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Authors: Caroline Fyffe

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BOOK: West Winds of Wyoming
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“Hee-yah!” she screamed. “Hee-yah, hee-yah!”

Like liquid buffeted with the curved edge of a bowl, the herd swung away from the cliff in a gentle arc. It was a moment she’d never forget. The wind in her face. The scrabble and screeching on the shale torturing her ears. The edge of the cliff just inches away, where the rocky earth, a hundred feet below, waited for its next victim.

They’d done it! The horses were turned! Galloping back toward the correct route to the corral.
Thank you
, she found herself thinking.
Thank you, thank you. Thank you, God, for sparing our lives.

A pebble kicked up by one of the horses in front flew into Nell’s face. She jerked at the pain and wiped at the blood dripping into her eyes, all the while never taking her sight from the direction they galloped. A quick scan of the animals told her that, from what she could tell, all the horses had turned. Now she had to get them back to the trail and into Jake’s hands. She pulled up on her brave mount, giving him a few strides to catch his breath. Reaching down, she patted his hot, sweat-soaked neck, feeling the stickiness through her leather glove. “Good boy, Coyote. Good boy.”

Charlie loped into the box canyon knowing full well he’d be the only one there. A buckboard filled with hay was parked in the area, delivered several days ago, judging by the age of the tracks. Charlie’s heart rippled with fear for Nell. He’d seen her valiant effort. Anyone else would’ve forsaken the horses and saved themselves. But not Nell. She gave her all and then some. He couldn’t believe his eyes as she’d ridden so close to the front and come so darn close to going over. He’d held his breath and prayed for all he was worth.

At the water trough on the outside of the pen, he gave the black a short drink, then went over and checked on the packhorse Gabe had tethered inside at the back of the corral.

With everything in its place, Charlie rode back a quarter mile and waited.

The long, low rumble that preceded the horses came sooner than he’d expected. They arrived still loping, but not very fast. Sweat covered their coats. He cracked his whip and hollered at the top of his lungs. Tired now, they turned quite handily into the box canyon as some slowed to a trot. Their sides heaved and their eyes were dull with exhaustion. He caught sight of Gabe, and then Jake, still pushing from behind. Searching around, he didn’t see Nell. The three men drove the horses into the corral. Gabe rode into the fray of excited mustangs and made for the back side of the corral to retrieve the packhorse and bring him out, while Jake and Charlie dismounted and swung the gates closed. When Gabe reached them, they opened up and let him out.

Jake and Gabe grinned from ear to ear.

“Either of you see Nell?”

“I did when I picked up my leg,” Jake said. “Why? You think something happened to her?”

Charlie didn’t have the energy to explain everything right now. “No. Just wondering.” He scanned the entry of the canyon. A whoosh of relief gave way when Nell came up the bottleneck on foot, leading Coyote, with Dog at her heels. “Here she comes.” He strode out to meet her. As he got closer he could see a streak of blood on her temple and down her cheek. She took a handkerchief from her pocket and pressed it to her forehead.

When they were within shouting distance, she called out to him. “Charlie?”

She obviously didn’t understand why he was walking out to meet her. Questions crossed her eyes like clouds moving over the sun as she searched for answers. There was no way for her to know he had to see her face. Touch her skin. Prove to himself that she was indeed alive and she wasn’t a mirage conjured up by the longing in his heart.

“Charlie?” she said again. “What’s wrong? The horses are in the corral. What?”

He didn’t say a single thing, just pulled her into his arms and crushed his lips to hers. Staked claim to her mouth, her heart. Instantly she responded, surprising him. This was different from their first kiss in the kitchen. That had been soft and inquisitive. This was hard, and perhaps a little angry. The picture of her almost going over the cliff unleashed his passion and terrified him at the same time. Hungry for her, he moved from her lips and kissed her neck, then made his way up to her ear. He loved the way she felt in his arms. “I can’t live without you, Nell,” he murmured. He could never marry Brenna when it was Nell he loved, when she was the woman who fueled his blood.

She pushed on his chest until he gave her enough room to lean back and see into his face. She reached up and traced his lips with the tips of her fingers. “Charlie,” she whispered. “What’s gotten into you, cowboy? Did you fall off and thump your head or something?” Her hungry, desire-filled gaze stoked his fire.

“You could’ve been killed. And after you promised you wouldn’t take any unnecessary chances. I should have known better than to trust you with your life.”

“How did you know?”

“I saw the whole thing from the top of the ridge. You scared the life out of me.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her again until they both were breathing hard.

Nell finally pushed away and a wobbly smile moved her lips. She reached over and placed her hand on Coyote’s drooping neck. “I’d do the same again.”

Taking a step back, he laced his fingers through hers, warmth filling him at the picture of their entwined hands. “Yeah, I know you would. That’s what terrifies me.” He gently pushed the hair from off her forehead so he could see the slice half the size of a dime directly above her left eyebrow.

“It’s nothing,” she said as she started for the corral, dragging him with her since their hands were still together. He tugged her to a stop far enough away from Gabe and Jake that the two couldn’t hear their conversation. Both young men still gaped openmouthed, probably flabbergasted from the kiss and entwined hands.

