by Jodi Thomas
For a moment, Cait thought he’d argue, but Win nodded shortly.
She ran back to the barn and caught Pepper, her pinto mare. Pepper snapped at her, obviously not liking to be bothered in the middle of the night. Cait slapped the mare’s nose lightly. “Behave yourself.”
Pepper curled back her lips, but didn’t try any more tricks.
It took only a few minutes to ready her, and Cait vaulted into the saddle. As she rode out of the yard, Deil neighed piercingly and reared up on his hind legs, probably upset that he was being left behind.
Two minutes later, Cait drew Pepper to a halt by the wild horses’ corral.
Win stood by the gate, his hand on the latch. “Ready?”
“Yep.”
Win pressed back the bolt and opened the gate just far enough that Cait and Pepper could ride through. He secured the gate behind them.
Cait picked out the foaling mare and used her knees to guide Pepper closer to her. The expectant mare snorted and pranced nervously. “Easy, girl,” Cait crooned.
The wild horses separated into two groups as Cait drew near, allowing her a path to ride through. The mare tried to follow one of the clusters, but a shift of Pepper’s reins and the well-trained pinto cut the mare off from the others. Cait gave Pepper her head and leaned into the sharp turns as the pinto herded the sweating mare toward the gate leading into the smaller pen. Just as Cait was about to yell at Win to open up, the gate swung outward and the foaling mare ran through it. Cait and Pepper followed, then Win latched the gate.
In a corner of the smallest pen, the mare trembled visibly and her flanks were sweat-soaked. Concerned, Cait dismounted, intent on examining her.
“She’s all right,” Win called out in a low voice. “Leave her be.”
“I want to see if she’ll let me near her in case she has problems,” Cait said impatiently.
“You’ll only upset her more. Get out of there.”
Cait wavered between her instincts and Win’s order, a rebellious part of her eager to disobey Win, even if he was right. Finally, Cait relented and led Pepper out of the enclosure. With Pepper’s reins wrapped around her hand, Cait stopped beside Win.
“We should go back to the house,” Win said, his gaze moving from her face down to her breasts and quickly back up. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Most horses don’t like an audience when they foal. Wild ones are even more that way.”
“What if she has trouble? What if the foal is turned? What if she’s too tired to push?”
Impatience flickered in his face. “She’s more likely to have trouble if she’s nervous, and with us around she’s going to be twitchier than a spinster on her wedding night.” Again, his attention fell to her chest.
Cait pressed her lips together, irritated that his eyes kept dropping below her neck. She finally glanced down, and saw that her thin gown was pressed against her bosom and the cool air had made her nipples harden. It was obvious she wore nothing beneath the gauzy material. Fighting her instinct to cross her arms over her breasts, she tried not to wonder what Win might be thinking. But the more she tried, the more she couldn’t help but imagine what was racing through his mind. Probably the same thing she was thinking when she stared at his bare chest the other day.
Stop thinking!
Shoving the wanton thoughts aside, she forced herself to concentrate on the mare. She didn’t like leaving her, but Win had a point. Her father had said the same thing. Horses been havin’ babies a long time afore people was around to get in the way.
“I’ll go, but I’m going to come back and check on her every fifteen minutes,” Cait said.
Win shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“I will.”
He chuckled, which only made Cait more annoyed. Maybe she was being overprotective, but she had a big stake in ensuring each and every foal survived. She couldn’t let her pa’s sacrifice be in vain.
Leading Pepper, Cait walked to the yard beside Win, much too conscious of her unbound breasts and the sensuous feel of the cool air against them. Delicious shivers streaked through her, and they intensified when she caught Win glancing at her. A devilish imp made her bump into him and her breast nudged his arm. He jerked away, as if a hot coal had burned him.
