Courage To Believe (Cowboys of Courage 2)

by Charlene Bright

  Chapter 17

  Gillian covered her face with a pillow and screamed as loud as she could. She was so tired of interruptions! How many times now had she been on the verge of carnal knowledge when something had gone wrong and stopped them. Turning her face to the ceiling and raging at whatever god was listening, she asked, “Are we ever going to consummate whatever relationship this is, or are you going to torment me till the end of time? What is the hold up here?”

  She half expected a crack of thunder or maybe a flash of the lights in response to her ire. Instead, she was met by complete silence. She couldn’t even hear the sounds of the outdoors with how well insulated the place was. Lucas had built the place to last and poured his soul into it. Gillian wished she had that much belief it her own projects.

  Now, she was hot, bothered, and stuck inside this gem of a house while Lucas went to rescue someone from a dire situation. She didn’t even know when he’d be back from this little excursion, and yet, she had no intention of leaving. She hoped her libido could handle this, though. She’d been worked up too many times now, only to get shut down, and she couldn’t stand the thought of walking away again.

  No, Gillian would be patient, and she’d get her just desserts.

  She got out of the bed and hobbled around the room until she reached the dresser. She opened the top drawer and found several pairs of boxer briefs, socks, and other such underclothes. The middle drawer was neatly folded t-shirts, and the bottom drawer was filled with miscellaneous objects. She saw everything from nail clippers and a comb to batteries and envelopes. She smiled, glad to find the guy wasn’t completely organized. Everyone had a catch-all drawer, and it delighted her to find his, especially in such a strange place as his dresser.

  She opened the middle drawer again and grabbed a random shirt, pulling it over her head. Gillian wasn’t one to walk around naked in her own living room, much less someone else’s house. It was large and soft, and no matter how freshly washed it was, it smelled like Lucas, which was comforting.

  In the strange outfit, she hobbled through the house, being nosy. The bathroom in the master bedroom was reasonably sized, though if she’d been building this place, she would have created a huge suite with a whirlpool tub and his and hers sinks. That reminded her too much of their conversation about getting married, though, and she scowled.

  Why had she been daydreaming about this man as if something serious would happen? The evidence of the Eternal Bachelor in this place was obvious. It only had one bedroom, and there was a single sink in the bathroom. The closet was small, and everything else in the house spoke of belonging to a single man, including the décor.

  It wasn’t decorated in poor taste, though. Everything was modest, and while the couch and loveseat were definitely high-end leather, they looked like they were secondhand, with some wear and tear that wasn’t explained by being the property of a single man. Even the television wasn’t what she would expect for a man with no other personal commitments. It was small, maybe 27”, and he hadn’t even mounted the flat screen anywhere for better viewing.

  The kitchen was perhaps the wealthiest of rooms, and it still wasn’t much to speak about. It held the table and chairs, which were becoming the most familiar spot in the house for Gillian. Lucas had a lot of modern appliances, including a food processor, a coffee grinder, and a cappuccino maker. His pots and pans were expensive, and Gillian understood suddenly that he really took his cooking seriously.

  In the refrigerator, she found a twelve-pack of longneck Budweiser with a single bottle missing, all the condiments typical of a single man’s stash, and tons of fruits and vegetables, as well as dozens of eggs and jugs of milk, juice, and tea. In the freezer there were neatly organized packages of perfectly portioned meat. There was chicken, turkey, three kinds of fish, steak, and the standard ground beef. There was also sausage and frozen vegetables, with a couple of frozen dinners that had enough freezer burn to tell her Lucas didn’t eat them.

  The pantry was also stocked up, and she closed the door, staring around her and wondering what she was going to do now. There wasn’t much more to the house, and while Gillian thought it was gorgeous, it left her bored after ten minutes. She looked out the front door and saw a quaint little porch, maybe ten feet across and five feet deep, that Lucas had built with a cover against the elements. The back door led out to the pastures, and though she knew it was cold, Gillian stepped out onto a similar porch area to look around.

