by Anthology
“And you’re just now showing it to me?”
He scowled. “We need to get going. Bart and I figured out how to split everybody up. We need to get busy searching. It’s snowing again.”
“You weren’t going to tell me!” Anger slid past the hurt and grew.
He opened the door, impatience stamped on his rugged features.
“Don’t deny it.”
“I’m not,” he said flatly.
“I can’t believe you were going to keep this from me.”
“But I didn’t.” He leaned down until he was in her face, his gaze leveling into hers. “Because it would’ve been wrong.”
“Why would you even think about not telling me?”
“I didn’t want to upset you. And I don’t want you out in this weather any more than I want William out in it.”
“I am perfectly capable of deciding if I should go out in this weather.”
“That’s right. You’re perfectly capable of making your own decisions so I thought you should.”
He could easily have ridden off in search of William without telling her, left her to find out from the Millers or someone else. But he hadn’t. He was giving her what she had denied him—the chance to make her own decision. It hit her like a smack upside the head.
Though Caroline understood the significance, there was no time for talking about it now. Nor did Smith appear interested.
Ushering her outside, he hurried her to the church where everyone was gathered. His Appaloosa was hitched to the post in front of Whitaker’s. He must have saddled and fetched his mount when he’d checked the livery for William’s mule.
Smith’s parents as well as Ivy, and Smith’s friend Gideon, arrived just as everyone was divided into teams of twos and threes. Smith and Sheriff Newberry made sure at least one person in each group had a mount or wagon.
“I saw tracks leading from the livery so I’m going west,” Smith announced.
The residents quickly spread out so that a ring of people surrounded Mimosa Springs and began to move away from town.
Smith unlooped his horse’s reins from the hitching post.
Caroline hurried over to him. “I’m going with you.”
His mouth flattened. She could tell he wanted to protest, but he didn’t.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll meet you at the livery.”
She rushed down the street and saddled her hardy bay mare. Moving to the mounting block, she stuck the basket under her arm and slid into the saddle.
Once she was outside, Smith glanced at the basket, then reached back to open one of his saddlebags. “Put the food in here.”
She quickly did, tossing the small container inside the livery for later retrieval. They rode out, following the tracks Smith identified as belonging to William’s mule.
A gust of wind swept across the hilly landscape. Caroline drew the shawl tighter around her head and huddled into her cape. She noticed that Smith had turned up the collar of his coat and pulled his hat down low. Thick white flakes soon coated the crown.
He half turned in the saddle. “I can still see a few of the mule’s hoofprints, but the snow is covering them up quickly. Before long, the impressions will be gone.”
“You’re not stopping, are you?” she cried out.
He gave her a glacial look. “I’ll be out here until I find him, but there’s no way of knowing how long that will be.”
“You think I should turn back, is that it?”
He didn’t answer.
She shivered. “I’m not heading home until we have him.”
“Didn’t think you would,” he muttered, kneeing his horse into motion.
Caroline followed, indignant that he would even think about sending her back. Then she reminded herself that he hadn’t really tried. Though he plainly didn’t like that she was going with him, he hadn’t ordered her to return home, hadn’t refused to let her join forces with him.
As she followed him through the blowing snow and needle-sharp cold, she realized with a sinking heart that was exactly what she had done to him.
Chapter Seven
Though Smith managed to stay focused on the search for William, it would’ve been a damn sight easier if Caroline weren’t with him. The occasional blast of frigid wind cut like a razor. His hands and feet were frozen to the point of aching. Hers had to be, too.
More than anything, he wanted to send her back home, but she wanted to be here and he understood that. Why couldn’t she understand what he wanted?
Their horses plodded through the snow. Because visibility was so limited, they moved much slower than Smith wanted. Still, he wouldn’t risk missing any possible sign of William.
Time seemed just as frozen as everything else. He glanced back at Caroline. All he could see of her face was her eyes, and the worry there mirrored his own. The longer the boy spent in this harsh weather, the greater the chance they wouldn’t find him alive.
Yard after yard, Smith tried to stay positive, relieved when the snow let up and almost stopped completely. The rolling landscape, blanketed in white, flattened out. They passed stands of green cedars and pines, bare-branched oaks.
They topped a rise. Caroline drew her mount to a stop beside his. The freezing temperature had his eyes watering and hers, too, he noticed.
Through the gray-white haze, he saw a pond at the bottom of the hill. A layer of thin ice covered the water and from a spot near the center, the surface was cracked all the way to the bank.
“There!” Caroline grabbed his arm, pointing to a dark motionless blur on the bank.
Smith leaped off his horse and half slipped, half ran down the snowy slope. As he neared, he was able to determine it was an animal. William’s mule.
Then Smith saw the boy huddled up against the animal’s belly. The mule had lain down, sharing its body heat.
His chest tightened.
“It’s William,” he yelled over his shoulder. “Bring my bedroll!”
