by Jillian Hart
"It was nothing. Just doing right by K— Howie." He caught himself in time, his gaze trailing back to the woman at the front counter. He'd lay down his life for her.
"Too bad you and Howie left when you did. You would have witnessed Left-Hand Louie tossing him out of the saloon. A lot of tempers are flying now that folks know Tannen's been cheating. 'Course that doesn't mean he always wins. He might not be welcome in this town like he used to be."
"I find it hard to believe he was welcome at all."
"True enough." Beauregard cracked a smile.
"Are you the sheriff?" Fred hopped up to ask. "That's a real nice badge."
"Thanks, kid. Do you want to be a lawman when you grow up?"
"No. I'm gonna be a wrangler like Dakota. I'm gonna tame all the wild horses."
"Is that so?" The sheriff was interrupted by the mercantile door swinging open and the lovely woman standing there.
"There you two are, gabbing when you could be making yourself useful." Kit crossed the threshold, a package in hand and laughter lighting her up. "Here, carry this for me, kid. Dakota, bring the wagon around back. That's the easier way to load up the water tubs."
"Will do." He tipped his hat to her, captivated. There was no other word for it. She spun around, her braid swinging down her back as she marched back into the store. For a moment she was all he could see—just her.
"Good luck with that, Outlaw." The sheriff's voice came as if from far, far away.
"Thanks." He shook his head, trying to break the spell. The lawman clomped away, his spurs jangling with his gait. Dakota let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
Didn't look like the sheriff would ever remember him. A lot of details from the war had faded, those details too painful to want to remember. Maybe it was like that for Beauregard.
Relieved, Dakota turned on his heels, heading for the wagon. They'd load up and go home.
"Wait a minute there, Outlaw." Beauregard had turned around and was coming his way. "You do look familiar, like I've seen you before. For the life of me, I can't place you."
Dakota stopped, closed his eyes, and hung his head. It took all his courage to face the man. "I hear that a lot."
"You're not a wanted man, are you?"
"No, I promise you that." He'd served his time, had his sentence commuted for his military service. He was a free man. "You won't find me on a wanted poster hanging in your office."
"Not that I've met a man who would admit it, if he was." Beauregard shrugged in an oh, well gesture. "It wasn't the army, was it?"
A knife to his heart. Dakota fumbled with the reins. He didn't have it in him to outright lie. "Maybe."
"Those were hard times. I can't place you, young man. I feel like I should. Guess it doesn't matter." Friendly now, acceptance in that hard-as-stone voice.
Dakota stared at the hitching post trying to free the tangle the reins had become. Blue leaned over and nibbled his neck, like a show of sympathy. He handed the leather straps up to Fred, hunkered down on the wagon seat.
"Losing the war was tough." Beauregard's throat worked. "Came west to get away from it all. Only to find a different sort of war. See you around, Outlaw."
Dakota nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He climbed up beside Fred, watching the lawman disappear between buildings. Yes, he suspected Beauregard, like him, just wanted to forget.
Maybe that's the way it would stay.
He took the reins from Fred and released the brake. The horses lunged, pulling them forward down the street and into the shadowed alley.
Kit waved to them from the back of the mercantile, standing beside a stack of water tubs and holding an envelope in her hand. "Fred, I have a surprise for you. Guess what this is."
"A letter from Pa?" Fred hopped to his feet before the wagon was stopped. "Oh, boy. When's he comin' back to visit?"
"In a few weeks," she answered, handing him the letter to read. "And he sent money. Guess this means you can pick out a new hat. I think it's time you have a real Stetson."
Dakota set the brake, rising from the seat. She made him reel. The flutter of her dress, the bounce of her braids, the sheer sunny glory of her—breathtaking. He'd seen enough of the dark side of humanity, of war and injustice and prejudice. That wounded part of him hungered for peace and beauty and goodness.
No wonder he yearned for her. He had no doubt he always would.
* * *
"I can't wait to get started." Mindy held up the length of fabric. The yards and yards of sky blue calico matched her eyes perfectly. "It's going to be so pretty."
