Dog Wood Bride

by Jillian Hart

  It's over and you're past it. You're safe, he reminded himself and looked at the land around him as a concrete reminder of that fact. A new life was dawning. This was the beginning of something grand and that meant the past was another day behind him.

  What if it he couldn't win Skye's good opinion and she said no? He knew she would need the money. A faint hope took hold. Unstoppable hope, and he held onto it as hard as he could. The back of his neck tingled and he spun around.

  No gunmen in the grass, no jealous would-be-suitor, but the woman herself waltzed his way. She was a slender silhouette against a world of green grass and periwinkle cloud-streaked sky.

  "I'm back after spoiling Orville up a bit with extra grain. Then I had to give the same to everyone else, including your gelding." She swept closer, looking dear, with her arms wrapped around a ceramic water jug. "You've kept busy while I slipped off to spoil the horses."

  "I like to make myself useful."

  "I like that in a man. So much so, that I brought you something cool to drink. Hope you like lemonade."

  "I happen to be partial to it." He set aside his hammer. "Thank you, Skye. That's awful nice of you."

  "I also like to make myself useful."

  They smiled together, and he could not resist or ignore the change in the speed of his heart, beating faster, then slower.

  He would have taken the heavy jug from her, but she slipped it into the cool shady grass near the corner post. Watching her, he whipped his hat off his head, ran his hand through his hair and wished the past didn't feel so close, even as a memory.

  She enchanted him. He tried to resist the tug she made on his heart, but he was helpless, just a man, starting to fall.

  He hadn't expected that, or the kick in his groin as she gave a twirl in the soft kiss of the breeze. Her dress twisted and swirled around her slender, well-shaped form.

  I'm completely helpless, he thought. As if on my knees and unable to stand. The power she had over him was too much.

  She laughed as her stallion moseyed out of the back door of his stall and came over to nibble her collar, making her laugh.

  "Orville! That tickles. I swear, he never leaves me alone. Mr. Horse Trainer, do you have a remedy for that?"

  "There's no cure for love." No truer words have been spoken, unless it was to turn that love into lust. And then where would he be?

  She was like a dream, and because of his tragedy he thought he'd lost the opportunity for all dreams, all happiness of any kind. So much so, he'd stopped looking and hoping.

  Sometimes life comes around to that great wound and, if you've done things right in life (as he'd always done), you get a second chance.

  And if that's what this was, I am not going to mess it up. Not a chance of that. He watched Skye kiss her horse's forehead over the fence before whirling away from him with a flounce of skirts, a whip of her hair, and take the sun with her.

  "Thanks for the lemonade!" he called out.

  She spun around, walking backward. "The least I can do for my new employee."

  "Employee? Are you still mistaken about that?"

  She kept sweeping away from him. "Probably, but we'll see how this goes. I'm in charge of this place."

  "But you need me, or you would have fenced this meadow yourself long ago."

  "I was hoping you wouldn't have thought of that."

  "I might be smarter than I look."

  "I don't doubt that. I think I'm going to like having you here." The smile and acceptance in her soft soprano floated back to him as she disappeared around the corner of the barn and out of his sight.

  But the warmth she left behind lingered, and her goodness burned bright.

  As did his desire for her.

  It's a good sign he was dreaming again. It couldn't be wise, to start wishing, to hope his problems were all in the past. That a normal, hopeful life could be ahead for him instead.

  He ambled over to the corner post to fetch the jug she'd left, and he caught a glimpse of her swishing through the newly blooming dandelions in the grass. The flowering trees seemed to rustle and whisper just for her as she breezed by. A gust sent a few colorful pink petals feathering through the air, like precious snowflakes gracing her.

  The sunshine seemed to cling to her, as if all nature adored her, too.

  He wasn't alone in that, after all. He stood, as if no longer in shadow, with the tendrils of the past not unforgotten.

  He'd never wanted anything in life as much as he did her.

  * * *

  Skye squinted in the early morning brightness as she carried the basket and pail up the rise.

