The Rancher (17 page)

Her mind engaged in battle between thetwo men who occupied her thoughts. Alaric’s promises had filled her withhope for a future that now could never be. And Cole.

He jumped in the mire, for me.

A fresh chill sent shivers down her

spine.   The rain finally abated and the moon peeked out from behind an onslaught of blackened clouds.   She knew she should be heading back.  Her father would be worried and she now had to face

her...husband.  That thought stung like a slap in the face. Why would Alaric do this to her?   Why would he send someone else?  She wasn’t sure she even wanted the answers.

“Why now?” she screamed into the

cold.

Abby looked up into the night sky.  Shehugged her knees more tightly into herbody.  There was still a ranch to be run,horses to breed, and fences to be mended.  Papa couldn’t send her away now.  She’dwon. She’d found a husband. So, whydidn’t winning feel as good as she’dthought it would?

Her thoughts turned to the man she hadjust given up her life for, the man withwhom she had promised before God tolove.

“Please, Father,” she pleaded, “tell me what you expect me to do now.”

Pieces of her conversation with Mrs. Hutchinson flooded her mind. “If he is

anything like his father, he is a good man,” she’d said.  “But remember, even good men make bad decisions from time to

time.”

“Ab… by?”

Her name drifted on the wind, muted

and low.

She strained he ears to the sound.  Hermind must be playing with her.

“Abby McCallister?”

She heard her name again, but this timeis was more distinct. She sat up, trying tofocus her attention to the noise.  However,the sound that greeted her was all toofamiliar and not at all welcome.

A lone timber wolf called out in thenight, howling in the stillness betweendownpours.   Although   she   wasaccustomed to the melodious call of the

wild, tonight it sounded a little too close for her comfort.  She felt the folds of her dress for her pistol and realized she had left it in the hidden pocket inside her father’s old coat.  She’d been in such a

hurry when she left the church, she’d neglected to grab the coat and now she cursed herself for thinking like a female.

“Ab… by?”

There it was again, the beckoning voice getting louder, stronger.

Someone approached on horseback and she strained her eyes to see. The large, angular silhouette in the distance became more defined and visible as it got closer.

“Cole?”   she   whispered   with unexpected hope to the night.  He would take her home to SilverHawk, to the safety of her own room, her own bed.

Their bed. Startled at the thought, she fought a whole new set of fears that threatened to waylay her.

She forced the thought from her head.  Her arms crossed her chest and her hands

frantically rubbed her upper arms and shoulders as she tried to generate some warmth.

A gunshot split the night and Abby bolted upright.

“Abby?  Abby McCallister Redbourne can you hear me?” his voice became more insistent, urgent.

Abby McCallister Redbourne
 
.   That was different.

“I’m here.  In the tree.”  The wind all but muted her response.

Cole came into full view a short distance from where she now stood.

“Listen to me, Abby.  Stay where you are no matter what happens.   Do you understand me?”

His horse seemed restless, swervingleft and then right, but not movingforward.

“Why?  What’s wrong?”

Bella snorted and started to pranceabout excitedly below. Abby leanedforward to look over the crude railing ofthe tree hut.

“Do you understand?”  His voice wasmore urgent this time.

Abby felt her irritation growing and shetook two steps to the other side of the

railing to get a better look at her darkened surroundings.   A low deep snarl came from beneath her and just a few paces away she saw two glowing, yellow eyes skulking at the base of the tree, glinting in the moonlight.

“No.   Get away from here.”   She desperately looked about for something that would deter or frighten the ominous mountain lion that crouched low on the ground, ready to pounce.   Abby was thankful she was up in the tree, but had heard plenty of stories about the enormous cat’s ability to climb.  A dead branch lay brittle, just out of her reach.

“If I could just...” She swung her legs over the railing and reached for the branch, her nails just able to scratch at the knotted wood. Securing a place for her

foot, she inched herself higher on the supporting bough.  Again she reached for the impromptu weapon.   Her fingertips grazed the sharp grooves of the branch and she extended her arm even farther until her

hand was securely wrapped around its

thickness.

Crack.

The tip of the large bough on which shestood gave way and she felt her footingsrelent beneath her.  As she grasped foranything within reach to support her, thebranch broke and the ground started tocome up quickly to meet her.  A new waveof fear washed over her.

She stopped abruptly.  A lower levelbranch had caught the excess material ofher gown at the waist and left her danglingin midair.

The lion, crouching back on hishaunches, his tail twitching and ears laidback, began pumping his hind legs gentlyup and down.  With his head and bodylow to the ground he opened his mouth ina frightening roar, revealing a copse ofsharp yellowed teeth and a curled tongue.  Abby looked around at her immediatesurroundings for anything that would giveher leverage against the predatory animal.

Bella’s scream sounded in her ears and

Abby watched anxiously as her trustedhorse reared below her.  Her front legsscraped the air until one connected withthe mountain cat, sending it sprawlingbackward.

Snap.

Her wooden rescuer faltered. A fearful

shriek escaped her lips, but was brought

short as her arm hooked painfully onto another protruding branch.   She reached for the limb with her free hand and kicked out in a desperate attempt to gain her footing.  The branch, wet from the rain, became harder to hold on to.  She prayed silently the mountain lion had run away.

A lone shot fired, creating a moment’s peace in a scene of chaos.  Abby glanced up, relived to see Cole, rifle in hand, riding quickly toward her.

A ferocious roar echoed in Abby’s ears and she looked down as the mountain lion

jumped from his crouched position at her horse.   “No,” she screamed wildly, desperately   trying   to   dissuade   the aggressor, she reached down gingerly and removed one of her work boots and threw

it at the animal.  Her fingers slipped.

