Daddy Wore Spurs (Mills & Boon Cherish) (Men of the West, Book 32) (9 page)

Quickening her steps, Mariah reached the shed row where the stallion, Rimrock, was stalled along with four geldings. The gates to all five stalls were swung wide with no horses to be seen. A hurried glance told her the stalls had been shoveled all the way to the dirt floor, but no clean shavings had yet been added. At the far end of the shed row, near the tack room, a shoeing stand, a rasp and hoof nippers were lying on the ground.

Finn had certainly been busy. That much was clear. But where was he now? A glance at the paddock to her right told her the mares were all there, munching contentedly at a manger full of alfalfa.

Suddenly the wind swirled from the north and with it came a cloud of dust from the other side of the barn. Mariah hurried around the huge building, then stopped in her tracks and stared in amazement at the training arena some fifty yards away.

Finn was riding Rimrock in a slow lope, directing the horse in large looping figure eights. Dust boiled from the stallion’s hoofs, sending brown clouds swirling around animal and rider.

Slower now, she walked over to the arena and stood just outside the wire mesh fence to watch. Finn was handling Rimrock as though he was a docile kid pony, instead of a high-strung stallion that hadn’t had a person on his back since her father had passed away.

Only a few moments clicked by before Finn spotted her. With a short wave, he drew Rimrock to a walk and directed the horse in her direction. As horse and rider grew closer, she noticed Finn was wearing a pair of hard-worn chinks with hand-sewn buck stitching. The butterscotch-colored leather was scratched and scarred from the top of his thighs all the way down to his knees, while in some spots the fringe edging the legs was either missing or broken off to a shorter length. A pair of long shanked spurs with clover rowels worn smooth on the edges were strapped to his boots. Apparently he carried the tools of his trade with him at all times, she decided.

One thing for certain, no matter what angle Mariah looked at him from, he was all cowboy. And the sight of him sitting astride Rimrock was more than enough to set her heart to pounding.

“Hey, Mariah,” he greeted her with a grin. “How was school today?”

Beneath the shade of his broad-brimmed hat, she could see his gaze traveling up and down the length of her. No doubt he was wondering why she was out here in the dusty ranch yard in a skirt and high heels. But she wasn’t about to confess she was so worried about him she’d hurried straight out here instead of changing clothes.

Her heart suddenly hammering, she struggled to tuck strands of loosened hair back into the twist at the back of her head. “School was fine. From the looks of the stalls you’ve been busy today.”

The saddle leather creaked as Rimrock took a restless side step. Finn gently touched his spur into the horse’s side to make him return to the spot where he’d initially reined him to a stop.

“I’ve been occupied.”

He rested a forearm across the horn of the saddle and Mariah could see he was as much at home on a horse as he was in a chair at the breakfast table.

She said, “In case you hadn’t found them, the clean shavings are in the tractor shed.”

“I found the shavings. But I’m in no hurry to spread them. I’m going to turn the horses out for a while. They need to graze and run. And they especially need to socialize with one another.”

Mariah spluttered. “You’re letting them loose? I hope you’re not planning to put the geldings in with Rimrock. He’s wild. He might kill them!”

Finn chuckled and Mariah’s backbone immediately stiffened. Aimee had often laughed at her, too. Her sister had considered Mariah’s knowledge concerning horses, and men, and fashion, amusing and even more lacking. It hurt to think that Finn considered her naive, too.

“He doesn’t appear wild to me.” He patted the stallion’s neck. “Besides, the geldings have legs. If need be, they’ll scoot out of his way. But Rimrock understands the geldings are not—uh, let’s just say, all men. So he hardly feels threatened by their presence.”

Shading her eyes with her hand, she continued to gaze up at him. “Dad was the last person to ride Rimrock four years ago. He was very unruly then. How did you get him to behave like this?”

A slow grin exposed his teeth and it struck Mariah that she’d spent half the day dreaming about those lips, while the other half had been on Harry. She could only hope she’d made sense while she’d been lecturing her students on California history.

“I just told him we were going to be buddies. That’s all.”

He climbed down from the horse and came to stand directly in front of Mariah. The fence between them did nothing to protect her senses from his overwhelming presence, and with each passing moment she felt her breaths grow slower and her heart beat faster.

