The Rancher (22 page)

that were the case, it would give Abby a chance to at least wash her face and hands

before seeing her father.   If she were anything like the other women he’d known, she would be grateful for a short respite.

Cole rode some distance along the clusters of trees until he found what looked to be a trail, obscured by overgrown thicket and brush.

“Abby?” he spoke her name against her

ear.   No movement.   “Abby?” he tried again, rubbing his work roughened hands over her arms brusquely.

“Why did we stop?” She sat up straight and looked around.  “We’re nearly there.”

Cole dismounted.  He reached for the dense foliage that covered the trail, only to find it moved easily, in one large

piece.
 
What a clever little hiding place
, he thought.

“How did you know?” she asked, staring at him from her perch on his horse.

“Know what?” He walked back and

took  Maverick’s   reins,   leading  him through the small passageway he’d just uncovered.

“About this place,” she replied, her voice seemed a mixture of annoyance and

awe.

As he walked farther in, he was pleasedto see there was a small inlet from the

river, with a grassy area near the bank.  He could still hear the hollow rush of a waterfall, but could not see it.  He pulled the horse about and was happy the ranch was still visible from his position.

Cole reached up for Abby, but was

greeted with apprehension.   A few moments passed before Abby slid her hand into his and allowed him to help her dismount.

“We’re only a few minutes from the ranch,” she stated as she looked from him back to the buildings clearly in view.

She certainly knew her way around the place and Cole imagined how a young girl might have created a sanctuary here, tucked away from the rest of the world.

“I thought you might want to wash some of that grime off your face and relax here a bit in the sun before we meet up with everyone at the ranch.”

A large rock conducting water through a small worn hole caught his attention.  He pulled the travel blanket and canteen from Maverick’s back and walked to the

stream.   He tossed the blanket onto the grass and knelt down on the bank.  Water spilled through the hole in the rock and Cole set his canteen under the small torrent it created.

A fresh water spring, how ‘bout that?

Once the lid was back in place, he set itaside while he unfolded the patchworkblanket on the ground and situated himselfon the denim squares, allowing the sun tobeat down on his face.  He leaned back

onto his elbows and watched as the water hurried by.

He’d had plenty of time to think on the ride, but wasn’t ready to face Clay McCallister again.  The first time they’d met had not gone exactly as planned.  Being foreman on the SilverHawk would have given him plenty of opportunity to

ask questions, but now he wasn’t sure if Abby’s father would even let him step foot onto the ranch.

Soaking in the sweet smell of a day following the rain, he tilted his head backward to find his new bride.

Abby reached her hand up to her neck and she bit her bottom lip.

Now she’s shy?

She took a step forward, but then broke into a dead run toward the river.   She tossed his jacket back to him and jumped into the water without hesitation.  He shot

to his feet, his eyes fixed on the spot where she’d gone in.  Half stunned, half amused, he held his breath, waiting for her to emerge.  He was about ready to go in after her when out of the corner of his eye he saw movement.  She swam just beneath

the surface of the water, moving down the

left side of a small fork in the river.

He followed her along the water’sridge,   but  when  Abby  disappearedcompletely under a hedge of overgrownbranches and bushes hovering just abovethe river’s bend, he barely avoided aprotruding tree branch that would haveknocked him flat.

“Fool, woman.  She’ll catch her death for sure,” he grumbled. The foliage was so thick it extended across the river and encompassed the length of the clearing.

“Abby?” he yelled, hoping she could hear him. Praying she was all right.

Nothing.

The   thicket   wall    appeared impenetrable.   Like the entrance to this little inlet, Cole suspected there was

another way through to the other side of the shrubbery wall. An awkwardly angled stick protruded from the far side of the barrier and with one swift tug, a woven doorway of sorts gave way.  He pushed his way through.

The captivating sight that greeted him on the other side kindled a fire inside him that both awed and infuriated him.

Chapter Eleven

Abby’s head broke through the surfaceof the small lagoon and she took in a deep,satisfying breath.   She brushed the hairaway from her face and looked around,smiling at her hidden sanctuary with itssuspended cascades and grassy knolls.  She had discovered it as a child and to her

knowledge, no one else had ever ventured past the first clearing.

Abby had known the water would still be freezing this time of year from the spring run-off and the chill had already reached her bones.  She chastised herself for her impetuousness. The cold water on Abby’s skin invigorated her--its icy sting

pierced through the cloud of pain she had experienced over the last twenty-four hours.

The grime and dirt that lined her face had only been part of the physical evidence   of  this   week’s   emotional whirlwind.  The rippling river had called out to her, inviting her to the place where she would find a moment’s refuge. Once she’d started moving, she could not force herself to stop and before she could rethink the idea, she had jumped into the frigid waters of the creek.

She dragged herself up onto the bank, not realizing how heavy the oversized denims would be when wet.  The twine at

her waist held strong, holding the trousers just above her hips. She turned over and lay on her back, willing the sun to warm

her.  The shrubbery gate would have been a wiser choice, but Cole would have followed and Abby had needed a moment to herself.