"Are you kidding? It's going to be beautiful on you." Kit unwrapped the flannel she'd picked out for shirts. Blue for Fred, black for Dakota. She rubbed her thumb across the material, letting herself dream a little.
Maybe a lot.
"I know the mustangs are important, but maybe after the round-up...?" Mindy left the last part of her question unspoken.
"We'll start sewing the day after tomorrow. I promise." She still needed to worry about shoes, but prices were better in Gold Dust City. That would have to wait until they made a trip for more lumber. This house would need a roof and walls before the cold weather came. "We have Dakota to help with the horses, so I'll have more time to do things like sew."
"Fred saw you kissing him." Mindy pulled matching spools of blue thread from the package. "Are you sure you like him enough to kiss him?"
"Very sure." Her face heated. She didn't know how to talk about vulnerable feelings.
Maybe Mindy understood the silence. "He's really good to horses. He's always patient with them. And look how nice he is to Fred. That takes doing."
"Yes, it does." They laughed together at their inside joke. Their affection for their baby brother went unspoken, too, but not unfelt.
She spotted him through the frame where a glass window would one day go, his new black Stetson matching the same angle as Dakota's hat. Fred adored the horseman.
She did, too. Shirt off, sun gleaming on his chiseled chest and shoulders, he held a long line in one hand. He chirruped to Honey, and she walked forward confidently, watching him with her dark eyes.
"That's a good girl," his deep voice soothed, signaling to her. "Get up, now. Let's see your trot."
Honey obeyed, moving in a big circle, head up, beauty in motion.
"Fred, come on over here," Dakota called. "Come take the line."
"Me? Really! Oh, golly." Fred ran to him, vibrating with excitement. "What if I do it wrong and she gets away?"
"You won't. I'm right here." Dakota kept hold of the rope, Fred seized it, too, and they stood together, man and boy, training the mare.
If she didn't already love him, that would have won her heart.
A new set of horse hooves echoed in the yard. Kit poked her head out the door for a better view. A man about her age rode up on a little spotted gelding and dismounted.
"Uh, howdy Miss." He tipped his hat, revealing red hair, looking nervous. "I don't mean to barge in, but I live at the same boardinghouse as Baldy, and over our noon meal he said Howie was gonna be roundin' up some mustangs."
"We are." She saw Dakota secure Honey's line and head her way. "We could use some help. What kind of experience do you have?"
"I've worked for two ranches in these parts. I've done real well, mostly stable and field work. Tannen fired me a few weeks back when I wouldn't shoot at the wild mustangs. They were gettin' into the cut hay." He paled when Dakota strolled up. "Hi there, Mr. Outlaw."
"What's your name?" Dakota asked, hands in his pockets, sizing up the newcomer.
"Folks call me Red. I was hopin' I could lend a hand with the round-up, and after you see how hard I work, you might hire me. Tannen refused to pay what was due me, and I'm in a bad way. I work hard, got my own horse, and I'm good with critters. You wouldn't have to pay me much."
"Let's see how it goes." Dakota nodded. "In the mean time, we can feed you three meals a day. What do you say, Kit?"
"How can I say no? Why don't you water your horse, Fred will show you the way."
"Thank you, Miss. I appreciate it, Mr. Outlaw. You won't be sorry." Red led his horse across the yard. Fred bounded up to ask the horse's name and the three of them arrowed toward the shady creek.
"Since when are you in charge of hiring?" She arched a brow, playful, retreating to the side of the house in shadow.
"Since I noticed how hungry that kid looked. He's probably getting by on one meal a day." It took one to know one. He'd been short on cash more times in his life than he cared to count. He knew what it was like to go long stretches between meals. "We can use another rider. Keep Mindy in the house. We don't know Red, and I want her to be safe."
"I'll tell her. Where do you think you're going? I want to change your bandage."
"It's nearly healed. I hardly feel it anymore."
"Come here, Mr. Outlaw." Her coy smile overrode any resistance he could make.
