Maverick

by Irish Winters

  His heart stuttered. Maverick placed a hand on her back, intending to pat her once or twice, just enough to get her past this little fit. It didn’t work that way. She slid off the chair and into his lap.

  “And Mommy says I can’t keep Puppy.” Kyrie tipped her curly head back and wailed. “I hafta give him aw-a-a-a-a-a-a-y.”

  Maverick couldn’t think of anything more to say so he just rocked her in his arms in the middle of China’s kitchen floor. What the hell made Leezel so damned mean to this little tyke? Kyrie was all of thirty pounds and most of that had to be hair.

  “I want bwankie and,” she hiccupped, “and I... I want Puppy, to-o-o-o-o.”

  “There, there. How about if I keep him for you?” Maverick hugged her tight. “I’ll feed him. You play with him. Sound like a deal?”

  She lifted her sad face and sniffed. With her hair all fuzzy and tangled, she looked like an angel. “Ah huh. I be reawwy nice to him,” she said somberly. “I pwomise.”

  He couldn’t resist. He kissed her forehead. “I know you will. You’re a good girl, Kyrie. You want to eat breakfast outside with me?”

  That changed the subject as he hoped. In a minute, he and Kyrie were off the floor and on the front porch swing with a tray of breakfast. Kyrie blinked up at him as she chewed her French toast very daintily. “Is you a cowboy?”

  “Nah.” He took a swallow of coffee and stared across the yard. “I’m not smart enough to be a cowboy.”

  China hadn’t made her appearance for the day yet, but he doubted she was still asleep. The woman should’ve been a Marine with that crack-of-dawn, internal alarm clock of hers.

  “Hmm.” Kyrie seemed extra thoughtful. “Mommy says you is.”

  “Yeah, well...” Leezel probably said a lot of things. He changed the subject. “So where is your friend Puppy this morning? Where’d he run off to?”

  Her brows furrowed. “I don’t know. Where is he, Unca Mavwick?”

  He damned near spit his coffee. Unca Mavwick? When the hell had that happened? “He’s, umm, got to be around here somewhere. How about we look for him after breakfast?”

  “Okay.” She nodded while she chewed. “Unca Mavwick?”

  “Yes?” He rested his arm along the back of the bench and took another sip of his coffee. Uncle Maverick wasn’t so bad. It could’ve been Daddy.

  Little Kyrie’s innocence smiled up at him. “Is you gonna be my daddy?”

  Maverick looked into those honest little blue eyes. Half of him wanted to choke Leezel for shooting her big mouth off, but the other half wanted to say, ‘You bet.’ He dropped his hand to Kyrie’s shoulder.

  “Hey, you two.” China saved the day when she rounded the corner of the house. “Save some breakfast for me?”

  “Andy China!” Kyrie squealed. “Unca Mavwick made Fwench toast an’ it’s reawwy good.”

  “He did, did he?” China winked at him as she came up the stairs. “Uncle Maverick cooks, too?”

  He looked past her to the barn. “Reckon it could be worse.”

  China scooped Kyrie onto her lap, running her fingers through the child’s tangled locks. “How?”

  He deadpanned. “Could be Uncle Mav.”

  China laughed. Kyrie giggled too, but Maverick just kept sipping his coffee. There weren’t many things better than the company of two happy women, especially since he was the guy who’d put the smiles on their faces. It was one of those small things in life.

  China’s smile faded too quickly. She gazed up the hill to the shady spot beneath the trees. “I went up to the grave.”

  “Wondered where you were.”

  “X and Z did a real good job. You should take a walk up there. It’s peaceful.”

  He didn’t respond. This whole place was peaceful—now.

  “I looked for you on my way back. You’re building a dog house?”

  He lifted a brow. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

  “I don’t think she heard me.” China glanced at Kyrie, who was still busy chewing her toast. “Thank you. So what’s next?”

  He shrugged. “Guess you’re gonna eat breakfast.”

  Her smile lit up her whole face. It didn’t hurt his heart none, either. They’d crossed a line during the last week. Now when he looked at her, the connection was already made. Her smile pulled him in, and he knew exactly where they were headed. What scared him was that he’d been burned before, his heart tossed out like yesterday’s trash. Yet with China...

