Moon Racer

by Constance O'Banyon

  "I'm sure he is accustomed to women appraising him. As for me, I have no more interest in him than he has in me. Besides, Quince told me he is engaged to a woman in Philadelphia."

  Glory dried a glass and handed it to Abby to put away in the cupboard. She studied her young sisterin-law closely. "Yes, but that puts her back north, and he's here, isn't he? And... unless I miss my guess, Major Tremain has just met a beautiful girl he can't get out of his mind."

  Abby shook her head. "What the two of you don't seem to understand is that we don't like each other. And furthermore, I am not even pretty, much less a beauty."

  Glory gave Crystal a calculating glance. "Let's finish quickly so we can all join the men."

  When they had finished the dishes, Abby reluctantly went along with Glory and Crystal. She would much rather have escaped to her bedroom than join the family in their worship of the major.

  Her brothers were sitting in cane-bottom chairs, and Jonah was leaning against the wooden porch post. "Where's Papa?" Abby wanted to know.

  "At the stable;' Brent said, anger lacing his words. "It seems he has a new racehorse that won one of the races yesterday. He said something about hand-feeding the victor."

  Both brothers got up and gave their wives their chairs, then seated themselves on the steps. Abby wandered to the other end of the porch, where she stood half in shadow. She was in a good position to study their guest without his knowing it. His posture was as erect as if he were on parade. The brass buttons on his uniform glistened from the lamplight that spilled out the front door. His uniform was definitely not army-issue, but had probably been tailored from quality material. At least he wasn't wearing his sword and holster, as he had been earlier in the day.

  Abby noticed that even in repose he kept his coat buttoned; she supposed to remind everyone of his rank. He was lean and tall, his shoulders wide, his body beautiful. His black boots came almost to his knees and held a high polish. She wondered how many aides it took to keep him so splendidly clothed.

  Jonah was amused by something Brent had said; his deep laughter sent warmth throughout Abby. She turned to look at the moon, wishing she had gone to bed instead of joining the others. Once again she was reminded how alone she was. Brent looked at Crystal as if she were the only woman in the world, and Quince couldn't keep his gaze from wandering to Glory.

  She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she was startled when Quince called out to her. "Abby, you wouldn't mind taking Jonah around the ranch tomorrow morning, would you?" He turned his attention to Jonah. "I would take you myself, but one of our mares has the colic, and she is only weeks away from dropping her foal. Besides, Abby will help you choose the best horse for your needs."

  She moved out of the shadows and sat on the wooden rail of the porch. Good manners and her brothers would require that she be gracious. "If you need me to," was all she could manage to say. She didn't enjoy the thought of spending a whole day with the major.

  His inquiring gaze locked with hers. "I wouldn't want to take you away from anything pressing."

  She would have liked to have told him to find his own way to the north pasture. "I have nothing that can't wait," she said reluctantly.

  His brow arched-she didn't fool him for one moment. He knew she didn't want to go with him. "Thank you, Miss Hunter. I'll try not to encroach on your time any longer than necessary."

  His tone had been patronizing, but Abby seemed to be the only one who noticed, or was she? Glory looked at her inquiringly and frowned.

  "Well, if that is all 'settled," Quince remarked, standing and reaching for his wife. "You'll be in good hands with my sister tomorrow, Jonah. I'll meet up with you when you get back."

  Good-night wishes were exchanged, and Abby watched her brothers leave with their wives. It took her a moment to realize that their guest was standing beside her. She turned, and they looked at each other without saying a word. His breath touched her hair, and she felt a sensation like hot honey running through her veins.

  "We should get-an early start, Major," she managed to say, stepping away from him. "I'll meet you at the barn at six."

  He was still watching her. "Good night, Miss Hunter," he said finally. "I believe I'll just stay out here for a while. It's very tranquil this time of night."

  He wouldn't think it was so tranquil, she thought bitterly, if he looked beneath the facade her family had created for others to see.