Since no one could directly see them, he wrapped his arms around her, curved her body to his and dropped a kiss on her mouth. He felt her melt, giving herself up to his kiss. Her mouth went tender. Her hands clutched his shirt. He kissed her with all the gentleness he was capable of.
He had to believe that he'd never have to let her go.
The plodding gait of more horses ambled up the driveway and he pulled apart from her. Dewayne on a meek little buckskin rode into view. Alongside him was a man with an eye patch on a fine black and white pinto.
"We heard about the round-up." Dewayne stopped his buckskin and dismounted with a creak of fine leather. "Me and One Eye came to help."
"Have you been on a round-up before?" Dakota asked.
"No, but I'm good at following directions."
"I've been on one," One Eye answered. "How about you, Outlaw? What qualifications does an outlaw have?"
"I'm a wrangler. I've ramrodded several in my day, and rode in a handful more."
"Can't do better than that." One Eye adjusted his patch. "Outlaw fits you better."
"We aren't the only ones coming to help." Dewayne gestured toward the road. "Baldy, Skinny and Zeb are right behind us. We all wanted to help Howie and his family get a good start here."
That meant more than she could say.
She wasn't alone with Dakota until long after dark. There were horses to tend, supper to fix for a crowd and campfire songs to sing. After coffee and apple cobbler, Skinny brought out his deck of cards and a few of the men played in the light of the fire, making penny bets. It looked like fun, but she had dishes to wash and dry.
Mindy was the first to yawn, and Kit ushered her and Fred off to bed in the house. The little boy couldn't settle down to sleep, but he agreed to listen quietly from his bed until she came to get him to leave for the round-up. She sat with him until he drifted off, then she bolted the wood door Dakota had made out of scrap lumber, and went to check on Blue.
"I've stabled him for the night." Dakota moved out of the shadows. A frog's ribbit sang out from the creek bed.
"Thanks. I noticed you put Honey in her stall earlier."
"She was nervous around so many people." He hooked an arm over her shoulder, drawing her close. "So is Renegade. At least she's stopped trying to tear down the fence."
"She'll have company tomorrow."
"And they'll all try to tear down the fence." He smiled into her hair. "We've gone over the plan for tomorrow. Are you ready to ride with me?"
"I've been waiting forever." She pressed against him, soft curves and womanly heat. Before he could act on it, more guests rode into sight. The Masons.
"Effie is going to stay with Mindy. I want to get her settled," Kit explained as she dashed away.
He wanted her in his bed tonight. He wanted her naked and vulnerable against him, to caress and taste every inch of her creamy flesh until she was breathless with need for him. He couldn’t wait to ease his way inside her, to join them as one, and love her until the dawn's light found them.
He craved that joining with such force, his vision blurred. He felt ready to shatter. It wasn't physical desire alone that threatened to undo him. It was his love for her.
Chapter Seventeen
With Mrs. Mason camped out in her bed, Kit found the floor uncomfortable. She rolled over one more time, stared up at the ceiling, frustrated, because she knew what her problem was. Dakota. She wanted to be in his arms. Judging by the moonlight moving across the canvas, it was two, maybe three in the morning. With her body burning, how on earth was she going to get any more sleep?
Maybe a trip to the creek would help. A little cold water might cool her down. As long as she didn't wake up the nearly dozen men bedded down by the dark campfire. Already dressed, she tiptoed across the floor, opened the door and stepped into moonlight.
The nearly full moon smiled down at her, casting a path of wan light across the yard. Men snored, deep in sleep, and the sheriff, who'd come late, woke up as she crept by and settled back to sleep. She looked for Dakota, but didn't see him. Maybe he'd stayed closer to the corral to make sure the lone mare and foal were safe from any hungry predators.
She felt watched as she knelt by the stream and splashed water on her face. It didn't help. There was a fire of need inside her, burning for him.
She felt the brush of his presence and turned instinctively toward him. He looked good in moonlight, wide shoulders braced, a Winchester in one hand, his Stetson crowning his head. He was everything she'd never believed a man could be. Everything a man ought to be.
