The Rancher (21 page)

“It’s a little late for that now, isn’t it. You are her husband.   You’ve already vowed to love her, honor her, and all those other things you promised to do when you married her. Is it fair to Abby to turn your back on all those things?”  Raine leaned forward low on his mount and

looked Cole square in the face.

“It’s okay for you to be happy,

Charcoal.”

Cole turned away.  “I feel guilty livinga life Alaric will never have a chance at.

Starting the ranch. Marrying the girl. Owning the land. I don’t deserve any ofit.”

A lone tear escaped his wet lids to traildown Cole’s hard planed cheek. Hewiped it away before Raine could see.  The familiar torment of Alaric’s words

taunted Cole once again.
 
Tell her...I loved her.  Make sure she’s happy.  Take care of her, my friend.

“So, now my little brother, vowed bachelor, is married.”  Raine’s voice was full of wonder.

“But how do I compete with the memory of a dead man?”

“Let’s get you two back to the ranch.  Somehow, it will work itself out.

Hopefully, her father will be waitingthere, without a shotgun, and we can getthe word around you are both safe.”

Cole went to get Abby. Raine was right. If they didn’t get back soon, they’d be in amess. He strode with hurried pace to thesmall outbuilding.  When he did not see Abby inside, his heart lurched.  He calledout her name.  Running to the creek ledge, Cole scanned the bank to see if she satnear the water. Not that lucky.

He ran back up the abrupt hill and overto where Raine still sat on his horse.

“She’s gone,”
 
he stated emphatically.  Without stopping, he walked into the barn to retrieve his saddle and pull Maverick from his stall.

“What do you mean, she’s gone?”  Raine called after him, eyeing him incredulously.

Cole   pulled  his   horse   alongside Raine’s.  “I mean she is not in the lean-to, she’s not down by the creek.   She is simply not here.”  He pulled the cinches tight and threw a blanket roll on the back of his saddle.

“You are going to have your hands full with that one, Charcoal.”  Raine pulled his horse’s reins to the left, looking back over his shoulder at a bewildered Cole.  “We’d better go find her before she gets herself into another mess of trouble.”

“I really do not understand women.”

“Welcome to manhood, my boy.”  Raine laughed and they pulled out of

camp.

“Let’s check that big oak tree at the far edge of the spread.   She seems to have some connection to that spot.”

Raine nodded and spurred his horse forward.

Abby sat on a large rock some distancefrom the tree.  Her knees were wrappedtightly against her chest within the span ofher husband’s jacket and she gripped theshell of her wedding dress in her hands.

Her face had begun to chap from thefierce wind that had continuously slappedagainst her tear stained cheeks for thebetter part of a day. Her hair whippedviolently around her face.  She could notbring herself to divert her eyes from thecold, lifeless animal that lay just feet

away.

Her mind recounted, with relentless fervor, images from the last few days.  She’d killed a rattle snake in the barn, married   a   complete   stranger,   been attacked by a mountain lion, and had to put down her mother’s horse.
 
What a week.

The unmistakable sound of horsesapproaching caught Abby’s attention andshe shifted her head to see the two largeforms of her new husband and his brother

riding toward her.

She couldn’t face him.   She’d run

away.  Again.  She had never run from any type of fight before she’d met the likes of Cole Redbourne and she did not want to

see the disappointment in his eyes when

he looked at her.

“Abby?”

She had expected his voice to be harshand   laced   with   distain,   but   wasunprepared for the concern she heardthere.

She knew her eyes would be red andswollen from crying and she had no desireto offer proof to his certain conclusion—that she was weak.

“Abby, look at me.”   Cole haddismounted and now knelt next to her.  Hewas bent low, the soothing pressure of hishands stroking her hair.

Somehow, she felt her fears beginningto relent, and despite her inward struggleto refrain from meeting his gaze, shesuccumbed to his gentle coaxing.

Looking up, she found herself immersedin pools of the most fascinating shades ofbrown. She mused how they matched the

hue of his stallion, but with flecks of honey. His dark complexion added a smoky depth to his eyes and she searched them, unsure of what she would find or exactly what she was looking for.

“She’s okay!” Cole shouted over his shoulder to Raine—neither removing his hand from the back of her head nor his eyes from hers.  “You ride on ahead,” he said, “and let her father know we’re all right.”

