The Rancher (18 page)

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Authors: Kelli Ann Morgan

BOOK: The Rancher
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“There is a small lean-to just throughthat thicket and an empty worn down barnwhere she will be safe.   I am sure the

owner won’t mind if we borrow them for

the night,” he said as he wrapped his hand around her wrist and braced his forearm

against hers.

Her pulse quickened as she pulled up

behind him.  “I’m afraid I don’t know the

new owners here.  I’ve been told they are very wealthy and have purchased a great deal of the land in the territory, but they keep mostly to themselves.  No one has met them yet. I don’t know how they would feel if...”

“It’s cold and wet.” Cole turned in the saddle and wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. “It’ll do for now.  Your horse

won’t live through the night Abby, especially if we force her to make the trip all the way back to the SilverHawk tonight.  Maverick here certainly cannot carry the both of us and pull her along

behind.

“I’ll walk,” she quickly offered.

“It’s no use, Abby.  This is the best we

can do under the circumstances. I think

with the splint she’ll be able to support herself as far as that barn.”

Abby couldn’t argue.   The cuts on Bella’s foreleg and chest were very serious and she did not want to risk doing any further damage.  She nodded her head and although he could not see her, he must have known she’d relent because he clicked his tongue and his horse began to move forward.

“Wait,” she spoke into his ear.  “If it’s really not that far, I’d like to walk alongside her.”

Cole looked down at her foot, nearly bare because of a now useless boot.

“Fine,” she spat and thrust her hands around his waist in defeat.  Resting her face against his bare shoulder she watched Bella struggling to keep up.  Even at this slow pace, she stumbled, faltering with each step on her damaged leg.

“Thank you,” she whispered and she snuggled even further into the added warmth Cole’s jacket provided.

Lord, help me be strong.

Chapter Nine

Cole could barely make out the oddshape of the lean-to jutting away from theside of the barn. Grateful he and Rainehad taken the time to clean the small one-

room  shack,   he  prodded   Maverick forward slow and steady.

He’d had no idea how long he would have to stay at the McCallister place and had wanted to make sure he was prepared for the worst. The miniature cabin-like structure should have served solely as a bunkhouse for the two brothers while the farm house was built.  But somehow, it didn’t seem fitting for a wedding night.

Expecting cool evenings, the small pot-

bellied stove had been fixed against the center back wall of the small room.

Having Abby’s wet body pressed soclosely against him was taking its toll onhis inner strength and he was grateful shewould now have something other than hisbody to make her warm.

Focus, Cole
, he chastised, remindinghimself that feeling protective was onlynatural.  She
 
was
 
a woman after all and hewas attracted to her without a doubt. But

how could he ever love a woman whose father had killed his best friend?  Then it

dawned on him.  She was a McCallister

too.  Could she have had something to do with it?  He dismissed the idea, but until he knew for certain, it was better to keep his distance.

Cole looked toward the barn and shook

his head.  It had not received the same attention.  While Raine had stocked it with

straw, hay, and a few other supplies, the doors hung crookedly and the paint was chipped and faded.  He dismounted and with two short strides reached the barn doors.

Any trace of the herd was gone. Martyhad   already   taken   them   out   to McCallister’s place as planned.  He’d justbeen fired from the SilverHawk asforeman, so he felt no pressure to get outto their ranch anytime soon. Except Claywould probably be worried sick about hisdaughter.

One fat droplet of rain landed on Cole’scheek and he craned his neck to look at Abby, still leaning against the back of hisshoulders.

She would catch her death if he didn’tget her inside soon. When he brought hishorse to a stop, Abby sat upright.  Coleswung down and reached up for her.

Abby unwrapped Bella’s reins from thesaddle   horn  and   slid   easily  from Maverick’s back.  Cole was prepared forher legs to buckle once they hit solidground and stood ready to catch her if shefell.  She wavered slightly, but caught herfootings   immediately.   Inexplicablydisappointed, he ushered the two horsesand Abby inside the barn.

Fresh straw was stacked in one corner

and with a pitchfork Cole placed a layer of bedding in the newly swept stall to create a comfortable place for the mare to lie down.  He directed Abby to lead Bella into the newly prepared compartment.

He glimpsed a large wooden bucketdangling from one of the broken stalldoors.  “Wait here,” he commanded in avoice that dared her to disobey.  Seeing nodefiance he turned on his heel and out the

door.

If she had just listened to me
, he thought, begrudging his trek to the creek, the rain falling heavily once again.
 
But why would she?  She doesn’t know me or anything about me.

He filled the bucket to the brim with water from the near over-flowing creek.  Although the rain fell quite dramatically, the wind had died to a mere breeze and Cole was careful on his way to the lean-to not to lose any of the water he’d collected.  He would not know the extent

of the horse’s wounds until they had been

cleaned thoroughly.  He poured the water into the kettle that sat just behind the door and set the bucket aside.  He hoped he would be able to find some wood in the

pile dry enough to burn.

