Trey looked up at her as she stroked the horse’s neck. “Cloud’s not mean, but he has a temper. If something annoys him, he lets you know.”
When the apple supply ran out, Cloud wandered off to graze. Beth sat beside Trey again. The way he spoke intrigued her. At times he sounded like an educated man, at times like a farm boy. Expressions he must have grown up with – some obviously picked up from his British father – came and went like his accent. Perhaps he’d deliberately suppressed his drawl while he was in the army. As for education, if he’d enlisted at eighteen, when had he found time to study?
“So you came out here as soon as you got out of the army?”
“As soon as I could, yes.”
“I’ve been wondering where you got your education.”
“Education?” Trey gave her that amused sideways glance of his. “All the education I have, I got at home. My mother had a lot of books and she taught Chelle and me the three Rs. There wasn’t a school nearby when I was small, and later there was work to do, but I always read whatever I could get my hands on.”
So that explained his well-written letters. Sidonie McShannon had taught her children well. “Have you read your Longfellow and Whitman?”
“Yes, but don’t mention it around town. I’d never hear the end of it.”
At the touch of irony in his voice, Beth arched an eyebrow and grinned. “How much is it worth to you?”
Trey chuckled. “Lady, I know where you live.”
“True. I’ve read Evangeline, but not much Whitman. We didn’t have anything of his in the house. Aunt Abigail didn’t think his work was fit for a lady to read. Naturally, I read it at friends’ houses when I got the chance.”
“Of course. What did you read?”
“Oh, bits and pieces of different poems. I liked them.”
A verse from I Sing the Body Electric sprang to Beth’s mind – the last verse she would have chosen at that moment, with Trey sitting so close beside her.
The expression of the face balks account,
But the expression of a well-made man appears not only in his face;
It is in his limbs and joints also, it is curiously in the joints of his hips and wrists;
It is in his walk, the carriage of his neck, the flex of his waist and knees – dress does not hide him;
The strong, sweet, supple quality he has, strikes through the cotton and flannel;
To see him pass conveys as much as the best poem, perhaps more;
You linger to see his back, and the back of his neck and shoulder-side.
She knew what Trey’s back looked like, with subtle lamplight shining on his skin. The memory made her heart skip a beat. Their gazes locked, and a hot glow kindled in Trey’s eyes. He’d never looked at her that way before, but other men had.
It was Beth’s fault this time, but she couldn’t help herself. Perhaps Whitman wasn’t fit for a young lady to read after all, if it made her skin prickle and heat like this. She and Trey were just beginning to get to know each other, and all she could think of right now was how his mouth would feel caressing hers.
She couldn’t look away. Without saying anything, he reached out to touch her cheek.
Beth had barely enough will left to catch his hand and lower it to the ground with a gentle squeeze. “It’s too soon.”
He blew out a breath and ran his fingers through a tuft of grass. “I suppose so.”
Had she hurt his feelings? The thought bothered Beth more than it should have after such a short time. “Trey, I’ve only been here a few days. I guess we’d better see if I can last a month without burning you out of house and home before we think about anything more.”
Heat still lingered in Trey’s gaze. “I know this is all new to you, Beth. You don’t have to try so hard.”
In control of her legs again, Beth jumped up. She didn’t dare stay here, not when a touch from Trey might overwhelm her common sense. “Trying hard seems to be part of my nature. Now, I should go and let you get back to work.”
She saddled Chance and stuffed the remnants of their lunch in her saddlebags. When she mounted, Trey stood looking up at her, his hand on the saddle, inches from her thigh.
“I’ll see you tonight.” Beth touched her heels to Chance’s sides and took off at a canter, desperate to put some distance between them. When she reached the wagon track, she reined the mare in and turned in the saddle to look back. Trey was still watching her.
CHAPTER 7
“Come here, Calico. You know how good this tastes. Come and get it.” Beth leaned over the half door of the stall, holding out a carrot. The pinto mustang took a tentative step forward. “That’s it, come on.”
