Maverick Wild (Harlequin Historical Series) (9 page)

“Y
ou ever seen a newborn foal?”

At the sound of Garret’s voice, Cora glanced up from the lemon cake she was frosting. His broad shoulders hidden by the half-opened door, Garret’s white hair glowed like a beacon in the bright sunlight.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Would you like to?”

If anyone else had asked, she would have agreed in a heartbeat, but she didn’t want to encourage Garret’s attention. Strong and handsome, she was sure any other woman would appreciate the constant doting that was beginning to wear on her nerves.

“Rosie dropped her foal just about an hour ago,” he said. “The Appaloosa is Tucker’s favorite mare. He thought you’d want to see her.”

Tucker had sent him? “Okay.” She put the finishing swirl on the icing. She swiped a dab of frosting from the empty mixing bowl before setting it in the sink, then tucked her thumb into her mouth, happy with the sweet lemony flavor.

She stepped out of the back door and squinted against the bright sky. “Your hair positively glows,” she said, the smooth, pale strands seeming almost translucent in the intense light. “I’ve never seen hair so white as yours and Josh’s.”

He smiled and tugged on his wide tan hat. “When we used to drive cattle out of Texas, some of the boys called my father The Viking on account of his pale hair, and likely his gruff manner.” He glanced up at the sky as they set off across the yard. “This is the prettiest day we’ve had all spring.”

There wasn’t a single cloud left from yesterday’s storm. “I was sure the sky couldn’t get any bluer.”

“We don’t get many days like these, with the wind died down so we can feel that sun on our skin. The rain washed a good coat of dust off everything. Made a mess of the roads, though,” he said as they reached the end of the yard.

Every pit and groove in the dirt road held a puddle of water.

Garret held out his arm. “I’ll get you across.”

After a few precarious steps through the saturated, slippery ground, she accepted his help and wrapped her fingers around the solid muscle beneath his blue sleeve.

“We had to move some of the mares,” he said, guiding her around a large puddle. “The ground behind the stable is a bit flooded.”

He led her up the road to a set of wide-open doors at the center of the stable. She stepped into the surprising warmth of a long building filled with oversize stalls. A tall, slender heater stood in the center row at each end, creating quite a cozy environment. She followed Garret to a stall holding a russet mare, her hindquarters dusted white and flecked with spots of deep amber.

“Hello, Red,” Garret said to the young foal lying beside its mother in the hay. At the sound of his voice, the small horse struggled onto its spindly legs. The only white on the foal was four socks and the hint of light flecks on the filly’s backside. Her new coat gleamed.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t she?” Garret opened the gate and motioned for her to go ahead of him. “This one’s gonna be a real prize.”

Cora knelt down to pet the fluffy fur of its neck. “She does shimmer.”

Garret crouched beside her, brushing his hand across its coat in a vigorous caress. “Too bad they don’t keep this soft down. I’ll be surprised if Tucker sells her. He sure waited long enough to breed Rosie.”

“Hey, Garret! You in here?”

“Yeah,” Garret answered, standing to look over the stall.

Cora rose up enough to see a head of thick blond hair step in from the bright sunlight. Tucker smiled at the sight of her, and Cora released a sigh of relief. She’d been doing her best to avoid Chance. He seemed to be doing the same. She wasn’t quite sure what had come over her the other day and didn’t care to explore the startling sensations she’d been feeling in his presence ever since.

“You came out.”

“She’s beautiful, Tucker.”

He turned his attention to Garret. “Ike says he spotted the wildcat you’ve been hunting. Took down a calf out on the north pasture. You want to ride out or should I?”

Garret glanced back at her, indecision clear in his hazel eyes.

“Go,” she said.

He hurried from the stall, saying, “I just gotta grab my rifle.”

Tucker leaned against the gate, his expression thoughtful as he held her gaze. “You know, you’re the only one aside from Skylar who can do that.”

“Do what?”

“Tell us apart at a glance. I must get called Chance ten times a day.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “I’d think anyone could sense the difference. Chance puts off a cold front I can feel a mile away.”

“He doesn’t mean any real harm, you know? He’s just—”

“Rude.”

