Cowboy for Keeps

by Cathy McDavid

“Didn’t you have that kind of passion when you were at Triad?”

  He nodded. “I figured on a promotion every few years and staying put till I retired. I never thought for one second it would end like it did.”

  “Or that Richard would take over your job?”

  “That, either.” He tamped down the anger that still hovered just beneath the surface.

  “You must hate him,” she said sympathetically.

  “Not hate.”

  “Despise?”

  “I held a grudge. Hold a grudge, don’t get me wrong. But I’m not angry at him. Not over the company-wide downsizing and his promotion.” Conner rubbed his closed fist on his thigh. “He’s also trying to do right by you and the baby, and I respect that.”

  “You think I should marry him?”

  “I think you should consider it. Seriously. He can take good care of both of you. Provide a financially stable life.”

  Unlike Conner.

  “What about love?”

  “You said yourself you’ll always care for him. And you loved him once. Enough to get engaged.”

  “I think I was enamored with the idea of being in love. And vulnerable at the time.”

  Because of him? Conner was hesitant to ask, not sure how he’d respond if she answered yes.

  “Richard was everything I thought I was looking for then.” She stared forlornly at the horizon.” I’ve been unfair to him, and I won’t compound it by marrying for the wrong reason.”

  Conner saw her point. But he’d been raised by parents who instilled traditional values in him. “Richard’s trying to do the honorable thing. You might be happier than you think you’ll be.”

  “We both know that a marriage license is no guarantee. My father left when I was a child. Yours when you were, what? Eighteen?”

  “Twenty.”

  “And I bet being older didn’t make it hurt any less.”

  “My argument exactly. If Richard were to bail on you and the baby—”

  “Then I’d go after him.” She finished Conner’s sentence for him. “I don’t need a marriage license for that. But he won’t bail, because he isn’t the kind of man to abandon his child. Like you said before, he’s responsible. Dependable. He’s paying for any medical expenses my insurance doesn’t cover. Agreed to buy baby furniture and clothes. List me and the baby on as beneficiaries on his life insurance.”

  It was difficult for Conner to concentrate with their legs glued together, her chest rising and falling, and those laser sharp eyes fastened on him.

  “What about visitation?”

  “I’ll make sure Richard has every opportunity to play as large a role in our child’s life as he chooses.”

  “It’s not the same as a kid living with his dad. Just look at your own childhood.”

  She bristled. “This really is none of your business.”

  “You’re right,” Conner admitted, chagrined.

  “Would you marry someone you weren’t crazy about?”

  “That’s just it.” Conner quit listening to the voice of reason and leaned in. Lowered his head. “Richard’s a damn idiot for not being crazy about you. Any man in his right mind would be.”

  She stared at him wordlessly.

  “Dallas, I...” He’d blown it. Said something he shouldn’t have. “I’m just...”

  “Are you?” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “Crazy about me?”

  “Yes.” Crazy about her and plain crazy. He had to be. If not, he wouldn’t be closing the small distance separating them and seeking her mouth with his.

  Their lips grazed briefly. Before his could settle possessively on hers, one of the horses whinnied shrilly. The possibility that their rescuers had arrived was enough to give Conner a jolt and bring him to his senses. Was he insane?

  He broke off their near kiss and listened for the ATVs, acutely aware of their incriminating proximity. “I didn’t mean to...”

  “Really?” Dallas gazed deeply at him. “Because I did.”

  His heart, already hammering, nearly exploded.

  Dolly whinnied again.

  “We should probably talk about this. Later.” Rising from the wagon seat, Conner craned his neck and peered up the hill, the direction from which he expected Gavin to appear.

  “Do you see them?” Dallas pushed to her feet, as well.

  “No.” And that was strange. What had alerted the horses?

  It was then that he noticed Molly and Dolly staring in the opposite direction, toward the bottom of the hill, their eyes wide and ears pricked forward.

  The skin on the back of Conner’s neck began to tingle. More than one kind of predator made these mountains their home. Bobcats, mountain lions and coyotes to name a few. He reached for Dallas’s hand.

  “What’s wrong?” She gripped his fingers tightly.

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  Dolly whinnied again. To Conner’s shock, it was answered by an echoing whinny from around the bend at the bottom of the hill.

  “What the...”

  “Look!” Dallas clutched his arm. “It’s a horse.”

  “Two horses.” As Conner spoke, the pair emerged fully into view.

  The larger one, a mare, was flanked closely by a youngster, no more than six or eight months old by the size of him. The pair progressed cautiously up the hill toward Dolly and Molly, heads bobbing, the colt’s dainty legs dancing.

  “Are they wild mustangs? Like Prince?” Dallas watched in amazement.

  “That would be too much of a coincidence.” Even so, Conner entertained the possibility. He and Dallas crept forward, edging alongside the wagon. “Careful, we don’t want to scare them.”

