Wild Horses (8 page)

Hero.
Todd had saved her brother. Who had almost drowned. How was it possible for Wade to have survived so much, including war, and almost die falling into a fishing hole? Years of worry flooded in and put every nerve on edge. “I'd rather handle the cattle alone.”

“Nora, maybe you
can
do it solo—” Wade glared at her “—but I don't want you to have to deal with this on your own.”

“If you hadn't gone fishing with him, you wouldn't be hurt!” She blurted out her thoughts even though they made no sense. “So I'd rather not have his help.”

“Jeez, Nora, calm down! I fell off the damn rock all by myself. Todd was way downstream.”

“I just think it's interesting that the first time you guys hang out, you get hurt.”

“You're being ridiculous, sis.”

Wade was right. She was. Completely. But all her anxiety for her little brother was swirling in her veins.

“I'm gonna take off.” Todd backed away toward the door.

Nora flushed. He must think she was nuts. But seeing Wade hurt, even with such a minor injury, was bringing back every fear she'd tried to tamp down during those two long years he'd been at war. She'd been so grateful he'd come back unscathed. And now he wasn't. She took a shaky breath. “I'm sorry, Todd. Of course this wasn't your fault.”

He looked at her searchingly. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. Just overprotective of my little brother.”

“Nora,” Wade groaned in obvious embarrassment. “You've got to stop.”

Todd laughed. “It's okay, man. I get it. She just cares about you. You're lucky.”

The words hung in the air for a moment while they all tried to interpret them. Nora was grateful when Wade held out his good hand to shake Todd's. “Thanks, T. We'll see you in the morning.”

T?
Wade had given him a nickname? “You don't need to come.” Nora knew she sounded stubborn. And just plain dumb. But she didn't want Todd's help. Didn't want him near her. Because he was being nice about all her craziness and it was creating this warmth that she didn't want to feel when he looked at her. And gratitude was seeping in because he'd pulled her brother out of the water, and if Wade had been at that stream alone, and bashed his head, and been unconscious, and slid into the water... She shuddered.

“I'll be here,” Todd said quietly. “If I'm really not helpful, you can send me away. But let me try.”

“That'd be great.” Wade reached out with his good arm and clapped Todd on the shoulder.

Nora glowered at her brother.

Todd paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Thanks for going fishing with me.”

“We'll do it again soon,” Wade assured him, and Nora closed the door behind her ex a little sooner than was probably polite.

“Why are you being friends with him?” she asked as she helped Wade upstairs to the shower.

“He's a nice guy.” Her brother grunted. He was clearly in more pain than he was letting on. “And he likes beer...and fishing.”

“That's all it takes, huh?”

“You want me to hate him because he broke up with you almost ten years ago? He's a nice guy, Nora. And he's promised me he's not going to bug you or try to date you or anything like that. He knows it would never work.”

It shouldn't hurt, but it did. Todd, the guy who'd haunted her all these years, was completely over her. And had easily promised as much to her brother. Cue embarrassment, and then anger. “You talked to him about me? Why?”

“Because I don't want him screwing up your life like he did before.”

“Don't talk to him about me again. Please. Ever.” They'd reached the bathroom and Nora leaned over to start the shower. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and her reflection, complete with mussed hair, hollow eyes and pillow lines, looked back at her. She stared, willing herself to take in Wade's words. Todd's words.
He knows it would never work.

She'd spent years trying to forget Todd and never could. She'd hoped all her anger over the wild horses would help her to keep her distance, but the anger was fizzling.

Todd had replaced her phone, explained his reason for freeing the horses and apologized countless times. He'd also left a copy of the article his friend had written to help Lee in her mailbox. He'd done everything he could to atone for what happened, and unfortunately for her, it was working. She just wasn't that angry at him anymore.

Which made her furious at herself.

But maybe learning firsthand that moving on was no problem for him would help her. It was a good lesson in the reality of love.

It was time to truly accept, once and for all, that she and Todd hadn't been the big love, the true love, she'd always felt they were.