Tucker smiled and crossed his arms over the top of the gate. “I was going to say blunt, but I suppose you’re right. I guess we’re all just used to him. It’s nothing personal against you, I swear.”

Sadness washed through her. She glanced back at the foal and ran her hand across its soft coat. “He’s made it quite clear that he hates me. It doesn’t get much more personal than that.”

“Darlin’, Chance doesn’t hate you any more than he hates me.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“I think half the time he fools himself. I’m sure it would be a lot easier to just not care about anyone. He carried a lot of grief over leaving you behind. We both did. We left home ready to save the world and discovered we could hardly save ourselves. By the time we made it back to the farm, Winifred had sold off the land and you were long gone.”

Cora’s heart clenched. “You really went back for me?”

“Not soon enough. Couldn’t have been an easy life, living with your mother.”

“We’ve all had our hardships,” she said, moving to stand across the gate from him. The knowledge that they’d gone back healed some of the hurt she’d been carrying for so long. “Chance mentioned you’d both been in a prison camp.”

Tucker’s eyes widened in clear surprise. “He told you about that?”

“Just a brief mention.”

“Which is about all he’s ever said to me on the subject. Since we got out, he’s refused to talk about it. Not exactly highlights either of us care to rehash.”

“I’m sorry. It must have been horrible.”

“It was pure hell. Being a couple of smartass kids who didn’t realize we were in well over our heads didn’t help us any. It was Chance’s rotten luck to be the instigator the night one of the guards figured out we had one real weakness.”

He shifted his gaze to the foal. The pain she saw in his eyes sent a chill over Cora’s skin. As silence stretched, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what that weakness had been, but she had to ask.

“What weakness?”

“By hurting just one of us, he could crush the other.”

Her breath stalled. “Was Chance beaten?”

Tucker shook his head. “Not that night or during the days that followed. The guard thought he’d grabbed Chance, but after he started in on me it didn’t much matter. I don’t remember much after that. No doubt I would have died if a sympathetic soldier hadn’t sneaked us out of camp.”

“Oh, Tucker.”

“I was the lucky one. I don’t remember hardly any of it. Having to be the spectator sure snuffed Chance’s fire. He’s generally one for sticking to the straight and narrow, and tugs me back in line when I need it.”

“I don’t know how to take him,” she admitted.

“I suspect he’s having the same problem. Give him some time. As I recall, it took us a while to warm to you after our folks married. But we ended up having us a time.” He smiled fondly. “Never would have guessed a girl could be so skilled at gigging frogs.”

“I never had so much fun in my life as the time I spent with both of you. That hasn’t changed. The past two weeks have been a blessing.”

“We sure hope you won’t rush off.”

She didn’t see any other option. The tension between her and Chance was only getting worse. “It was never my intention to stay,” she said, reminding herself of that very fact. Though she had hoped to find a home with the brothers of her youth, she’d merely needed time to catch her breath, make a plan for her future. “You don’t need to worry about me,” she said, forcing a smile. “Like a weed, I can root anywhere.”

“You’re not a weed, Cora. You’re
family
.”

That in itself was a gift. In the past couple weeks she’d nearly felt part of a family.

“I’d better get back to work,” he said, pushing away from the gate. “I’ll be over in the next barn. If you need any help getting back to the house, just give a holler.”

“Thank you.”

He reached over and tugged gently on a stray curl, his emerald eyes gleaming with a smile. “That’s what big brothers are for.”

Brothers
. That had been all she’d ever wanted, to have them back in her life.

Watching him leave, she stepped from the stall and glanced around the clean stable, their care and hard work clearly visible. She was proud of all they’d achieved, the life they’d made for themselves.

Rosie moved forward, sticking her head over the gate. Cora reached up and rubbed behind her stiff ears. Cora’s heart ached, knowing her presence only dredged up bad memories for the one man she never wanted to hurt.

“How’s my best girl?”

The warm gentle voice washed through Cora Mae like a caress. She pressed into the shadows against the stall and peered beneath Rosie’s muzzle. Chance stood in the sunlight that poured in from the side door. His back to her, he reached into the first stall and patted a large fawn horse.