The animal was covered in snow, its body angled to block the worst of the wind. The mule raised his head as Smith knelt beside the pair.
William’s legs were in the water. His ratty gloves were muddy and wet and dug into the bank like claws so he wouldn’t slide back into the pond.
The animal’s dark eyes followed Smith’s movements. His throat closed up as he gathered the boy near.
Caroline stumbled to a stop beside them, sobbing. “Is he—”
“He’s alive, but frozen clear through.”
When Smith rose with William in his arms, the mule struggled to stand. Caroline leaned in and pressed a kiss to William’s mud-caked forehead then rubbed the mule’s muzzle.
“Teacher?” the boy mumbled.
“Yes, William. And Smith is here, too.”
They reached their horses with the smaller animal plodding behind. Smith turned to her. “He’s losing consciousness off and on. We need to him get him warmed up as soon as possible.”
“I can carry him under my cape.”
“If you hold him against you, his clothes will get you
soakin’ wet. In this cold, that would undo any help you’d be giving him.”
“What do we do?” Alarm creased her features.
Smith glanced at the bedroll she held. “Strip him and wrap him in that.”
“Strip him?” She sounded horrified.
“Caroline, we don’t know how long he’s been out here. It’s lucky his mule stayed close, but if William’s clothes freeze, we could lose him. The best thing for him is to be as close to body heat as possible, without icy water-soaked clothes. We aren’t that far from town. Now that I can see where we’re going, it won’t take us long to get back.”
“All right.”
With shaking frozen hands, they struggled to get William’s clothes off. Smith had the thick blanket wrapped around the child as quickly as Caroline removed the garments.
He took the boy and held steady as she gripped his shoulder for support and climbed into her saddle. Once she and Will
iam were settled, she held him close and gathered her cape completely around him, sheltering him as best she could.
Smith knotted the mule’s reins to the latigos that laced through the framework of Caroline’s saddle. The leather strings typically used to tie ropes or a bedroll would hold just fine until they reached Mimosa Springs. Smith vaulted onto the back of his own mount then took Caroline’s reins and set off in a quick trot. Her mount and William’s kept pace.
The boy would be all right. He had to be. Smith glanced back, seeing only the top of Caroline’s shawl-wrapped head as she hugged William close. He would do everything he could for the lad. His gaze moved to the woman who cradled the boy close.
Overwhelming emotion tugged hard at Smith’s heart. Her attempt to push him out of her life might have come from a good place, but she had gone about it all wrong. She had hurt him. Infuriated him.
And yet despite the anger, he still wanted her.
His mind went back to those months in prison, remembered the desperation he’d felt to see her, hold her. He would’ve given anything to be with her. He still would.
After the way she had rejected his desires, dismissed him, he had thought he couldn’t forgive her, but he could. He just wasn’t sure he could convince her to change her mind.
* * *
Caroline and Smith took William straight back to town. On their way, Smith fired one gunshot then two in quick succession, the signal that the ten-year-old had been found.
Stephen saw their return and came running. He carefully took the boy from Caroline and laid him on her sofa as Smith fed more wood into the smoldering fire.
William shivered violently, his words slurring. “My mule?”
“He’s fine,” Smith soothed.
“Wh-where am I?”
“At Miss Curtis’s house with me, Doc Miller,” Stephen answered. “Miss Curtis is here, too.”
Shrugging out of his coat, Smith stepped into the boy’s line of sight.
“Is it Christmas?”
“Almost.”
William gave a drowsy smile, his eyes fluttering shut.
Caroline draped her chilled damp cape, shawl and gloves over the back of a dining chair then went to warm herself by the fire. Smith stayed at the foot of the sofa, his broad shoulders rigid. Worry carved lines on his weather-reddened features.
Stephen handled the boy gently yet said nothing. He was focused, almost somber. Dread flared and Caroline moved to stand beside Smith.
She slipped her hand into his, barely aware of doing it until she felt him jolt. She looked up, murmuring, “I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t make it.”
“He will,” Smith said fiercely. “He will.”
Her nerves were shredded. “Stephen? Tell us something.”
“He has mild hypothermia.” The doctor drew back to eye his patient. “The mule likely saved his life. If William had been out there alone, I wouldn’t have much hope, but I believe he’ll recover fully.”
Her eyes burned as Stephen rewrapped the boy in Smith’s bedroll.
Their friend glanced over his shoulder. “Bring as many blankets and quilts as you have. Bundle him up and lay him in front of the fire.”
Caroline hurried to do as he’d said. When she returned, Smith helped her layer the coverings on William.
“Don’t rub his hands or feet,” Stephen warned. “It would be a dangerous shock to his system. When he’s able to swallow, give him something warm. Broth or milk.”
Smith carefully settled William in front of the fire. Caroline arranged the blankets so that his head was covered, too, leaving only his face exposed.