Trey’s body tightened as he watched from Cloud’s stall. That soft tone brought all kinds of distracting ideas to mind, like how good it would feel to silence Beth with his lips.
Her voice dropped so he couldn’t hear her words, only that entreating murmur. Trey’s edginess increased.
Look at yourself, fool. You’re jealous of a horse.
Beth had appeared in the barn yesterday morning at chore time, with a stubborn light in her blue-gray eyes and those pants hugging her hips. Trey had never seen a woman in pants before. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
She was determined to start working with the horses. Knowing he’d have to give in sooner or later, he marshaled his scattered wits and walked her through his morning routine. Now here she was, smoothing down a half-wild mustang as if she’d been doing it for years.
Calico was a boarder, not part of Trey’s breeding program. He’d been captured as a weanling three years ago, gelded and kept in a rancher’s rough string until John Reeves bought him last fall. Trey was training the mustang, getting him ready for John’s son Ben to ride.
Without the elegance of the mares or anything like the sheer presence of Flying Cloud, Calico had a wild beauty of his own. What he’d been through had left him with a healthy distrust of men, but he responded to Beth’s coaxing, moving closer until he could reach the carrot. When Beth offered him some oats, he ate from her hand, something Trey had never been able to accomplish.
Cloud pinned his ears back and snorted; a low, vicious sound. As far as he was concerned, the mares belonged to him and he wasn’t standing for another male in his territory. Trey dragged his eyes from Beth long enough to finish feeding and watering the stallion, then joined her in front of Calico’s stall. “Good work. Calico’s had plenty of trouble from men, but he knows you’re different.”
“Of course he does.” Beth glanced down the aisle at Cloud as she stroked Calico’s muzzle. “He could do without being bullied. It’s a shame that he’s here at all. He should have been left in the wild where he belonged.”
“Yeah, it is a shame in a way, but it isn’t all bad. He gets plenty to eat and he’s safe here.” Trey reached for the mustang’s halter. Calico jerked his head back and half-reared before accepting the restraint.
Beth offered him another carrot. “They never forget being wild, do they?”
“Some seem to, if they’re treated well, but I don’t think they really do.” When Trey let go of the halter, Calico retreated to the far end of the stall. In over six months, Trey hadn’t been able to win more than the horse’s tolerance. He was too much like the men who had roped Calico, taken him from his herd, held him down and gelded him. From the looks of it, Beth might stand a better chance of earning his trust. “Would you like to feed him?”
“I’d love to.” Beth scooped oats from the grain barrel into a bucket and opened the stall door. Calico hung back for a moment, but when she moved closer and set the bucket down, hunger got the better of him. He stuck his nose into the oats and ignored her while he ate.
“Well, now. He never touches his food while I’m in with him.” Trey took a slow step forward and held the stall door, ready to swing it open and let Beth out if the horse spooked, but Calico finished his meal quietly.
Beth bent to pick up the empty bucket.
&nb
sp; At the same moment, Cloud let out a piercing shriek. Startled, Calico lunged forward and knocked Beth across the stall. In his shock, Trey didn’t get the door open fast enough. It crashed into his midsection with all of Calico’s weight behind it as the horse barged through. Trey’s breath left him in a rush. He saw a blinding flash of white as his head smacked the floor, and that was all.
* * *
Beth picked herself up and stumbled into the aisle. “Oh, Lord. Trey.”
Calico had escaped through the open barn door. Trey lay in a heap next to the grain barrel, laboring for breath.
Beth turned him on his side, brushed chaff from his face. “Trey, can you hear me?”
He was out cold. Beth unbuttoned his shirt with shaking fingers.
A long, faded scar extended down his right side and disappeared under the waistband of his pants. Beth barely noticed it as she pressed on his ribs as hard as she dared. Nothing felt broken, but she couldn’t be sure. She laid her hand over his heart and felt it racing.