  Hugging herself against the chill in the air that had swept in with the setting sun, she could finally appreciate what Lucas had. The stable needed to be rebuilt. He’d erected a single stall for his single horse, but Gillian knew he wanted to invest in more horses. He couldn’t do that until he expanded the stables. Beyond that was a small corral. At least he was prepared that far for multiple horses.

  At a greater distance, she could see the barn and wondered just how many heads of cattle Lucas had. She thought she caught sight of a smattering of the animals out in the pastures, but she certainly couldn’t count in the dark. The rest was empty land, and there was a lot of it. She’d taken a quick look at the county property records, wanting to see if Lucas had gotten a decent price on his land. She couldn’t know until she found out how much land he had and what its current value was.

  He had close to a hundred acres, and he’d put in a bid a year ago to annex just over forty more adjacent to his current property that was unowned. Of course, the bank or whoever “owned” it had denied the request at the time, stating it should be preserved and not ruined with farming. Considering how much free land was out here, and how much of it was unusable for farming and ranching, Gillian thought that was the worst excuse she’d ever heard. They were obviously just looking for more money.

  From her place up here, Gillian couldn’t see the fields where Lucas grew flax and wheat. It was too dark. But it wouldn’t be growing right now anyway. She assumed he’d be replanting in the next month or so, unless he decided the crop he’d raise in a short season wouldn’t be worth the time and effort.

  The longer Gillian stood there and let the chill seep into her skin, the more she understood Lucas’s passion for this lifestyle. She had felt so much guilt at the possibility of his losing all of this simply because he’d come to her rescue that she needed to make reparations. Otherwise, she would never have lived it down. The only way she could feel better about it was to take the money she’d put back for her apartment and deposit it into an account for him.

  She’d lived with her mother for so long now that it wouldn’t be that much of a difference if she spent another year there, building up her savings account again. There were always great apartments opening up in Richmond, and when she had the money again, she’d search and find something just as good or even better. Lucas’s livelihood was more important than her yearning to live alone.

  The funny thing was, it hadn’t hurt one bit to transfer that money. A month ago, Gillian would have rather died than lose that money to any other circumstance. But something about Lucas made her want to hand it over. It didn’t seem like a loss, and she’d almost eagerly handed it over without a second thought.

  She’d demanded the deposit be anonymous. After all, she wasn’t stupid. Lucas would never have accepted the money from her. It was bad enough that he would probably suspect she’d had something to do with it. She wasn’t going to leave hard evidence. Hell, even if he could humble himself to take the money from her, she didn’t want him feeling indebted to her or insisting on paying any or all of it back.

  Finally too cold to stay out, she limped back into the house and closed the sliding glass door behind her. She looked around and finally went to the kitchen to pull what looked like egg salad out of the fridge. She searched through the drawers until she found a spoon, reached back in the fridge for a cold Coke, and then took all of it into the living room, almost dropping it on the coffee table. Gillian growled at herself. She didn’t like that her ankle made everything else more of a handic
ap.

  When she’d found the right remote and turned on the television, she sat down on the couch and started munching as she flipped channels. Lucas didn’t have any premium channels, but that was fine. Gillian could find something interesting on one of the extended basic channels he had.

  Chapter 18

  The weather wasn’t threatening, so Lucas felt certain he could tie his horse to a tree and not lose him while he worked to rescue the young couple down on the jagged outcropping of rocks below him. By his calculations, Mike would arrive in his truck in about fifteen minutes, at which time Lucas should have at least one if not both of their victims up and safe.

  He rigged up the rope and harness and leaned down to address the two of them again. He shone the flashlight, trying to make sure he’d be able to see and instruct the kid in how to put the harness on as he went. “Okay, man, I’m going to throw this down to you, and I want you to follow my instructions exactly to connect your girlfriend to it so I can pull her up. Then, I throw it back and get you out of there.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend, she’s my wife!” the guy shouted back. That was semantics and the least of Lucas’s concerns.