She should’ve thought it was funny, but she was reeling from the wonderful sensations of the “accidental” contact. It brought back vivid memories of the night they’d made love, when he’d done sinfully delicious things to her breasts until she was almost out of her mind with pleasure. No man had ever touched her before or since Win Taylor. Cait had thought about such intimacies with another man, but nobody she imagined could come close to her memories of that night’s bliss.
“You did a good job, Cait,” Win said as he watched her unsaddle Pepper.
“I learned how to cut out a horse not long after I started walking,” she said with a shrug, then faced him. “You were never impressed before.”
“I never realized how special you were before.”
“Don’t!” Her face flaming, Cait stomped into the barn to get some oats for Pepper.
Damn him! Years ago she’d tried everything she could think of to get Win to call her special. The only thing special about her now was being a spinster without her virtue.
She remained in the barn until her emotions were back under lock and key. Returning with her composure intact, she climbed onto the lowest rail and held out the bucket containing a handful of grain for her mare. Pepper crunched noisily.
“You can go back to bed. No need for both of us to lose more sleep,” she said with forced lightness. Win’s silent watchfulness increased her awareness of him, making her vibrate like a taut wire.
He didn’t move. “I kind of like how the moon makes you all silvery-like. Reminds me of that night.”
Cait’s eyes widened as her heart jumped into her throat. She clamped down on her emotions and kept her voice bland. “You must be thinking of someone else. It was a new moon that night. No silver moonlight.”
“No, it was you, Cait. I’d never seen anything as pretty as you that night.”
“I’m not that young girl anymore, Win, and I’m not going to throw myself at you like I was stupid enough to do back then. I learned my lesson the hard way.”
She scrambled down from the rail with the empty bucket and strode toward the barn. Win caught her arm, swinging her around. Cait trembled, half-hoping he would kiss her again, then hating herself for being so weak.
“No, you’re not a girl anymore,” he began softly. He cupped her face in his palms. “You’re a beautiful, independent woman who should be married with a passel of kids tugging at her apron strings.”
Cait forced a laugh. “Have you ever seen me in an apron?”
Win dropped his hands to her hips and spanned her waist with his fingers. “I can imagine, just as I can imagine you with beautiful blond, blue-eyed children.”
Cait propped a hand on her hip, then realized she’d only made her nightgown tighten against her breasts. She quickly lowered her arms. “That’s funny. When I was younger I used to dream of dark-haired children with hazel eyes.”
Win’s hands fell away and he stepped back. “I rode away so that wouldn’t happen.”
Cait’s smile felt more like a tortured grimace. “Don’t worry. It worked.” She spun around, set the pail by the barn, and grabbed her rifle. “I’m going to check on the mare. Good night.”
She was fearful that Win would follow her, but he must’ve taken her not-so-subtle hint and returned to his bed in the barn. The night was still, broken only by the familiar sounds of the horses, an occasional owl’s hoot, and a nighthawk’s screel. She shivered from the cool air and wished she had gone to the cabin to put on a heavy shirt before returning to the foaling mare.
Tiptoeing, she neared the pen where the mare lay on her side with a damp puddle behind her. The water bag had already broken. It would be a quick birth.
Cait laid the rifle on the ground and stood mot
ionless, watching as the foal’s front feet appeared out of the birth canal. She caught her breath even though she’d lost count of the number of times she’d seen a new foal come into the world.
Over the past years, the significance of each birth had grown for Cait. Ten years ago, she’d felt the beginning of life fluttering within her. Although she’d been ashamed of her condition and terrified of the day her father would learn her secret, the awe of a baby growing within her would make her cry at the oddest times. Sometimes she even imagined herself holding her child as it suckled her breast. There were even moments when she’d remember with joy, instead of regret, the night the child was conceived.
However, four months later she’d lost her baby and the ability to bear more. Now she would give anything, even the ranch, to be able to have a child. Instead, she brought foals into the world, tasting her bitter loss anew every time she did.
The foal’s nose peeked out and Cait found herself breathing with the panting mare.
C’mon, girl, you can do it.
