This Time for Keeps

by Maureen Child

  Tossing a quick glance skyward, she wondered if her diabolical trio was getting a kick out of all her self-exploration. No doubt they were. And the fact that she was actually beginning to enjoy this new life was probably icing on the cake.

  She shifted her gaze to the man riding a few feet ahead of her. All right, so being Nora Wilding wasn't as bad as she had feared it was going to be. But how much of that was because of Seth?

  Nora admired the almost proud way he sat in the saddle. Head up, broad shoulders straight, he kept his right hand on his thigh, close to the gun she had become accustomed to seeing him wear. His heavy jacket, like hers, was tied down behind the saddle. Now that the sun was directly overhead, the early morning chill was just a memory.

  He moved easily, with the motion of his horse. Beneath his wash-worn blue cotton shirt, his back muscles shifted and rippled. Her breath caught as she recalled the feel of him pressed close to her. His lips on her mouth. His breath fanning her cheeks.

  She laid one hand flat on her stomach in a futile attempt to quell the butterflies swarming inside. Ridiculous to react this way to a man. She might as well be in ninth grade, melting into a puddle because the captain of the football team had said hello.

  She swallowed heavily as her gaze swept over him. Even knowing she was acting like a fool couldn't prevent Nora from wishing that he could ride a horse standing up, just so she could have an unimpeded view of his butt.

  Seth drew his horse to an abrupt halt and she dragged back on Sadie's reins, banishing her wild thoughts at the same time. He shifted slightly and looked over his shoulder at her.

  Pointing off to the right, he said, "We'll head off here. There's a small valley about two miles east. Good grazing pasture."

  Nora looked in that direction and all she saw was a wall of tree trunks. Tilting her head back on her neck, she stared up and up and up, following the gigantic pine spires. She shivered a bit at the sudden sense of insignificance that swamped her before looking at Seth. "We can't ride through those trees,” she said. “There's no room.”

  He snorted a half laugh and shook his head. “There's room. Just follow behind me. Ride where I ride.”

  As if she would even consider heading off on her own. "Okay, cowboy," she said, "lead on."

  Darned if she wasn't getting the hang of this. Even her behind wasn't as sore as that first day in the corral. Of course, the fact that Sadie was walking instead of trotting in a tooth-loosening gait probably had something to do with that.

  Seth's black gelding scrambled out of the river and up the opposite bank. Nora tightened her grip on the reins as Sadie fell into step. She teetered a bit in the saddle, but managed, inelegantly, to hang on.

  The overpowering scent of pine engulfed her. She ducked her head to avoid low-hanging branches. Soft needles scratched and rustled across her shoulders. Sadie's hooves clopped against the forest floor, littered with a heavy layer of winter's memories.

  Nora looked from side to side, peering through the maze of tree trunks, not sure exactly what she was searching for. A flicker of movement, not ten feet to her right, caught her attention. "Seth!" she whispered, and when he didn't hear her, repeated, "Seth!"

  Turning in the saddle, he asked, "What?"

  She sighed, disappointed, and slowly swiveled her head to look at him. "Why did you talk so loud? Didn't you hear me whisper?”

  "What's going on, Nora?"

  Shaking her head, she pointed off through the tree line. "I saw a deer," she told him, still slightly awestruck. She stared at the spot where Bambi's father had been only a moment before. "He was so beautiful. And big."

  "Where?" he asked.

  "Right there," Nora whispered, pointing. "His horns were huge."

  “Antlers.”

  “Whatever.”

  Seth shifted his gaze to follow hers. "Well, he's gone now. Too bad.”

  She smiled at him, glad he was here with her to appreciate the magic of her discovery. "Maybe we'll see another one," she said, hoping to reassure him.

  "Hope so," he told her with a nod. “We could use the meat."

  "Meat?"

  Seth looked into her eyes and stifled a shiver. She was staring at him as though he had just suggested they put Hannah on a spit and roast her for supper.

  "Of course, meat," he said, letting his gaze slide from her outraged glare. Why the hell should he feel guilty about hunting? "What did you think we were going to eat on this little expedition of yours?"

  Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she started speaking. "I don't know. Bread, soup…" She shrugged and shook her head. "I didn't think about it.”

  "Maybe it's time you did.” He gave his gelding a gentle said stiffly. "You've been eating venison all your life."

  Her gaze shot quickly to the outlying forest before settling on him again. “But he was so beautiful. How could you think about killing and cooking him?"

  "Nora," he said softly, "you get hungry enough, you'll think about eating him raw, hooves and all.”

  She drew her head back and stared at him, horrified. "I will not," she insisted. "And while we're out here. I don't want you hunting any deer, all right?”

  Laying both hands on the saddle horn, Seth fingered the reins and leaned in toward her. Capturing her gaze with his, he waited a full, long minute before answering. "Nobody's going to want to spend the next couple of weeks eating nothing but rabbit and fish."

  "Rabbits?"

  “Rabbits.”

  "Bugs," she whispered, her voice cracking.

  He tipped the brim of his hat up and looked at her carefully. "Nobody said anything about eating bugs, Nora."

  "No," she said, shaking her head. "Bugs Bunny."

  “What?”

  "Never mind," she told him sadly. "You wouldn't understand anyway."

  Maybe he wouldn't, he conceded. She sure seemed to be behaving stranger than usual. But he did understand that whatever she was thinking had her plenty upset. He rubbed one hand along the back of his neck and tried to ignore the twinge of sympathy niggling at his brain. Hell, she was a rancher's daughter. Born and raised in the country. Used to hunting for the table and slaughtering animals bred for meat. What was going through that mind of hers to all of a sudden act as though this was all so new to her? Could she really have forgotten something as simple and uncomplicated as feeding herself?

  Although, he reminded himself, Nora never had been much for traipsing across the countryside. Maybe she had never given much thought to where the food had come from. Maybe she hadn't wanted to. Now that she had seen her first wild deer, it had all been brought home to her in a rush.

  Well, thinking on it like that, he could hardly blame her.

  He could still remember the first time he'd seen a full-grown buck in the woods, and the rush of excitement that had filled him. But he had been a man at thirteen. Expected to bring back supper for the table or explain why he had wasted ammunition with nothing to show for it.

  Seth had lined up his shot perfectly. He'd held his breath and watched the buck's magnificent profile rise up in his sights. He still remembered the cold feel of the trigger against his finger as he squeezed it carefully. Why he'd missed that shot, he never had been able to figure out. Had he jiggled that gun on purpose, reluctant to kill the deer despite worry over what his pa would do to him?

  Frowning to himself, he let go of the memories, preferring to forget the whipping he'd received for coming home with only one scrawny rabbit to show for an afternoon's hunting. Seeing that Nora was once again staring at the spot where the buck had been only moments before, Seth followed her gaze. Caught by the silence, he spoke softly. "I'll make you a deal, Nora."

  "What?" she whispered and rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes.

  He turned to look at her. Her hair blew gently around her face and the bloom of health stained her checks. His heartbeat faltered slightly as he watched her. "I'll take care of getting the food." He paused and she swiveled her head to meet his ga
ze. "And I won't tell you how and where I got it."

  A long moment passed before one corner of her mouth lifted a bit. "Thanks, Seth," she said.

  He almost missed the way she had called him all of those other names. But dammit, he really liked hearing his own name slide from her lips. “You're welcome."

  Almost unconsciously, he felt himself leaning in toward her. He sensed rather than saw her do the same. Her mouth was just a breath away when his gelding sidestepped, apparently impatient with standing too long in one place.

  The moment shattered, Seth sat up straight again and told himself he was being a fool. Letting himself indulge notions he had no business entertaining. Grasping the reins tightly in one fist, he muttered, "We'd better get a move on,” just before he urged the gelding into motion.

  "Seth?" she called out from behind him.

  "Yeah?" He didn't trust himself to turn around and face her. At the moment, it wouldn't take much to smash what little self-control he had.

  "Nothing, I guess," she said.