Abby shrieked and shut her eyes.  Before she hit the ground, arms, as hard asrock, enveloped her about the waist,pulling her from the air and onto a movinghorse in one large protective motion.  Thewind was knocked from her chest and shefelt like a rag doll being tossed about. When she gained her breath, she openedher eyes to see her rescuer.  Cole.

He pulled her in front of him, facinghim, but did not release his grasp on herwaist.  He pulled her tight into him.

“Hold on,” came his abrupt command.

Bella’s fierce scream at her attacker

focused Abby’s thoughts.  She lifted her head above Cole’s shoulder to see the

mountain lion savagely assaulting her

beloved companion.

“Stop,” she shouted at Cole.  “Please

stop.”   She pounded at his chest.   The thought of losing something else tonight was too much to bear, but she knew hysterics would not convince him to turn back. Calming herself with a deep breath, she reached to his clean shaven face, placing a hand on each side, and pulled his face about to look at her. In a much softer voice she pleaded, “Please, Mr. Redbourne, I can’t let Bella die—not like this.”

With   one   smooth   movement   hedislodged his rifle from its holster andpulled his horse about.   A single shotechoed in the night.  Bella fell forwardatop the cat.  Stricken with horror Abbypushed against him.

“You’ve killed her!”  She tried to getoff the horse, but Cole held her still.

“Stay,” he ordered once again.

Cole dismounted, gun still in hand, and strode toward the brutal scene.  Another shot rang out and Abby closed her eyes to the tears that once again threatened to come and she fell forward over the ridden-worn saddle.  She could hear Cole

speaking in hushed tones.

Her head throbbed, she was cold, and she would now have to go home and face her father with news of her mother’s

beloved mare.   She wondered how she would tell her father Bella was gone.  How she would tell him it was all her

fault and he’d been right all along.  She should’ve agreed to leave for Denver.  Bella wouldn’t be dead.

“Tell me Lord, what do I do next?  Please give me the strength to endure and

the wisdom to act accordingly,” she quoted a sermon Reverend Daniels had offered last month.

A quiet nicker carried through the breeze and she abruptly pulled herself upward to see Bella limping toward her, Cole leading her back.   Abby’s eyes darted from the feline carcass that now lay in a motionless heap at the base of the tree, to the bloody gashes in the mare’s front leg and chest, then to Cole.

She could not help but to appreciate the wide expanse of his chest as it strained against the white collared shirt he wore.  His tall muscular frame would normally have intimidated her, but tonight she appreciated the strength of this man she did not yet know.  She was thankful for his self-assurance and accurate aim and

grateful for the time they would have to get to know each other as they worked the ranch.

“This belong to you?” He averted her appraising glance and held out a drenched and shredded boot, nodding at her bare foot.

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks as

she reached for the boot.

Cole wrapped the reins of the mare

around the saddle horn of his horse.

Abby’s focus returned to Bella.   Shepulled on the old work boot, though achunk was missing from the top, exposingher flesh on the top of her foot, and deepgouges nearly divided the sole in half,making it all but worthless.   Ignoring Cole’s raised eyebrow, she swung herselfdown from the saddle.

Carefully, she began caressing themare’s uninjured flank, gently working herway over the horse.  When she reached theopen wound on the horse’s chest and frontforearm, Abby saw the deep slashes thathad scraped away Bella’s muscular flesh.  She felt a fresh rush of warm tears

brimming in gratitude the horse was still alive, but she refused to let them spill.  She reached up and put her arms around the horse’s neck and laid her head against the mare, blinking away any evidence of tears.

“She’s favoring her leg, Abby. It may be broken and her chest has been torn in several places. It’s just not right to make her suffer.”  The use of her first name felt natural and oddly intimate.

Cole stood directly behind her.   She

could feel his nearness.  Her heart began to beat wildly. Fully understanding the meaning of his words, she pushed her face away from the horse, but did not remove either hand from the mare.

“I am grateful for all you have done here, Mr. Redbourne, but I assure you, Bella will be all right.  She’s a fighter.”  Abby stood to her full height and when she spun around to face Cole, she realized she barely met his shoulder.

“Doc Knight is the best in the territory,” she continued, trying to convince herself.  She lifted her chin a little, “And it just so happens, he is doing some work for my father at my ranch...our ranch,” she corrected quietly, looking down at her hands, now covered in blood.

Cole studied her for a moment.  Shaking

his head, he removed his jacket, took the suspenders off of his shoulders and began unbuttoning his shirt.

“What are you doing?  It is freezing out here,” she protested.

As he began tearing at the fabric, she realized he intended to try to help Bella.  Once the shirt had been torn into haphazard strips, he reached for a thick branch that had fallen in the storm.  Kneeling down near Bella’s damaged front leg and with remarkable calm and skill, Cole picked up one of the tree house’s floor boards that had come loose

in her fall to splint the horse’s leg and began to bandage the open wounds.

She   watched,   mesmerized   as   he worked, and was a little unnerved at the sight of his bare shoulders and back.

Fascinated, she watched his musclesstrain against his skin, undulating withevery movement.   He moved to theuninjured leg and placed a bandage tightlyaround the thigh and knee areas forsupport. The strain that would be causedto her good leg by the faulty appendagemight prove to be too much.  Abby wasimpressed by his apparent knowledge ofhorses.  Maybe this deal would work outafter all.

Without looking at her, Cole swungonto his horse and pulled his suspendersup over his shoulders. He reached downfor her--extending his hand.