What woke you up, Cougar? Was there some kind of noise? In your dream, I mean.”

“Not exactly. It's hard to tell. Hell, it was a dream.”

“If I knew what was going on in Mark's head, maybe I could…” With her free hand she flipped the blanket over her shoulder. “Logan's book is all about understanding what goes on in a horse's head. They can't tell you in words, so you have to pay attention to other signs, other language.” Her tone dropped from instructional to personal. “I know what happened, but I didn't actually see it happen.”

“Neither did the guy who did it.”

“No, he didn't. The poor man, he was devastated. He came to the hospital and just sat there, waiting. He ended up losing his job. There was no warning, no signs, no barriers, but that was the contractor's fault. No one actually saw what happened. Everyone heard him scream.”

“You hear it in your dreams?”

She nodded.

“Hey. I'm sorry. Last thing I wanna do is go diggin' around in somebody else's dreams. I know the sound of…” They'd reached the house. He planted a boot on the first rickety step of two leading to the ground-level deck. It squeaked and sagged but didn't crack. He surveyed the deck and noticed crude patches in the planking. “…worn-out wood. Ready to retire.”

“I've made some temporary repairs.” She pointed
to a glider at the far edge of the deck. “That part's pretty sturdy. I covered some holes, and then started replacing planks.”

“It won't take much to fix up one of those pens so I can get started with the mustang. You want me to start on the deck after that? Or do you have something more important that needs doing?” He glanced left and right. “I don't see a swing.”

“A swing would be…” She laughed. “Swings can be dangerous. Come try this glider out.” She sat down beside him, mentioned the night chill as she tossed the blanket across their laps and pulled her side up to her shoulders. “I don't have many tools, but there's lots of good lumber in the barn. It came with the property. I think I need some sort of an electric saw.”

“You did this much with just a handsaw?”

“I found pieces that fit. I looked at saws once, but I couldn't find one that wouldn't cut fingers.”

“Did you try the toy department?” With no thought of making a move he reached under the blanket and drew her legs onto his lap. Her feet stuck out, rubber flip-flops dangling off her polish-tipped toes, and her skin felt smooth and cool. “You might as well be walking barefoot on a bed of nails.”

“What do you mean? These shoes have great soles.”

He groaned. “That's cute, but this is hay needle
and prickly pear country. You don't know what you'll run into in the dark.”

“When I came outside I wasn't planning to leave the deck.” She leaned back for a double take. “You do realize that, don't you?”

“Yeah, but you did. It would've been smarter not to.”

“I suppose. But I don't feel stupid.” She laughed. “Okay, maybe about the footwear.”

He ran his hand over the top of her leg until he reached cloth. “What's this?”

“Pajama shorts,” she said in a clipped tone, as though any idiot would know. And then she groaned. “Yes, they're pajamas, but they're also shorts. I'm not running around naked, and I'm not trying to…”

“Seduce me?” He laughed. “It wouldn't take much.” His hand retreated to her knee. “I'm just saying you could get hurt. You heard somebody in trouble, and you came running. You don't know what kind of trouble you'll find.”

“I know you wouldn't hurt me,” she said quietly.

“I wouldn't want to.” He lifted his arm over her head and pushed against the deck with his booted foot. The glider creaked as he set it in motion. “I'd rather rock you gently.”

“A swinger and a rocker.” She laid her head on his bare shoulder. “Aren't you cold?”

“I woke up in a sweat. The night air is just what the doctor ordered.”

“Dr. Choi?”

The question was loaded, and his instinct was to duck. But he let it rest with him for a moment, testing it out. It was heavy, but coming from Celia, it didn't feel like a threat. She'd stuck her neck out saying she believed she was safe with him, and she deserved answers since he was parked in her backyard.

“I got hit in an explosion,” he said quietly. “I was lucky. I didn't lose any limbs. Had a little head damage, but it could've been a lot worse.” He tipped his head back and drank in more night air. “I won't lie to you, Celia, I was a mess when I came home. When I came
back.
I don't know about home.”

“Things had changed?”

“No. Not much. I mean, I thought so at first, but then I realized that life had gone on exactly the way people had been living it before I left. What was I expecting?”

“You felt like a stranger?”

“I was. But it was me. My problem. I felt betrayed, but the truth is, I didn't wanna be with people who'd known me before. I didn't know who I'd become, but I knew I couldn't be that person again. So they were right to move on.” He glanced at her and smiled. “And that's a whole lot more than I ever told Dr. Choi.”

“It's the glider. It's like a watch on a chain.” She
mimicked the motion with her hand. “Watch the watch.”

“That's the one thing they didn't try on me.” He tipped his head back again and kept rocking. “What a night,” he said. The moon had disappeared, and there was nothing overhead but an infinite black canvas stippled with stars. There was no yard light, no city, no town, nothing throwing man-made competition up against natural gems. “You know, there are a lot of people who have never seen the Milky Way? Never.”

“They see it in Afghanistan, don't they?”

“Oh, yeah. It's almost as pretty as this. Unless you're wearing night vision goggles that turn everything glow-in-the-dark green. Which is fun if you're into video games. You line up a target, you score a hit, you rack up the points. Points, people, whatever. The bad guys.” He glanced at her. “The people over there are tribal.”

She smiled. “So are yours.”

“Shh. Don't tell anybody.” He looked up again, still rocking, his hand stirring over her smooth skin. Two strangers in a strange land, he thought. Somehow they were able to cut through the chaos and see each other clearly. “What a night,” he said again.

“Shooting star!” She pointed to a ribbon of fire streaking across the sky. “Did you make a wish?”

He shook his head. “It's a gift. Halfway around the world you see something like that, it clears your head.” He smiled against the night. “
Look at me,
it
says.
I'm going down in a blaze of glory.
And everybody gets the same gift. You don't have to fight over it.”

“Even so, a girl can wish.”

“If it has anything to do with this deck, I can tear it out and replace it in a day or two, depending on what's under there for footings.” He ran his hand along her shin and closed it around her slender ankle and gave a playful shake. “If it's as flimsy as these shoes…”

“Stop knocking my shoes.” Laughing, she started to pull away, but he held on until she looked up. “You don't scare me, Cougar.”

“That makes one of us,” he said as he lowered his head and went in for a kiss.

He knew he was hungry for the taste of her, but he thought he could sate himself with just that—a taste. Even if he couldn't, he would make do, maybe take a little more, a touch of the tongue, a nip of the lip. He drew breath from her breath as he slid his hand up slowly, stretching his fingers to accommodate the widening of her thigh, feeling every fine hair, sensing her excitement. He paused when he encountered clothing, deepened his kiss and let his fingers slide farther until he felt the catch in her breath, and then he stayed his hand as he kissed her through the moment.