Going forward, she'd just have to face Todd with as much indifference as she could muster and hopefully, eventually, that indifference would be real. She wished that time would come soon, because she was sick and tired of the heartache.

CHAPTER NINE

I
T
WAS
ONLY
two dozen heifers, but Nora watched the truck pull slowly into the driveway with excitement buzzing inside her. Wade was going to have cattle. Real cattle, bought and paid for. The start of a herd that would hopefully give her brother's life a focus, and a sense of purpose and meaning.

“Funny how things work out, huh?” Todd looked at her, but Nora tried not to meet his eyes for too long. Even after her reality check last night, they still did funny things to her spine.

Ugh. She had to stop thinking about stuff like that. He wasn't for her. He was just a random piece of the past. She had to stay in the present. “It
is
strange. When I left here, I swore I'd never have cattle again as long as I lived.”

“I guess we can't know what will happen.” Todd was saddling up one of the mustangs he'd brought over. Abby was a beautiful buckskin mare with a gorgeous full black mane and tail. Nora was drawn to the little horse, wanting to be the one to ride her when they moved the cattle. But she hadn't ridden in years. She just hoped she stayed on whichever horse Todd offered.

She watched as Todd pulled the stirrup down and took the mare gently by the reins, leading her away from the side of the barn and swinging up on her back effortlessly. “True,” she answered. “I certainly never thought I'd see you under a cowboy hat, up on a horse, on my family's ranch.”

He looked good up there, too. In college he'd been beautiful, but also sort of skinny. A boy. Now he was muscled all over and as at home on a horse as any local she'd ever met. She looked away. He was a hologram of who he'd been then and who he was now, the two versions of him meeting and changing and weaving together in a disconcerting combination.

“I've changed.” He looked down at her with a quick wink. “And I'm still changing. Especially now, with you around to give me lectures on how to behave.”

“I'm not giving you lectures.” She shaded her eyes, watching the driver of the cattle truck turn the vehicle around in ponderous maneuvers.

“And what do you call what happened at the High Country the other night? With Tess?”

“Okay, fine. One lecture.” She winced as the truck's wheels spun for a moment in the dry grass lining the dirt road. They'd just have to add that hole to the list of things to fix.

“And in the Dusty Saddle?”

“Well, you deserved more than a lecture that night!” Defensiveness prickled and had her turning to face him. He was grinning. “You're teasing me!”

“Yup. But I truly appreciate you putting me in check.” He pointed to his bad leg. “Hard evidence, right here, that I can get carried away when I'm fighting for something I believe in.”

He had to stop being so nice. “I'd better go talk to the driver,” she said. The truck had stopped and she walked briskly toward the cab. The door swung open and the hauler got out.

“I'll back it right up to unload,” he said, indicating the chute Wade had just finished repairing a couple days ago.

Nora nodded and climbed the ladder built onto the side of the chute as the truck approached. She reached over to open the gate that would allow the cattle to exit down the ramp and into the corral. From there she planned to move them to the one pasture where Wade had repaired the fencing. This delivery was a small step toward Wade's big dreams, but at least they were on their way.

The latch was on the far side of the gate and she had to reach over to tug on the metal handle. It wouldn't give. Wade must have done something different to it when he fixed it. She climbed up onto the next rung and leaned farther across the gate.

The truck was almost up to the chute, backing slowly, beeping rhythmically. She could hear the cattle complaining and stomping, and the air filled with the smell of their manure. The latch gave slightly but it was stiff. She yanked as hard as she could and then suddenly it moved, throwing her off balance.

“Nora!” It was Todd's voice she heard as she hit the ground directly behind the reversing semi. Terror sent the world into slow motion as she scrabbled in the dirt, trying to gain her feet as the huge tires rolled toward her.

Strong hands caught her under the arms and had her airborne. Then she slammed onto Todd's chest as he collided with the rough ground just out of reach of those wheels. Nora lay cradled in his arms, stunned. The truck halted a few inches before the chute, right where Nora had been seconds before, the driver oblivious to the drama that had gone on in his blind spot.