More of the head emerged, then the knees, followed by the neck and flanks. Cait gripped the wood rail tight, but she hardly noticed the splinters biting into her palms. Her attention remained focused on the drama in the corral.
The mare pushed again and all but the back legs and hips of the baby were outside the birthing canal.
Cait brought a fist to her lips and gnawed at her knuckles anxiously. She’d seen this happen before and most of the time the back end of the foal was expelled some minutes later. The few times the foal remained locked in this position Cait’s pa would help the baby get free of its mother.
Long, fretful minutes passed and Cait considered getting Win, but discarded the idea almost immediately. This was her ranch now, and her responsibility. Win wouldn’t be here much longer and she’d have to know how to care for the horses on her own.
The mare tried a few more times to free the hindquarters of its offspring, but finally gave up, her side heaving up and down with her exertions.
Cait’s stomach fluttered, but she resolutely slipped between the rails and very deliberately neared the mare. She could see the whites of the mare’s eyes, but there was little strength remaining to continue the struggle.
“It’s okay, girl. It looks like you might have a small problem here,” Cait crooned softly, her voice trembling. “I can help, girl. It’s okay. Easy now.”
The mare’s gaze tracked Cait and she tried to rise once, but was too weak.
“Shhhh. Relax, Mama. You’ve got a beautiful foal here, but you both need a hand.”
Cait slowly squatted beside the mare and laid her hand lightly on her hindquarters. The mare’s skin rippled, but she didn’t seem overly fearful, only nervous.
“That’s right, Mama, I’m going to help you.” Cait concentrated on what her father had done and gently took hold of the foal’s slime-covered front legs.
“It’s okay, little one.” With slow steady pressure, Cait pulled downward, toward the mare’s heels. Her hands slipped once and she regained her slick hold on the foal. Again she strained carefully, tugging the foal until the hips popped out of the birth canal, along with the hind legs. Cait fell onto her backside with the foal’s head in her lap. She remained sitting on the damp earth, eyeing the tiny filly with wonder and joy.
She eased away from the foal and scuttled backward, away from the mother and its newborn. Slipping out of the corral, she tried not to disturb them. The longer the mother lay there, the more blood would be given to its baby through the cord connecting mother to daughter. The mare instinctively would know when it was time to struggle to her feet and break the cord.
Cait observed the new family, drinking in the healthy baby’s appearance. The filly’s long legs lay tangled beneath her, and it would be a challenge for the little girl when she got around to standing.
It wasn’t long before the mare rolled, getting her hooves beneath her to rise. The cord between her and her offspring broke and only a small bit of blood was shed. Mama sniffed every inch of the filly, then began to lick the infant clean.
Cait smiled as her eyes misted. Another healthy foal. There was only one expectant mare left now and she hoped that birthing went as well as the previous four.
“She’s a beauty.”
Cait whirled around and collided with Win. He grabbed her arms to steady her.
“You shouldn’t go around sneaking up on folks,” she said, pulling away from him.
“I wasn’t sneaking. You just didn’t hear me.”
She’d been so enthralled by the newborn that she wouldn’t have noticed a train barreling out of the trees.
“The foal’s hips got locked inside the mare so I had to give her a hand,” Cait said.
“I know.” He motioned toward her. “You could use a bath.”
For the first time, Cait noticed her arms and gown were covered by drying mucus and blood. She wrinkled her nose at the coppery scent that filled her nostrils. “I didn’t even notice.”
Win smiled crookedly. “I didn’t think you did.” He reached out and scrubbed her cheek with his thumb. “Here, too.”
Although, looking like she did, Cait knew Win couldn’t possibly have any type of indecent thoughts of her, she enjoyed his gentle touch. After hating him for so long, she couldn’t figure out how she could have tender feelings for him again. Was she that starved for intimate contact that she could be swayed so easily by a simple deed? Even from a man she had considered hunting down and putting out of her misery?
