by Bobbi Smith
Paul found it odd at discovering that the younger woman had been watching him, smiling slightly. He wondered at her expression, but said nothing about it as he picked up the second trunk with her art supplies and took it outside with the other.
"Mr. Stone, thank you so much for all your help. We'll see you in a few days upon our return," Mimi told the hotel owner graciously.
"We'll be looking forward to seeing you again, Mrs. Randall. You, too, Miss Williams," he said as he walked outside with them to load the luggage he'd been carrying.
Glynna bade him good-bye, too, and climbed up to the driver's bench. Mimi joined her there, with help from Mr. Stone. She smiled warmly at him, thanking him again for his thoughtfulness.
Paul had tried to finish stowing everything quickly, so he could get around to the front of the buckboard to help them up, but the other man had beaten him to it. Paul frowned, irritated with himself for the way he was reacting to things this morning. He had long ago given up the temptations of the flesh-drinking, gambling, women. He and Mary Catherine were together again only because Glynna had needed somewhere to paint. Otherwise this reunion would never have taken place. They meant nothing to each other, and they had nothing in common anymore. She was a society lady. He was a frontier preacher.
Paul finally climbed up to the driver's bench and sat down next to Mary Catherine. The sweet scent of her perfume came to him, and he tightened his grip on the reins, causing the team to step nervously about. He slapped the reins impatiently on the horses' backs, ready to be gone.
"Have a safe trip," Jason Stone told them.
Glynna and Mimi both waved good-bye to him, while Paul just kept driving.
"Your rooms will be upstairs," Maria told Mimi and Glynna as she showed them through the house. "Senor Tom sleeps downstairs now since he does not feel well. It is hard for him to climb the steps. Senor Hunt said he will sleep out in the bunkhouse while you are here."
"We never meant to put anyone out," Glynna protested.
"Senor Tom would have it no other way. He wanted to make sure you had enough privacy."
"That's very kind of him. We appreciate his thoughtfulness."
Maria smiled. "It will be nice to have you here. My Diego is going to take you out for your rides. He is excited about it."
"Diego is your son?" Glynna asked.
"Yes." She beamed, a very proud mother. "He will do a fine job for you."
"We don't doubt it for a minute."
"Reverend Paul." Maria looked at the minister as she started to lead the way up the stairs. "Senor Tom said we will fix a bed for you in the parlor."
"That will be fine," he said in agreement. "Where is Tom?"
"He's down at the corral with Hunt and the others.
"I'll have to go see what he's up to as soon as we're unloaded. Shall I help bring in some of the ladies' things?"
"Diego should be doing that," Maria said as she started upstairs with Mimi and Glynna.
"I'll find him and give him a hand." Paul went in search of the boy so they could get Glynna and Mimi settled in.
Glynna had already realized that the house was definitely a man's domain. The rooms downstairs were austere and utilitarian. She expected the bed rooms would be the same way, spartanly furnished with only the real necessities of life.
"This room is yours," Maria told Glynna, pointing across the hall. "And, Mrs. Randall, this is yours." She took Mimi into her room.
Glynna was surprised when she entered the bedroom and found herself staring at a vividly painted Comanche shield hanging on the wall opposite the foot of the bed. The colors were vibrant and the painting intriguing. She stood, spellbound, studying the man's face depicted on the shield. The face was painted half red and half white. Glynna crossed the room to look at it up close.
"That is Senor Hunt's from when he lived with his mother's people," Maria said from the doorway.
The sound of Maria's voice behind her startled Glynna, for she'd been caught up in trying to understand the meaning behind the image on the shield. "Did Hunt paint this himself?"
"Yes. It scares me," she said. "I do not like it."
"What scares you?" Mimi asked as she came to stand beside the cook in the doorway. When she saw the shield, she was as intrigued as Glynna and went into the room to get a closer look. "Fascinating."