  The mare, a sturdy tan-and-gray Appaloosa, had eyes only for Dolly and Molly. As she neared, Conner spotted something wrong, something that caused his blood to run ice-cold and his anger to burn.

  “What’s that in her neck?” Dallas asked. “A stick?”

  “An arrow. And there’s a second one imbedded in her back.”

  Chapter Five

  Dallas needed her camera. Right away, before the mare and colt ran off. Making as little noise as possible, she reached over the side of the wagon for her bag, and then crept forward.

  “Wait,” Conner instructed in a low voice. “She looks tame. Let’s see if I can get her to come to me.”

  “And if she doesn’t?” Dallas whispered back. “I want pictures. To show people.”

  He gave her an arch look.

  “This is cruelty to animals,” she insisted. “Whoever did it needs to be punished. Pictures can be used as evidence.”

  “We have to catch the mare first. Even then, I doubt the authorities will find the culprit. It probably happened weeks ago.”

  Weeks ago? That poor animal.

  Conner rummaged around the wagon bed and removed a coiled rope. “When, and only when, I tell you, bring this to me.”

  Dallas took the rope and stayed put, although she would rather have gone with Conner.

  What sane person would shoot an innocent horse with a bow and arrows? The thought made her heart constrict. Fortunately, the colt, a miniature version of his mother, appeared uninjured. Small consolation. If his mother died—infections could linger—he’d be left to fend for himself, with practically no chance of survival.

  Good thing she and Conner had come along when they did, and that the wagon wheel had broken.

  The mare gave Dallas
and Conner only a cursory glance. She instead fixated on Dolly and Molly, who fidgeted nervously and tugged on their lead ropes.

  Dallas wasn’t sure if the draft horses wanted to be friends with the newcomers or run from them. The colt was also undecided and pranced skittishly in circles around his mother, while eyeing Conner warily. Had he ever encountered humans before?

  Excitement coursed through Dallas. The colt, she realized, must have been born here in the mountains. Like Prince!

  Slinging the coiled rope over her shoulder, she removed her camera from the bag, one eye fastened on Conner.

  Rather than continue toward the mare and colt, he changed direction and headed instead to Dolly and Molly.

  “What are you doing?” Dallas asked in a loud whisper.

  He held out a hand, indicating for her to be quiet.

  Impatience clawed at her. What if the mare and colt ran off before she got a decent shot? Ignoring Conner’s directive, she inched out in front of the wagon and began taking pictures.

  A moment later Conner reached Molly and untied her lead rope. His intention became evident when he began walking with her back to the wagon. He was trying to see if the mare and colt would follow.

  Capturing the pair might turn out to be a simple as leading them home.

  Dallas gave Conner credit for his ingenuity, and then admired it as the mare broke into a trot to catch up with Molly. The colt bucked twice for good measure before loping alongside the mare, his slender legs moving gracefully.

  Conner’s grin conveyed his satisfaction with the outcome.

  Dallas deftly switched to a zoom lens. Appalled at the unspeakable and senseless cruelty of some people, she forced herself to keep snapping shots.

  “Bring the rope,” Conner said.

  She stopped shooting and did as he requested. “Oh, dear God,” she murmured, upon witnessing the mare’s wounds up close and without a camera lens filtering her view. “She must be in terrible pain.”

  “Bad, isn’t it?”

  One arrow was imbedded in the muscles of her neck and stuck straight out at a ninety degree angle. The other one had completely pierced the flesh of her back, six or so inches behind her withers. Red and yellow feathers protruded from one end, a bladed arrowhead from the other.

  Dried blood the color of tar stained the mare’s hide near both wounds, and traveled in a drip pattern down the entire length of her right shoulder and leg. The darkened flesh surrounding the puncture wounds curled away, leaving gaping, abscessed holes.

  “You okay?” Conner’s voice had an odd, tinny quality to it.

  “Fine.” Only Dallas wasn’t fine. The ground rippled under her feet, and her vision dimmed.

  She’d fainted only once before, as a teenager when she had her wisdom teeth removed, but she remembered the sensation well.

  “You don’t look fine.” He supported her elbow.

  “Pregnant, is all.” She fought for control, barely winning the battle.

  “Easy now,” Conner said, using the same coaxing tone he did when talking to the horses.

  She saw now why they responded to him.

  Accepting the support he offered, she leaned on him until the dizziness passed and her head cleared. “I feel stupid.”

  “Don’t. Gives me another reason to hold you.”

  Was he joking?

  “What about the mare and colt?”

  “Right here. I don’t think she’s going to give us any trouble.”

  “Good. She needs treatment.” Steadier and stronger, Dallas edged away from Conner. “I’m better now. Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  When he offered her a smile, her insides fluttered.

  They really should stop flirting and holding each other if they expected to maintain a strictly professional relationship.

  Who was she kidding? Their strictly professional relationship had gone by the wayside the moment his lips grazed hers. Probably sooner than that.

  “You should tie up that mare before she changes her mind.”