“You’re right. I’d best go clean up and get some sleep,” Cait said, suddenly not liking where her thoughts were headed. She glanced at the mare. “Everything’s gone well so I don’t think she’ll have any trouble with the afterbirth.”
“Do you want me to stand guard?” Win asked.
Normally, she wouldn’t have worried, but knowing there was a mountain lion nearby and that he’d surely smell the blood . . . “It’s not what you signed on for.”
His lips quirked upward. “I didn’t sign on for a lot of things, but that doesn’t mean I mind doing them.”
Even as a boy Win had been generous. While most little boys stuck girls’ pigtails in inkwells, Win rescued butterflies and bruised hearts. She blinked at the sudden sting of moisture in her eyes. Why had that kind-hearted, compassionate boy left her without so much as a good-bye ten years ago?
“Are you all right?” The concern in Win’s voice only made her more teary. “What’s wrong, Caity?”
He hadn’t called her Caity since . . .
She picked up her rifle and thrust it at him. “You might need this.” She whirled around and dashed away, her mind aswirl and her emotions seesawing like an uneven teeter-totter.
Chapter Six
WIN SHIFTED HIS backside on the cold, unforgiving ground. Even with a blanket wrapped around him, the night’s chill had seeped into his bones. The predawn glow illuminated the eastern horizon and gave the surrounding mountain peaks a coral blush.
A butterfly flitted past and Win followed its erratic flight from one resting place to another. Win could almost envision Cait in her pigtails and overalls scampering after it. He’d asked her one time why she tried catching them and she’d told him, in her little grown-up voice, that she wanted to give them a home. He’d told her each butterfly already had a home and if she caught it, it’d never find its way back. She’d thought about that for a full day before she started chasing them again.
Win had spent most of the night thinking about Cait, trying to figure out why she was so prickly one minute and soft and sweet the next. Despite his vow to keep his distance from her, he found himself looking for reasons to get nearer.
And that damned kiss. He tried to tell himself it was to prove her wrong, that there was still something between them. But the honest-to-God truth was he’d wanted to kiss her. He’d wanted to do a hell of a lot more, too, but his napping conscience had finally awakened and kicked him in the ass.
Last night had b
een a test of his resolve, and he’d nearly failed. But how could any man ignore what lay beneath the filmy gown she’d worn? Intimate memories of her had only made it more difficult. He’d managed to hold on to his sanity by a thin thread and had escaped into the barn while she’d gone to watch over the mare.
However, when he’d watched Cait pull the foal from its mother and her brilliant smile afterward, he’d felt something fracture within him. Something he’d fought against ever since he’d ridden out of her life was slowly eroding his determination.
He pressed himself upright and stretched, groaning at the stiffness in his muscles. The mountain lion hadn’t returned, but Win didn’t know if it was because the cat was long gone, or because it had smelled a human near the horses. Either way, the mare and her newborn filly, which was now sucking greedily on her mother’s teat, were doing well.
He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Cait walking toward him. She wore clean tan trousers, a brown and green plaid shirt, and no hat. Her long blond braid swayed with her stride that was both purposeful and feminine. The picture was marred, however, by her somber expression, which was absent of vulnerability and softness.
“No problems,” Win said before she could ask.
She didn’t meet his gaze, but studied the mare and foal. “The afterbirth?”
“No problems there either. I took care of it about an hour ago.”
“Thanks.”
Silence surrounded them and Win didn’t feel the need to disturb it. He was tired, not only from the sleepless night, but from Cait’s mercurial moods.
She finally turned toward him. “Breakfast is about ready.”
He merely nodded and they walked quietly back to the cabin, where he washed up and shaved before coming to the table. The meal was eaten in silence.
“When will you need my help with Deil?” Cait asked as she cleared the table.
Win noticed the barely perceptible shudder that passed through her. “Are you certain you want to help?”
She met his gaze steadily. “No, but I’ll do it anyhow.”