Ana Leigh

by The Mackenzies

  “Maybe this isn’t so bad after all,” she conceded.

  “The rest is easy, Rosie. Now you talk to the horse—and I don’t mean ‘giddup’ or ‘whoa.’ You talk to it with the reins and the pressure of your knees. So let go of that saddle horn, and hold the reins lightly in your hand. Don’t jerk or pull on them.”

  “Which hand?” She was feeling the flutter of butterflies in her stomach.

  “Your left. Always keep your right hand free—in case you have to draw your Colt, for instance.”

  “Oh, yes. I expect to do a lot of that,” she said nervously.

  “Out here, a man needs two things to stay alive: a fast horse and a faster gun.”

  “And what does a woman need?” she asked.

  He grinned. “A man with a fast horse and a faster gun.”

  “Are you suggesting a woman can’t exist out here without a man to protect her?”

  “She can in a larger city, but there are too many towns like Brimstone that still have a lot of taming to do.”

  “I won’t argue about that.”

  “That’s refreshing. Now, gently nudge the horse with both knees.”

  “Oh-h-h,” she shouted, when the mare took several steps forward.

  “Now suppose you want the horse to turn right: tighten up on the right rein and nudge the mare with your right knee.” She tried it, and, miraculously, the mare turned right. “Now do the same with the left rein and knee.”

  “I think you’ve got this horse trained, MacKenzie,” she said when the horse obeyed.

  The more she experimented, the more confident she became. In no time, she lost her fear of falling off, and soon Zach had her trotting away a short distance, turning the horse, and returning to him.

  “I never realized how easy this is,” she said.

  “Just remember: the harder you nudge the horse, the faster it will run.”

  “You needn’t worry about that. I have no intentions of running any races.”

  “But it also applies to the reins. The tighter the rein, the sharper the turn, and if you rein up suddenly, the horse will come to a quick stop and you could get thrown.”

  “I understand. Now how do I get down from here?”

  “Same way you got up. Shift forward a little, put your weight on the left stirrup, and swing your right leg back over the saddle.”

  She did it effortlessly and smoothly. “You’re a good teacher, Zach.”

  “Just don’t get overconfident,” he warned. “This is a docile mare who’s used to being ridden often. Not all horses are that predictable, so don’t take any chances on an animal you’re not familiar with.”

  Rose felt quite confident by the time they returned to her boardinghouse. After she said good-bye to Zach and stepped inside, Mrs. White handed her an envelope.

  “Rose, dear, while you were gone, Mr. Rayburn came to see you. He left you this note.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. White.”

  Dismayed, Rose hurried to her room. She had missed an opportunity to see Stephen because of that stupid riding lesson. And even worse, if he should ask, how would she explain her absence?

  She tore open the envelope. The short note said he regretted having missed her and hoped she would be available the following afternoon if he came to call.

  It was a relief to know that Stephen hadn’t given up on her; but in the future she would be wise to avoid any future contact with Zach MacKenzie. She put aside the note, and changed into her uniform.

  Rose was halfway through serving the dinner meal when the pain set in. Muscles that she didn’t even realize she had ached from her knees up. Even the cheeks of her rear end were sore, and the simple movement of taking a step caused excruciating pain.

  She pushed herself to get through the dinner hour, and as soon as the shift ended Rose went back to the boardinghouse and soaked in a tub of hot water, despite the day’s ninety-degree temperature.

  As she sat in the tub with vapor steaming the mirror, Rose vowed that in the future she’d stick to stagecoaches and buggies. Leave the narrow trails to the more intrepid. She’d never climb on the back of a horse again.

  Surprisingly enough, she slept peacefully.

  As promised, Stephen called on her in the afternoon, and they went for another carriage ride. He was his usual pleasant self, but she discovered he lacked a sense of humor—far different from Zach MacKenzie, who often succeeded in making her laugh.

  And when Rose went to bed that night, she lay and thought about the outing with Stephen. He had begun to ask her questions about her past. She had hedged most of the answers. Somehow it had been easier to tell Zach the truth about her childhood than it had been Stephen. She’d merely told him she’d been orphaned at seventeen.