  Conner nodded, his hazel eyes lingering on Dallas.

  Enough already, she told herself. She couldn’t continue this—whatever it was with Conner—any longer. She was pregnant and not in the market for a man. Certainly not until she’d determined how, exactly, she was going to continue working while raising her baby as a single mother.

  And any man she did choose wouldn’t have had his job taken from him by her baby’s father.

  Conner might find her attractive now, but that would change the moment she started to show. Every time he looked at her, he’d be reminded of Richard.

  “You mind holding Molly? If you’re up to it.” He passed her the mare’s lead rope.

  “I’m up to it.” Dallas was glad to help. And glad for something to distract her from her thoughts about Conner, what they’d once had and what they possibly could have again.

  “If she gives you any trouble,” he said, “just let go of the rope.”

  “She won’t.” Dallas rubbed Molly’s nose. The big horse snorted lustily before nudging Dallas’s hand in a bid for more petting. “See?”

  Dolly, still tied to the tree branch, had lost interest and was dozing, the deerfly buzzing near her head going unnoticed.

  Conner turned toward the injured mare. Amazingly, she’d remained where she was, not far from Molly. “Here, girl.” He approached slowly, the rope held at his side.

  The mare stared at him, her gaze a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. She might have been raised by humans, but she didn’t trust them unconditionally. Her colt stood behind her large, round rump, head peeking out. If not for the instinct to stay with his dam, he’d have scampered off a long time ago.

  “That’s it.” Conner took another step.

  Dallas suddenly remembered her camera. Stuffing Molly’s lead in the crook of her arm, she started snapping pictures, grateful that there was still enough light.

  How could she have forgotten to take pictures?

  Simple. Conner.

  He held out his hand, palm up. The mare arched her neck, sniffed him and jerked back, before sniffing again. Eventually, to Dallas’s surprise and delight, she let Conner stroke the side of her face. Another couple dozen pictures were saved to her camera’s memory card.

  Murmuring to the mare the entire time, Conner lifted the rope, letting her sniff it before uncoiling it one loop at a time.

  “That’s right,” he crooned. “You know what this is, and you want to go home. Had your fill of the hard life, I bet.”

  Dallas got another shot of Conner and the mare, this one with the arrow in her neck prominent.

  He had just laid the rope over the mare’s neck, well beneath the wound site, when the low rumble of an engine sounded in the distance. No, two engines, Dallas thought, peering at the top of the hill and listening intently.

  Their rescue party was arriving, and none too soon.

  Wrong. It was too soon, as a glance at Conner confirmed.

  He hadn’t completely secured the rope, and when the mare tossed her head, it slipped off. She backed away, lowering her head and baring her teeth.

  The colt, Dallas suddenly realized. The mare wanted to protect her baby from danger.

  Dallas jumped as the first ATV crested the hill and came to a stop, the engine whining as it idled. When the driver—it was Gavin; she could see that now—started toward them, the mare twisted sideways and galloped down the hill, her colt in hot pursui
t. Seconds later, they disappeared behind the bend, the clatter of their hooves fading to silence.

  “Conner!” Dallas called, but it was pointless. There was nothing he could do, no way he could go after them on foot.

  She wanted to cry. Without proper medical treatment, the mare had little, if any, chance of recovery.

  * * *

  “WE HAVE TO GO AFTER THEM!”

  “We will,” Conner assured Dallas. He’d just finished telling Gavin and Ethan about the injured mare and her colt. “Just not now. It’ll be dark soon. And the ATVs will only scare her away. We’ll come back later. On horseback.”

  “When?”

  “Soon.” Conner looked at Gavin, who confirmed the plan with a nod.

  “Tomorrow?”

  “More likely the day after.”

  Conner had an interview early Monday morning. Though he didn’t have much hope of landing the job—the hiring manager had indicated there were several excellent candidates being considered—he wanted to spend Sunday afternoon preparing. Clean shirt. Suit pressed. Fresh copies of his résumé and references. MapQuest directions to the location printed out.

  “Can I come, too?” Dallas pleaded.

  “Sorry. No riding, remember?”

  Her hand went to her tummy.

  “Speaking of getting dark...” Ethan had removed the toolbox from where it was strapped onto the back of his ATV. “We’d better fix this wagon wheel while there’s still some light.”

  The three men worked well together. Being the one with the most experience, Ethan supervised. It was like old times. The only one missing was Clay. During their childhood, and later as teenagers, the four of them had been inseparable and the bonds they formed unbreakable.

  At least, Conner had thought they were unbreakable.

  Eleven years ago, after Gavin and Ethan’s mother died due to complications from a heart transplant, a feud had developed between Clay’s father and Wayne Powell, Gavin and Ethan’s dad. Having to choose, and hating it, Conner had sided with the Powells. It seemed to everyone at the time that Clay’s father was in the wrong. Nonetheless, Conner kept in occasional contact with Clay, unable to cut his friend out of his life entirely.