  "I hope you will be comfortable. If you should need anything, just ask Frances."

  "You are more than kind, Miss Hunter."

  The humor was back in his voice, and she resented him for it; in fact, she resented everything about him.

  And yet she felt reluctant to leave him. Something vibrated through her, filling her with such sweetness, she had to swallow twice before she could find her voice.

  "I must thank you for not telling my brothers about this morning. They would not have approved of what I did." She was quiet for a moment, waiting for him to speak. When he made no reply, she asked, "Does your shoulder bother you?"

  He laughed softly. "Not so much. Rest easy, Miss Hunter; only my pride was hurt." He turned away from her and stared into the night sky.

  The screen door creaked when she opened it. "In the morning at six," she reminded him before going inside.

  From her bedroom, Abby could hear when her father returned from the stable and bid Jonah goodnight. She found herself pacing between her bed and the door, her stomach knotted. Finally, in exhaustion, she threw herself on the bed and buried her face in the coverlet.

  Why did he have to come to the Half-Moon? She was bewildered by him, and she didn't know why. After she undressed and slipped between the sheets, Abby pounded her pillow and closed her eyes. Restlessly she wrestled with her sheet and pillow until long after midnight, and then she fell asleep.

  Abby took a quick sip of milk, staring at Frances over the rim of the glass. She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "How long ago did you say he ate?"

  "It's been a good hour now. Said he wanted to get one of the men to show him around a bit. He said I was to tell you that he'd be waiting for you."

  "He's early," Abby replied sharply. "It's just like him to do something like this."

  Frances paused in her biscuit making with dough caked on her fingers. "I like the cut of that man. You balked yesterday when I said he's a real gentleman, but he is. I figured out a long time ago that there are two kinds of people in this world: those who want to talk about themselves all the time, and those who listen to what others have to say. He sat right here in this kitchen and talked to me while he ate this morning-treated me just like he was interested in what I was saying."

  Abby casty the housekeeper a disgusted look, grabbed her hat, and picked up the canvas bag Frances had packed with food. "You don't really know him. It would be just like that man to be pacing while he waits for me."

  "Then you'd better get going, hadn't you?"

  With boundless energy, Abby raced across the yard to the barn. When she entered the dark interior, the sun had just touched the eastern sky, shedding shards of light through the cracks in the wood. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the lone lantern that hung from one of the stalls, where Navidad and Curly were deep in conversation with Major Tremain.

  Drawing an irritated breath, she took measured steps in their direction, wishing she did not have to be alone with the major today.

  Curly must have been telling one of his yarns, because Jonah was laughing heartily. But when Jonah noticed her walking toward him, his amusement faded, and he centered his attention on her. Abby was made more aware of how inadequately she was dressed. There was an expression on his face that she did not understandprobably stark disapproval, which only encouraged her to straighten her spine.

  "I've been looking over the ranch," he said by way of greeting.

  "I said we'd start at six; it's fifteen till."

  Abby stopped so close to Jonah that he could smell her soft ho
ney scent again. He struggled with the smile that threatened to curve his lips. "I'm an early riser-always have been."

  He looked far too happy, and it galled her. "Are you ready to go?"

  He nodded. "Anytime you are."

  She walked past him to the stall where she kept her working horse, Sassy. "How much of the ranch do you want to see?" she asked, slipping the bit between the brown-and-white pinto's teeth.

  He felt motivated to help her saddle her horse, but instinct told him she would not appreciate the gesture. "I'd like to see the mustangs Quince mentioned. And he suggested you might show me a couple of horses that could be trained to a sidesaddle."

  She paused as she tightened the cinch beneath her horse. "You want a horse for a lady?"

  "That's right. Quince said you could train one for me. I don't doubt your ability after seeing you ride yesterday."

  "I don't ride sidesaddle."

  He gave her an audacious look. "I believe I came to that conclusion on my own."