“I have to go,” he said.

Her brow fell. “Why?”

“Something you mentioned last night. It’s bothered me ever since and I need to get to town to check on something.”

“Check on something?” The light that danced in her eyes went out. “Don’t you mean
someone
?”

Does she know about Maddie?
He thought about their conversations and realized he’d said more last night than he’d wanted. And the way she sensed so much with animals, it wouldn’t be difficult for her to put the puzzle together. That had to be it. “Yes. Then you understand why that someone means everything to me. I’ll take the packhorse since he’s fresh.” He started for the corral again but glanced over his shoulder when she didn’t reply, noting the straight hard line of her mouth that only moments before had been soft and kissable.

Was his fatherly protectiveness over Maddie that hard to understand? Was she jealous of a child? Confused, he wondered if he’d made a mistake. He thought she cared for him, but maybe she only wanted something fleeting.

He unsaddled the black and put his rig on the packhorse. Jake and Gabe wandered over, their faces still flushed with color. “What’re you doing?” Gabe asked.

“I have some business in town that won’t keep. I’ll stop by the ranch and let Seth know we’ve arrived. I’m sure he’ll be up as soon as he gathers some grub to bring along.”

Jake crossed his arms over his chest, probably perturbed at being abandoned. “Yeah, well tell him to send a lot. We’re hungry. Some steaks will fill the bill right fine. Bread, coffee, a pie or two.”

“Or three,” Gabe pitched in.

Charlie nodded. Finished with saddling, he slipped his boot into the stirrup and swung abroad his new mount. “I’ll tell him.” Nell still stood where he’d left her, the look on her face saying she never cared if she saw him again.

He didn’t understand women at all. No, sir, not one little bit.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

B
efore going to Brenna’s home to put this sham to rest, Charlie stopped by the sheriff’s office. If he had to be watching his back trail from this day forward, then he could use some help doing it.

He poked his head through the door. Thom Donovan sat at the desk flipping through some papers. “You have a minute, deputy?”

“Sure. I’m just going through wanted posters. We get so many it’s difficult to keep up with them.” He gestured to the potbelly stove in the corner of the room. “Help yourself. The pot was fresh about three hours ago.” He chuckled. “And don’t mind Ivan. He takes up position in front of the stove and stays there all day, if I let him.”

Charlie hadn’t had a cup of coffee for a day and a half. “Thanks.” He stepped over the dog and poured a mug of the thick brew. This would stand the hair on the back of his neck. He took a long guzzle, liking the way the dark liquid heated him all the way down to his belly. He walked behind the desk and gazed at the posters over Donovan’s shoulder.

“Tandy Smith,” Charlie said under his breath. He took another drink of his coffee. “Not much of a name for a bank robber—but a darn good bounty on his head. Eight hundred dollars.”

“Don’t let the name fool you.” Thom pointed to the small print under the picture. “Says he has an unknown partner. They’ve successfully pulled off countless robberies and are also wanted for seven counts of murder. Not quite as notorious as that that scoundrel Jesse James. Albert and I sure heaved a sigh of relief last April when we read the news.” Thom shook his head. “Killed by a member of his own gang.”

The deputy pushed the posters aside. “Well, enough of that. What brings you to the office, Charlie? Last I knew you and Nell and the boys were up in the hills rounding up horses. Were you successful?”

The pit of his stomach dropped at the mention of Nell’s name. He didn’t know what was up with her. “Yeah. Brought the horses in this morning, actually.” He could see the wheels turning in the deputy’s head, wondering what was so important to bring Charlie all the way into town.

“And?”

“I have a history. Just wanted to let you and Sheriff Preston know in case it shows up here in Logan Meadows.”

“Go on.”

“I’m from New Mexico. Got into a scuffle there and a boy got hurt. By now he may be dead.”

Thom listened intently.

“In the Wilsonville saloon someone shoved me and Dan Galante spilled his whiskey down the front of his shirt. When everyone laughed he got furious. He was drunk. Challenged me to a gunfight. When I couldn’t talk him down, I tried to walk out. Galante drew. If the bartender hadn’t yelled, he would have shot me in the back. I fired, intent on winging him, but he dove and the bullet caught him in the gut. A seventeen-year-old kid.” Charlie gazed at the ceiling for several long moments. “I was cleared by the law, but the boy’s father was adamant he’d get even with me. Infection set in, making recovery long and hard. And like I said, he may now be dead. Galante gave me this scar when I tried to talk sense into him.” He pointed to his cheek. “I thought it best if I cut my ties and moved on. I’m no killer, and I don’t want to become one. But I’ll defend myself”—
and what’s mine
—“if I have to.”

The deputy pushed back his chair and stood, heading for the coffeepot. He refilled his cup. “You have reason to believe you’ve been trailed?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the name of this fellow?”

“Grover Galante. But he could’ve hired someone. He had the means. That rider Nell saw on the ridge at the ranch wasn’t the first. I just learned there had been another stranger out there before I showed up. I believe he was looking for me.”

BOOK: West Winds of Wyoming
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