  A week had passed since Brennan had started the fence, and she hadn't been able to manufacture much of an excuse to talk to him.

  He kept to himself at the bunkhouse, and she'd been busy getting her sister ready for her summer back home, where two handsome men were interested in being her suitors.

  There was shopping to do, catalogues to pour over and time to spend together. She had the hollow sense in her stomach that this carefree time spent with her sister would come to an end, if one of these two kindly men would work into a serious courtship.

  It had been a long week, but neither she nor her two hired workers had mentioned if there were any other problems in the field with trespassers or men like Judson being where they shouldn't be.

  She shivered, still unable to rid herself of that bruised and wounded feeling of being grabbed by him in the saloon. That's why she was doubly grateful to have Brennan Mosley around.

  There he was, sitting on one of the wooden beams crossing from corner post to corner post, driving nails into the wood Claude held steady for him.

  The new building was still two by fours and timbers but stood impressive against the stunning stretch of blue sky.

  It wasn't nearly as impressive as the man, she decided. Nothing and no one could be. The small bandage snowy white against his bare arm was the only reminder of any imperfection at all.

  She let her eyes savor the sight of his muscled bare chest lightly dusted with dark hair and his rock-hard muscled shoulders and arms. His denim trousers clung to his hips and legs, showing off his muscles.

  She couldn’t imagine that any woman in a hundred mile radius wouldn't die for a glimpse of him shirtless, in his half-naked glory.

  Her heart gave a little bump against her ribs and she ignored the heated place her body had become. Whatever overheated state she felt, she blamed on the blaze of the sun and the heat of the day.

  And not her powerful attraction to the man.

  It wasn't easy ignoring the masculine image he made as he wielded a hammer. Bam, bam bam! The sound of the nail being driven home reverberated across the yard and the meadow where the horses grazed.

  However was she going to resist him now? She gazed up at the tough renegade, at his charming grin and slight, character wrinkles hugging the corner of his eyes, so very attractive.

  He hadn't spotted her yet, so she took her fill of the sight of him bare chested. His sun-kissed, sun-bronzed skin showed every delineation of muscle, every ridge, every bit of strength and power.

  What a sight, what a man. She wished she could ignore the tenderness she felt filling up her heart.

  "It looks good on this part of the beam!" Abe, her brother, called out from the other end of the barn under construction. "We are nice and plumb. Let's get 'er nailed in!"

  "Uh oh, we've got a woman in the vicinity," Forrest, her cousin, shouted above the hammering, nodding in her direction. "Brennan, someone is here to see you."

  17

  "Guess it's time for a break." Brennan drove in a final nail. "It's good to see you, Skye. That basket you're carrying sure looks wonderful. It's already appreciated."

  "Is that right? Well, since I was coming out this way to sneak a look at your progress, I thought you all might want a coffee break." Best not to look at his bare chest damp with sweat and bronzed by the sun. Muscles rippled as he reached down for the nail bucket Cla
ude held up to him.

  It was impossible to forget what she felt and as the days went by, she thought she would forget the way Brennan had touched her and held her against him. But that memory seemed greater and grander every time it popped into her mind.

  Especially the remembered weight of his arm around her shoulder. The male-hot comfort of his solid body, the protective way he'd talked to her, and his tender kiss to her temple all taunted her now.

  The trouble, she realized, was his bare naked torso. If he had kept his shirt on, then she wouldn't be as mesmerized by him. Once again, it was all his fault.

  At least, that's what she told herself. She went up on tiptoe and handed up the wicker basket. "Looks like you are ready to start building the rafters."

  "I'd say yes, that's next." His fingers grasped the handle on the far side of the basket so their fingers didn't touch. He, as well, was careful to keep distance.

  Didn't that speak volumes?

  "We have a lot of work to do getting the rafters built and up. What do you think of my work so far?"

  "I think you're fantastic. I've got an employee who will do what I want."