  Gritting his teeth against an inappropriate response, he called back, “Just follow my directions so we can make sure she’s secure.”

  “Wait!” Mike’s voice sounded behind him, and Lucas turned to see him rushing forward from his truck. The rush of the river was loud enough to have covered the quiet engine of his brand new ride. As he drew closer, he told Lucas, “There are two of us here now. Why don’t you go down and secure the harness, and then I’ll pull you back up afterward? That way we don’t have to trust the inept victims to put the damn thing on right.”

  While Lucas was in no mood to go down there, he also knew this would go a lot faster if he just worked with Mike in that way. With a reluctant nod, Lucas put on the harness and helped Mike secure the rope to a tree, and then he rappelled slowly down the ten feet or so to the set of rocks where the couple had found relative safety.

  “New plan,” he told them, taking the harness off and turning to the woman. She was bigger than he’d thought when he’d looked down, but not too big to be a problem. “Just hold still, and I’ll get you set up in this. My partner will haul you up, and then we’ll do the same for your husband.” She was scraggly, wet, and shivering, but she nodded, and moments later, Lucas was giving Mike the signal to go ahead. They had the two drowned rats up on shore in no time, and Lucas put on the harness.

  Mike pulled him up, and Lucas crawled his feet up the edge of a short cliff to assist in supporting his own weight, but the buckle broke, and Lucas started a freefall that had him nearly hitting the rocks. He managed to catch the rope with his hands, causing them to burn, just before he ended up with a broken back or sliced kidney.

  Stretching his feet toward the rocks below, he hollered to Mike, “Let me down about a foot!” The rope dropped a bit, and Lucas winced as his body jerked. He landed one foot and then the other on the rocks below, but they were slippery, and he lost his balance. The rope slid again, and he grabbed onto it just as the harness broke, his body swinging and slamming into the rocks.

  He let out a cry of pain as he felt the impact on his ribs, and as he swung away and back toward them, he put out his feet to stop himself from busting a rib. He bent his knees, not wanting to give himself any further momentum, and finally, he was able to rest his feet against the side of the outcropping and use his grasp on the rope to climb on top.

  “Jesus, Lucas, are you all right?” Mike called down. “I’m sorry!”

  “It’s not your fault!” he called back, wincing as his lungs heaved against what was at least a bruised rib, if not cracked. “The harness broke and I slipped.” He assessed the rope and began to rig it up around his body. “I’m going to climb up in just a minute, if you could help lift.”

  “You got it, boss!” Lucas could see the tear in his jeans and knew there was likely a more serious injury than he thought going on. But he was cold and damp, and now he had to use the last of his energy to climb ten or twelve feet to get out of this disaster. He didn’t have time to consider what might be going on with his body.

  Wrapping the rope around his waist and carefully between his legs, he knotted it soundly, checked the tie, and signaled to Mike he was starting up. He gripped the rope with a solid fist and placed his foot on a small jut in the earth in front of him. He felt some of his weight being taken out of his hands and glanced up to find both the rescued man and Mike pulling.

  He made it up the cliff quicker than he thought, and he collapsed on the ground at Mike’s feet. His friend and coworker was instantly on him, checking vitals and looking for injuries, the other guy shining the flashlight at him. Lucas heaved for breath. “I either bruised or cracked my ribs, and I think there might be a gash on my leg. Other than that, a little rope burn on my hands should be the extent of the damage,” he told Mike.

  “You are one lucky son of a bitch,” Mike sounded relieved. “You could have bit it, and I couldn’t have done anything about it.”

  Lucas struggled to his feet, stumbling a bit, and he bent at the waist, bracing his hands on his knees as he fought to recover a normal breathing pattern. It hurt to take the deep drags of air, and he had to stop causing himself additional unnecessary pain. “You should come get checked out at the clinic,” Mike told him.

