“Ellie?”
Look
She motioned with her hand, and parted the neckline of her dress even more, then tilted her head to expose the prominent scar that ran partly around her neck. She flinched when his hand reached up to run his fingers along her skin. He drew back instantly.
“Who did this to you?” The question was more of a growl.
Ellie sucked in a quick breath. She began by making the sign for girl and her age.
I was eight years old. My mother and I were out gathering wild berries, something we enjoyed doing together. Next thing I knew, four men surrounded us. Two white men and two Indians. They argued among each other. The Indians only wanted to take our horses, but the two white men took my mother, and –
Lance grabbed her wrists, stopping her from continuing. Ellie’s eyes went wide as she stared up at him. Anger smoldered in the depths of his dark gaze. He shook his head. She’d struggled with the signs, but clearly he’d understood the majority of what she’d tried to convey.
Ellie blinked away the tears that blurred her vision. She tugged her arms away and Lance instantly released her. She couldn’t stop explaining now. All that had been bottled up inside her for all these years, unable to tell someone who understood, demanded release.
She had to get the rest of her story out. Lance had spared her from talking about what had happened to her mother, but he knew. He was the only one who’d listened to the truth, to the whole story that her father had refused to hear. He’d immediately stopped listening when, after a lengthy convalescence, she’d only managed to write that Indians had wanted their horses.
I screamed for my mother. She begged them not to hurt me. The Indians took our horses and left. The last thing I remember is the pain across my neck after one of the outlaw men stood over me with a knife in his hand.
“Outlaws cut your throat, and you lost your ability to speak?”
Ellie nodded. The doctor said I would never speak again. I was lucky to be alive.
Lance stared at her. The expression on his face revealed a mixture of anger and trying to comprehend what she’d told him. No doubt her poor attempts at expressing more complex thoughts made it more difficult for him to decipher her gestures, but he’d understood enough.
“Your aunt and father’s hatred for Indians is because of what happened to you and your mother.” It wasn’t a question.
Ellie nodded. She moved her index and middle finger across her mouth in quick succession, then cupped her hand against her ear, and made the sign for father.
After I recovered, I couldn’t make it clear that it wasn’t Indians. It’s what my father believed, and he wouldn’t accept anything else.
Lance raked his fingers through his hair and stared off into the distance. Clearly, when he’d asked his question, he hadn’t expected the reason she’d given for her inability to speak. He gazed at her, his eyes in constant motion as he studied her face. When he lifted his hand to her scar again, Ellie closed her eyes. His touch was feather-light and sent a rush of warmth through her. A tear squeezed between her lids. She swayed toward the stranger who understood her better than anyone.
A strangled sob escaped her throat as she fell against his chest. Lance’s body stiffened momentarily before his arms wrapped around her, at first hesitantly, then stronger until she was enveloped in a protective embrace.
His chest rose and fell with each breath and his heart beat strongly against his ribs. Ellie leaned her head against him while a tender hand stroked up and down her back. He murmured something, but the meaning of the words was lost to her. It didn’t matter. Right now, Lance made her feel safe and understood. Her hands crept around his middle, and she clung to what he offered.
Time ceased to exist as he stood and held her. One of the horses snorted behind her and whinnied. Lance eased his arms out from around her. His hand lightly stroked her hair a final time, then his fingers slid along her jaw. Ellie raised her eyes to meet his. His dark stare smoldered with something that spoke directly to her soul. She swayed toward him again as he dipped his head forward. Time once again stood still while her heart pounded in her chest. Lance was going to kiss her.
Mahto’s loud and unexpected bark at her feet startled her into taking an unsteady step back. Lance instantly dropped his hand. The intense emotion in his eyes from a moment ago was gone.
Ellie’s cheeks flushed. She blinked and looked away, bending forward to pat Mahto on the head with trembling fingers.
If you hadn’t barked, Lance would have kissed me.