The sound of male laughter outside drew Glynna's attention, and she found herself wondering if it was Hunt. After viewing his shield, she suddenly wanted to see him. She went to the window to try to see what was going on outside. She had a good view of the outbuildings, the stable and the corrals, and from her vantage point, she could see two men in the main corral holding the reins of a very big, very skittish black stallion. They were trying to keep the horse under control, while another cowboy got ready to swing up into the saddle. She watched in fascination as the man mounted the horse and the others let go of the reins.
The sleek, beautiful beast was still for a moment and then suddenly tore into action, rearing and bucking. It twisted violently, trying with all its might to dislodge the man from its back.
As the horse spun around, Glynna got a look at the rider and realized it was Hunt. She was mesmerized as she watched the way he managed to stay in the saddle. With sheer grit and determination, Hunt held on for dear life, in spite of the stallion's best efforts to throw him.
A small cry of alarm escaped her when the beast gave a powerful lunge and Hunt went flying. She couldn't see where Hunt had landed, but she was certain that he must have been seriously injured from the force of being thrown. She started to hurry from the room.
"What is it?" Mimi asked, seeing her expression.
"Is something wrong?" Maria wondered. The young woman was pale and looked almost frightened.
"Hunt was trying to break a horse down at the corral. He was thrown. He must be hurt."
"I don't think you have to worry about Senor Hunt," the cook tried to reassure her. "He is a very tough man, and he's the best horseman on the ranch."
"But I didn't see him get up." Glynna hurried on.
Mimi and Maria went along with her just in case she was right. Accidents did sometimes happen.
Paul and Diego were just carrying the trunks in the front door as the three women passed them on their way out.
"Something wrong?" Paul asked, seeing Glynna's stricken expression.
"I'm not sure." Glynna quickly told him what she'd seen. "They're down at the corral."
Paul put down the trunk he'd been carrying.
"I guess we'd better go, too," Mimi said.
"If Hunt is hurt, I need to be there," Paul said, following along with her.
Glynna reached the corral ahead of the others and smiled when she discovered that Maria had been right about Hunt. He had not been hurt. He was standing off to the side knocking the dust off himself, looking positively surly, as the other two cowboys chased down the stallion and got a firm hold on it again. Glynna didn't understand why she felt such great relief at the sight of him uninjured, but she did. She stood there quietly, watching the standoff between man and horse.
"You ready to give it another try, Hunt?" Gib called out, chuckling. "Or are you going to call it quits for the day?"
"No," Hunt said in a growl.
"That's what I thought," Gib said, smiling broadly at his boss's determination. It was a rare day when a horse got the best of Hunt McAllister. He knew his boss wouldn't give up until he'd tamed the wild stallion.
Hunt didn't say anything more. He just strode up to where they were holding the bronc still for him. He was unaware that they had an audience now. He was concentrating only on what he had to do and that was ride the stallion.
Glynna watched Hunt as he moved toward the proud horse. She was mesmerized by the way he walked-he was so confident, so determined. There was a fierceness about him, but there was also a steadiness that tempered it. It was a rare combination. She was surprised when, instead of immediately mounting up in challenge to the balking
mount, Hunt went to look the horse in the eye. He began to talk to the stallion in a low, quiet voice. She tried to hear what he was saying, but she was too far away to make out his words.
The horse was standing rigidly in the center of the corral, held in place by Gib and Wes. It strained at the hold the two men had on it and rolled its eyes in terror. The stallion was ready for the danger it sensed was about to come, but at the sound of Hunt's voice some of the wildness and fear seemed to ease from it. A great shudder ran through the magnificent beast. It stood quivering, waiting nervously for what was to happen next.
Hunt ran a hand down the horse's powerful neck. He spoke softly to it. Then in one smooth move, he was on the animal's back. He nodded to Gib and Wes, letting them know to release their hold on the reins.