  She led Sassy out of the stall and shoved their lunch into the saddlebags. Why did he have to make her so mad? she wondered, as she watched the way his midnight-colored hair fell softly across his forehead. She wanted to touch it, to touch him. He was so male, so overpowering, that she wanted to walk right into those arms and feel them close around her.

  She tossed a rope over her saddle horn in disgust. She could only imagine what his reaction would be if she did such a thing.

  Against his will, Jonah's attention was drawn to the sway of Abby's hips, in spite of the baggy trousers she wore. The heat that coursed through him was so powerful it left him shaken. He was stunned that this little vixen, the one woman who was forbidden to him, could stir his passion so fiercely, and she wasn't even trying. He was glad she kept her distance, because he was not sure he could resist her if she had shown him the slightest encouragement. Even now heat swelled his need with such an intensity it left him reeling.

  He forced his attention away from her body and watched her take a rifle off the hook, then shove it into her saddle holster. "Are you expecting trouble, Miss Hunter?"

  "You always expect trouble out here," she told him, swinging into the saddle. "If there is none, you count yourself lucky."

  He smiled. "I see. I hope, if the need arises, you will protect me."

  Her lips clamped together tightly as she attempted to suppress the angry words that begged to be spoken. Instead she guided her horse out of the barn and waited for him to join her. With the familiar creak of leather, he rode up beside her.

  "Did you fill your canteen, Major?"

  Abby's face flushed with indignation when he laughed aloud and replied, "Sometimes you just have to laugh at the absurd." Then his eyes gleamed, re fleeting humor. "I am in the cavalry, Miss Hunter; I don't go anywhere without water."

  She felt like such a fool, and his laughter only made her feel worse. He was an officer who led troops into battle, she reminded herself. Of course he would know the fundamental survival skills that were probably taught to first-year cadets at West Point.

  As they rode away, Jonah was still amused, and that further nettled Abby. So far she was not enjoying herself, and the morning had just started. Later she would have some choice words to say to Quince for volunteering her to spend the day with his friend.

  The two of them rode abreast and in silence until the house was out of sight. When they came to a fence, Abby bent to open a gate and, after they rode through, fastened it behind them. They rode through the tall grass at a steady pace, scattering a large herd of deer as they went.

  Jonah felt the warmth of silent companionship spread through him like a gentle wind. He could imagine himself owning a spread like this one with Abby riding beside - He shook his head. No, not Abby-Patricia.

  He had fallen behind and spurred his mount to catch up with her. The sight of that frivolous little braid swaying down her back was too enticing for his peace of mind.

  At one point Abby noticed that Jonah kept glancing behind him, and he finally halted. She reined in and raised an inquiring brow at him.

  "That's the horse you were riding yesterday; why is he following us?"

  A smile lit her face when the stallion galloped up to her and nudged her hand. "Moon Racer is like a pet he thinks he can go anywhere I go." Her fingers trailed down the stallion's thick mane. "Once he even followed me onto the porch, thinking he could go in the house with me." She ran her hand down the roan's neck. "You should have seen Frances take a broom to him that day."

  "Quince told me how you saved Moon Racer's life by bottle-feeding him."

  She laid her face against the stallion's neck. "He's still just a big baby who wants affection."

  While Jonah watched her with the horse, he felt a tightening in his heart. There were so many aspects to Abby's personality that he couldn't decide who she really was. One moment she could be happy and glowing, like now, then the next moment, saucy and defensive. She was like a spring mist, visible, but untouchable by the human hand. She was intelligent and able to hold her own in a conversation. But there was also a distant, cold part of her that was like a winter wind, intense and relentless.

  He could remember, as a child, catching a firefly in his hand-he had felt wonderment at the delicate glow that had spread outward from his fingers. In the end, he had opened his hand and allowed the firefly its freedom.

  Would it be like that with Abby if he tried to catch her?

  He had a burning need to learn more about herhe wanted to hear her laughter sing on the wind. He wanted to know the real Abby. He wanted to hold her until the deep sadness disappeared from her eyes.