  “I’m fine,” he snapped back. “There’s nothing they can do for me that I can’t do for myself. I’ll go home, wash and bandage the leg, and be careful not to twist and turn in strange directions until my ribs are better. Now, get those two to the clinic. They’re likely on the verge of hypothermia. It’s freezing down there.”

  “Are you sure?” Mike asked, giving him a skeptical look.

  “I’m sure.” He wanted to get home, where he had a mostly naked woman waiting for him. “Go on, I’m closer to home by horse than you are to the clinic by truck anyway.” Stubbornly, he walked toward his horse, holding his breath against the oncoming pain in his leg and the bruising of his ribs. He threw his leg over his horse, faking a smile, and he took the reins and turned the beast toward home with a wave over his shoulder.

  He didn’t look back. Instead, Lucas focused on the trail that led almost straight to his property. He had a mission, and he was going to stand by it. He had a feeling Gillian was already going to give him hell about his injuries, but he wasn’t going to let anything get in his way. He would clean himself up, like he’d told Mike, and then he’d have his way with the beautiful woman he’d left naked in the bed.

  Chapter 19

  Gillian gaped at the sight of Lucas as he drug himself through the front door. He tried to put on a brave face, but the deep lines around his eyes and mouth spoke volumes about the pain he was in. His jeans were torn by his left knee, and if she wasn’t mistaken, there was blood on the rip. And every breath he took seemed to make him want to fall down and scream.

  She got to her feet too fast and had to check her balance with the boot before she hopped toward him as swiftly as she could. “What happened to you?” she asked, truly concerned. Lucas started to shake her off, but Gillian gripped his arm tightly and guided him to the couch. “Sit down. I’m going to get something to clean off your knee.” Now that he was seated, the jeans gapped enough to show a jagged cut on the side.

  He didn’t say anything, and Gillian figured that was better than having him argue. Going through the bathroom cabinet, she found hydrogen peroxide and soft clothes. She wet one and took two dry ones with some soap out to the living room. Before he could protest, she grabbed the two sides of the tear in his jeans and pulled them apart, all the way to the hem at the bottom.

  He had great legs, but she hated seeing the dried blood that had dripped down his shin and calf. “Good thing I wasn’t wearing my Ariats,” he muttered, and she looked up to find amusement in his eyes. “You’re pretty strong for a woman.”

  Gillian snorted. “I’m pretty strong for anyone.
Hold still.” She scrubbed at the wound, and she nearly laughed at the hissing and grunting it evoked. She patted it dry and poured the peroxide on it.

  Lucas let out a string of curses and nearly kicked her in the face. “Damn it, Gillian! That hurt!”

  “Don’t be a baby,” she scolded. “How did you manage this? And did you at least save the day doing it?”

  “Yeah, the idiots are safe and on their way to get checked out at the medical center.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I had to climb down to them, and on the way up, the equipment failed. I slammed into some rocks, but I’m fine.” The way he winced as he breathed in told her otherwise.

  “Lucas, did you crack your ribs?”

  He glared down at her. “I doubt it. They’re just bruised.”

  Gillian wasn’t so sure, but she was going to take his word for it. She didn’t know how to wrap them up, and she knew better than to try to talk him into going to the medical center to get checked out. He was as stubborn as she was, and since there was no obvious swelling, she couldn’t point to evidence of something more serious.

  “Where do you keep ibuprofen and things like that?” she asked him.

  He didn’t look thrilled at the prospect of taking medication, but he told her, “It’s in the bathroom in a box under the sink.” That was interesting, but she didn’t say anything. She simply stood up and made her way back to the bathroom and crouched the best she could, pulling the box out from under the sink. He had every over the counter drug you could imagine, and most of them had never been opened. He would be one of those guys who would rather tough it out, she thought with a grimace.