  His best defenses had been breached and he’d let his guard down. Truth was, he didn’t feel the need to guard against her. She had a way of restoring light in his dark world. Sunshine and the scent of Russian Olive, too. She made him want to play his guitar and sing again. She made him want to be a better man. To live.

  “Can I talk you into another horseback ride?” she asked. “I’d like to double check that fence line.”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  He set his coffee cup on the porch floor and stood to stretch. China didn’t bat her eyes or play games. She said what she meant and she meant what she said. He liked that in a woman.

  “Can Kyrie come with us?”

  Kyrie went with them.

  Leezel had gone back to bed with a migraine, or at least that was what she had said when China checked to tell her they were leaving. But China knew the way Leezel worked. She might be able to take off at a moment’s notice with Reardon, but when it came to the real, no-kidding work of caring for her only child, Leezel always had better things to do. It didn’t matter. China loved Kyrie’s company on a twenty-four seven basis, not just when she felt like it. Besides, Leezel already smelled of beer.

  For now, Kyrie sat on Star in front of Maverick. The sight made China happy. He seemed protective of the little girl and maybe a little over-attentive, too. She knew he had found the mama cat and kittens again, and thank goodness for that.

  Then there was the stray dog. Puppy followed behind the horses as if he already knew his place—with Kyrie. China didn’t need the old stray hanging around anymore than she needed the kittens, but what the heck. The hapless mutt made Kyrie happy. Puppy could stay.

  Whether he knew it or not, Maverick had a natural way with horses. The tender scene China had witnessed earlier with Star endeared him to her all the more. He fit the saddle well, but he had an authority thing going on, too. She had seen it before when he’d confronted the bikers.

  He didn’t talk much, just acted and let the pieces fall. And he helped himself to things around the ranch too, but instead of beer and loose change, Maverick was more inclined to help with squeaky doors and rain gutters. He mucked stalls and built doghouses. Not a bad work ethic for a drifter.

  China urged Ebony forward until she rode alongside Maverick and Kyrie. He automatically tipped the brim of his baseball cap to her while Kyrie waved and smiled her cute little munchkin grin. This morning she wore a small cowboy hat to protect her from the sun. She looked like a very happy cowgirl riding with a very handsome cowboy. All Maverick needed was the right kind of a hat. Not a baseball cap. No. He needed a Stetson.

  China had to look away. Just the sight of him sent her heart into a backward somersault that ended in free fall off the high dive. She had to get a grip, but on what? Even barricaded behind those darn dark glasses of his, he was irresistible.

  Despite the tragedy they’d just suffered, he offered more of those rare half-smiles every day. Maybe he did it to get her to smile, but it worked. She focused on the fence line, only the barbs knotted on the wire resembled little hearts, and little hearts brought her back to Maverick again. He had touched her heart without even trying to, or wanting to, if she remembered correctly. The tough exterior he had once presented had somehow faded into heart and soul.

  “My fence!” China scrambled off Ebony. Not only was it cut again, but also several posts were pulled out of the ground. “What the hell?”

  Maverick slid off Star with Kyrie in his arm. “Tire tracks. Here
.” He pointed to one side of the fence line. “Over there, too. Whoever did this circled around and went back down the hill the same way they came.”

  “Damn it.” China looked both directions of the fence. Sure enough, two different sets of tracks were visible, but they were irregular, not the evenly spaced tracks a four-wheeled vehicle might have made. “Those are motorcycle tracks. Damn it. Reardon did this. Do I need to post a rider on my fence line from now on?”

  BLAM!

  Lightning hot pain dug into her hip. The impact sent her flying. “Kyrie!”

  Bullets kicked up splatters of dirt beside her, but Maverick had already snatched the girl like a quarterback with a football. He dived for China and sprawled over them both. She barely had time to roll to her back before he flattened her to the ground. He dropped Kyrie beside her and maintained a push-up position, his knees at her thighs.

  Adrenaline rushed her in a shuddering wave. Kyrie whimpered. Somewhere out there, Ebony squealed. Horse hooves thrummed the hard ground. China lifted her head, needing to see where Ebony and Star had gone.

  “Stay down,” Maverick ordered, his voice harsh.