  You’re trying too hard to please him, she told herself, just before she fell asleep.

  By the time they parted after the next day’s carriage ride, she could tell Stephen had more than a casual interest in her, though he had made no attempt to kiss her.

  Yet somehow, Rose found herself wondering what Zach MacKenzie had been up to. There’d been no sign of him for two days.

  Zach hugged the shadows as he waited for Will Grainger. Tait had kept him busy for the last two nights, and this was the first chance he’d had to slip away to meet Will in their usual spot.

  Will suddenly appeared like a specter out of the darkness.

  “I was beginning to think I’d have to come looking for you,” Will said.

  “These past two days Tait’s had me doctoring the brands on those cattle in that box canyon.”

  “I went to Zanesville,” Will said, “and you were right. There’s been a lot of cattle shipped out of there lately.”

  “Was it a Lazy B brand? That’s how we’ve been doctoring those cows.”

  “Yeah. Looked up the brand in the Stockgrowers’ Book. It’s a brand registered to an S. Breakman. A month ago, five hundred head of Lazy B were shipped to Kansas City. Last week, another five hundred. But none of the locals are familiar with this brand, or with any Mr. S. Breakman.”

  “And you can bet that now that we’ve finished venting those brands, there’ll soon be another five hundred shipped. Tait won’t say who he’s taking orders from, but Rayburn’s leaving town tomorrow. That’ll give me a chance to get into his house, and maybe I can find some evidence. But I’d better get back now. Take care of yourself, old man,” Zach said in parting. “Things are beginning to heat up here.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me, sonny,” Will replied. “I’ve forgotten more about being a lawman than you’ll ever hope to know.”

  As Zach rode back to the bunkhouse, he thought of Rose’s hope of marrying Rayburn. Zach hoped that for her sake, Rayburn wasn’t involved in this rustling.

  To Rose’s surprise, Stephen appeared at the restaurant during the breakfast hour the following morning. She had little time to talk to him while serving her tables, but they did manage to exchange a few words. He told her he was leaving on the morning train and would be gone for several days.

  Sadly, she waved good-bye to him as the train pulled out. The next day Brimstone was holding a Fourth of July celebration, and Fred Harvey had ordered the restaurant closed for the day. Rose had been looking forward to spending the holiday with Stephen; now that wasn’t going to happen.

  Chapter 7

  When Rose left work after the lunch train pulled out, Zach was waiting for her, a horse tied again to the back of the buggy. He smiled and doffed his hat. “Hi, Rosie, may I offer you a ride?”

  “If you think I’m taking any more riding lessons, you’re mistaken.”

  “I rented this buggy hoping you would enjoy a relaxing ride.”

  “That was very presumptuous of you, MacKenzie.”

  “I know where there’s a quiet, shady grove of elm and willow with a cool spring. Wouldn’t you like to get away from this dusty town for a short while?”

  “I’d like to get away from this dusty town for a long while—forever to
be exact,” she declared. “I haven’t seen you and your gang around for a couple days. I thought Stephen might have sent you all packing.”

  “You missed me!”

  “That’s not what I said.” She continued on her way, but he followed.

  “Think of it, querida, just the two of us. Cool . . . shady . . . peaceful . . .”

  “Groping . . . panting . . . kissing. I’m not stupid, MacKenzie.”

  “Rosie!” he exclaimed, feigning indignation. “You do me an injustice. I swear I won’t touch you.” Then his warm chuckle caused her to smile. “Unless, of course, you insist.”

  “In your dreams, MacKenzie!” she said, trying not to laugh. Why did he have to be so darned engaging? For several seconds she tottered between going with him and telling him to drive on. With the relationship between her and Stephen growing, she’d be wise to avoid Zach. But the thought of getting away from the town was too tempting to refuse. Besides, what harm could come from a buggy ride? “You promise to keep your distance?”

  He raised a hand. “On my honor.”

