To Tame a Wild Mustang

by J. Rose Allister

  “You asked her without my permission?”

  “No. We discussed why I can’t offer her anythin’ now, and why she has no interest in leavin’ her pa to be with me.”

  The man’s expression flickered with a volatile jumble of emotion. “Marry the girl, Tyler. I’ll not have our family made the town joke because you can’t keep yer fly buttoned.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, voice raising higher than was probably wise to use with the man whose daughter he loved. “But my ranch is near to failin’, and there’s already been one raid here. I don’t have enough hired hands to watch the place. I can’t guarantee her safety.”

  That seemed to register with the man, but his expression failed to soften. “So you figure you’d just treat her like a saloon gal, throw her away with nothin’ but a mud-slung reputation?”

  “It wasn’t my idea, and I didn’t sling the mud,” he said. “No one would be gossipin’ if Kate hadn’t gone mouthin’ off to the sheriff and his men about us. I told her not to.”

  “Why you no good son of a whore.”

  Before he knew what was happening, Clyde had heaved himself up over the fence with a speed William wouldn’t have thought the man capable of. His eyes widened when the old man came straight toward him, blood in his gaze and fists clenched. He stepped back, trying to evade the advance. He couldn’t fight Kate’s father, not even to defend himself. He’d have to take his lumps, and try to avoid getting too many.

  A fist flashed out to catch William in the jaw. He reeled back as a second came, but this one he stopped by grabbing the man’s wrist.

  “Clyde, listen to me.”

  “Don’t Clyde me. I’ll give you a proper whoopin’ for puttin’ yer filthy hands on my little girl.”

  He opened his mouth for more, but never got to finish. His face went rigid, eyes wide. Then he clutched at his chest and started coughing.

  William swore under his breath. “Are you all right?”

  He caught the man as he fell to his knees.

  “Clyde!” William looked around frantically for any sign of his hired hand. “Jack? Where are you? Jack!”

  The old man’s breath had turned shallow, and sweat dripped down his pale face. William somehow got the man to his feet and wrapped Clyde’s arm around his shoulder. For a wiry old-timer, Clyde Marsh was solid built and heavy to hold.

  “Git yer mangy hands off me,” the man rasped, but William ignored him. He’d managed to half drag the man out of the corral by the time Jack returned.

  “What the devil happened?” he said. “What’d yeh do to him?”

  “Help me get him in the house,” William said. “Then go fetch the doc and get back here double quick.”

  Jack took hold of the man’s legs and they carried him toward the back door of the main house. “Yeh mean Miss Marsh?”

  William shot him a look. “No. He needs the town doc, as fast as we can get him. Kate will have to wait.”

  * * * *

  The afternoon sun was drooping into western sky by the time William saddled up Raven and raced to the Marsh’s farm as fast as his stallion could carry him. He didn’t even bother to tie up the horse when he rode up to the front of her house, just dropped reins and ran to the door. A frantic pounding went unanswered, and after a moment he turned around to check the barn and corn field. William had already gone several paces when he heard the door creak open behind him.

  “William?”

  He turned to see Kate had obviously been working in the kitchen. Streaks of white flour trailed along one cheek, and she was wiping her hands on a white apron tied around the waist of a pale blue skirt. Her eyes met his with a question, and for a brief moment he flashed back to the night he’d seen those eyes searching his in the darkness beneath the elm tree.

  He was back at her door in three long strides. “Kate.”

  Her expression hardened. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “It’s about your pa.”

  “He’s not here right now, but I expect him back any minute. If he sees you here, it won’t be pretty.” She frowned and glanced over his shoulder. “He knows what happened between us.”

  “I know. He’s at my place now.” He hesitated, a pang stabbing his gut at the news he was going to have to deliver. “Kate, the doc’s with him. He’s sick.”

  Her eyes flew wide, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Why didn’t you say so? I’ll saddle up right now.”

  “I’ll ride you over,” he said. “It’ll be faster.”

