How to Lasso a Cowboy (13 page)

She must know that she was his future. The last few minutes they'd been together before the shouting started had left no doubt how he felt. She was his future, the only future he wanted. Why would she think she was in danger? Mary would be safe with his sisters and the other women.

Cooper didn't slow until he spotted the house. The pale moon offered him little help as he neared. He heard women's voices braided with laughter. He breathed for the first time since he'd turned the mare around.

Whatever frightened Mary had been only in her mind. He'd have to learn that about her if he planned to cherish her for the next fifty or so years. She was gentle and kind and intelligent, but not brave. He would be brave enough for them both.

Cooper grinned as he stepped onto the porch. If he'd wanted brave, bossy, and absentminded he would have looked for a woman like one of his sisters. But he wanted Mary, who needed him to take care of her and protect her and love her.

As he walked into the house his gaze searched for her. From now on he'd find her here when he got home, he thought. She'd be the one who had supper ready, who waited for him, who bore his children, who completed his life.

His house was, at present, full of every size and age of
woman. They circled in small groups, busy visiting. Mary wasn't among them.

Johanna walked by with a plate of rock-hard cookies made by one of the Williams girls. “Forget something?” she asked when he refused her offer.

“Still trying to pawn off those cookies?” Cooper barely glanced at her as he continued searching the room.

“I have to. I don't want to hurt poor Janice's feelings. Having to take a full plate home, when most of the other desserts are gone, would injure her. It is my duty as hostess.”

Cooper had no time for Johanna's endless social considerations. “Have you seen Mary?”

“No,” she answered as she slipped a few cookies into his jacket pocket. “Don't worry,” she whispered. “They won't crumble.”

“Did she leave?”

“Who?”

“Mary.”

“I don't know. Winnie asked me a few minutes ago about Miles. Maybe they went home, though I'd think they would have at least said good-bye. A simple ‘Thank you for the invitation' would have been appropriate.”

Cooper moved through the crowd, leaving Johanna talking. When he spotted Winnie, he mouthed one word. “Mary?”

Winnie shook her head and followed as he hurried out the kitchen door.

The old buggy Miles had managed to get to the dance was still pulled up beside the barn.

Cooper moved faster. He felt it now. Something was wrong. Mary hadn't been simply frightened. She'd tried to warn him. But of what? No one would bother the women. The men were well armed. All seemed secure, but suddenly fear chewed its way through Cooper's insides.

“Something's wrong,” Winnie whispered, her breathing coming out in a low whistle. “I haven't seen Miles since the other men left.”

They circled the house and headed toward the barn.
At the sound of Mary's voice just beyond the corral opening, Cooper froze.

Winnie slammed into his back, almost knocking him to the ground. He steadied himself and motioned for her to be quiet, though he found it hard to believe those ahead of them in the blackness couldn't hear Winnie's breathing. She'd run so hard, she sounded like a teakettle at full steam.

“What . . . is . . . it?” she said as she swallowed great gulps of air.

But Cooper wasn't there to answer her question. He'd already crossed the blackness and stood by the corral, his gun drawn. He could make out three figures circled by a lantern's low glow.

Miles's voice sounded deadly earnest. “I'll not allow you to harm my sister.”

“And what are you going to do?” the man with his back to Cooper asked. “Kill me?”

“If I have to. I've killed men before.”

Cooper watched as Miles stepped away from Mary and toward the man holding a huge knife. Mary backed into the shadows, her dark clothes blending her from sight.

“You see,” Miles sounded almost as if he were giving a lecture, “it's not all that hard to kill a man. Sometimes, in life, the true challenge is trying not to end a life.” He continued moving toward the knife pointed at his gut. “Sometimes you have to weigh one life against another.”

Still several feet away, Cooper pointed his weapon to the center of the stranger's back. If the armed man lunged toward Miles or Mary he'd be dead before he could do any damage with the knife. Cooper wished he were closer and could whisper to Mary that all was under control, but he wasn't even sure where she was in the shadows.

“Don't move,” a raspy voice whispered from just behind him as Cooper felt the barrel of a gun press against his side. “Let's just watch this play out without interrupting Len. I've heard he's an artist of sorts at his craft.”

Cooper didn't take his eyes off the man with the knife. He didn't need to see the stranger behind him. Cooper's
plan hadn't changed. He would fire if the knife moved and take his chances with whoever stood behind him.

A slight whistling sound rushed across the darkness. Len turned his head, listening.

Without any hint or warning, Miles jumped toward the knife. The blade sliced across his coat sleeve before he knocked it from Len's hand with expert ease. They struggled, but Len only fought when armed and wasn't prepared for the force of Miles's attack. Len's mistake was in fighting to retrieve the knife and not defending himself. The seasoned Yank won out, pinning Len to the ground.