  “All right, I’ll take you at your word.”

  “That’s my girl!”

  He reined up and she climbed into the buggy. “But I have to be back in two hours.”

  Rose didn’t quite know what to think about Zach MacKenzie. He certainly seemed to be a cut above the gang he rode with, and for some bizarre reason she trusted him. Was it intuition or just wishful thinking?

  After about thirty minutes, she wondered if she’d put her trust in the wrong man. The area had become very rugged, with rocky cliffs and deep chasms. Then suddenly the copse he’d described appeared out of nowhere, like an oasis.

  Zach’s strong hands encircled her waist as he lifted her out of the buggy. She liked the feel of his touch too much. Hurrying away, Rose sat down in the shade of the spreading branches of an elm tree while he filled a canteen with the cool water from the spring.

  “I thought you’d become a working cowboy, MacKenzie. What are you doing in town?” she asked, after a refreshing drink.

  “Rayburn went to Dallas to buy some stock. With no cattle left, there’s not that much to do on the ranch. So Tait, Pike, and Cain stayed back there, and the rest of us came to town with Rayburn. He told us to remain here until he returns.”

  She leaned back against the tree trunk and he plopped down beside her. “Have you worked on a ranch before, Zach?”

  He cocked his head in amusement. “Lady, I was born and raised on a ranch.” He glanced at the cool stream. “You have any objections if I take a bath in that water?”

  “I certainly do. I didn’t come here to watch you bathe, MacKenzie.”

  “Then join me?” He started to pull off his boots.

  She felt a rise of disappointment. “Why did I believe you’d honor your word? Is this why you brought me out here: to get me to take off my clothes? You’re insulting my intelligence.”

  “Now don’t go getting all puckered up, Rosie. Where’s the harm? You must be wearing a combination or bloomers. I see them in store windows.”

  “And that’s not the only place, I’m sure.”

  “Do as you want. I’ve brought along a bar of soap and I’m going to jump in, wash off the dust, and cool off. I’ll keep my drawers on, if that will make you happy.”

  “You’re such a gentleman, MacKenzie,” she said tartly.

  He quickly stripped down to his underwear and dived into the water. “Rosie, come in and play,” he crooned.

  After five minutes of watching him soaping himself and diving under the water, she began to envy him. The urge to rid herself of her hot layers of clothing and join him became overwhelming. But that was just what he wanted, of course. Instead, she removed her apron. Folded it carefully and put it aside. Removing her shoes and stockings, she spread out his shirt on the riverbank and sat down on it, dangling her feet in the water.

  The cool water felt exquisite, and she sat enjoying the moment as she watched him soaping and rinsing his hair.

  “You could use a haircut, MacKenzie.”

  “I’ve got a pair of scissors in my saddlebags, if you know how to cut hair,” he said, climbing out of the water.

  “A woman has to know how, MacKenzie. A hairdresser is not always as conveniently available as a barber is for a man.”

  He grabbed his jeans, ducked behind a shrub, and came out with his pants on and carrying his wet underwear. After wringing them out, he spread them out on the ground.

  Rose moved back to the shade of the tree and waited while Zach got several items out of his saddlebags.

  “I’m not making any promises,” she said, when he handed them to her.

  “I trust you, Rosie.” He sat down beside her, and she knelt to trim his hair. It was thick and silky, almost sensual to the touch. Before she realized, she’d lost herself in the task.

  After sitting down, Zach had closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift. As usual they were about Rose—which had been the case since the moment he’d seen her.

  He’d never met a woman like Rose Dubois before. Her lovely face, that red hair of hers, and those damn blue eyes all combined to challenge him to just try and ignore her. She knew the effect she had on him, and she made no attempt to pretend she didn’t know.

  But he couldn’t help grinning, because she was right. Trouble was besides having that gorgeous face, that incredible red hair, those irresistible blue eyes, the most kissable mouth he’d ever encountered, and the most delicious kiss he’d ever tasted, she’d also had the most desirable body he’d ever lusted for, and the most seductive fragrance.