  With a grim nod she followed him to the stallion, and after getting her seated he climbed up behind her. With Kate along he rode Raven slower on the way back, but they still charged ahead at a fast gallop. Though he tried to seat himself well back on the cantle, and despite his mind buzzing with worry for Kate and her father, he couldn’t quite ignore how close she was pressed to him. The motion of the horse rubbing her bottom against him caused a stiff erection. His arms were close around her sides as he worked the reins, and he could smell an enticing lavender scent from the hair she’d plaited into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. He remembered how that hair spilled over her shoulders like a waterfall to her waist, and he wished he could lean forward and press his nose against it. But this was no proper time for indulging his male instincts. Considering what had taken place between them, there’d likely be no proper time ever again.

  He rode Kate straight up to the front door, and while he was helping her down, the doc came out of the house. Kate rushed to the man, who was closing up his medical bag.

  “Doc Jessup,” she said in a winded rush. “How is he?”

  The man tipped his black hat, showing a shock of white hair. “He’s resting comfortably now. Gave him some laudanum for the pain.”

  The fear was plain in her eyes. “What happened?”

  “Not entirely sure. Heard he keeled over after jumping a corral fence.” He peered over wire-rimmed glasses at William, who had come up behind Kate. William offered a shrug and nod. “You know your pa is a sick man. He beat the yellow fever, but the damage to his heart and liver is permanent. Shouldn’t be running around like a young cowpoke. Is he off the whiskey like I told him?”

  Kate sighed. “Not entirely. He went in the saloon yesterday, matter of fact. But not long enough for more than a shot or two.” She hugged her arms around herself. “Will he be all right?”

  The doc shook his head. “Clyde Marsh is a stubborn man. That can get him into trouble with his health, but it also gives him the fight to survive. The question is how much stubborn will he puts toward surviving, and how much toward denying anything’s wrong.”

  She nodded. “He won’t take the tonic you prescribed.”

  The man doffed his hat for a moment and shook it out before returning it. “Figures. Well, that won’t hurt none. Truth is it wouldn’t have done much for him anyway.”

  “Can I take him home now?”

  “I’d let him rest here tonight, if that’s okay with Mr. Tyler.”

  “Of course,” William said. “He can stay for as long as he needs.”

  Doc Jessup nodded. “Good. If he’s up for it tomorrow, take him home in the wagon. Don’t let him drive it for a while, though. Try to limit his work on the farm for a few weeks.” He laughed. “Not that he’s likely to listen to you.”

  William followed the doc out to his buggy and took care of the bill. When he came back Kate was gone, no doubt searching the house for her father. He stepped through the open front door, realizing this was the first time Kate had actually been inside his house. Her visits here had always been to the barn or corral. That was no fitting way to court a woman, though that hadn’t been what he was doing. Not exactly. Still, the days she wasn’t there felt empty, like a room without furniture. The thought of her under his roof right now brought an odd sense of rightness.

  He found her in the guest room, sitting on a rocking chair beside the bed where Clyde was lying. She was clasping his weathered hand.

  “How is he?
” William asked.

  Her head whipped around to the doorway where he was standing. “Sound asleep. Guess Doc’s potion did its job.”

  He dropped his voice to match her whisper. “Best we let him get some rest, like the doc said. Housekeeper just got supper laid out. Come and let’s get a bite in you.”

  She seemed reluctant to leave the man’s side, and emotion swelled in William’s chest at the sight of her tender expression while she brushed salt and pepper locks from the man’s forehead and laid a gentle kiss there. Then she rose. “I suppose you’re right.” She glanced at him. “Will Jack be there, too?”

  He shook his head. “Said he needed to handle some things, but I think he just went off to his room.”

  She frowned at that, but said nothing.

  Supper consisted of tender rabbit, acorn mush, and his favorite skillet biscuits, along with wild muscadines for dessert. The grapes were juicy and had a nice tangy bite, but he hardly noticed while he watched Kate eat for the first time. It was strange to realize that despite all they shared, they had never experienced simple things folks did in each other’s company. Not that Kate seemed to be experiencing much of it, either, for she mostly pushed food around her plate. Every now and then she would glance around the room, up at the log beam ceilings and mud plaster walls.