  “But I’m... I’m shot.” She clutched Kyrie shaking with the violation of the bullet in her body. “God, Maverick. Someone shot me,” she repeated because it didn’t seem real. It couldn’t be. “They tried to kill me. My… my horses.”

  “Your horses are fine. Now be still.” Anger radiated off of him. The ball cap and glasses were missing. Maverick’s pupils were black and feral, his body taut as iron. Gone was the indifferent man with the far-off gaze. Someone deadly had just stepped up to the plate.

  His gaze scrolled over her, settling on her hip and the swelling patch of burning fire that had to be there. Stinging sparks raced outward, igniting the rest of her body. His hand slid down her stomach to the wound, his gaze along with it.

  Another shot rang out. It echoed long and far.

  “They’re going to kill us,” China whined, pulling Kyrie tighter.

  “No, they’re not,” he muttered, barely lifting his head above the grass. “Not on my watch, damn ’em.”

  “God, my horses. They might shoot... Ebony. Star.”

  “China, stop it. Settle down. They won’t shoot your horses and they sure as hell won’t kill you or Kyrie.” He growled another curse and eased off of her. For a quick moment, he laid on his stomach beside her, the length of his leg touching hers from hip to boot.

  A pistol appeared in his right hand.Her brain overloaded. Where had that weapon come from? He wasn’t carrying it while he held Kyrie, was he? She honestly didn’t know anything at the moment, not why she was lying in the grass or who Maverick really was.

  “I scared,” Kyrie whimpered into her neck.

  “Shush. Uncle Maverick is here. We’re going to be okay.” Her own heart calmed. Maverick was there. He seemed to know what to do.

  He faced the opposite hill, his knees cocked to move, aiming toward the granite face on the other side of the ravine. She felt the power of a predator beside her, coiled and ready to strike back.

  He shoved up from the grass, his right hand extended and the pistol aimed. She’d barely had time to cover Kyrie’s ear with her hand when his weapon roared once. Twice. And a third time. Adrenaline thundered inside her skull. Her ears rang.

  He jumped up and all she could do was press Kyrie to her and pray he was as good a shot as he seemed to think he was. The outcropping had to be a good thousand yards away, if that was where the shooter had hidden. No one could make a shot that long with just a handgun.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “They’re gone.” Maverick crouched beside her once more. The hard look in his eye had softened. He stuck his pistol in a side holster that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, too. Who was this guy? A magician? “You’re shot. I need to see it.”

  Panic climbed up her throat. She grabbed hold of his shirt. “Reardon did this. He shot me, didn’t he?”

  Maverick clamped onto her shoulders, his fingers gently kneading her tight muscles. “Settle down, China. It wasn’t Reardon. It was some other guy on a dirt bike. I hit the bastard.”

  “You kill him?” Damn. She wanted the guy dead.

  “No. He got away. Lie still.”

  “How can you... How can you...” The shakes hit hard. She forgot what she wanted to ask. “Where’d you get the gun?”

  His eyes narrowed. “My saddlebag. Figured if you can keep a shovel, pliers, and gloves in yours, I could keep my piece in mine.”

  “Okay. Okay.” She nodded more than she needed to. “Good idea. Good. Okay. Yeah. That works.”

  “China. Settle down, honey. You’re going to be okay. I promise, but I need to look at your wound.” He drilled her with those deep browns, still asking permission and massaging her shoulder and collarbone. “Now.”

  “Okay. Okay.” She couldn’t stop shaking or talking. She had been shot. Not killed. Not hurt enough to miss the fact that he had called her honey instead of ma’am. She nodded again, trembling from the top of her head to the toes of her boots. So look, already.

  His fingers flew to her belt. He loosened the buckle and undid the snap to her jeans in two seconds flat before her common sense caught up with her. She clutched his hand to make him stop. “No. Wait. Don’t. Kyrie. Puppy.”

  Okay, so maybe Puppy didn’t care if Maverick stripped her bare right there under God and heaven, but Kyrie didn’t need to see anything more, especially if it meant blood. The girl just didn’t need any more crap in her life. She snuggled under China’s arm, holding on tight.

  “Kyrie will help me take care of Auntie China, won’t you, honey?”