“Guess maybe it was a good thing I came by today?” Todd's ragged breathing made the words rough.

“I guess so.” Nora pushed herself up and away, trying to breathe. She rolled off Todd and sat in the dirt next to him, rubbing her stinging knees. He sat up gingerly, examining a scrape on his elbow.

She glanced over at him, taking in the dirt that covered him. He'd lost his hat when he'd tackled her, and dust clung to his sweat-dampened hair. “Thank you.”

He smiled, slightly. “Couldn't have both of us end up with a bad leg.”

Nora heard the door slam and the truck driver appeared, staring at them sitting in the dust near the back end of his truck. He was obviously mystified. “Everything okay back here?” he asked.

Todd glanced at Nora. She shook her head slightly. The last thing she wanted was to be the topic of gossip down in the bar that night. People would love to tell tales of the Hoffmans' pathetic attempts to make a clean start. Todd must have understood her meaning. “We're just taking a rest before the real work starts,” he told the driver.

“Funny place to rest.” The man pulled off his baseball cap and took a bandanna out of his pocket to wipe his forehead against the heat. “I could have hit you.”

“You could have,” Nora agreed, “but you didn't.”

“And we appreciate that,” Todd added.

A wild giggle escaped and both men looked at Nora strangely. Maybe she was just hysterical, but she'd never been able to resist Todd's understated humor.

She stood up stiffly and offered a hand to Todd and he took it, letting her help pull him to his feet. “Thank you again,” she told him.

“Don't mention it,” Todd murmured. “I'm just glad you're okay.”

“I wouldn't have been, without you. First Wade, now me. You're becoming the official rescuer of the Hoffman family.”

He kept hold of her hand. “Well, I think I owed you one.” He studied her face, and she wondered what he was looking for. “Nora...I'd hate it if I lost you, right when I found you again.”

His words bypassed her ears and went straight to her throat and stuck there in a thick lump. The prickling behind her eyes scared her. One kind sentence from him and she was on the verge of tears? She was taking pathetic to a new level.

“Hey.” His smile lightened the mood. “Do you think me rescuing you from a cattle truck can cancel out the other night? With the horses?”

He looked so hopeful that she had to smile back. “I don't know... I've been around you just a few times, and I've almost died twice. Maybe there's a message in that somewhere.”

“I hope not.” His gaze locked on to hers and she saw it then, the regret and the remnants of the feelings she'd been sure he no longer had. It wasn't safe to see them. He'd taught her, long ago, that two people could name a feeling love. It didn't mean the feelings they had were the same.

She should look away, but the tenderness she saw in him stilled her and she couldn't. He reached up with his free hand and his knuckles brushed her cheekbone, the softest touch, just once.

“Hey, your horse is loose.” The driver's voice broke through the moment and she turned to see Abby nibbling at some weeds several yards away.

She started after the mare, grasping at the chance to put space between her and Todd. “What do you say, cowboy?” she called to him over her shoulder. “Should we unload some cattle?” She took up the reins and led the horse back to her rescuer.

“If you'd told me back in college that you'd ever be saying those words to me, I'd have been pretty surprised.” He grinned and the warmth in his expression hit her veins like a shot of whiskey.

“Well, it's like you said earlier. You never know what's going to happen, right?”

Todd reached for the reins and walked Abby a few paces away, then put his foot in the stirrup and swung up on her back. Then he turned the mare to face her. “I guess not. But you know what, Nora? I'm glad it's happening. Whatever it is, I'm glad.”

He pressed his calves gently into Abby's sides and walked her around the back of the truck to where they'd agreed he'd wait, in case a heifer escaped or there was any trouble. Nora watched him, admiring the easy way he sat on his horse. Then she turned to the driver, who was watching her with mild curiosity. “Okay, let's get these cattle unloaded so you can get on with your day.”

“Sure,” he said, handing her the clipboard. “Just sign here, please.” And she did, wondering, as her pen slid across the paper, what other complications besides cattle had just entered her life.