They met in the field, just the two of them and an owl swooping by. Shivers trickled down her spine and settled deep inside her. She'd never been more aware of him as a man.
"The mustangs are by the spring." He fisted his hands in the loose cloth of her flannel shirt and pulled her into him. "Isn't everyone going to think of Howie when they see you dressed like this?"
"I didn't want a dress to slow me down."
"One day, luck will be against you and your secret will be out."
"Not unless Tannen tells, and I don't think he will. He'll have to admit a girl beat him at a game of cards. Besides, I really like Baldy and the guys."
And maybe she felt a little closer to her father when she was with them, he figured.
"I like them, too. They tried to help you out with Tannen, and they're here tonight. Good friends do that."
"Yes, they do." She cut her gaze sideways to him. "Does that make you a good friend?"
"After last night, I think it makes me more. What do you say?"
"Possibly."
"Just possibly? Not surely?"
"I'm definitely not certain about you, Mr. Black."
He kissed her like he meant it. A mild breeze sang through the dried grasses like a lover's song.
She sighed when their kiss ended. "I wish we were truly alone."
"I wish a lot of things." He pressed a kiss against the side of her head, near her temple, breathing in her strawberry soap scent, pressing her against his heart. "Are you clear on the plan?"
"Absolutely. I'm excellent with plans." She tromped through the tall grasses toward the barn. "With so many riders, we'll have a better chance of getting most of the herd."
"It's enough to hope. Half of what we need, but as long as you and I have the stallion, it's likely the mares will follow."
"I can't believe this." She opened the barn door. "It's really happening. I feel like a horse rancher already."
"Wait until you're in the middle of the herd bringing them home." He knuckled back the brim of her hat.
A powerful heat flowed through her, quivering low in her belly as her gaze met his. His naked gaze was bared to her of all pretense or defense, and it felt as if he'd penetrated her, although that made no sense, as if they were flesh to flesh, joined as one. She didn't know intimacy could be emotional, too. She wanted him in all ways.
She knew he wanted her, too. His rapid intake of breath. His pulse strumming at the base of his throat. The deep pools his eyes
had become.
"C'mon," he said. "Let's go catch your dreams."
* * *
The mustangs slept in the protected draw, the stallion drowsing on all fours. They looked mythical in the moonlight, brushed with silver and shadows. Kit's heart swelled as she watched them, stretched out on her stomach. Dakota, beside her, held up his hat and waved it.
Far out on the prairie, careful not to make a sound, Red's hat waved back. He, Fred and Baldy were in place.
Dakota crept back from the ridge and rose soundlessly to his feet. His hand caught hers and helped her up.
"We still have the advantage of surprise." He held Blue's reins for her.
"That's a good sign." She shook out her lasso, tested the knot and coiled it up. Her palms were damp beneath the gloves. Excitement tripped through her.
"Let's ride." Dakota settled in his saddle, lasso in hand, reins tied together and resting on Jack's neck, and sent him flying.
He rode like a warrior, barely holding the reins, double lassos hanging from his saddle horn. He clung to the horse with his knees, sitting as if he'd been born to ride. Born for this. The exhilaration she felt galloping down the ridge with the wind in her face was nothing compared to him.
The stallion below bolted awake, spotting them charging down the grassy slope. His shrill neigh of alarm woke his slumbering herd. Mares jerked awake, called out to their young and lunged to life, running away from danger. But more riders appeared, with Fred in the middle, to block their way. Pop, pop, pop. Red sent a few harmless shots into the air to send them circling back to the draw.
Kit rode toward the swarm with Dakota at her side. The stallion and his herd raced closer in an all-out gallop. The moon lit the scene—the dark swarm of horses, the men riding behind them and the shadowed cottonwoods blocking a quick escape.
"Stay left," Dakota shouted above the chaos.
The black stallion swung away from them, trying to escape the trap they were setting, so she shot Blue forward at full-speed. The wind whipped her face as she stood in her stirrups, fighting to keep her balance on the uneven terrain. She swung her lasso, the rope pliable in her hand. As she sighted, Blue gained on the stallion.