  "I'm not your employee, but I do aim please." Brennan paused to hand off the basket to Forrest.

  Her cousin reached across from one beam to the other to accept the basket. His amiable face knit into an approving grin. "Skye, I'm glad you finally found a good man to hire."

  "I'm not so good," Claude joked. "This really isn't my expertise, but I can be supervised."

  Forrest laughed. "I'm glad you're here, Brennan. I'm concerned about Skye being here all alone, even with her sister here. With you two men living here, I figure anyone thinking of making mischief might think twice when they see you coming their way."

  No doubt about that, she thought as she handed up the crock of lemonade. Brennan was intimidating. "I'm glad you're lending a hand, Forrest, thank you. Are you going to be staying all day?"

  "That's my plan. I promised my wife that I would help out."

  "We'll get twice the work done if you do," Brennan said. He paused to drink from the crock. "I may have managed to avoid marriage so far in my life, but I've learned a few things. One is never to make your wife unhappy."

  His good-natured wink made Skye smile.

  "I wouldn't dream of it," Forrest said with good humor. "She doesn't mind that I'm here. Why don't you hand up that board, Abe?"

  "I can smell what's in that basket. Don't tell me that's pumpkin bread." Brennan drew her attention.

  "You guessed right," she said.

  "I was hoping you'd say that. It's my favorite." His voice might be iron-tough, but she remembered the tenderness he'd shown her when they'd been alone.

  Her entire being softened. Melted.

  At least he was too busy to notice her shiver. He'd been quiet and stoic since that last morning he'd hugged her.

  Maybe it was a sign. He was letting her know how he felt.

  Important not to ever forget that again.

  Her heart stung, aching up a storm. She could just leave, as she'd had on several days before, but as she went to turn away a blur of black movement caught her attention. Something dark swooped down from the beam where Brennan perched.

  A Stetson! She snared his wide-rimmed hat mid-air and handed it back up to him. He thanked her warmly but avoided her gaze.

  Concentrate on what you can count on, Skye, she told herself. And she was grateful her long-held second-best dream was now moving forward.

  She had a quiet life where no one knew her past, a pleasant place to live with beautiful views to soothe the soul and a life with horses. It would have to be enough.

  What would it be like one day when this barn was full? Her heart filled, as she imagined big and roomy box stalls.

  This really was exciting. She could almost touch the future of her dreams, the one she had to settle for. Well, second prize wasn't so bad.

  She would never be a wife and ma, that was one dream that had vanished before she'd moved here. But horses, now that was a dream she could buy, and therefore build. It was something to fill her heart and keep at bay the loneliness that came from being unloved.

  "I can help." She tipped her head back to study the beams overhead, where the hayloft would sit. She squinted at Brennan pulling a slice of pumpkin bread out of the basket. "Is there anything I can do?"

  "I don't know, is there?" Brennan chewed thoughtfully, watching her as if amused. "Can you hammer?"

  "Not particularly. I used one once and put a dent in the wall when I was attempting to hang a picture."

  "I won't say that's a job well done. So, you are not an excellent wielder of a hammer. Can you saw?"

  "No, but my vision is pretty good," she quipped.

  It was a joke that fell flat. She felt Brennan's gaze as soft as a brush to the side of her face, but when she looked up at him, he'd turned away.

  Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

  "If you can't hammer and saw, then what can you do to help?" A dimple cut into his lean cheek when he attempted to smile.

  Do not be charmed by that dimple, she ordered to herself. Or the grin. "I'm not sure I would be any help at all, but I had to offer."

  "The basket of treats and the jug of lemonade was help enough."

  Forrest talked around a mouthful of pumpkin bread. "This is really good, Skye. It always seemed impossible that you would turn out to be a good cook or baker at all growing up."

  "I know just what you mean. After the kitchen fire when I was ten, oh, nothing major," she assured Brennan, "but Forrest would remember all the kerfuffle over the replacement of the cabinets."

  "Like I said, it's a wonder."

