Lance reached the creek he needed to cross to get to the ranch. It looked more like a river today, with muddy water rushing past the spot where he’d always crossed safely before.
“Looks like we might be swimming,” he called to Mahto, scanning across the fast-moving water. Unless he wanted to ride several miles upstream to the bridge that had been built across the creek, this was the only place to cross.
With the water having risen so high, the bridge might be washed out anyway. Before he nudged his horse into the water, Mahto leapt in and swam across. The strong current carried the dog downstream. Lance reached for his rope, ready to come to his friend’s aid, but Mahto managed to make it to the opposite shore on his own.
The water reached well past his gelding’s belly as the horse pushed through the current. Lance patted the horse’s neck, letting the gelding pick his own way across. The familiar path to the barns was flooded with water and mud. When Lance reached the main barn, Stubbs was standing in a puddle that came up to his calves, holding his hat tight to his head and shouting orders at several of the cowpokes near the bunkhouse.
The foreman turned, saw him, then marched in his direction.
“About time you showed up, Taggart. We’ve got one helluva mess here,” he shouted into the wind. “The bridge got washed out further upstream and the creek’s overflowed its banks. A buncha the corrals and one of the barns is gettin’ flooded.”
Lance dismounted his horse and uncinched the girth. He reached for his rope before tossing his saddle into the barn, and led his mount into one of the open stalls.
“Stay.” He pointed at a pile of straw on the ground, and Mahto dropped his head. The obedient dog curled up on the straw, but kept an alert eye on Lance as he left the barn.
On the other side of the main barn, a tall tree that provided shade on sunnier days to several of the small corrals groaned ominously moments before a large limb snapped from the main trunk. The colt in the corral snorted and ran to the other end of the pen.
“Where do you need me first?” Lance called to the foreman, who’d grabbed a rope and was heading for one of the pens.
“Help get these horses moved to higher pastures,” Stubbs yelled, pointing at the colt and the horses in the nearby enclosures. “I’ve got mosta the boys workin’ on divertin’ the water so it don’t flood out the property any further. At least the bunkhouse is on high ground and the main house, too. Patterson’s got a buncha the horses moved already, but he had to go back to see to a leak in his roof.”
Lance nodded. He splashed through the deep puddles to reach the nearest pen. Patterson’s prized animal, the lone colt he’d been spending the most time training over the last few weeks, was in the far pen where the branch had fallen. He’d have to clear a path to get to the corral gate to get to the horse. For now, the colt appeared to be safe.
He grabbed a few more ropes and led the three young horses out of the pen, heading for one of the larger paddocks further away from the buildings. When he rushed back to get the final colt, movement from the main house caught his eye. Fiona Patterson came toward him, holding a slicker over her head. Her skirts swirled wildly around her legs as she fought against the wind.
“Has anyone seen John?” she called once she was within hearing distance.
Lance shot a hasty look over his shoulder toward the barns where he’d seen Stubbs a few minutes ago. He was no longer there. Hadn’t the foreman said that Patterson was at the house?
Behind Fiona, Ellie came running after her aunt. Her unbound auburn hair whipped around her head. She wasn’t wearing a coat, only a wool shawl that would be soaked in seconds. Lance frowned. She didn’t need to be out in this weather, getting drenched.
“The leak in the roof is getting worse,” Fiona said. “John was supposed to come back from the barn to fix it.”
Lance’s frown deepened. “Stubbs said he was at the house.”
“He had to get a tool he needed. He said he’d only be a minute, but he hasn’t returned.”
Lance shifted his gaze from Fiona’s worried look to Ellie, who’d just reached her aunt’s side.
“I’ll see if I can find him. You ladies should get back to the house.”
His eyes lingered on the girl whose hair was plastered to the side of her face, water dripping down her cheeks and chin. Damn, she looked pretty. He mentally shook his head. What a foolish thing to be thinking when her lips quivered from the cold.
“I need a few more buckets to put under the leak. We’ve used up all the pans I have in the house.”