  His jaw clenched, he nodded and gave the gelding a small kick. The horse moved out quickly and Seth contented himself with listening to the sounds of Nora's mare, following close behind.

  #

  There couldn't have been more than thirty head of cattle wandering around the small clearing, but just to make sure, Nora counted every one of them. She couldn't help wondering though, how she would be able to tell one cow from the next on this trip. If the cattle tended to wander the range, as Seth said they did, she could end up counting the same cows over and over again.

  "It's too bad I didn't bring some chalk or something," she muttered.

  "What's that?" Seth asked from right beside her. "What would you need chalk for?"

  She glanced up from her notes. "Not necessarily chalk," she told him. "But it would be nice if I had a way to mark these cows so I wouldn't count them twice."

  He shook his head slowly. "Even if you had chalk with you, there's no way on God's earth those cattle would let you just stroll up and draw on them."

  "I wasn't talking about a mural," she said. "Just a quick mark on their sides or something." She inhaled sharply and sighed. "But it doesn't matter now anyway." Finished with her count, she asked. "About how large would you say this clearing is?”

  He turned his head to stare at the patch of spring grass and the cattle busily devouring it. "I don't know offhand. Maybe a half acre. A little more."

  "Hmm…" She bent her head to consult her notes again.

  "What are you doing now?"

  Nora flicked him a sidelong glance, then made another notation. "How big is the ranch?"

  “Huh?"

  "The Wilding ranch. How many acres?"

  One of the horses whickered and pulled at the reins Seth was holding. He loosened his grip, allowing both animals to dip their heads to the grass.

  “I don't know, around 200,000, I guess."

  “Acres?” She felt her jaw drop and made a conscious effort to close her mouth.

  "Yeah, why?"

  "And there are cows on all of it?”

  "Course not," he said.

  Mentally, she began adding and subtracting, trying to get a feel for the number of cows she might actually own. The figures were staggering.

  "Okay," she said, "how much of the ranch is occupied, do you think?”

  "Hell, Nora, how am I supposed to know that?"

  "You're the foreman, aren't you?"

  "Well, yeah, but with free range cattle, you can't know where they are at all times. That's why we have round up every year.”

  She fluttered one hand at him. "All right, fine," she said, her words tumbling out of her mouth in her excitement. "But do you think it would be fair to say that we have cattle on about half the land?”

  He shook his head and scratched at the dark whiskery stubble lining his jaw. "No, because the cattle drift a lot."

  "Okay, one third?"

  "What are you drivin' at?"

  “This,” she said and waved her square of notepaper at him.

  Frowning, he squinted at the notations. "What is all that, anyway?” he asked.

  "I'm trying to get an average, based on population per acre.”

  “Average of what?”

  She sighed. "By counting the cows on a few half acre plots, I can get a broad average of the number of cows on the whole ranch.”

  "How?"

  "Well," she said with a smile, pleased at her own cleverness. "If there are thirty cows here, and we say that a third of the ranch has cows on it, then we can guesstimate how many cows there are per acre.”

  For the span of a few heartbeats, he simply stared at her. Congratulating herself silently on this wonderful idea, Nora waited for him to applaud her deductions. She was not prepared for the laughter that exploded from him in the next instant.

  Folding her arms across her chest, Nora stared at him, her booted foot tapping against the grass. She'd never seen Seth laugh. Oh, a chuckle or two, sure. But this! Bent over, hands on his knees, he gave himself over to the amusement she had provided him.

  The cattle stirred restlessly, shifting instinctively away from the annoying man making all the noise. Nora didn't blame them a bit.

  Finally, he pushed himself upright, wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve, then shook his head as he looked at her.

  "Finished?" she inquired nastily.

  "I think so, unless you say something else as foolish as that last.”

  Foolish. Her spine stiffened as though someone had tied her to a pole.

  “What is foolish about trying to get an early idea about my holdings?”

  A silly and unfortunately very sexy smile curved his lips. "Nora, you can't say thirty cows here, so thirty cows everywhere.”

  "I'm just talking about an estimate, cowboy."

