by Caroline Lee
“You going to be all right?”
Maybe he’d seen her shifting uncomfortably in the saddle, or maybe she’d finally let out one of the groans she’d been trying so hard to keep in; Rojita didn’t know. She’d done her best to hide her discomfort, especially after the way he’d made fun of her that morning. He probably already thought that she was brash and impetuous, and she didn’t want to give him any more fodder for his poor opinions.
Still, maybe climbing back on a horse after being thrown the day before was a bad idea. Her back ached from sitting upright, and her legs ached from holding on, and her head ached from… well, from everything. They’d only been riding for a few hours.
This was a dumb idea, and she didn’t know how much more she could take.
Finally steeling herself to push back the hood of her lovely cloak to look at him, she was disconcerted by the slight frown that pulled at those hard lips. His brows were soft, and darn it if he didn’t look… concerned. It was the same look he’d given her that morning, when he’d lifted her into the saddle—she couldn’t manage to climb in herself, and had figured that would’ve been something else he could be nasty about. But when his big hands had wrapped around her waist and lifted her so easily, she’d gotten a bit light-headed. He certainly was strong, wasn’t he?
And not too bad to look at, either. She found that out this morning, lying on top of him. Oh, she’d gotten an eyeful last night, especially when he’d squatted beside her and at least pretended concern, but in the daylight he sure was handsome. Not too big, but well-built. His dark hair—covered now by his hat—was going a little silver at the temples, and silver hairs dotted his short beard. But the only lines on his face were the faint ones at the corners of his eyes, and she figured that he wasn’t too old.
Yeah, he was a looker—as Max DeVille would say. Unfortunately, it was obvious that Hank didn’t think much of her. She told herself that it was okay, that he didn’t need to like her; he just needed to get her to Everland. Despite her best intentions, it was becoming apparent that she just wasn’t cut out for life on the range, which was irritating.
So she’d lied to him, told him that she could pay him that exorbitant fee if he helped her, and was feeling no little amount of guilt.
Shoot, he was still looking at her, like he genuinely cared about her well-being or something. Rojita turned her attention stalwartly to the back of Lobo’s horse’s head, determined to ignore him.
“Hey Red, I asked—”
“I’m fine.”
He snorted, letting her know that he wasn’t buying her assurances. Well, it didn’t matter what he believed, only that he got her—and Abuelo’s will—safely to Everland.
It felt like forever before he spoke again, although that might’ve just been because Rojita was feeling absolutely every bounce in the saddle and dip in the road. “So, why’d you get off the train, Red? You feel up to explaining to me why we’re riding all this way?”
The way he asked that last question managed to climb under her skin and irritate her further. He’d managed to sound concerned and like he was making fun of her. “There was a man…” And then the horse—demon-creature, really—put its foot down extra-hard, and she couldn’t contain her gasp at the pain that radiated from the center of her back. To think! She’d been so, so comfortable this morning when she’d woken up cradled by his warmth, and now felt like most of her body was on fire.
It’d probably had something to do with the way he’d smiled at her when he’d found her draped all over him like a hussy. It’d just been a little grin, one he probably hadn’t even known he was making, but it had been… nice. It made her feel safe, and that was surprising and comforting all at once.
But now, now she was just miserable, and he was sitting over there waiting for an answer. “I… I have to get to my grandmother’s house.” There. That was surely the most important—Rojita groaned again when the blasted animal apparently began to practice calisthenics under her.
“You ain’t a real horsewoman, are you?” And then he was beside her, and Rojita didn’t have the chance to figure out how to tell her animal to move away or speed up or anything, before she felt his arm around her waist. She didn’t even have time to be angry at his high-handedness or his tone, which she would’ve, if she’d had the breath. But instead, she was flying through the air, the reins slipping from her fingers, in a way that didn’t feel at all like being thrown yesterday.
And then she was seated on his lap. On a horse. He was on a horse, and she was sitting on his lap, and this wasn’t at all proper, was it? But then he shifted slightly, pulling her legs over his and supporting her back with one strong arm, and Rojita decided that she didn’t care one whit. His thighs were soft enough to cushion her rear end from all of the bounces and bumps of the road, and his chest was broad enough to protect her from some of the wind.
Propriety be damned; if he was willing to have her sit on his lap all the way to wherever-they-were-going, then she absolutely was not going to argue. She pulled her cloak out from under one thigh, made sure that she was well-covered, and then curled up into his heat, pressing her cheek against his shoulder and sighing in contentment. Did he have the reins from Lobo’s horse? She decided that she didn’t care enough about the blasted animal to bother checking.
“So, your grandmother?” Oh dear, she’d forgotten her story. But if she was going to talk him into escorting her to Everland, she had to make him understand why it was so important. Important that she get to Abuela’s house.
But suddenly, she couldn’t seem to drum up any interest in what had yesterday been a life-threatening situation. Probably still was, honestly. But right now, snuggled up into his heat, El Lobo just didn’t seem to matter as much anymore. “Hmmmmmm,” was all she said.
He tried again. “You said you had to get to your grandmother’s house?”
“Mmm-hmmm. She lives in Everland. Outside of Everland, I guess.” The yawn took her by surprise, and she felt him chuckle. Peeking up at his face, she could see one corner of his mouth turned up slightly, under his short beard. Was he laughing at her? Because she couldn’t manage to think straight, surrounded by his warmth? She frowned, and tried to sit up straighter, but his arm clasped around her back and pulled her closer to him.
Rojita briefly considered fighting his high-handed action, but she was honest enough with herself to admit that this was much more comfortable than sitting straight and stiff on his lap, so she just sighed… and thought that she heard him echo it.
“So, you got off the train in Marston, to visit your grandmother in Everland, even though the Everland spur goes right through Haskell, which would’ve been your next stop anyhow?”
“Yes.” She yawned again, and was it her imagination, or did his arm tighten around her? Goodness, she was suddenly quite tired. Maybe she hadn’t slept as well as she’d thought last night, or maybe she still hadn’t fully recovered from her fall yesterday. “There was a man on the train, and I needed to get off.”
“I’ve been on trains before, honey. There’re usually plenty of men.”
“Not this man. He’s… dangerous.” Rojita realized that she was fiddling with the buttons on his coat, and couldn’t seem to make herself stop. Talking about Lobo made her stomach knot up, but touching Hank—having him touch her—made her feel… safe. What was wrong with her? She’d only met him yesterday, and already she was trusting him to get her home safely? “He’s been after me since Salt Lake. I thought I was ahead of him, until I realized he was on the same train. So I got off.”
She felt him snort, and didn’t know if he was laughing at her again. Didn’t know if it mattered. Another yawn, and her eyelids grew heavy. He certainly was comfy, wasn’t he?
“What’s his name?” She didn’t want to answer. Didn’t want to do anything but rest here with her eyes closed, cheek pillowed against his chest. “Red, what’s this ‘dangerous’ man’s name?”
“El Lobo.”
She
heard him mutter a curse under his breath, and then she was asleep.
CHAPTER THREE