The Rancher (23 page)

Abby liked it when Cole smiled.

“Ready?” he asked.  “Your father willbe expecting us.”

Three packed bags awaited Abby on thesteps to the homestead.  Her course wasslow as she approached the house.

“I ain’t never seen your father so fit tobe tied.” The white haired woman spoke

without looking up.  “Going off and gettin’ yerself married to a perfect stranger.”  Martha,   the   family’s   cook   and housekeeper shook her head as she set a hot cobbler on the porch to cool.

“Martha?” Abby touched the woman on the arm.

“Good heavens, child.  Your hair is wet and you’re a shiverin’ like an autumn leaf. Come in and sit by the fire.” The concern in Martha’s eyes touched her.

Abby glanced at the bags on the steps.

“Had me pack up all yer things.”  A tsking sound followed her words.

Abby ran past Martha into the house and up the large staircase at the edge of the living area.  The door to her room was closed.  She stood there, her hand on the door knob, and breathed.   Slowly she

opened the door to a spacious room void of her personal belongings.  The bed was made with clean white sheets and a woven blanket draped across the bottom.   The floor had been recently swept and the furniture had all been dusted.  The comfort she had believed she’d find in the solace

of her bedroom had all but disappeared.

“Father,” she screamed.  Running down the stairs she first looked in the kitchen, then his study. “Father,” she shouted again.

She nearly knocked the housekeeper over as she ran to the front door.  “Where

is he, Martha?” she asked, her jaw pulsating.

The back door slammed.   Its hearty echo sounded throughout the house.

“Martha?”   The deep baritone voice

called from the back of the kitchen.

“I’d say he’s in the kitchen.”  Martha spoke as she tried to conceal a smirk by rubbing an imaginary smudge off the corner of her mouth.

Abby walked into the kitchen and overto the back door where Clay McCallisterstood, ignoring her completely.

“Father,”   she   pleaded.   “Bereasonable.”

Clay McCallister looked Abby squarein the face and pulled off his brownleather work gloves.  “Martha,” he calledagain walking past his only daughter towhere the older woman leaned against theopen door to the living area.

“Martha,” he looked down at her andsmiled.   “Will you please warm some

milk?  That colt is not doing well.  He

won’t eat. We’ll need to try to feed him again or we’ll lose him.”

“The colt?  Bella’s foal? What do you mean you’ll need to feed him?   He’s nearly four months old and been eating on his own for weeks now.”  Abby grabbed her father’s arm from behind and forced

him to look at her, to talk to her.

“It was too soon to take Bella away, Abigail,” his voice was stern and she hated it when he used her full name.  “The

colt has not eaten or taken a drink since

yesterday morning.”

Her father’s words lashed at her

conscience and she turned away from

him.

“Now that she’s gone, we won’t have the luxury of weaning him slowly.  It’ll take some drastic measures to salvage the

colt.”

Abby looked up at her father, surprised he knew about Bella. When he pointed to the window, she saw Cole talking to Raine near the corral and knew all the

evening’s   events   had   already  been discussed without her. Her feelings of relief at not having to tell her father what had happened were overshadowed by indignation at not being included in the conversation.

A strong hand pressed on her shoulder.  Her father squeezed gently and his tonecalmed.  “I’m glad you’re safe, Abby!”  She turned into the large man’s encirclingembrace.  The tears fell freely this time,nothing holding back.   She snuggledcloser, feeling the comfort only herfather’s arms could offer.

“Okay, let me in on some of that.”  Martha stood just behind them with one hand on Abby’s back.  Abby reached her arm out to bring Martha into the bear size hug.

Abby was the first to pull away, wiping the tears from her reddened eyes.

“My things?” She looked at her father questioningly.   He led her down the hallway toward the room reserved for special company.  When the door swung open she saw all of her things organized and neatly put away.

“I told Martha to pack your clothes and leave them on the steps in your traveling

cases.  After all, they had to be moved into your new room anyway.” Clay paused and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face.  “You had to know the worry I went

through while you were gone.” He put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her

on the top of her head. “This will be your home for as long as you need it to be, Abs.”

Her eyes fell on a small shaving bin atthe far side of the room and a hat hangingon one of the bed posts.

“So, you’re not angry?” she asked withhope in her voice.

“Oh, I’m angry all right.  Mad enough tospit nails.  But that doesn’t change the factthat you’re my daughter and, well...I loveya.” He gave her a big squeeze beforeturning back for the kitchen.

Abby followed.

“That doesn’t mean, however, that Iapprove of the stunt you pulled.   Youchanged a lot of lives yesterday, little

girl.”

“I’m not a little girl.   I...”   Abby’s indignant voice trailed as she saw a slender dark haired woman through the window walking toward Cole and Raine at the edge of the corral.  Abby moved closer to the window.  She watched the

interaction with interest and recognized the coquettish smile that now played on the woman’s face.

“When did Jenna get back into town?” she asked, fingering the thin window coverings as she watched the woman acting coy with the men outside.  Jenna, adorned in a light brown riding skirt, sleek black riding boots and a red button down shirt tucked into the top of her skirt, threw her head back and laughed at something Cole had said.  Abby’s fingers

tightened their grip on the curtains.