She smiled at the dog, who gazed up at her with, what appeared to be a satisfied look in his eyes. He panted with his tongue partially sticking out as if he was smiling at her.
Ellie inhaled a deep breath. Lance had nearly kissed her. Now what? She’d never before been held in a man’s embrace except her father’s, and that had been vastly different than being held in Lance’s arms. Her heart pounded fiercely against her ribs as a flood of warmth rushed through her, making her limbs go weak and feel alive at the same time. Surely these were the first stirrings of love in her heart for a man. She raised her hands, hesitated, then moved her palms in an arc out and away from her.
Thank you
Mahto rubbed his head against her leg and whined. Ellie tore her eyes away from Lance and smiled at the dog again, patting his shaggy head.
“We really need to get back,” Lance mumbled, gathering the reins to Ellie’s horse and bringing it close for her to mount. After he’d helped her into the saddle, the brief glimpse she’d caught of his eyes revealed confusion and frustration. He didn’t look at her at all once he’d swung up on his horse.
What have I done wrong?
Ellie stared at his broad back as he led the way back to the ranch. Lance set a quick pace, riding silently in front of her the entire time along a narrow trail. It gave her no chance to communicate with him. The horses splashed through the creek and Lance reined his mount to a stop by the trees where they’d met for the last two days. Wordlessly, he helped her from the saddle and handed her the notebook she’d left behind.
Ellie reached for his arm when he turned away from her. She raised her fist to her forehead, twisting it slightly.
Have I angered you?
Lance frowned and the muscles of his arm tensed. He darted a quick look toward the ranch house.
“Ellie, we can’t meet like this anymore. You know enough sign to get by. If you communicate with your uncle, I’m sure he’ll be open to learning, and he can convince your aunt and father to do the same.”
Ellie shook her head. Her eyes widened. He couldn’t mean what he’d said and abandon her so abruptly.
“You’d best get back to the house.” He pulled his arm back, then reached for her horse’s reins before he swung up onto his mount. “I’m sorry, Ellie.”
Their eyes met. She held her right hand to her chest then brought it out and up, twisting it at the wrist, then pointed her thumb and index finger back to her chest, and finally swept it outward again.
Why?
Lance looked down at her from atop the horse, his jaw set firmly. He placed his palm over the center of his chest, then moved it to the left and then the right. Without saying a word, he reined his horse away from the creek and nudged the gelding into a lope.
Mahto let out a bark. The dog ran to her and licked her hand. Ellie’s vision blurred. She knelt to stroke the dog’s head. He looked up at her a final time, then ran off to follow his owner.
Chapter Ten
Lance loosened the cinch on the saddle and led the sweaty young horse he’d been working back to the barn. He’d made good progress with the colt, and a nice long gallop through the hills should have done both of them some good. At least that’s what he’d hoped for when he’d started the day, but his mind had been elsewhere.
Now that he was back at the ranch, he forced his eyes from straying to the house, to maybe catch a glimpse of . . . her. He gnashed his teeth and swore under his breath.
You wanted it this way. It’s for the best.
Breaking all ties with Ellie now before things got out of hand had been the right thing to do. The look of hurt in her eyes the other day, when he’d told her he could no longer teach her, had haunted him every minute since turning his back on her. He should have never agreed to teach her in the first place, and he’d ended up hurting her even more by ending it the way he had. It had taken all his willpower not to jump off his horse and pull her back into his arms.
After she’d told him how she’d lost her ability to talk, he’d made the mistake of holding her, and it had affected him more than he’d let on. He’d wanted to do more than hold her, more than reassure her that everything was going to be all right and that she wouldn’t have to struggle alone anymore. He knew all about feeling alone and misunderstood.
The connection he’d sensed with her from the first moment he’d seen her get out of the buggy when she’d arrived at the ranch had only grown stronger with each moment he’d spent with her. And, she felt it, too. The way she’d tugged at his heart from the very beginning had grown out of control in those moments as she’d cried in his arms. He’d done the only thing that made sense at the time. He’d run away as fast as he could. If he hadn’t, he would have kissed her.