  “You don’t seem too hungry,” he said when his plate had been cleared.

  She shot him a guilty look. “I’m just worried about Pa.” She glanced around again. “Your house is quite lovely. The walls aren’t wood, are they?”

  He took the hint and changed the subject. “Adobe. Uncle Jed spent time near some Mexican settlements down south and swore by mud brick construction.” He glanced around himself, trying to see through Kate’s curious eyes. “Keeps nice and cool in summer, warm in winter.”

  “It’s very roomy in here.” She got to her feet and strolled to the dining room wall. “More so than it looks from outside. And there are so many paintings. Your uncle must have known a good deal about art.”

  “He painted some of ’em himself, actually.”

  “Really?” She raised her brow and studied a rough oil of a rolling landscape. “I never thought of ranchers as having time for the arts.”

  He came up close behind her, his gaze landing on each painting that represented the man’s artistic legacy. “Uncle Jed wasn’t exactly your typical rancher. But I’ll admit he did most of these before he bought this place.”

  She turned toward him, and he heard her breath catch. She took a step back and smoothed the apron over her skirt. “Why was my pa here today?”

  William rubbed his hand over a sandpapery jaw. “To have a few words about us.”

  Her eyes widened. “What did he say?”

  “Nothin’ that should surprise you. He wasn’t happy, to say the least. In fact, he got angry enough to come over the fence at me.”

  She gasped. “You and Pa were fighting? How could you? You know he’s sick.”

  He shook his head. “I wasn’t fightin’ nobody. I would never do that to your pa. He, on the other hand, had other ideas. Planned to give me a right good whuppin’. What do you think this is?” William pointed to the reddish purple splotch on his jaw that he’d discovered in the mirror earlier.

  Kate’s face went slack, and she moved past him to go sit on a maple straight-back dining chair. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault, then.” She threw him an accusing glance. “Our fault.”

  William went over and knelt in front of her, then took hold of the clammy hands she was twisting nervously in her lap. “It weren’t your fault, or mine.”

  She tugged her hands away and raised her voice. “Yes, it is. Right from the beginning.” She sighed. “Do you know that the whole reason Pa caught the yellow fever is because I took off?”

  William frowned at her. “You couldn’t have stopped that just by stayin’ here.”

  Kate shot him a grim smile. “Yes, I could. He didn’t take sick here in Tanner’s Grove. After I left, he went looking for me. It was during his travels that he passed through a town stricken by the fever.” She looked down at her lap. “If it weren’t for me running off like a wild fool, he’d still be fit as a steer.”

  When she looked up again, her eyes were shimmering. He took hold of her chin and shook his head. “You can’t live with that kind of guilt. It’ll eat you somethin’ awful. If he hadn’t gone after you, somethin’ else could have happened to him right here in Tanner’s Grove. A wagon wheel accident, anythin’.”

  She swallowed. “If that wasn’t enough, you and Jack and I lost our heads that night under the tree.” She let out a disgusted sigh. “I never should have said anything to the sheriff. Maybe you wouldn’t have got such ideas otherwise.” Her gaze clouded. “I don’t mean to say you didn’t deserve to be spared. But I wasn’t thinking about Pa when I ran my mouth like that, and I should have. No offense.”

  He stroked back a strand of brown hair from her face. “I’m the one who told you not to do it, remember? I’m sorry it caused you both so much pain. I wished you hadn’t helped me, either.”

  She took hold of the hand stroking her hair and leaned her cheek against it. “I’m not sorry I helped you. I just wished I’d have thought of an alibi that was a bit less scandalous.”

  He smiled. “I suppose there were other excuses you might have come up with on the spur.” He hesitated, then rose a bit and sat in the chair next to hers. “Why did you use that one?”