  "I can't disagree. Things are looking up. They are changing for the better in that I've never had to replace my cabinets since."

  "I'm really delighted." Forrest shook his head. "You've got your hands full here, Brennan. You can't be feint of heart if you have to deal with Skye in any capacity."

  "It's true." His gaze slid to the man adjusting his black hat. "I almost feel sorry for you, having such a cousin."

  "Many fine people do, so I'm used to it." His gaze filled with both warmth and sorrow.

  "Me, too." Skye cleared her throat and tore her gaze away from him. It was a reminder that everyone had their troubles. Even good man went through hardship.

  And the resulting fierce, stubborn warmth in her heart was a bad sign. She cared too much for the man, and she blinked, turning away.

  "Maybe I'll just head back to the house. This new barn is looking great. Thank you, Brennan."

  "Not a problem. It's my pleasure. It will keep me busy. Thanks for the morning treats."

  "I was happy to do it." She forced cheer into her voice and her feet to carry her away as if her emotions were not too close to the surface, as if her heart wasn't too open and vulnerable.

  She blinked away tears that surprised her. For a lot of years she'd been the one keeping their family reputation in poor standing. She'd endured a lot of loneliness for it. And sorrow.

  The life she should have led and what trusting the wrong man had once cost her haunted her with every step back to her house. To her house here, in Wyoming Territory, where she wasn't looked upon by anyone as less than worthy human being.

  She would do better keeping her feelings buried and focus on what she could do with the life she had. She had a lovely two-story home, plenty of room for family to visit, and the prettiest view she'd ever seen.

  Such an endless blue sky, she thought. Today the rim of the mountain range shone like purple majesty against the infinite blue. Rolling fields and foothills painted in shades of green stretched as far as she could see.

  It was a good life here. Not the same as she'd once had, but then she liked Wyoming Territory, and she tried not to think of her old sorrows.

  But she could never forget what letting herself care for the wrong man, and to care too quick, had cost her. Never again, she'd thought, and that had been easy unt
il now.

  Good thing Brennan wasn't interested in any way. Which meant her unexamined feelings for him needed to stay that way.

  She had the horses to think about. Her family to keep as happy as she could. Loneliness to keep at bay.

  "There's only one way you can help." Brennan stood up, towering against the background of sky and sun. Invincible. Handsome enough to stop her heart. "You can heft that heavy beam for me and hand it up."

  "I'm absolutely sure I can't lift it, and I won't be a help to you if I tried." She squinted up at him, breathless and trying not to show it. "Maybe I just wanted to show my appreciation by offering."

  "Maybe I appreciate that very much. What's on your schedule for today? More horse spoiling?"

  "That's always a top priority, but I'm taking my sister to town later on. We have shopping plans. Hey, I could pick up more nails or something for you."

  "I'll have Claude bring you a list if we do. I saw you out there sweet-talking the wild horse herd."

  "I'm working on my sweet-talking skills and it seems to be working. Too bad that doesn't help with my human communication skills," she joked. "Otherwise, I might have a husband by now."

  "I'm shocked that men aren't lining up with their hats in hand and hearts on their sleeve."

  "I'm not shocked at all by their absence. Look at me! At my advanced age, I'm not so much to look at anymore." Painful, but when she made light of it, the humor eased away that old, familiar ache. "The trouble is I'm not just looking for any man, but real love."

  "Real love is rare to find." Brennan didn't return her good humored grin. "And a fool who thinks you're not beautiful at any age is not worth mentioning."

  "No wonder I like you, telling me false flattery like that. I'm keeping you around if I can." She did her best to take a step back and keep the sad out of her voice. "The trouble is that I'm not looking for a man. I'm sure I will never find one. This is just being realistic."

  "Or a glass-is-half-empty kind of person," Abe looked up from his hammer to add. "That's why I try to look out for you, too. It's not good for a woman to be so alone and on her own, and maybe if things get desperate, we can always pay a man to marry you."