Lance shook his head. Nothing could ever come of his attraction to her, never mind that it was mutual. There was no misinterpreting the way she’d looked at him. She was drawn to him as much as he was to her. And it went deeper than the fact that they could communicate in a way others didn’t understand.
Lance stopped at the hitching rail outside the barn. He peeled the saddle from the colt’s back, tossing it over the railing with enough force to send it crashing to the ground. The young horse shied away and would have run off if Lance hadn’t grabbed for the reins dangling on the ground at the last second. Absently, he patted the animal’s tense neck to calm him. It didn’t seem to do much good. The horse only fed off his own tension. He led the colt to one of the pens and released it.
You did the right thing, Taggart.
Lance headed for the barn. He had another horse to ride. He’d done the right thing by turning Ellie loose, but he’d hurt her deeply. He shook his head. Better to spare her feelings now than if he’d let their relationship grow stronger. She came from a good family, while he had no home, not to mention that he was a man of mixed blood. He’d told her as much when she’d asked why he was leaving.
Lance scoffed. These things hadn’t mattered as much before and hadn’t been on his mind in a long time. He might be better off than the people on the reservation, since he’d received a white man’s education at the Indian school he’d been sent to as a boy, but he would always be an outsider in both worlds. He kept to himself, and that was fine. In fact, it was better than forming attachments and then losing them. Wasn’t that why he never stayed in one place too long?
He glanced over his shoulder toward the house again. Ellie had made his mind wander in a new direction, to a place he’d always avoided – home and family. He had no family. They’d all been taken from him. He couldn’t drag Ellie into his world, and he’d never be fully accepted into hers.
“Taggart.”
Stubbs’ commanding voice droned from somewhere near the barn. Lance reached for the saddle on the ground and swung it over his shoulder.
“Where you goin’?” The foreman scurried toward him, an inquisitive glare in his eyes, which was directed at the saddle Lance carried. “You’re not thinkin’ about goin’ off ridin’ again and bein’ gone for part of the afternoon with Miss Eleanor, are you?”
Lance forced a smile. “No. You can rest assured that I won’t be taking the lady out riding again.” He locked his eyes on the shorter man. “In fact, I haven’t seen her in three days. I told her I could no longer be her teacher.”
Stubbs coughed and cleared his throat. He nodded in satisfaction. “Glad you’ve come around.” He raised his hand to pat Lance on the shoulder. “I know a pretty girl can turn a man’s head and make him think and do foolish things, but it ain’t proper for one of the hands to covet the boss’s kin.” He rubbed his hand along his jaw before adding, “If you’re in need of female company, I’m sure some of the ladies the boys visit in town would be willing to . . . ah . . . accommodate you.”
Lance laughed to conceal his true thoughts. He had no interest in the soiled doves in town.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” he said with a smile to hide his frustration. “Did you want to talk to me about something else, or can I get back to work?”
A relieved look passed over Stubbs’ face. He chuckled, then slapped Lance’s arm. “Just came to make sure you stayed out of trouble. You can go about your business.”
Lance nodded at his boss, then headed for the barn. The conversation with Stubbs had only increased the turmoil inside him. The short man seemed pleased enough to hear that Lance had no further plans to associate with Ellie.
He’d put all his insecurities about his mixed heritage behind him after running away from the school all those years ago. He’d chosen the life of a drifter after finding out he had no place among his mother’s people anymore, either, and he liked it that way. It didn’t matter whose blood ran in his veins. He didn’t stay long enough in one place to care what people thought of him. He’d made plenty of friends along the way, and worked hard not to burn bridges before moving on.
Until you met Ellie.
Perhaps it was time to saddle up and move on again and put some miles between himself and her. He hadn’t so much as seen a glimpse of her in three days, yet he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Instead of focusing on his work, he’d spent sleepless nights thinking about her.