Glynna had never seen anyone mount so effortlessly. It was almost as if Hunt had flown into the saddle. As she watched, the horse sidled nervously around the corral. It resisted Hunt's domination, fighting against the tug of the reins and the pressure from his knees. The stallion bucked several more times, but each time the fury of its action lessened. It twirled unexpectedly in a circle, wanting desperately to rid itself of the unwelcome weight of the man on its back. It wanted to be free once more, but when the rider could not be dislodged, the horse stopped and stood near the middle of the corral, trembling in exhaustion. When Hunt gently tugged on the reins, the stallion responded.
"Oooeee!" Gib chortled in amazement, although he knew he shouldn't have been in the least surprised. "You do have a way with horses!"
"Must be that gentle touch of his," Wes said, grinning in approval at his friend.
"Wonder if that `gentle touch' of his works on women?"
"We'll have to ask some of the girls down at the saloon and find out!"
"Even if it does work on women, I doubt he'd let us watch him do that kind of riding!"
Both men laughed as they watched their boss bring the stallion under his control.
Glynna's gaze was riveted on Hunt, watching him move in rhythm with the horse. She had been the only one standing close enough to the rail fence to hear the ranch hands' remarks. She felt her cheeks grow warm at the mental image their words evoked of Hunt talking softly to a woman of Hunt's strong hands stroking and gentling a woman. She turned away to hide her embarrassment and started back up to the house.
"Looks like I was worried for nothing," she said as she passed the cook. "You were right, Maria. Hunt is a very fine horseman."
Glynna's gaze was riveted on Hunt, watching him move in rhythm with the horse
"That's a magnificent stallion," Mimi remarked, moving closer to the corral to watch Hunt handle him. She was in awe of his riding talent. She'd done some riding herself back east and considered herself a competent horsewoman, but her ability was nothing compared to Hunt's. "Does he plan to sell it?"
"Oh, no, ma'am," Gib answered, suddenly realizing that the others were there, looking on. "Hunt's going to keep this one for himself. He's worked too danged hard to break him."
"I can see why. That is one fine piece of horseflesh," Paul put in.
"That he is," Tom said, coming to join them from where he'd been watching from the stable.
Hunt had been focusing completely on the stallion, but he glanced up now to see the group standing at the rail. He caught sight of Glynna, too, but she was walking away. His gaze followed her. He hadn't realized that she had returned to the ranch already, and he knew he'd have to stay away from the houseand her for the next couple of days.
The stallion must have sensed the sudden tension within him, and it moved skittishly beneath him, reasserting its independence.
"Easy, boy," he soothed, forcing his attention back to the half-wild horse. There was a lot of work to be done before the stallion would be completely broken. "I'm going to call you Warrior. You're strong and brave, and I think you're probably going to keep fighting me as long as you can."
The stallion pranced nervously at his words, proving Hunt right. He smiled and, keeping a firm hand on the reins, urged the animal to a trot around the corral.
Glynna was feeling a bit foolish as she returned to the house. She should have realized that Hunt was too good a rider to be injured while breaking a horse, but when she'd seen him fall and hadn't seen him get up, it had worried her. She wondered why she'd cared so much or why she found him so fascinating. True, he had saved her life and he had brought her sketchbook back to her, but he had never really been friendly. In fact, he'd almost seemed angry when he'd done it, and his attitude toward her since then had not been kind.
Frustrated by her own train of thought, Glynna thanked Diego for having taken her things upstairs and then went up to her room. She opened the trunk holding her supplies and got out her sketchbook. Pencil in hand, she pulled a chair over to the window and sat down in the light to draw.
An image of Hunt, fighting to stay astride the big stallion as it fought to be free of his control, was burned into her mind. She began to draw, intent on showing the stallion's power and Hunt's firm resolve to master it.
"Glynna?"
Mimi's call from outside the bedroom door interrupted her concentration some time later.
"Come on in."
Mimi opened the door to find Glynna engrossed in her drawing.
"What's captured your imagination this time?" Mimi asked as she went to her.
"What do you think?" Glynna was frowning as she studied the image of the untamed horse and determined rider.