“Feeling neglected?” he asked.

Very
.

“Soon as you drop that foal I’ll have you back out there. ’Course, then you’ll be more interested in looking after your colt than chasing down mavericks with me.”

No wonder he hardly ever spoke around his family. He obviously saved his conversation for the horses. She watched his hands move caressingly over the horse’s coat. He saved his touch for the horses, too. At the thought of his hands moving so softly over her, a tingling jolted through her body.

Good gracious
.

She glanced back at the end door where a wedge of sunlight glittered across a wide puddle. Inching her way back, she stepped lightly through the water. Once around the side of the stable, she released a hard sigh of relief.

She didn’t know how to take him at all, she thought. She hurried up the mucky slope. She wanted to make it back to the path before Chance left the stable. With her next step, she slipped and splashed onto her knees.

“Blast.”
Gritting her teeth, she plucked her hands from the cold mud. The stuff clung to her like clay as she tried to push to her feet. Finally upright, she took another step.

Her feet shot forward. With a shriek she landed flat on her back.

Drenched in cold, Cora sucked in a shuddering breath. She sat up, everything but the front of her bodice now coated in mud. Hoping to salvage a shred of pride, she tucked her feet beneath her, ready to try again.

Coarse laughter drew her gaze to the top of the rise. A gleam of sunlight outlined broad shoulders and the vee of Chance’s chest. He towered over her like a Greek god. Beneath the hat tugged low on his brow, his green eyes sparkled with sheer delight, turning her embarrassment to pure rage.

“This isn’t funny!”

“From where I stand, it’s downright hysterical.” He sauntered toward her. Chuckling, he stepped lightly through the mud. “Need a hand?”

“No, thank you.” She pushed to her feet, her fingers digging into the soft mud as she stood.

“How about a bucket of water?”

His laughter died the moment he spotted her fistful of mud. He cocked a golden eyebrow. “You’re a bit too old for mud fights, Cora Mae.”

Mud drizzled between her fingers as she clenched her fist. She was just the right age to knock him on his overgrown, arrogant butt. “How many times must I tell you to call me
Cora?
” she said, taking aim at his annoyingly handsome face.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You’re far too prissy to end up facedown in the mud.”

“Which shows how little you know me,” she said, and slung.

Mud slapped him across the face and splattered against his blue shirt. His stunned expression forced a laugh past her tight lips. Expecting him to rage, she took a sliding step back. His swift smile caught her completely off guard.

“Oh, you’re in for it now.” He tugged off his hat, tossed it to safety, then reached toward the ground.

Cora rushed back, sliding as she groped for another fistful. Mud struck her dress. She screamed and pelted him in the chest.

“You little—” He collided against her. Cora screeched as she went down, splashing into the mud. Laughing, Chance landed on his knees beside her. He glanced up, his eyes alive with mischief.

“I warned you.” He stood and dumped a handful of muck on her head.

“My hair!” she sputtered. She grabbed ahold of his booted ankle and tugged.

Chance went down with a mighty splat. He pulled her into the mud right beside him.

“Heathen!”
she shouted, twisting against his hold as he wrestled her over the top of him.

“Girl!” He pinned her beneath him, her face an inch from black water. “You do know I could drown you in this stuff if I wanted to?”

She peered up at him through the grime dripping from her hair, her grin so wide her cheeks ached. “Big words for a mudskipper.”

Deep laughter leaped from his chest and his hold loosened, giving Cora the advantage she needed. She lunged up, tackling him back into the mud. They sloshed in a mad struggle to subdue the other. Overtaken with giggles, Cora lost her grip and he slipped from her grasp. He rolled her to the ground, thoroughly soaking her.

“Chance!”

“Yield!”

“Never!”

“What the hell’s going on!”

Chance released his hold just enough for her to look up. Tucker stood outside the second stable, his eyes wide with horror.

Chance rolled away from her and sat up. “Hey, Tuck.”

“Chance?
Cora?
My God, are you…okay?”

“Is
she
okay? She nearly drowned me.” A wide smile parted the mud on his face.

Cora laughed, quite proud that he currently bore no resemblance to his twin.