Before, there’d been no thoughts of what the next day would bring, much less the next month or year. It had only taken two days in Ellie’s company for his head to be a jumbled mess. Suddenly, the shade of his skin mattered.
“I loved your father, Hunts with a Lance. I knew it was wrong, but I could not fight what was in my heart.”
His mother’s words echoed in his mind. He hadn’t understood what she’d meant when he’d asked her about his father. Now he did. There was no use fighting when the heart was involved.
When he’d agreed to teach her some sign talk, he’d foolishly believed he could deal with his attraction to Ellie, and that it wouldn’t affect his thinking. His heart had quickly taken over his ability to reason. When he’d offered her a shoulder to lean on, he’d instantly realized that he was quickly reaching the point of no return, and unless he put a stop to it, he might do something they would both regret later. Hell, he’d come close to kissing her. Once that line was crossed, he’d never be able to walk away, unlike his father.
Lance reached the stall of the horse he needed to work next. The young thoroughbred hadn’t given him any trouble the day before, but the colt was tense and unfocused.
Much like you these days, Lance.
He bridled the animal and tossed the saddle onto the colt’s back, tightening the cinch while the horse danced around him.
The colt snorted as they passed the other stalls, stepping sideways and crowding against Lance’s shoulder.
“I’m riding you, not the other way around.” Lance nudged the young horse in the side with a firm jab of his fingers.
Thunder rumbled somewhere outside, the loud noise reverberating off the rafters in the barn. Several horses whinnied and paced in their stalls. The colt shied and bolted, dragging Lance out of the barn along with it. He cursed under his breath. Where the hell was his head today? He yanked on the lead line, ignoring the sharp pain in his palm. The rope had scraped his skin raw since he’d even forgotten to put on his gloves.
By the time they reached the round pen, he’d managed to calm the horse enough that he could get on its back without further incident. Off in the distance, dark clouds began to roll in, and a strong gust of wind swirled the dust around his legs. The weather clearly matched his mood today.
Lance lean
ed forward and patted the colt’s neck. He stared up at the sky. “Looks like a short ride today, fella. Unless we both want to get drenched.”
Easing down into the saddle, he squeezed with his thighs. Beneath him, the horse tensed and balked. Lance increased the pressure and added a nudge with his heels. The colt’s muscles bunched some more and it took a step back.
Lance instantly tugged on the left rein to bring the horse’s head around, then pushed him forward with a swift jab of his legs in the animal’s sides.
“You’re not gonna rear up on me,” he whispered as if he were soothing a child.
No sooner had the words left his mouth when a flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed by a loud crack of thunder that sounded like a whip. The colt underneath him bolted, lowered its head, and raised its back. The unexpected move sent Lance over the horse’s withers. He’d shifted his weight forward a second ago in an effort to prevent the animal from rearing, and he hadn’t sat back in the saddle yet. Apparently sensing that it had the upper hand, the horse bucked again before Lance found his balance. He flew over the animal’s neck, crashing into the fence.
With a loud groan, he hit the ground, then rolled swiftly to the side as the horse’s hooves came precariously close to his head. Outside the pen, Mahto barked, followed by the loud laughter of two men. Lance scrambled to his feet, clutching his upper right arm with his left hand where the horse had knocked him into the hard fence rail. He cursed, blinking the dust from his eyes to focus.
Mahto danced in front of him, barking at the scared colt, which had run to the other side of the pen. The horse snorted when someone entered the enclosure and reached for the reins that dangled on the ground.
“Trace here is gonna think I’ve been lying about your ability with horses, Taggart.”
A tall man walked toward him, holding out his hand and wearing a broad smile. Lance frowned to hide his embarrassment, dusted off his britches, then held out his hand to his former boss, Tyler Monroe.
In His Kiss: Blemished Brides, Book 4 Page 8