After a few minutes, she sat up, pullingher knees into her chest.  Streaks of muddywater dripped from her hair and downonto the green shirt she still wore. Shestood up and quickly unbuttoned thegarment, tossing it aside as she crawledup the small rock cliffs to the flat ledgebehind the smallest of the burblingcascades.

Abby reached both of her hands in acupping motion into the rush of water thatfell into the lake-like pond, not more thana few feet down.  As she splashed thecrisp water against her face and barearms, she could feel the streaks of mud

washing away.  She leaned forward and flipped her hair in front of her, allowing the pressure from the cascade to rinse the mire completely from her mane.

The frigidity of the water overtook her desire to clean up before facing her father.   She squeezed the excess water from her hair and pulled away from the falls and moved back out into the sunlight.

Where yesterday had been bleak and stormy, today the sun had come out, playfully dancing with the few clouds that still lingered in the sky.  She closed her eyes and lifted her face skyward, basking in its warmth.   Her skin still puckered with a chill and her teeth chattered.  She

wrapped her arms around her front and looked down at the soaked green shirt she had discarded onto the brush.  She wished

now for something dry to cover herself.  Her bodice was soaked through to transparency and Abby was grateful Cole couldn’t see her this exposed.

A moment longer,
 
she thought,
 
and I will return to him
.

Abby turned to face the vision the cascades provided.   This was home.  Unaccustomed   to   having   so   many

conflicting   emotions   vying   for   her attention, she sat down and lay back again against the grass, thinking of what awaited her in this new future she’d just created.

Facing Clay McCallister might be harder than she’d originally thought and she hoped Cole was up to the challenge.

Married?  What will I do next?

The rustle in the branches told Abby Cole had finally come looking for her.

When she darted a glance toward theentrance, which was still covered in adisorganized heap of underbrush, she wasmet with piercing almost black eyes.  Sheleaned up onto her elbows and staredback.

Cole stood in front of the shrubberygate as still as a stone statue, his face likecarved marble.  By the stunned look on hisface, she suspected he had been standingthere longer than she’d suspected.   Shequickly stood up and pulled the wet greenshirt over her shoulders and held the front

of it closed.

The wind whistled a vaguely familiartune and while her arms were now

covered in gooseflesh, the relentless pounding of her heart emanated heat from within.  Cole’s white linen shirt fell open

at the top and his tanned flesh peered at her from beneath the cloth.  When her gaze returned to his face she noted his appreciative   expression   had   been replaced with one of steel as he peered back at her. Chiseled. Unreadable.

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to freeze to death?  I would have just left you out in the rain last night, hiding in that tree.”  His voice was cool and steady, his jaw tight.

A cold shiver ran through her.  Whether it originated from his penetrating stare or the frigid breeze against her wet skin she did not know.

Cole cleared his throat.  “Your father

will be expecting us.”  His tone was gruff and his look stern. He turned away from her and walked back through the foliage

gate.

Abby rubbed her arms from the cold, but she could not bring herself to move from her position.  She sat there, watching the place where he had appeared in her secret little haven.

“Cole?”  She managed his name through chattering teeth and an inexplicably dry mouth.

She didn’t know how he got to her sofast, but he was there in an instant.  Heundid the remaining buttons of his shirt,then removed hers and pulled her hunchedframe into the warmth of his bare chest,vigorously rubbing her back and arms.

Abby tilted her head to look up at himand was surprised to find his face so closeto hers.  His warming motion slowed onher arms and his grip loosened a little.  He

leaned toward her, his head bending even closer.   She was ready for the moment when his mouth would find hers and with parted lips she closed her eyes.

One moment passed.  Then two.  She opened her eyes.  He let go of her and reached down to pick up the wet shirt.  He scooped her up into his arms and trenched over the broken twigs and branches through the thicket wall. When they reached the clearing, he set her down on her feet.

“Stay,” he ordered.

She had no intention of disobeying.

He returned to her side with a dry white shirt and brown trousers. “At this rate, I’ll need a new wardrobe by morning,” he said with a hint of laughter in his voice.

He was teasing.  At least she hoped he

was.

“Thank you,” she spoke in a breathless whisper.

They stood there for some time, staring at each other, before Cole cleared his throat, nodded, and turned his back to her, his arm outstretched.

Confused at first, it only took Abby amoment to realize he wanted her wet

things. She undressed quickly and handed him the offending garments.

Cole looked at the contents of his hand.  “Chemise too.”

She felt the blush stain her cheeks, but hastily  complied.   She  tossed  her drenched pantaloons and bodice on top of the other clothes draped from his arm.

Apparently satisfied, he returned to his horse,   hung  the  wet  clothing  over

Maverick’s rump, and leaned against thesaddle with his forearms.  At least he was

a gentleman.

The crunching of leaves drew both of

their attention across the river.  A small

brown and white rabbit ducked for a hole just in front of a fallen log. The corners of Cole’s mouth upturned as he glanced over at her.