  “Uh huh. I kin hewp.” She scrambled to her knees at Maverick’s side, as if she couldn’t wait to help him. Her cute little smile turned upside-down. “Oh, no. Andy China. You hurted.”

  “’S okay, Kyrie. You be a good girl and help Uncle Maverick. Listen to him, ok-k-a-yyyy?” Damn, China shook so hard her teeth chattered. She wanted to press her palm into that burning hole on her hip, but wouldn’t chance frightening Kyrie with any more blood. Or screaming.

  “I kin be a good hewper.” The pain shadowing her sweet face cut China to the bone.

  “K-k-keep her safe, damn you,” she chattered to Maverick.

  “You know I will.” He peered across the grassy landscape one more time, his fingers frozen at China’s hips. Not helpful when a woman was flat on her back with what felt like a red-hot poker in her hip.

  She writhed against the clenching pain. “Is… is someone still out there?”

  “No,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced, and neither was she. “Kyrie, stay with your aunt. Don’t let her go anywhere, okay?”

  China still clutched his hand. “Maverick, wait. I can’t... You can’t...”

  “Yes. You can. And yes. I will. I’ll be right back. Stay put.”

  She squeezed her eyes closed as he pushed off the ground. “Please stay safe,” China whispered to the breeze weaving through the tall grass. “Don’t take chances. Not with Reardon.”

  Kyrie dropped to her butt beside her. “Andy China. You is okay. I here. You wanna sing a song?”

  China closed her eyes, fighting for the patience to endure. “Sure. How about You Are My Sunshine? Remember the words?” she asked, trying desperately to act normal for Kyrie’s sake. They’d barely made it through a nervous rendition of the first verse when the steady clomp of heavy horses sounded nearby. Two long handsome faces peered down at her, their reins trailing.

  “Can you make them lie down?” Maverick asked from Star’s side.

  China winced. The pain in her hip had evolved into a biting, gnawing beast that wouldn’t let go. Every little movement hurt, even breathing. “Just tell them down, but back them off a few steps first. They’re big.”

  He did as she directed, then crouched at her side again once Star and Ebony settled to the ground between her and the ravine. “Just thought you’d feel better with them nearby.�
�

  “Liar,” she whispered. “They’re nothing but a wall to protect me, aren’t they? You think someone’s still out there.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think. I’m not taking chances.”

  Tears filled her eyes. God, she hated the thought of anything happening to Ebony or Star, but Kyrie’s safety came first. China stretched one hand toward her four-legged kids, needing to touch them. Ebony came through, his lips warm and softly nibbling her fingers. Star nickered.

  “Okay, good,” she whispered, panting hard from the simple exertion. “Good. Good.”

  Maverick knelt beside her again and took her hand in his. “Hey. Everything is going to be okay. Trust me.”

  Clutching his hand made her aware of two things: She wasn’t strong enough to stop him from doing what needed to be done, and Maverick had big hands. Big, warm, gentle hands that encompassed hers with rock-solid strength.

  He turned to Kyrie. “Sweetheart, I need you to be real brave for Auntie China. Can you do that?”

  Kyrie nodded. The fear in her eyes stabbed China almost as bad as the hole in her hip. But then Maverick made it worse. With one long reach over his head, he peeled his shirt up and off and, holy shit. China bit her lip. Not in her wildest dreams...

  He wasn’t sporting a six-pack. No. There had to be eight well-defined stomach muscles there, all drawn downward into a V that just kept going. Every speck of him was lightly dusted with dark hairs. The trail from his naval to below, well, she couldn’t begin to imagine.

  Her core tightened, something else on its mind for sure. Sex. Now? Yeah. Okay. I’m in.

  She jerked her eyes up from his belt to his chest, squared off into two carved blocks of granite with the same tight definition. Dusky man-sized nipples. Dark hair dusted, well, everything, right up to his tanned neckline. This man was damned glorious.

  He leaned over her, but this couldn’t be real. No way. She stuck her palms flat against his chest.

  “N-no,” she croaked as her palms and fingers contacted one damned solid, male body. She had to touch him to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. The body she touched was warm. Sweaty. Too damn close. Not close enough.