Ellie motioned with her hands.
I’ll get the buckets
Lance was about to object, but Ellie was already in motion, ducking into the wind and rushing toward the barn.
“I’ll be right back, and I’ll find John. Maybe he’s talking to Stubbs.”
Fiona stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll see what I can do about keeping the bedroom dry in the meantime.”
Lance sprinted after Ellie. He caught her by the arm before she reached the horse pens.
“You shouldn’t be out here. Get back to the house. I’ll bring some buckets and find John.”
She shook her head and motioned with her hands.
I want to help. Aunt Fiona can’t do it all herself to keep the water out of the bedroom while we wait for Uncle John to repair the leak.
Drops of rain dripped from her lips. The look in her eyes conveyed what she wasn’t saying. For once, she wanted to feel useful to the people around her. Lance nodded. He took her hand and together they reached the barn, ducking into the dry interior.
“You get the buckets and head straight back to the house. I’ll look for John in the toolshed.”
Ellie smiled despite her quivering lips, and swiped at some wet strands of hair on her face. Mahto left his spot in the hay and greeted her with a wagging tail. Ellie patted the dog’s head.
“Here, put this on before you catch cold.” Lance stripped off his duster and wrapped it around Ellie’s shoulders. The cold air seeped through his damp shirt, but it was better that he be cold rather than Ellie. The coat nearly swallowed her up as she tucked her arms through the sleeves.
“Go straight back to the house,” he warned. After she nodded and he placed a firm kiss on her forehead, he left the barn and headed for the toolshed. Lance pulled the door open to the shed, fighting the wind.
“Mr. Patterson, are you in here?”
There was no answer. A quick glance around told him the shed was empty. Lance rushed back out and squinted through the rain. A rider splashed through the puddles, heading for the bunkhouse. When he saw Lance, he slowed his horse, staring at him from under his hat. Lance gritted his teeth and cursed under his breath. Hank Marvel, the man he’d cut with his knife. He was the last person Lance needed to run into at the moment.
“Have you seen John Patterson?” Lance called.
Hank spit on the ground, pointing his horse toward him.
“Ain’t seen him. Been out on the range in this piss weather because of you, Injun,” he sneered.
Lance met the man’s hateful glare. His hand rested near the knife at his hip. This wasn’t the time to get into another scuffle with the cowpoke, but he’d defend himself, if needed.
“If you see him, tell him his wife’s looking for him at the house.” Lance turned away from the man to continue looking for Stubbs. Most likely John Patterson was with his foreman, if he hadn’t already gone back to the house.
“You’re mighty brave, there, Injun, turnin’ your back to me.”
Lance kept moving. Not even Hank Marvel would be dumb enough to shoot him in the back out in the open, and in broad daylight. He was much too cowardly for that. Clearly, he hadn’t let go of his grudge.
At that moment, Stubbs came around the corner from behind the barn that had flooded.
“Hank, make yorself useful and help the men up by the bridge,” he called, not breaking his short strides. His sharp eyes went to Lance, then back to
the man on horseback behind him. To Lance, he said, “Did you get all the horses moved?”
“There’s one more colt in the pen by the barn. The tree limb is blocking the gate. I’ll get him out as soon as I find John Patterson.”
“I told ya he’s at the house.”
Lance shook his head. “He’s not there. His wife came looking for him a few minutes ago.”
A dog barked from somewhere near the barn and pens. Ellie must have left the barn door open enough for Mahto to get out. He barked again, right before Lance caught a glimpse of the dog scrambling out from under the fallen tree branch and running toward him. The dark-colored material of Lance’s oilskin slicker fluttered in the wind among the branches.
“Something’s wrong,” he mumbled. Whether Stubbs had heard him or not wasn’t important. Lance sprinted for the pens, his view partially obstructed by the barn. Ellie had been the last person to be with his dog, and Mahto didn’t bark or act this excitedly for no reason.
“Ellie,” he called, even though there would be no answering call.
