9 Ways to Fall in Love

by Caroline Clemmons

  “Good size.” Dallas came closer. “They won’t chase my stock or horses, will they?”

  “No, no, Señor Dallas. They are good to help with all big animals. They even get along with cats.”

  Pedro chuckled and waggled his finger at the dogs. “Do not trust them with your hens. I train them not to chase my chickens, but they don’t like it.” He shrugged. “If people weren’t around to say no, who knows what they would do.”

  “Weel, I’m thinking ‘tis a chicken dinner they’d be having.” Brendan laughed.

  Pedro laughed with him. “Sí, I fear you are right, Señor.”

  Finn stepped off the porch. “They look big enough to eat a man.”

  “Sí, they could kill a man, but not unless commanded to do so. Señor Dallas, you must be their papa now. One person must be in charge, even if others also give them orders.”

  Cenora looked up at Dallas. “Himself is that good with animals.”

  Pedro nodded. “I know this, or I would not let my babies come here to live. They are like my children.” He motioned the people to follow him. “Come, I will show you how to command them.”

  The men from the bunkhouse came out, and everyone met the two new animals. The others watched while Dallas worked with the dogs.

  Dallas said, “I figured they’d sleep in the barn.”

  Pedro nodded. “Horses will like them, so the barn is good. Some old blankets on a pile of fresh hay will make a nice bed. But they need a way to get out if the door is closed, and they hear a stranger.” He offered suggestions for feeding the dogs and their general care.

  Dallas paid Pedro, and the man bid his babies goodbye. They whined when he told them to stay, but Dallas knelt to talk to them, stroking each one on the neck. Cenora appeared at his side with a slice of bacon for each dog. The dogs wolfed down the treat then licked her fingers.

  Dallas smiled up at her. “I think you’ve made two new friends for life.”

  ****

  Long after the others on the ranch had settled down for the night, Dallas and Cenora lay side by side, the fingers of Dallas’s right hand entwined in those of her left. Outside thunder rumbled in the southwest, and he smelled moisture on the breeze. They needed the rain, for it had been a dry winter and spring.

  He exhaled, content for the moment. Would he ever get enough of this woman? He had thought by now their coupling would have grown commonplace. No matter how many times they came together, his desire for her never lessened.

  Thunder rumbled closer, and a horse whinnied in protest. A flash from a distant lightning bolt flooded the room and competed with the soft glow of the lamp.

  “You’ve drained me. I can’t move.”

  Cenora rose on her elbow. “So you’ve said many times in the past.” She trailed a finger across his chest, circled and then teased his ribs. “‘Tis my thought you might be able to stir yourself.” She slid her hand in a crazy course down his body until she cupped him.

  His flaccid manhood stiffened at her touch, and she giggled while she watched it extend and harden. Her fiery hair trailed across his chest when she moved to straddle him.

  He met her gaze and smiled. “You think it’s funny, do you, my devilish angel?” Dallas played his fingers along her satin skin.

  “No, but ‘tis pleasing I’m thinking to make you want me.” She leaned forward and nipped at his neck and shoulder.

  “Lord have mercy, woman, you have. I think about you all day.”

  Why the hell had he said that? It surprised him to acknowledge it as truth, to realize how much of the time he thought of her. But he hadn’t a clue to her thoughts. She sometimes seemed content, as now, but other times wistful or distant, and he wondered if she plotted to load her family into their wagons and leave him.

  For the present, she looked pleased and gave him a coquettish smile. “You think of me during the day? Even when you’re training the horses you love so much?”

  “Yep, I think about you and how good it feels to sink into you or have you ride me.” And not just when they came together as now, but of her smile, her walk, the sparkle of her eyes.

  “Ride you like this?” She guided him into her and settled herself until he filled her.

  Thunder rumbled and he listened, hoping it drew closer. He needed rain for the pasture grass, for the garden. And he needed this woman now.

  He groaned with pleasure and gripped her slender hips. “Exactly like this.” He lost himself as she moved with him.

  Her hands braced on his arms, she leaned back, her dancer’s body weaving like a reed in the wind as she kept pace with his thrusts.

  He slowed to make this time last and pulled her forward. “I want to see your eyes.”