Winnie rushed up, yelling, “He won't hit you. Miles swore he never would, even though he had special training in the war.” She leaned down, only a few inches from the stranger's face. “But I didn't promise anything.” She doubled up her fist and slammed it into Len's eye. “How dare you try to hurt folks!” Another punch pounded his nose. “Don't you know better than to threaten people with a knife!” She hit him again. “You could have killed the man I'm going to marry.”

Winnie paused in midstrike and turned to Miles. “Are you all right, dear?”

Miles laughed. “I'm fine. The blade only sliced my jacket.”

Winnie turned back to the stranger and let another blow fly. “That's his good suit!” she yelled. “You should be more careful.”

Len spit blood, struggled, and cried for help all at the same time, but Miles's good knee pinned him down.

Cooper would have joined the laughter, but a gun still dug into his side and he could sense frustration.

“Tell them to stop,” the raspy voice whispered, suddenly angry. “Or you're a dead man, Adams.”

Cooper didn't move. Like Miles, he'd been in enough battles to know to wait for just the right moment for action.

Mary's frightened voice came from somewhere behind Cooper. “Lower the gun, mister.”

Cooper felt the man hesitate. “You won't use that knife,
little lady. Just because you may have found Len's blade don't make you killer enough to use it.”

“Are you willing to bet your life on that?” Mary's voice shook.

When the stranger twisted to see Mary, he offered Cooper the chance he'd been waiting for. He swung around and flattened the man with one blow. The gun that had been digging into his ribs fired harmlessly into the night sky, bringing women and lanterns from the house.

Cooper straightened and turned in time to catch Mary flying into his arms. He held her against his heart. “It's all right, darlin'. It's over.” He felt her body trembling. “You may have saved my life, you know.”

He slid his hand along her arm, wanting to calm her. “That was very brave of you holding a knife on a man.”

As the handle to her weapon fell into his hand, she stammered, “It wasn't a knife, it's a pie server. Johanna insisted I carry it.”

Cooper laughed and held her close. His timid little Mary was far braver than he'd given her credit for being. “Don't tell Johanna what you used it for.”

“Oh, no. I'm not that brave.” Mary giggled in his ear.

Miles hauled Len onto the porch while Cooper half carried the other man. Within a few minutes they were tied up and waiting delivery when the county marshal returned. Winnie continued to pound on Len until Miles gently pulled her away, swearing he planned never to make her angry.

Despite all the women gathering around asking questions, Cooper managed to find Mary. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground, kissing her soundly. When he finally straightened and faced the crowd, Miles was staring at him. For a moment, Cooper wasn't sure what might happen, for he remembered Miles's warning to stay away from Mary. Then the Yank smiled and Cooper knew there would be no more battles to fight tonight.

Johanna's voice rose above all the noise. “A thank-you would be enough, Cooper. Or of course, since she may have saved your life, a handshake might be proper.”

He pulled an inch away and stared down at the face of the woman he would love for the rest of his life. “You didn't answer my question, Mary. Will you marry me?”

“More,” she whispered, brushing her lips over his.

She didn't have to ask twice. He'd propose again later; right now he had a promise to keep.

PATRICIA POTTER

 
HOME!

From the brow of the hill, Seth Sinclair looked down at the ranch nestled in the valley. A suffocating sensation in his throat took his breath away.

Four and a half years and a journey to hell since he had been there.

Anticipation replaced the deep exhaustion he felt from his six-month-long journey from a prison camp in the East. He had been ill and weakened from a fever, then had walked much of the way, stopping to work for food. He'd finally found a horse in nearly as bad shape as he'd been. The two had healed physically along the way, though he wondered whether his soul ever would.

At least the ranch was still there. So much of the South had been destroyed. Homes. Farms. Plantations. Ranches.

He continued to gaze below. He wanted to ride in. And yet . . . his heart ached as he remembered the day he'd ridden away to war with his two brothers. He was returning
alone. He didn't even know whether his father and last remaining brother knew of the deaths. Or his sister. She would be nearly seven now. She'd been only a babe in arms when he'd left.

He absorbed every detail. The house looked the worse for wear. Some of the fences were broken. But the old swing under the one giant cottonwood moved with the breeze. The barn and bunkhouse appeared intact. So much the same as he had remembered, except there was little movement. No bustle of cowhands riding in to change mounts.

Instead, it seemed as if all human presence had been removed. Maybe his brother and father were out tending cattle. Marilee would be with Trini, the family's housekeeper.

He urged his horse forward. He had written a letter about the deaths of Jason and Jared, the twins, but he had no idea whether his father had received it. It would break his heart.