A deep rumbling laugh erupted behind her and she spun to face her father.  “Why, if I didn’t know any better I would say you are jealous, young lady.”  The twinkle in his eye as he spoke made Abby’s lips twitch slightly into a brief smile.

“Why should I be jealous?” Abby turned back to the window, eying the scene with unmasked disdain.   “He is already
 
my
 
husband.”

When Jenna began laughing and pawing at Cole’s chest, Abby could stand it no longer.  “Why that little...”  She headed for the door.

“Um, Abby?  You might want to change out of that getup before greeting your guest.”  Martha held up one of her bags.

Abby glanced down at her attire.

Cole’s clothes were a might too big, butshe smiled at the thought of talking to Jenna while she wore Cole’s shirt.

“Abby?” Martha warned, seeming tohave some idea what was on her mind.

Wiping the mischievous grin from herface, she grabbed the bag from Martha,who followed her into her new quarters.

Abby pulled each article of clothing outof the bag to evaluate its impression andtossed them in every direction until shefound the perfect outfit.  She held up thedark brown riding trousers she’d receivedjust before her mother died.

Martha pulled a cornflower blue shirtfrom the closet.  “I think you would lookjust lovely in this my dear.”

Abby did not waste another moment.  She shed Cole’s clothes, laid them on the

large cushioned chair in the corner of the room and pulled on her own fitted trousers.

“Father will not be happy to see me wearing britches, but drastic times call for drastic measures.”

When Abby was finished dressing she looked at her reflection in the mirrored dresser.  The outfit was perfect, but her hair, still wet from the falls hung about her face in a limp disorder.

Martha pushed her down onto the vanity stool and began brushing through her hair.  She pulled tightly and then tied a matching ribbon high on the back of Abby’s head.

“There.  A fit bride. Now, go get your

man.”

Abby hugged the woman before running

out into the kitchen.  Pausing at the back

door, she took a deep breath, smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her pant legs and put a smile on her face.

Just as Abby stepped off the back porch, an untamed stallion in the corral rushed the fence where Jenna stood.

Abby lurched forward, shocked at the animal’s behavior and even more so that the fence bowed, but didn’t break.  However, the force had sent Jenna sprawling forward directly into Cole’s unsuspecting arms.

Minx.

A low whistle came from one of the

cowboys.

“Maybe you should stay away from fences with mustangs behind them in the future, ma’am or there may not be anyone to catch you,” Cole said as he smiled

respectfully at the young woman.

“I’m just lucky to have such strong men all around.”   Her voice was like hot butter...smooth, but greasy, and Abby found herself wanting to punch her old rival in the face.

With as sickeningly sweet a voice as she could muster, Abby broke into the polite exchange.  “Why, Jenna.  I didn’t know you were back in town.   I see you’ve met my husband and brother-inlaw.”

Cole eyed her appraisingly.   Abby warmed under his stare and when she

noted that his eyes traveled the length of her, she felt a blush creeping into her already hot cheeks.

“It’s nice to meet you, brother-in-law.” Jenna spoke in dreamy tones as she

pushed herself back into Cole’s chest, circling one of his shirt buttons with her long dainty forefinger.

“Actually,” Cole took a step toward Abby, “I’m the husband.”  Cole removed Jenna’s hand from his torso and placed a protective arm around Abby’s shoulders.

Warmth radiated through Abby’s body under his touch.

“Too bad,” Jenna said in a haughty drawl, her displeasure obvious.

She didn’t remove her eyes from Cole.  With one eyebrow cocked she slid her tongue across the front of her teeth before turning her attention to Abby.  Her face lost its practiced beauty as she measured her up.

“Well, Abby.  It has been a long time.  You haven’t changed a bit.”   Jenna’s

heavy   eyelids   were   dramatically downcast and her nose pointed at the afternoon clouds.

“You haven’t changed either, Jenna.  Still trying to steal other women’s men I see.”  Abby plastered on her face the most charming smile she could rally.

Cole nearly choked.  He dropped his hand to his side and leaned back against the fence.

The artificial smile on Jenna’s face turned   into   a   downright   frown, transforming her classic features until they took on a feline quality.

“What do you want, Jenna?  Besides
 
my
 
husband, I mean?”

Jenna’s eyes narrowed into slits.  “Clay said the filly was ready.   I’ll need her before the party tonight.”

Abby’s mind raced for something toretort, but found nothing.

“Ah, Jenna.   Come for your filly Iguess?”  Clay’s voice came from behind.  Abby stood firm while the woman sweptaround her and held out her hand demurelyto Clay.  Together, the two of them walkedinto the corral discussing horses and the SilverHawk’s new breeding program.

Abby spun around at the rich laughterthat burst out from Cole.  “You’re just alittle spitfire, aren’t ya?” he asked.  Thegleam in his eye and the contagious curveof his mouth made hers twitch.

Cole, still with a smirk on his face,pushed himself away from the fence postand took one inquiring step toward her.  She froze.  Her heart began to race, but thesmile that had cracked the surface refused

to leave.  She didn’t move. He seemed encouraged and took two more steps forward until he stood mere inches away from her.  She swallowed.  Abby had to tilt her head upward to see his eyes.

“Come, wife.  Or, should I just call you, my little spitfire?” His voice was like velvet as he lowered his head toward her.