  When she met his gaze, passion darkened her eyes. Her hair fell forward in a fiery curtain, shutting out the rest of the world as she hovered over him.

  He held a lock and let it spill through his fingers. “I love your hair when it drapes across me like a waterfall.”

  “’Tis why I left it free. ‘Twould be neater to braid it for sleeping.”

  He slid his hands over her bottom and up her back. How could skin remain this soft? “But we’re not sleeping. Not for a while yet.”

  “Mayhap not as long as you think.” She moved her hips, giving a little twist with each movement up and down.

  Heaven help him, she made him her slave when she did that. The wind picked up and beat against the house, and she increased her motion. Suddenly, he could wait no longer. As the wind rattled against the house, he lost himself to his own driving need.

  When he’d burst his seed into her and she collapsed against him, he held her in place with her head on his chest while his pulse slowed and the hammering of his heart decreased. She lay there, as if exhausted, then slid beside him.

  The first raindrops hit the roof overhead. He crawled from bed and pulled on his pants. Leaving her warmth created a sense of loss, but his duty to protect the house was ingrained in him.

  “I’d best check if the windows are closed.”

  “I’ll check up here, you take downstairs.”

  He took her hand. “Let’s stay together.”

  Dallas hadn’t chosen this woman, fought against the admission she had become important to him. Unable to read her thoughts, he didn’t know how to tell her he thought he might mean forever.

  ****

  The next morning, Dallas welcomed the drizzle soaking the ranch. He pulled on a slicker and headed for the barn. Bateman was due to come by tomorrow for the mare Cyclops, and Dallas wanted to run her through her training one last day. In the morning, he’d have her brushed down and looking her best before her new owner arrived.

  But when Dallas stepped outside, the dogs ran barking at an approaching rider. Two Bits and Armando came onto the bunkhouse porch and stared at the dog’s objective.

  Dallas recognized the horseman as Reno. “Val, Sol, stay boys.”

  Reno’s appearance at this hour meant trouble. He rode up to the bunkhouse, slumped forward in the saddle.

  Dallas rushed to catch him as he fell. Blood soaked the man’s left side from his shoulder to his boots and left a bloody trail in the sand. How had he stayed in the saddle this long?

  “Sling your good arm over my shoulder.” Dallas eased his left foot from the stirrup.

  “I’ll help hoist him until we get inside.” Two Bits grasped Reno’s belt to assist him in standing while they steered the injured man into the bunkhouse.

  Armando yanked the blanket off a bed while Dallas and Two Bits got Reno out of his slicker and onto the thin mattress.

  Dallas hadn’t seen so much blood in years. Not since Austin had been shot two years ago. Dallas almost shut down from the memory of Austin’s injury. He fought against the haze that threatened to overpower him. No one shot at them now. Reno needed his help, that’s all.

  Xavier rushed in and peered at Reno’s leg. “Looks bad. In spite of that bandage of bandanas, he’s lost a lot of blood. I’ll tell Rosa and th
en return.”

  Dallas tugged at Reno’s boot. “What happened? Where’s Pete?” He slit the pants fabric and cut it away from Reno’s leg.

  Reno’s voice wavered. “Damned rustlers hit us last night. Sonofabitches caught us from both sides. Pete’s trailing the bastards. Bullet grazed him and knocked off his new hat. He’s mad as hell, but he ain’t shot. They’s maybe six or seven of the bastards. Plugged one of the sorry sonofabitches, but he kept going.”

  Dallas took hold of Reno’s shirt and shoved it aside. “One bullet went through your arm. Looks like it missed the bone. Appears a slug’s lodged high in your chest.” Dang, Reno’d lost too much blood. Buckets of it from all appearances.

  Fred brought bandages. “I’ll see to him. You boys go keep Pete from getting hisself killed.”

  Reno said, “Headed northwest, bastards are driving part of the herd toward the maples and the pass.”

  “Fred, you take care of things here. Boys, pack for a long ride, and we’ll leave in fifteen minutes.” Dallas saw the indecision in the O’Neills’ faces. He didn’t need green men facing down rustlers and started to say as much, but he remembered the rifles these men used when they trailed Cenora.