“Trey, open your eyes. Please…”
He didn’t respond. Beth drew a bucket of cold well water and bathed his face, but she couldn’t rouse him. Frightened tears sprang to her eyes. She didn’t dare move him, even if she’d been strong enough to shift his dead weight. She’d heard the thump of the door against his ribcage. A fractured skull, broken ribs, internal injuries – all sorts of grim possibilities raced through her mind.
After a few seconds’ frantic thought, she eased a pad of folded feed sacks under Trey’s head, buttoned his shirt, and ran to the house for a blanket. By the time she got back, his breathing had settled down. He must have had the wind knocked out of him. “Trey, look at me. You have to be all right. I need you to help me get you inside.”
Still no response. She spread the blanket over him and ran a hand along his arm. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Beth threw a bridle on Chance, scrambled on the horse bareback, and headed for the Kinsleys’.
Beth had never ridden bareback before, but that didn’t occur to her. All she could think of was Trey’s still, white face as he lay on the barn floor.
Maddy hurried from the house as Chance whirled into the Kinsleys’ yard. Legs shaking, Beth slid to the ground and blurted out her story. “I couldn’t wake him up. I tried and tried.”
Maddy threw an arm around her. “It won’t help him to panic. Come on. Logan’s in the barn. He’ll go to town for help and we’ll go back to Trey.”
Beth choked back a sob. “The closest doctor is in Denver. If he’s badly hurt, he might not make it that far.”
“We don’t have a doctor, but we’ve got Neil Garrett.”
“Doesn’t he run the saloon?”
Maddy hurried Beth toward the barn. “Yes, he does, but Neil was an ambulance attendant during the war. He’s as good as most of the doctors I’ve met. Help me saddle up.”
The ride back to the homestead seemed to take forever. They found Trey lying where Beth had left him. When she knelt and lifted his head to her lap, he stirred and opened glazed eyes. “You all right, Beth?”
Thank God. In her relief, Beth would have kissed him if Maddy hadn’t been standing there. Instead, she contented herself with picking bits of grit from the floor out of his hair. “I’m fine. How do you feel?”
Trey took a deep breath and winced. “Lousy. Hey, Maddy.”
Maddy knelt beside Beth. “Hey. Logan’s gone after Neil. You look like you’re going to live, but you’d better stay quiet till he gets here.”
Trey tried to sit up, then pressed his fingers to his eyes and sank back down against Beth. “Yeah. I’m not in a hurry to go anywhere.”
“Good. Since you’re awake and seem to be in good hands, I’ll go cool down the horses.”
Beth caught just a hint of a twinkle in Maddy’s eyes. She blushed, then forgot herself in trying to make Trey more comfortable. It would be at least another hour before Logan could get back with Neil. She took the blanket she’d thrown over Trey and worked it underneath him to ward off the chill of the barn’s earthen floor. “Better?”
“Yeah.”
Beth tucked the blanket more closely around him. Trey’s face was still chalky under his tan, and his carefully neutral expression didn’t fool her. He was in a lot of pain. If only she could get Neil and Logan here by magic. “You gave your head quite a knock.”
Trey reached for Beth’s right hand and linked his fingers with hers. “I’ll be all right. I got my bell rung, that’s all. It’s not the first time.”
And it wouldn’t be the last. Trey accepted that as the price of doing what he loved, and Beth would have to do the same if she stayed here. Could she?
“I’m sure it’s not.” She squeezed his hand. “I suppose we’ve lost Calico. That’s a shame.”
“He won’t go far. Logan and I will find him.”
Dark eyes looked into hers. Could Trey tell how frightened she’d been, how much he’d come to mean to her already? On an impulse, Beth leaned down… and then something in Trey’s expression stopped her, a shred of the caution she should have been feeling herself. It brought her to her senses. If there’d ever been a time when she needed to act the lady, that time was now. “I’m sure you will. Now you rest.”
The quiet wove a subtle spell around them. Trey lay with his head in Beth’s lap, her arms around him to help keep him warm. Aunt Abigail’s doctor had said once that people with head injuries shouldn’t be allowed to fall asleep, so Beth asked questions to make sure he stayed awake. “Trey, when is your birthday? I never thought to ask before.”