  His eyebrows lifted. "If we could do estimates," he asked quietly, "do you think we'd go to all the trouble of a roundup?”

  Hmm. All right, he had a point. A small one.

  "Well, you didn't have to laugh at me like I'm a fool."

  The smile fading now, he looked at her. "Isn't that what you were calling me?"

  Oh, fine, he insults her and then he acts wounded. Apparently, some things never changed, no matter the century.

  "How do you figure that?" she asked.

  He crossed his arms over his impressive chest and met her stare for stare. "You thought you'd come out here, count a couple of cows, and teach all of us poor stupid fools how to do our jobs.”

  "That's not what I was doing," she said hotly, stung by the unfair accusation.

  "Maybe it's not what you intended, but you were doing it all the same."

  "Oh, for heaven's sake." How could he take an innocent cow counting trip and turn it into an affront to his masculinity? Suddenly disgusted with everything male, she turned her back on the nearest steer and its nursemaid.

  Seth reached out and grabbed her arm, spinning her back around to face him. “Don't you think that if there was an easier way to do this job, the men who have to ride in the wind and the snow would have thought of it?”

  "Of course," she said. "I just-"

  "You just had your own ideas and didn't want to listen to anybody who might know better,” he finished for her. "Especially just a dumb cowboy."

  “You are way off track, Hoss," she snapped.

  "Hoss?"

  Ignoring his question, she yanked herself free of his grip and practically snarled at him. "First off, I do not think you're a dumb cowboy. I know that you know how to do your job.”

  He scowled at her, obviously unconvinced.

  “But,” she added, "I didn't think you would object to a little constructive criticism.”

  “Come again?"

  A short-lived breeze tossed her hair into her eyes and Nora pushed it back impatiently. "Are you so unsure of yourself that you couldn't stand the thought that someone else might have a useful idea?”

  "I'll always listen to a useful idea."


  "Oh, that's nice."

  "What do you want from me, Nora?"

  Gazing up into pale blue eyes that had haunted and fascinated her for centuries, she felt a hot wave of anger churning inside her. "Would dropping dead be too much bother?" she inquired sweetly.

  #

  Seth sat in the shadows of the campfire, leaning against a long-dead tree and thought about what Nora had said to him earlier. In fact, those had been the last words she'd spoken to him all day.

  He should be happy about that, he knew. If she was mad at him, she wouldn't be giving him looks that invited him to consider all sorts of impossible ideas. While her brown eyes were spitting sparks at him, he wouldn't be tempted to grab hold of her and kiss her until neither one of them could breathe.

  He shifted uncomfortably and felt the thick, dry bark of the fallen tree dig into his back. He should welcome the discomfort. At least it took his mind off the almost constant ache in his groin. Seth scowled darkly, pulled his right leg up, and rested his forearm on his knee.

  Across from him, Nora was helping Hannah gather up the supper dishes. He tried not to notice how her jeans pulled and tightened across her hips and thighs. He tried to ignore the small vee of flesh at her neck, exposed by two undone buttons.

  His body hardened painfully, straining at the fly of his jeans. Seth closed his eyes briefly, muttered a short, heartfelt prayer for control, then opened them again. Deliberately, he looked away from Nora and the temptation she presented. Instead, his gaze fell on Richard. The look in the other man's eyes as he stared at Nora made Seth pray harder for control.

  Elizabeth smacked her right arm, then frowned down at her own flesh. "Something bit me," she said to no one in particular.

  "Did you find plenty of cattle today, Nora?" Richard spoke up, drawing Seth's gaze back to him.

  "I suppose so," Nora answered. She rinsed one of the china plates off in a skillet full of hot water and handed it to Hannah to be dried and put away. "I still can't believe you brought good china and tablecloths on a camping trip,” Nora said to the older woman.

  Hannah lifted her chin, indicating Elizabeth. "Her idea."

  Nora shifted slightly to look at the lounging woman across from her. Elizabeth met her look blandly. "There's no reason to live like savages simply because we are out of doors, Nora."