  Kate’s face flushed an appealing shade of pink, and she shrugged. “I meant it when I said I didn’t say it to push a relationship on you. But I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t ever thought of you that way. I suppose that with that in the back of my head it just jumped right out.”

  “I won’t pretend it didn’t surprise and worry me,” he said. “But from a purely selfish standpoint, I didn’t mind hearin’ you talk about me that way.”

  She gave a half-hearted sigh. “I figured you would be put off, or that you’d laugh at me.”

  “Laugh? No, ma’am. I was worried you’d sore regret it later.” He looked down at his hands. “And you do.”

  “No, I don’t.” She shifted in her seat. “I don’t regret helping you out of that vexing fix. But I’ll admit I went about it wrong.”

  “I suppose it’d just make matters worse at this point to tell your pa the real reason you did it.”

  She shrugged. “Probably. Besides, it’s not just a false rumor anymore, is it? We did far more than just sleep together.” Her voice fell so low he could barely hear. “We brought another man into our arms. The two of you, I mean, it seemed like you hadn’t done that together before, either?”

  He shook his head. “No. It just felt right, sharin’ our love for you together.”

  “So Jack’s out in your bunkhouse now?”

  “That bunkhouse is long empty. I moved him into a room across the hall from mine when the rest of hands were let go.”

  “That was mighty generous of you.”

  “It was the least I could do. Jack was there for me, goin’ without pay and all. When none stood by me, he was a friend. Didn’t seem right to leave him in the hands’ quarters.”

  “So he’s in there now?”

  “I expect. He’s spent a lot of time in there since the night we tamed the mustangs.”

  He glanced up, unprepared for the sharp edge of hurt evident in her gaze. It cut straight through his stomach. When he reached a hand toward her, however, she stood up and began gathering plates.

  “Best we get to cleaning up, I suppose,” she said. She refused to meet his eyes when he tried to step in front of her.

  “Please, Kate, you don’t need to help clean up. You’re a guest.”

  Her back stiffened, and she clutched the dishes she held tighter. “Of course. Guess you figure clearing a table is a wife’s duty. And I certainly don’t count in that category for either of you.”

  She set the stack in her hands down with a clatter, and then flounced off toward
the door.

  “Kate,” he said.

  He could hear the quiver in her voice. “I need to check on Pa.”

  She was in the parlor before he caught hold of her arm, whirling her around to face him. “Don’t be mad,” he said, though her expression showed more sadness than anger. “I didn’t mean anythin’ by it. You know how I feel about you.”

  “Yes. You want me enough to have me in your bed—or outside in the dirt, at least—but not enough to take the proper next step. I understand perfectly.”

  He took hold of her other arm when she tried to pull away. “You don’t understand. I want you here with me. Every day.”

  A new glimmer of moisture rose in her already glassy eyes. “Then why did you reject me? You could have—”

  He cut off her protest by clamping his mouth on hers. Frustration and need poured out from him into his kiss. “I’m sorry for that, Kate,” he murmured against her lips. “Forgive me.”

  His body responded to the feel of her body pressed against him, and he slid his tongue into her mouth with a moan. She gave in for several moments, but then pulled back and put the palm of her hand against his pounding chest. “Forgive you for what? Rejecting me that night, or not being able to marry me?”

  He swallowed. “Both.”

  Her hand slid slowly from his shirt front and dropped to her side. “I told you, I can’t marry you now, even if you ask.” She glanced off toward the hallway where her father lay ailing. “You’ve seen why.” She looked back at William and stepped away. “I’m just not sure where that leaves any of us.”

  “It leaves us where I love you, and I know Jack still does, too. That’s why he spends so much time sittin’ in his four walls, tryin’ to think on what to do about it. We’ll do everythin’ in our power to get this ranch turned around and offer you a good life.” He hesitated. “When you’re ready.”

  She nodded after a moment. “Guess I’ve never been known to do things the way folks expect.” She lowered her voice again. “But that doesn’t mean our time together will be spent doing more of what happened that night. Not with you, and not with Jack. I just can’t.”