Seeing Smith kneel and place a hand on the youngster’s head put a knot in Caroline’s throat. Relief swirled inside her. Thank goodness they had found William in time. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing the boy who had become more than a student to her.
She couldn’t bear the thought of losing the man she loved, either, she admitted as Smith rose to speak in low tones with the doctor.
She lay down beside William, the blaze causing her to perspire, but she didn’t care. The patient needed as much heat as he could get.
“Caroline?”
Smith’s voice rumbled over her head and she looked up.
“Stephen’s going to answer everyone’s questions. I’m—”
“You’re not leaving?” she asked in a half whisper.
“No.”
“Good.”
A strange look crossed his face. She watched him, growing drowsy. The next thing she knew she woke cuddled against his brawny chest, his strong arms around her. He limped toward the sofa.
Drawing in the scents of man and leather, she blinked up at him. “What are you doing?”
“You fell asleep,” he said gruffly. “I’m putting you on the sofa. I’ll sit with William for a while.”
“All right.” She searched his eyes for the hurt she’d put there earlier.
She didn’t see it. She didn’t see anything. His gaze was unreadable.
When he bent to lay her down, her arms tightened around his neck. Though the movement was automatic, it made her realize she didn’t want to let him go.
He gently yet firmly unclasped her arms then lowered them to her sides.
He cocked his head. “Caroline, just because our future isn’t the one we pictured—”
She waited. And waited.
Then he shook his head, stepping toward the dining table and the pitcher she’d filled with milk this morning.
“What were you going to say?”
“Never mind.” He removed the piece of cheesecloth covering the earthen container and poured some of the liquid into a pan.
She stood. “Please tell me.”
After a long moment, he gestured toward the boy. “Don’t you see what we did here?”
She frowned. “We found William.”
“We found him together. We’re caring for him, together.”
“Like a family,” she said slowly, realization unfolding inside her. “We could be his family.”
“We already are.” Smith’s gaze locked on her as if he were testing her reaction to that statement.
Legs shaking, she closed the distance between them. He stayed motionless, his expression apprehensive. Almost pained.
She laid a trembling hand on his chest. “We would be a family for William.”
“With William,” Smith corrected gruffly. He put his large hand over hers. “This will be good for everyone, Caroline. I know you’re afraid things might turn out for us like they did for your folks, but we work, sweetheart.”
She thought about all the ugly things her father had said and done to her mother. Smith’s words came back to her. They were nothing like her parents. He, especially, was nothing like Gil Curtis.
Smith slid a knuckle beneath her chin and tipped her face to his. “I want you to change your mind about us being together. I want you to give us a chance. Just because our future won’t be the one we pictured doesn’t mean we can’t have one.”
Beneath her palm, she felt his heart thump hard. She inched closer, a different kind of warmth moving through her. “When I thought you might not have told me that William was missing, I was furious. I realized that must’ve been how you felt when I made a decision that should have been yours.”
“Listen—”
“I love you, Smith.” She hadn’t let herself say it, not even last night when he was deep inside her. “Can you forgive me for deciding our lives without giving you a say? Without taking your wishes into consideration?”
“Depends.”
Her heart sank. “On?”
“There are other kids like William who need families and a home. We could give them one.”
She almost asked if he was certain, but as she stared into his eyes, she knew the answer.
It didn’t matter that those children wouldn’t come from her and Smith. William and others like him needed love and she had needed Smith to make her see it.
/> Her heart swelled. “Yes, I want to provide a home for William and children like him.”
Smith’s free hand slid to her nape, his fingers flexing in her hair. “There’s one condition.”
She held her breath.
“You marry me.”
“Are you sure?”
He arched a brow. “I’ve always been sure.”
He had. Sure and steady. Ready.
Her hands framed his face. His head lowered and his mouth covered hers. She held him tight, never letting go again.
After a moment, he drew back. “I thought this was going to be the worst Christmas of my life, worse than the two I spent in prison. Instead it’s going to be the best one ever. Let’s get married tomorrow.”
“On Christmas Day?”
“Yes.”
She glanced at the little boy stirring in front of the fire. “What about William?”
“He should be fine by then.”
By this time tomorrow, she would be married to Smith and they would have a family, two things she’d thought forever lost to her.
She smiled. “I can’t wait until we can tell William.”
“I can’t wait until we’re hitched,” Smith growled. He kissed her and kissed her and kissed her.
They were both breathless when he lifted his head. “You should know I aim to have plenty of mistletoe on hand at our wedding.”
Laughing, she tugged his head down to hers. “We don’t need any.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt of Whirlwind Cowboy by Debra Cowan!
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Chapter One
West Texas
June 1886
Where was she? The ground was hard beneath her back. Her head pounded as she stared up at a gray sky and the sun hidden behind red-tinted clouds. Carefully pushing herself up on her elbows, she winced as sharp pain speared through her skull. Her shoulder ached, too. She was behind a two-story white brick building she didn’t recognize.