“September third.”
“Mine’s June twentieth. What’s your favorite food?”
“Chicken fricassee.”
“Who were your best friends at home?”
“Justin and Cathy Sinclair. They were friends with Chelle and me from the time we were little.”
“Was Cathy pretty?” Beth meant to tease, and Trey’s slight smile told her he knew it.
“She was. She had green eyes, and hair just about the color of yours… maybe a little lighter. It’s a weakness of mine, I guess.”
“I’ll remember that the next time I see a pretty redhead.”
Beth kept talking, building up a picture of Trey’s past as the minutes flew by. It startled them both when Maddy came in, followed by Logan and the man who had stared – almost leered – at Beth when she got off the stagecoach.
She slid the feed sack pillow back under Trey’s head and got stiffly to her feet. Surprise, curiosity and, yes, a little embarrassment mingled on Neil Garrett’s scarred face as he recognized her. “Morning, ma’am. What happened here?”
After hearing Beth’s description of the accident, Neil knelt beside Trey. “Tried to crack your skull, did you?”
He mustered a grin. “Business must be slow today, Neil.”
“Not slow enough that I have time to tend hard-headed fools like you.”
“So send me a bill.”
Neil peered into Trey’s eyes, checked the contusion on his head, then held up his hand. “How many fingers?”
“Three.”
“Right. Is the lady your sister?”
“No, she’s my wife.”
Neil sat back on his heels and looked Beth over again, with more sardonic humor than respect. She should have been offended, but somehow she couldn’t be. “You don’t say. I’d heard a couple of things in town, but I didn’t believe them. Pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am.” Neil turned back to Trey, undid his shirt, and pressed on his ribs.
Trey clenched his teeth and bit back a groan. “Jesus!”
Neil nodded. “Sorry.” He felt over Trey’s abdomen, then stood and dusted off his knees. “I don’t think anything’s broken, but you’re badly bruised and there could well be a cracked rib or two. You’re not showing any signs of internal injuries, at least not yet. Are you dizzy and sick to your stomach?”
“Yeah.”
“Thought so. You’ve got a concussion, but hopefully
that’s all. Logan, let’s get him inside.”
* * *
Trey woke to the sound of Cloud’s whistle from the corral. Propped on two pillows, he shifted in bed, trying to ease his sore ribs. The movement made his head whirl and his stomach churn. He closed his eyes and counted the seconds until it stopped.
Afternoon light streamed into the cabin. Following Neil’s instructions, Beth had wakened Trey every half hour through the night, but at daybreak she’d let him sleep. He must have had a good few hours. Sore as he was, he didn’t feel as if anything was damaged inside him. He’d had a lucky escape.
He didn’t remember the accident clearly, but he remembered Beth holding him afterward, her arms close and warm around him while they waited for Neil. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time, with most of the spring work still to be done, but at least Beth had gotten off lightly, with only a few bruises.
Trey swung his legs over the edge of his bunk, setting his ribs throbbing and his head spinning again. He’d had his bell rung all right. When he tried to get to his feet, a wave of pain and nausea forced him back down on the bunk. Christ. Beth wasn’t ready to look after the place alone.
He’d just gotten back under the covers when she came in from the yard. She’d thrown his gray canvas jacket on over her denims and blue blouse. Vibrant strands of auburn hair strayed from under one of Trey’s wide-brimmed hats, a fiery contrast to the dusty black felt. When she took the hat off, glowing curls tumbled down her back and around her shoulders. It was the first time Trey had seen her with her hair loose.
She dropped the hat on the table and sat on the side of his bunk, teasing him with the scents of cool spring air and lavender. “I’ve got good news. Logan caught Calico this morning and brought him back.”
“Good. That’s a weight off my mind. I saw mountain lion scat on the ridge behind Logan’s place the other day. Where have you been?”
To Capture the Sky (Choices of the Heart, book 2) Page 7