  She smiled and leaned closer to him and whispered, "Moon Racer is jealous of any other horse I ride."

  Jonah watched her eyes sparkle with devilment, and for the first time he heard her laughter. The sound struck deep, arousing powerful emotions, and ignited an answering happiness in him. She was the most enchanting creature he had ever seen. If he wasn't careful, she would beguile him-if she hadn't already done so.

  "You see, Major, I've never told Moon Racer that he's a horse-he thinks he's a person."

  The great stallion tossed his head and whinnied, pushing against the pinto and causing the mare to edge sideways.

  "Moon Racer, stop it," Abby demanded, trying to guide Sassy away from the aggressive stallion's powerful teeth.

  Before Abby could intervene, the roan had already nipped the pinto's neck, and the frightened mare reared and backed away.

  When Abby finally calmed the frantic Sassy, she slid out of the saddle and went to Moon Racer. "You should be ashamed of yourself." Even as she scolded him, she drew his head toward her and patted his back. "Why do you have to be jealous? You know how important you are to me."

  Moon Racer would have gone after the mare again, but Abby grabbed his mane and yanked his neck toward her. "Don't do that!"

  She looked up at Jonah. "I'm sorry about this. If I had known Christmas put Moon Racer in this pasture, I would have taken us in a different direction. I am going to have to change mounts."

  Jonah leaned forward in the saddle. "So you let the stallion have his way?"

  "Not always, but I will today." She went back to the mare and unsaddled and unbridled her. Looking Sassy over to make certain that the stallion had not drawn blood, Abby nodded in satisfaction when she saw no injury. With a gentle pat on the mare's rump, she sent her galloping across the pasture. "I'll have Christmas bring her home tomorrow."

  Before Jonah could offer his help, Abby had already thrown her saddle over Moon Racer and cinched it. He watched her smile at the horse, dimples dancing in her cheeks.

  "You can't always have me to yourself," she said to the stallion before climbing into the saddle. Then she turned to Jonah. "I know he's spoiled, but he almost died as a colt. He grew up without a mother, like I-"

  Even though Abby had clamped her lips together, Jonah knew she had stopped short of telling him about her motherless childhood. She was tugg
ing at his heart, and other lower extremities, and he didn't seem to have any defense against her.

  He found himself thinking how difficult her life must be, knowing her father had murdered her mother. The woman in the portrait had definitely been a lady, and if she had lived, her gentle guidance would have helped her daughter. He wondered if Abby dressed in trousers because she had never learned how to be a woman, or if it was her way of defying convention.

  He tried to think of Patricia, but her image was blocked by Abby's mischievous green eyes.

  He had to concentrate on something else, say something, anything, to distract himself. "Now that I see how much the stallion means to you, I know why you were offended when I offered to buy him."

  Her mood changed from somber to hostile. "Moon Racer is as much a part of this ranch as the soil itself Many of the horses you see here were sired by him, and many of our neighbors' horses as well."

  She nudged the stallion forward, and they rode away from the pasture, through another gate, until they finally reached a hilly meadow.

  "The two horses you asked to see are just over the next hill," Abby told Jonah. "If you choose one of them, I'll train it for you."

  He glanced out at a land that looked like Eden, but there were thorns and secrets in this paradise. The woman who rode beside him was like an unbroken horse herself, wild and untamed.

  Abby Hunter had disturbed him almost to the brink of madness. He'd had trouble going to sleep the night before, knowing that she was in the room next to his. He had been awake to hear her restless pacing and wondered at the reason for it.

  She reined in the powerful stallion. "After lunch I'll take you to see the mustangs," she told him.

  Jonah nodded, his attention centered just above her head because he dared not look into those mesmerizing eyes. "I'll look forward to it," he answered, wishing she had never come bounding out of that tree at him, disrupting his orderly life.

  Frances had prepared a feast.

  She had certainly outdone herself for the major's benefit. Abby thought of the sandwiches and fruit the housekeeper usually packed for her on the days she couldn't get home for lunch.