  “I could find you in the dark.”

  “What? she asked.

  “Your perfume. I could find you in the dark, Rosie.”

  “That’s comforting to know in the event I’m ever lost,” she said lightly. “There, all done. You look much better.” She handed him the comb and scissors, then brushed the hair off his shouders.

  Her touch on his bare flesh roped through him and knotted his insides. “You gonna shave me, too?”

  “Are you sure you want to trust me with a razor that close to your throat?” she teased.

  “I think I’m a pretty good judge of character, Miz Rose.” He soaped up his shaving cup and handed it to her.

  “Is that why you’re riding with Jess Tait?” She smeared shaving soap all over his chin and cheeks.

  “Where did you learn to shave a man, Rosie?”

  She hesitated for an instant, then replied, “My father. Now tip your head back a little and don’t move.” She began to scrape away the soap and whiskers.

  He couldn’t speak while she shaved his chin, but he enjoyed her leaning over him. Her lips were parted slightly, and her tongue toyed with her upper lip as she concentrated on the razor strokes. Her luscious lips were mere inches from his, and her hair hung down loosely, screening their faces behind a silken curtain.

  What the hell, his body was already on fire. He might as well go out in a big blaze instead of a slow burn. As soon as she lowered the razor, he pulled her head to his.

  Memories were sweet to savor, but were mere appetizers compared to the reality of kissing Rose Dubois. He would never tire of that taste.

  When the kiss ended, she pulled away. “Why did you have to go and do that, MacKenzie? You’ve spoiled everything.”

  “Rosie, there’s no way of spoiling a kiss between us.”

  A patch of shaving soap was smeared on her cheek, and he wiped it away with a finger.

  “But there mustn’t be any more. I like being with you, Zach. We have fun together. But I don’t want you to think I’m looking for anything other than friendship.”

  “I think we are friends, Rose.” He wiped off his face and took the shaving cup from her and put it aside.

  “Then why did you kiss me?”

  “I guess I’m fated to be the moth to your flame. Now, answer my question. Who taught you how to shave a man? And don’t try to tell me it was your father.”
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  For a long moment she hesitated, then she leaned back against the tree.

  “Only someone with a weak mind would refer to Wes Sturges as a man.”

  “Who’s Wes Sturges?”

  She swallowed hard, and he saw the bitterness in her eyes. “I told you how my father died. Well, that was the night I met Sheriff Wes Sturges. He brought the news about my father, and implied that a witness had claimed my father had a female accomplice. I was implicated. Apparently he liked what he saw, because he told me he wouldn’t involve me in the robbery if I took up with him. I had nothing to do with the robbery, but I had no way of proving it—so I was guilty by association.

  “I didn’t want to go to jail. Wes was big and handsome, and the only man who’d shown me any kindness. I fell hard for him, and moved in with him.” Her face hardened. “I soon found out how naive I’d been. He was a brutal animal who enjoyed inflicting pain—on me and his unfortunate prisoners. For the next two years, my life became a living hell.”

  “Why didn’t you leave him?” he asked quietly.

  “At first there was the fear of prison. Then I began to feel prison couldn’t be any worse than being with him, so I tried to run away. He always caught up to me. It wasn’t that he loved me—Lord knows he had plenty of other women, even then. Wes kept me for the enjoyment of his power over me. In or out of bed.”

  “How’d you finally get away?” A muscle flicked in his jaw as his gaze remained on her face.

  “He was cruel once too often, and one of the prisoners strangled him to death with his bare hands. I couldn’t get away from Louisiana fast enough.”

  “So Sturges is why you distrust all lawmen?”

  “He was the worst, I guess. But the others I’ve encountered weren’t much better: they either were as crooked as Sheriff Bloom, or made up their minds about me because of my circumstances. When I read the ad for Harvey Girls, I saw it as an opportunity to leave my past behind. Of course, with my background, I’d never have made it through the training if it hadn’t been for my friend Emily. She taught me the manners I needed to know, and I taught her how to survive in a tougher environment than she was used to.”