Mahto barked at him again when Lance reached the fence. The dog ran back to the tree. Lance leapt over the corral fence to get to the other side, spooking the colt that was already snorting and prancing along one end of the fence line.
His heart slammed against his ribs as he raced after his dog to the far end of the pen. He sprinted toward the figure of the girl he’d left standing in the barn a little while ago. How had she ended up in the colt’s pen by that tree? She’d promised him she’d return directly to the house with the buckets.
Ellie stood from a crouched position and turned to face him, her hands waving frantically in the air. John Patterson lay under the heavy branch, his body partially concealed. Ellie motioned with her hands.
I heard a cry for help. I can’t lift the branch off him.
John raised his head and moaned. “Glad to see you, Taggart,” he rasped.
“We’ll get you out of there.” Lance grabbed the thick branch, straining to lift it off his employer’s leg. It barely moved.
John Patterson moaned again and gritted his teeth. He pushed against the branch in an effort to free himself from under it. Ellie came up beside him to help.
“Can you slide out from under there by yourself?” Lance leaned into the branch to renew his efforts. Patterson nodded. Lance turned to Ellie. “Help him once I lift. I’ll only be able to hold it for a few seconds.”
He adjusted his grip on the tree limb and strained to raise the heavy branch several inches, enough for her uncle to slide out from under it. When he was clear, Lance nodded to Ellie. “Step back.” As soon as she was far enough away, Lance dropped the heavy load.
“What in tarnation happened here?” Stubbs huffed as he arrived. “Had a helluva time gettin’ through that fence,” he mumbled.
Lance bent to help his employer to his feet. “Are you sure you can stand?”
John Patterson nodded. “Doesn’t feel like anything’s broken.”
He leaned heavily on Lance for a moment, then stood on his own. Ellie wrapped her arms around her uncle for a hug.
“Thanks for finding me, Ellie.”
“Let’s get you back to the house, John,” Stubbs said. “Fiona’s bound to be fretting about you by now.”
“I’ll help repair the roof,” Lance offered. “You might want to make sure that leg is all right.” He blinked some water from his eyes as it dripped from his hair. His hat lay somewhere in the mud.
John Patterson nodded and limped from the pen with Stubbs’ help. Lance turned to Ellie, who stood watching her uncle.
“Good thing you were there when he called for help.” Lance reached for her without thinking. She came willingly into his arms. His hand swiped at the water and mud on her face. Her hair was plastered in matted strands to her head, but she’d never looked more radiant.
“Time to get you back to the house so you can dry off and warm up,” he murmured, then leaned forward and kissed away the dampness on her lips. Ellie gripped his shoulders as if she was starving for his kiss. When he drew back slightly, she smiled up into his eyes, the rain and wind around him ceasing to exist.
Chapter Sixteen
“Are you ready, Eleanor? Your uncle is waiting with the buggy. We don’t want to be late.”
Aunt Fiona’s muffled voice called from downstairs. Ellie adjusted the combs that held her hair swept back and out of her face. She inhaled deeply, then glanced at her reflection in the mirror, frowning. Truth be told, she wasn’t ready. Why couldn’t they go to their neighbors’ social by themselves, and leave her home?
Aunt Fiona had announced at breakfast that they would all be going to a ‘small get-together’, as she’d called it, at one of the neighboring ranches.
“I wasn’t so sure about going, with the weather the way it’s been, but it’s cleared up nicely, and your leg appears to be fine, right John?” She’d smiled at her husband, then at Ellie.
“It’ll be good for you, Eleanor. You’ll meet some wonderful people.”
Ellie had held her pencil to the notebook, ready to tell Aunt Fiona that she wasn’t up to socializing, when Uncle John had chimed in.
“I agree, Ellie. You’ll have a good time. The Hawleys are good neighbors. You’ll like Katie, Trace’s wife, I’m sure.” He’d winked at her with an almost conspiratorial grin.