"This is wonderful," Mimi told her as she stared down at the picture. The work was still sketchy, but showed great promise. Glynna had definitely captured Hunt's serious expression and the power of the horse. "You caught the feel of it so perfectly."
"Is the stallion good enough? He's such a beautiful animal, I want to make sure I do him justice."
"Oh, yes. I'll go away and let you keep working. This may turn out to be one of your best drawings yet."
Glynna gave her a quick smile and went back to work.
Mimi let herself out of the room and closed the door quietly behind her.
"You'll be joining us for dinner tonight." It was a statement, for Tom would brook no argument from Hunt as they stood in the stable together.
"I've still got a lot of work I should be doing," Hunt countered. He didn't want to defy his father or hurt him, but he did not want to spend any more time than necessary with their visitors.
"Then get at it, because I expect you to be at dinner. It isn't often we have company, and Maria's making a special meal. We're eating at six." With that, he left his son.
Hunt was frustrated, but respectful of his father's wishes. He put his aggravation to good use, working hard the rest of the day. As six o'clock neared, he cleaned up and changed clothes and headed up to the house to join the others for dinner. As he let himself in, he could hear the conversation coming from the dining room. Glynna was laughing about something that had just been said, and the sound of her laughter touched him. It was genuine and heartfelt, and he realized there had been little reason for laughter or happiness in his life. He paused and listened to the conversation.
"And you say your paintings are very successful?" Tom was asking Glynna.
"Yes. It was a surprise to me when they began to sell so well, and people began to ask for them in the gallery. I was painting what I loved. I hadn't thought about painting to sell at that point. My trip to Colorado had been for fun. I'd wanted to see the Rocky Mountains and to paint them, but for my own pleasure. I had no idea that my work would create this much interest."
"That's wonderful."
"I'm so proud of her," Mimi said, gazing at Glynna fondly. "It's taken a lot of bravery on her part to do this. Her father was not supportive of our trip."
"Charles wasn't?" Paul was surprised by this news. He knew Charles.
"No, my father thinks it's a ridiculous thing for me to waste my time painting. He wants me to get married."
"I didn't know you were engaged," Paul remark
ed.
"I'm not-not officially, anyway. Although Papa has already handpicked the man for the job," she said with a laugh, though the laughter didn't reach her eyes.
"Here's Hunt now," Tom said with pride as Hunt strode into the room.
"Evening," Hunt said as he sat down in the empty chair. He found himself sitting directly opposite Glynna.
"We're glad you could join us," Paul told him. He'd met Hunt only a few times, but he'd always admired him, especially for the way he'd returned home to take care of his father. "We've been wanting to talk to you."
"Oh?" Hunt glanced at him questioningly.
"The horse you were breaking today was beautiful," Mimi said, meeting his gaze straight-on and giving him a friendly smile.
"Warrior's spirited, all right."
"The name Warrior suits him," Tom added approvingly. "He's a fighter."
"We were watching you," Mimi went on. "You did a fine job breaking him. Where did you learn to ride so well?"
He tensed slightly at the question, but answered quietly, "My father taught me."
Tom knew Hunt was avoiding the full truth, so he added it, unashamedly. "Hunt was a good rider as a boy, but it wasn't until he spent time with his mother's people that he became an outstanding horseman. I've never seen anyone who can sit a horse the way he can."
"Paul was telling us that you'd lived with the Comanche for a while. What was it like?" Glynna gazed at Hunt, studying him in this civilized social setting. She tried to find in him the man she'd mistaken for a warrior only a few days before. He had seemed as savage and untamed as the land then. Sitting across from her now, he was as powerful as ever, but the power in him tonight was leashed, tightly controlled.
"Why do you want to know?" Hunt asked, stiffening imperceptibly at her question. He rarely spoke of those times.
"I saw your shield on the wall in the bedroom, and the painting on it is fascinating. Did you make that yourself?"