“It’ll be a good two hours to the McCallister place from here—if you take it easy.  I’ll let him know you should be there in time for supper.” Raine tipped his hat and pulled his horse around.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Redbourne,” she began, but he placed a roughened finger over her lips, moved beside her, and crouched

down, leaning against the rock.

“When do you think you will start calling me Cole?” He tilted his head and brushed away a loose wisp of hair from her face. “We
 
are
 
husband and wife after

all.”

She stared at him for a long while, amazed she could call such a man hers. She noted the slight discoloration and puffiness of his jaw and a stitch of guilt in her gut. She forced a smile.

“After our first child, maybe?   The second?”

He was teasing her, she knew, but heatrose immediately to her face.

“Cole.”  She managed a smile.

“Let’s get you back to your ranch...Mrs. Redbourne.”   He pulled himself into astanding position.  Still holding one of her

hands, he entwined his smallest finger with hers.  The minute gesture caused his jacket to slip away from her legs and feet to reveal a bloody gash in her shin beneath the torn denim pant leg.

When he looked at her questioningly, she shrugged. “I fell.”

Understanding registered on his face.  With a slight shake to his head he released her hand and walked over to his horse, unlatching one of his saddle bags.

She watched him closely.   When he returned to her, he pulled a bottle of liquid and a small silver jar from the black bag, she now recognized as the doctoring kit from the barn. In his other hand he held a

clean piece of his torn shirt they’d used

for Bella.

Cole reached down to remove her

boots.   No words were spoken as he pulled off the semblance of a boot that was now in shreds. He doused the rag with water from his canteen and rubbed it

against the white poultice from the silver jar.  He ripped the pant leg to a point just above the wound to reveal several other

small cuts and blotches of bruised skin.

Still, he didn’t speak.

He simply washed the torn flesh, his large work-roughened hands wiping away the dirt from her small wounds.

Abby was surprised again by his gentle

manner.   He was nothing like Jeremiah

Carson.  She looked skyward.
 
Thank you.

Cole saturated the remaining portion ofthe rag with the substance from the bottle.  He first poured fresh water over her legand then treated her cuts with what

smelled like witch hazel.  The aching and stinging in her leg began to diminish almost immediately.

“What is it?”  she asked, staring at the white mixture.

“Soap,” he replied with a hint of a smile, “mixed with a bit of my ma’s special ingredient,” he finished after a moment.

His precision with Bella had told herhe was an expert with horses, but she hadnot expected his expertise would extend totaking care of a woman.
 
Who are you?
 
She wondered and for the first time since

she met him she recognized a deep seated

desire to know.

Cole finished and returned the contentsof the bag to their place.  Then with oneseamless movement, he pulled Abby up

into his arms.  Grasping her boots with two fingers he walked to the horse and placed her in the front of the saddle.  Swinging up behind her a moment later, he placed the tattered dress in her lap.  The awkward quiet of strangers returned as her back pressed intimately against his chest and they began the long journey home.

Cole groaned inwardly as Abby easedback against him.  Although she was stilltinted in mud and her hair in disarray, thefeel of the soft ripe curve of her hipresting under his arm, was nearly hisundoing.  For the first time, he wonderedwhy the wealthy ranch owner’s daughterhad sought escape in a stranger’s arms.

As a stranger’s bride.

“Why didn’t he come for me?”  Herquestion was quiet, yet full of self-conscious fears.

“They’ve been out searching all night.  I’m sure he’s anxiously waiting your return at home.” Cole bent his head

forward until his mouth touched her hair.  He was surprised at his urge to place a gentle kiss on the back of her head in a comforting gesture.  He refrained.

“Not my father,” she said, dismissing the idea, “Alaric.”

Cole was not ready to explain why he was there in Alaric’s stead, but he knew she needed to know what had happened.

“Alaric wanted you to know he didn’t forget you. He’d loved you for a very long time.”

Her silence willed him to continue, buthe could not find the words.
 
It’s simple,

Cole.  Just say it.

“Alaric is dead, Abby.”  Her suddeninflux of air was the only indication she’dheard him.  He unwittingly tightened hisarm around her.

They rode in silence for the better partof the trip.  Cole sensed Abby had fallenasleep and was careful to keep her steadyin the saddle.

They’d been following the river for thebetter  part  of  an  hour  when  the SilverHawk came into view.  Straining tofocus on the sounds that came from theother side of the small thicket to his left, Cole pulled Maverick to a stop. If hedidn’t know any better, he would say thatthere were falls just behind the coppice. If