* * *

T
ODD
WAS
PRETTY
sure he was seeing Nora for the first time. The real Nora. Not the Nora he'd thought he'd known in college, though she'd been pretty amazing back then. But Nora as she was meant to be, riding his horse with an ease only a childhood in the saddle could create. Nora laughing as she turned his mustang on a dime and used her rope to shoo a cow back in line.

The Nora he'd known in college had been quiet and studious and tired from the many jobs she'd worked. He'd rarely seen her laugh like this, so happy, so present.

The Nora he'd known had brown hair that hung to her waist in lengths she ironed board straight. This Nora's hair was flying out behind her in sun-tinged tangles. Her big gray eyes had been serious in college, their expression guarded. Since they'd met again he'd seen her eyes flashing in anger, wary with cynicism, warm with humor and sparkling with excitement. He liked this new, more complicated Nora.

She'd talked him into letting her ride Abby, even though the buckskin was still pretty jittery, getting used to her new domesticated life. He'd been a little nervous, but he needn't have been. Nora rode far better than he did.

“We're almost there!” she called to him, bringing the heifer back into line with the others. Up ahead he saw the open gate, old and rusty but rehung and functional. A shiny new trough was just inside the pasture. Wade had told him about the new water tank they'd installed and the pipes he'd laid to get ready for the start of his herd.

He walked Edward, the gelding he'd brought along with Abby, over to the far side of the gate, and held him back just a little. The cattle funneled in easily, tired from their road trip, no doubt. A few headed for the trough and the rest fanned out to the piles of hay.

Todd nudged Edward up and waved an arm to send the last few heifers in. Nora brought Abby next to the gate and sidestepped the mare to close it, sliding a chain around and fastening it with a padlock. When she glanced up she must have seen the questioning look on his face, because she flushed under the brim of her straw hat. “You never know who might want to help themselves to a few cows,” she said. “I should know...my family made a habit of it.”

“I've heard a little about that at my shop the past few days.”

“I can imagine the tales they're telling.” She looked past him, at the mountains beyond. Something tainted her light words with sadness. Or maybe it was just the harsh light of the midday sun out here. It did things to you, living in the quiet starkness of the high desert. It made you see the slightest changes, read more into the smaller details.

He followed her gaze to the peaks looming over the ranch. The Hoffman place was idyllic, if you ignored the piles of junked cars and machinery, the falling-down fences and the decaying farmhouse. It was nestled against where the dry hills met the sheer cliffs—where the mountains had pushed themselves right up out of the desert plains.

He'd read that the mountains were still growing, still being pushed by geologic forces. He sometimes wondered if that was what gave this area such a raw and powerful feel. He'd felt it the moment he'd stepped out of his car three years ago, some kind of primitive magic in the air, a sense that the land was alive and evolving.

“They're amazing, aren't they?” Nora murmured, and he glanced over at her, struck by the reverence in her expression. “I love the way the light hits the rock and casts so many shadows. The view looks different depending on the time of day.”

He remembered, suddenly, their first camping trip together. Spring break sophomore year, they'd taken his car to the top of the Sierras. They'd parked at an entrance to the Pacific Crest Trail, donned backpacks and hiked for days. He'd been so content up there, so amazed by the mountains and the scenery and his beautiful, brilliant girlfriend. It had been an idyllic time, before he'd known too much, felt too much, needed, so badly, to try to make up for the damage his family had done. It had felt soft, sheltered and perfect—a little like this moment.

Nora nudged Abby into a walk. “Thank you for all of your help today,” she said as Todd guided Edward forward so they rode side by side on the dirt track that led back to the barn. “I can't believe I fell off the chute like that...”

“It happens,” he broke in. He didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to relive the moment when he'd almost lost her, again. “Glad I was there to help out.”

“Me, too. Let me know if Wade and I can return the favor. If you need an extra hand at your place, I'm sure my brother can help once his shoulder is mended.”

“Actually, I was wondering if
you
could lend me a hand.” The words were out almost before he realized he was saying them.