  “Da, I’d appreciate it if you’d look after Ma and Cenora and see no one causes mischief while I’m gone. The dogs know you so they shouldn’t give you any trouble. Mac, Finn, you can come or stay, whichever you choose, but there’s no telling how long we’ll be gone.”

  Brendan puffed out his chest. “Aye, that I will. May God hold you in the hallow o’ his hand. And may the strength o’ three be in your journey.”

  “I’ll come.” Finn looked determined. “I’m a pretty good shot with a rifle.”

  Dallas figured Mac would relish a fight, but Mac stood with his arms crossed and the usual scowl on his face. “I’ll stay and help Da, for I’ve the Wilson’s painting to see to.”

  Dallas headed for the door. “Fred, after Rosa comes to help Reno, get the sheriff and then ride over and let Kathryn know she’s needed here.”

  Fred tossed Finn a slicker. “You’ll need this. I’ll make do with Reno’s.”

  Dallas ran to the house and strapped on his side arms. Cenora followed him through the house, firing questions. He explained what happened as he gathered food and ammunition for the journey and threw things into saddlebags. Finn rushed upstairs to grab a change of clothes and joined him in the kitchen carrying his rifle.

  “I’ll take care o’ things. Please be careful with yourselves.” Fear shone from her wide eyes.

  Dallas cupped her chin with his hand. “I’ll be all right. We both will.”

  “Aye. Himself knows how to handle this kind o’ thing, and I’ll follow his lead. We’ll be careful.” Finn grabbed one of the saddlebags and bolted from the room.

  Her lip trembled, but she raised her chin to meet her husband’s gaze. “See that you are.”

  He planted a quick kiss on her lips and turned to follow Finn.

  She called, “Don’t be making me a widow.”

  From the porch, Cenora watched her husband, brother, and the other three men gallop away. She stood motionless until they disappeared across the rolling prairie.

  Ma slid an arm around her shoulders. “They’ll be fine, lass. We’ll light a candle now and say a prayer to the saints.”

  “Ma, you should be in bed yet.” Cenora wiped her eyes. “You light the candle then rest. I’ll say another prayer on me way to do for the man who’s injured.”

  Dreary gray daylight had arrived and drizzle still fell. She wondered how the men could find any tracks after so much rain. She crossed to the bunkhouse as her father and Mac came out.

  Da said, “I would have gone, but Dallas asked me to watch over you and your ma.”

  She patted his arm. “That’s good, Da. Sure and we need you here.”

  She appreciated Dallas looking out for Da, but her younger brother shamed her. Her fists at her waist, she faced Mac. “What kept you here?”

  He wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I’ve me painting job near town soon as the weather clears. I’ve no mind to chase across the country after your buffer’s cows.”

  Disgusted, she punched his arm. “You can’t chase after anything but Vourneen. I’d think you’d grab the chance for adventure like hunting rustlers.”

  He rubbed his arm and showed her his sullen look. “Not my cows they drove off. I’ve me own life to see to.”

  She pushed past him and went into the bunkhouse. Rosa sat on the bed washing Reno’s wound. Fred pulled on his slicker for the trip to town.

  Rosa looked up and frowned. “You are not needed here, Cenora. I can take care of Reno. I’ve doctored such wounds many times.”

  Fred gasped, obviously shocked at Rosa’s rudeness.

  “Fine, then. See that you do.” Cenora turned and stormed back to the house. She’d had enough of Rosa’s haughtiness. She prayed her husband and the other men would stay safe, but when Dallas returned he was in for another fight.

  Kathryn arrived about eleven and stitched up Reno’s wound. Rosa stayed with Reno so Cenora had the kitchen duties to herself. Not that she minded except on principle, but she thought Rosa would not have stayed away if Dallas and Xavier were around.

  Without a word to anyone, Mac disappeared toward town soon after the men rode out. Since he couldn’t paint a house or barn in this weather, who knew what mischief he’d find?

  Kathryn checked Ma then joined Da and Cenora at the kitchen table for cold meat and thick slices of buttered bread washed down with fresh milk.