God smiled down on him at that

moment and within minutes he had a fire

roaring.   It was getting colder as the evening progressed into night and he put his hands up to the heat emanating from the small stove.  He spotted one of his wool lined coats hanging from a nail next to the door and reached up for it.   While the lean-to would be toasty, the barn would still be very cold.  He pulled it on and stuck his hands in his pockets.

The water began to boil and with a thick cooking pad he reached for the bucket.  The steam rising from the wooden

container felt good to Cole as he breathed it in.  As he moved to the door, bucket in hand, he tripped over the old washtub by the side of Raine’s mattress.  His balance

was thrown off and he worked quickly to restore his footings.

A small splash of water landed at the edge of Raine’s mattress and Cole cursed under his breath.  Now Abby would have to sleep on his mattress instead of Raine’s.  At least he was no stranger to sleeping on the hard ground.  He walked out the door and kicked it shut behind him.

When Cole made it to the barn, he stoodat the entry and watched as Abbycrouched down near the pained animaland  began  humming.  She  workedcarefully to remove Cole’s provisionalbandages from the chest and damaged

limb of her horse.  The first had not been bandaged tightly because of its awkward location.  The gentleness he saw in her both delighted and impressed him.

Abby’s  hair  was  dark  and  still encrusted with mud, her white dress ruined and dirty.   However, the wet garment clung to her, enhancing every curve. Cole nearly dropped the pail and he quickly set it down.  He turned around abruptly and walked back out the door.

Cole was used to seeing women in tight corsets whose waists were pinched so tightly he could wrap them in the breadth of one hand.  He was grateful she was not one of those women.  His desire to pull her close to him and feel her waist and hips beneath his hands enticed him.  He knew he needed to redirect his thoughts or

this would turn out to be a very long night.

With one last, deep breath of the fresh air tickling his throat, he returned to the barn.  Raine’s black mending bag sat next to Abby in the straw.

“Lucky,” she said without looking up, “whoever owns this place must have had to doctor some horses of his own.  This bag has most everything we’ll need to patch her up.”

“Abby,” Cole cleared his throat.

She looked up from her task.

“You are soaked through.   There’s a fire burning in the lean-to and a dry blanket rolled up in the corner.  Go.  I will take care of her.”

“I won’t leave her.”

He noted the dark circles now forming

under her eyes and the stiffness in her

fingers as she worked.

“Now!”   His tone left no room for

disagreement.

She stood grudgingly, brushing past him, and with an obvious air of defiance, clipped him in the arm with her shoulder.

Cole smirked.   The woman certainly had spirit and he had to admire that in her.   She was stronger than any woman he’d ever known, except his mother and sister, who also had strength in spades.

Tonight, it would just be him and Abby. Alone in that cozy little room.  He knew he should try to get word to Raine, but he refused  to   leave  Abby  alone   and suspected she would not leave that horse.

He thought how different things would have been had this day gone as planned.  After he was able to drag the preacher

down the mountain, he and Raine had made a checklist of everything his mother would have made them do.

A stab of guilt hit him when he thought of Leah Redbourne not being able to see him on his wedding day, especially since it was something she so obviously desired for him.  But he took comfort in knowing that even though his heart hadn’t been in it, he’d tried really hard to make her proud.

He’d rented the nicest room in the only hotel in town and had requested it be filled with as many flowers as one could find on such short notice.  He would have

rented two rooms, but he didn’t want Abby to be the brunt of talk, and he determined he could just sleep in the chaise that typically accompanied those types of rooms.

He’d ordered a hot bath to be brought tothe room and since there was no time for a

wedding vacation, he had rented a nice little surrey to escort her around town and maybe take her on an afternoon picnic.

Countless times he’d listened to his mother tell each of his brothers prior to their respective wedding dates that it was the groom’s responsibility to make a bride feel special. To spoil her.

He’d failed miserably.

Even the weather had been against him and he felt a twinge of remorse as he reflected on the events of the past few hours. He’d make it up to her.  Someday.

He glanced back up at the lean-to, watching Abby’s retreating figure dart through the rain and waited for her to duck inside before drawing Raine’s bag open.

He pulled the liniment, laudanum, cleantowels and bandages from the bag.  Hisexperienced hands worked to cleanse thewounds on Bella’s chest and leg.  Afterdousing the wound at her chest inlaudanum, he placed a damp dressing overthe laceration and expertly tied anotherbandage around the horse’s neck andunder her undamaged leg to hold thedressing in place.

Maverick, seeming to feel forgotten,nickered in the background.  “We’ve doneit good this time, boy.”  Cole stood andstretched out the cramped muscles in hisback.  Grabbing the pitchfork he pulledanother cluster of straw into a clean, butempty stall for his own tired horse.  Placing the pitchfork aside he reached forthe fancy groomer’s brush his little sister

had given him last year for Christmas and began stroking the animal to both relax himself and the horse.

“I’m a married man, Maverick old friend.  She’s McCallister’s daughter and Alaric’s girl.  What am I supposed to do with that?”

When he’d finished putting everythingaway and had assured himself Bella wasas relaxed as possible, he leaned his backand shoulder into the doorframe and took

a deep breath—the cool night air filling his lungs.  Glancing toward the lean-to, he saw the dim firelight illuminating the only window and smiled.

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