“I still don’t understand why you chose to run away and hide the day Alma and Maureen were here to visit,” Aunt Fiona had added, pouring another cup of coffee for her husband. “They’ll be at the Hawleys’ place, too, I’m sure. So you’ll already know some people, but I also want to introduce you to the other neighbors in the area.”
Ellie hadn’t bothered to explain that the last time she’d gone along with her aunt’s idea to meet new people, she’d run away because of the things the other women had been saying about her when they’d thought she was out of earshot.
A slow smile spread across her face. That day had also changed her life in ways she’d never imagined. That was the day she’d been bold enough to tell Lance Taggart that she loved him, and she’d found out that he shared her feelings. With each day since, living a life without him seemed impossible.
Lance was the best thing that could have ever happened to her. She’d have to thank her father for bringing her to stay with her aunt and uncle rather than taking her to Kentucky with him like she’d wanted initially.
Kissing Lance had been the most daring thing she’d ever done. In her years after what had happened to her, she’d always backed down when people hadn’t taken the time to truly listen to her. She’d simply gone along with them and their assumptions about her. It was easier than making the effort to be understood.
From her very first encounter with him, Lance had shown her that her opinion mattered, and that she did have a voice. He, of all people, understood. He’d also been treated unfairly by many of the people in his life.
Her heart went out to him for what he’d lost. His mother had been killed by soldiers, his military father had abandoned his mother, and he’d been taken away and forced to give up the only life he’d known. It was no wonder he disliked everything involving the army. Yet, he’d grown into a strong, resilient, and honorable man, despite all the trials in his life.
Due to Lance’s animosity for the army, she’d never brought up the subject of her father, or that he’d been a commanding officer at Fort Peck. Perhaps Lance was aware of it. He certainly knew she’d grown up at the military outpost and that her father was a soldier, but he’d never specifically asked. Not that it mattered. Father was retired from the army. Someday, when they met, Lance wouldn’t be talking to a Major, but simply her father.
And Lance loves me.
Ellie made the signs in front of the mirror and smiled. The afternoon sun reflected off the glass from the window outside. After that horrible storm two days ago, the weather had turned pleasant again. The grounds outside had dried up, for the most part, but a few puddles still remai
ned in places. The ranch had been abuzz with repairs to the barn that had flooded. The bridge across the creek had been replaced, and the water diverted so that it wouldn’t flood the property again in the next rain.
While the men had worked outside in the rain and cold weather, she’d assisted her aunt with fixing meals and delivering them to the bunkhouse. The men had been most appreciative of the hearty food after working in miserable conditions all day.
They had all been polite, yet a shudder had passed through Ellie when she’d caught two of the men leering at her. They were the same two who had cornered her when she’d gone wandering at the barns the day after her arrival. The men Lance had chased off. She hadn’t seen them since, and hadn’t given them a second thought after that day.
Lance hadn’t come to the bunkhouse. He’d busied himself fixing the leak in the roof for Uncle John, who’d been ordered by his wife to stay off the leg that had almost been crushed by the heavy tree limb.
To Ellie’s great surprise, Aunt Fiona had offered Lance her sincerest thanks and gratitude for coming to her husband’s rescue and for the repairs to the house. She’d even offered him a warm meal in the kitchen after the roof had been mended.
You’re drenched to the bone, Ellie had signed when she’d served him a bowl of hot soup and freshly-baked bread. While Aunt Fiona had delivered another batch of bread to the bunkhouse, Ellie had sat with Lance as he ate the food.
The grin on his face had threatened to melt her into the floorboards.
“Come here and warm me up,” he’d murmured, setting aside his plate. He’d pulled her onto his lap before she’d even realized his intentions. His hungry lips on her mouth had ignited the heat coursing through her veins.
She’d gripped his shoulders, boldly running her hands along his wet shirt, which clung to every contour of his hard and chiseled arms.
“I don’t know how much longer I can keep behaving around you,” he’d breathed against her neck. Easing away from her, he’d smiled, staring into her eyes with love in his own.
In His Kiss: Blemished Brides, Book 4 Page 13