  “They’ll likely not be back before late tomorrow if then,” Kathryn said. “Reno indicated the herd was headed northwest of here, so they probably won’t reach it before nightfall tonight at the earliest. By the time they’ve chased off the rustlers or rounded them up, then turned the cattle back this way, they’ll have a long ride.”

  “You think they’ll be safe?” Cenora worried about all of the men, but especially about her husband and brother.

  Kathryn nodded. “Oh, yes. Austin and the boys plus a couple of our hands cut across to join them. By now I imagine Sheriff Yates and his posse are there as well.”

  Brendan stood. “I’ll be excusing meself, then. With so many men away, I’d best clean me own rifle in case o’ trouble here.”

  ****

  Dallas held up his hand, and they slowed to a walk. He had a terrible feeling about this. Try as he might, he couldn’t forget two years ago when he and his kin rode with the posse after bank robbers. Dear God, he hoped nothing like that ever happened again.

  Rain dribbled down his neck in spite of his hat. They’d ridden hard all day. If they didn’t catch up to the rustlers soon, they’d have to camp and wait until tomorrow to continue their chase. Sheriff Yates and a small posse of four had joined them about noon. Austin and his bunch arrived an hour later.

  Now they numbered fourteen, far too large a group for inconspicuous travel through this area used by Comanche renegades. Steep gray canyon walls hemmed them on both sides. At least their number offered a measure of safety in the event of trouble. And certainly trouble waited for them ahead. Two abreast, they rode slowly and followed the creek through the maples canyon, wary of Indians on their way to Mexico or back to Indian Territory.

  With a start, Dallas remembered Bateman. No way would they be back by the time Bateman arrived in the morning to pick up Cyclops. Hell, the man would be mad, but he’d have to understand. Dallas would throw in one of his best bridles to smooth things over.

  Usually when in this area, Dallas heard dozens of varieties of birds, but not today. He spotted a couple of turkeys in the brush and a chaparral ran across the trail, but an eerie silence hovered. Creaking saddles and hoof beats echoed, though the riders rode slowly to cut their noise. Beside them water rushed in the rain-swollen stream.

  “Too quiet.” Austin pulled up even with Dallas and Finn. “If Reno’s guess is right, this has to be the way they came.”

  Dallas nodd
ed. “Hope we find them before they hit the Sabinal and the pass.”

  Dallas and his kin knew of a nice little valley tucked into the bluffs just the other side of the maples area where rustlers might hole up and be off the main trail. Austin dismounted and walked back and forth, searching the ground. ”Many cattle had passed this way, but whose?”

  He climbed back in the saddle. “Wait here while I ride around a bit and check for signs.”

  “What kind o’ place is this?” Finn asked, his voice hushed.

  Dallas looked at the majestic trees around them and the stark walls of the bluff. “Folks call it ‘the maples.’ Don’t know how they came to be here or why, but it’s a pretty place.”

  “What’s your uncle looking for?”

  “Sign—either Comanches’ or Pete’s.”

  Finn looked around nervously. “Hope he finds Pete’s, for I’ve no wish to lose me hair.”

  “Me neither, but it’s not likely we’d meet a raiding party as large as ours. Usually they travel in small groups, no more than six or eight.”

  “We were told they’d been moved from this part o’ your country to Indian Territory or other reservations.”

  “Yeah, but they take leave on occasion to do a little trading or raiding down here. This is one of their favorite trails. Rustlers might be hoping to do business with the same guys the Comanches meet.”

  Twenty minutes later, Austin rode into view and signaled them forward. “Saw Pete’s signs and followed them until I found him. He says the men we want are camped just where we figured.”

  The sheriff rode forward and faced them. “We should split up. Austin, you and your bunch take two of my men. I’ll ride with Dallas. We’ll go around and get them from the back.”

  Austin frowned, but he nodded. “What do you want us to do?”

  “Wait with Pete until you hear us ride in from the other side, then you come in to head them off. Careful you don’t get caught by crossfire or a stampede.”

  Dallas met his uncle’s gaze. He didn’t like the sound of it and thought his uncle agreed, but Dallas figured the sheriff ought to be in charge. Yates was a good lawman and had caught more than his share of criminals. “Probably take us over an hour.”