“That simple, huh?”

He grinned and the warm light in his eyes sent pleasure spreading through her like a ray of sun after a long, cold rain. Being away from him only for a few hours had seemed like an eternity, and now that he was standing so near, it was all she could do to keep from reaching through the fence and latching onto his shirt. Just to touch him in any small way gave her pleasure. The kind of pleasure that was hard to resist.

“I’ve been riding since I was just a wee tot. And everyone tells me that I have a kinship with horses. I’m sure your dad had it, too.”

Ray Montgomery had been a good horseman, but he’d had to work hard to learn the trade. Mariah figured it all came natural to Finn. As natural as the dimples in his cheeks and the easy way his lips had moved over hers.

In an effort to clear her straying thoughts, she drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “A tot? Exactly how old were you when you took your first ride?”

“I’m told my grandfather carried me in the saddle when I was only a few weeks old.”

“A few weeks! Your mother must’ve been going out of her mind with fear!”

Chuckling, he said, “Not really. She’d already seen my three older brothers on a horse when they were only babies. By the time I came along, she was used to it.”

“So this means if Harry turns out to be your son, you’ll be putting him on the back of a horse in the near future?”

His grin deepened. “No ‘ifs,’ Mariah. Only when. And once the test reveals I’m the father, then I plan on doing lots of things with Harry. And that includes riding him on a gentle horse.”

Even though the idea of Harry being on the back of a thousand-pound animal was terrifying, she didn’t say anything. Because in the end, if it turned out that Harry was his son, she’d have no rights to the child’s upbringing.

After a stretch of silence, he asked, “What? No loud protest?”

“No.” She smoothed a hand down the front of her skirt, then turned away from him. “And now that I see you haven’t been kicked in the head or bucked off with a broken leg, I’d better be getting back to the house. I’m keeping Linda from going home.”

He arched a brow at her. “Oh. So you were worried about me?”

Heat flared in her cheeks. “Linda said she hadn’t seen you since lunch. We were both concerned.”

A sly glint appeared in his blue eyes. “It’s nice to have a woman worrying over me.”

“I’m not worried now.” She turned to go only to have him reach through the fence and snag a hold of her shoulder.

“Wait, Mariah. Before you leave, I want to talk to you. Let me tie Rimrock and I’ll come around there,” he told her.

* * *

Finn tethered Rimrock to a post, then exited the arena through a nearby gate. As he walked down the fence to where Mariah stood, he was struck by how different she looked. Compared to the blue jeans and work shirts he’d seen her in the past two days, she looked far different in a slim gray skirt and thin white blouse. Although the feminine clothes were cut modestly, her curves filled them out in all the right ways. And the black high heels covering her pretty little feet were as sexy as all get-out.

Halting a short space away from her, he tried not to gawk, but ever since they’d parted ways at the health department this morning, he hadn’t been able to get her image out of his mind. Now his eyes seemed to have a mind of their own. Instead of looking out at the mountains or the mares behind her shoulder, they continued to travel over her mussed black hair, the thrust of her breasts and the enticing way her hips curved out from her tiny waist.

“You have something you want to say?” she asked.

Clearing his throat, he said, “Uh—yes, the fences—I wanted to ask you about them.”

“What about the fences?”

The fabric of her blouse was just sheer enough to show a hint of lacy undergarment, and the sight stirred up thoughts that he’d been trying all day to forget.

With a mental shake of his head, he gestured toward the open land to the west. “Do you know if the fences are upright? And is the land sectioned off with cross fences? I’ll need to know before I let the horses out to pasture. I don’t want them wandering too far away from the ranch yard or getting on your neighbor’s land.”

A thoughtful frown furrowed her brow. “Sorry. I don’t know how long it’s been since the fences have been inspected. Dad used to make routine checks to ensure they were all intact. But after he died Aimee wasn’t too concerned about fences. All she ever worried about was the arena and the stalls.”

“That’s a hell of a way to run a ranch,” he said frankly.

One of her slender shoulders made a negligible shrug and the movement drew Finn’s gaze to the white fabric opened at her throat. The silver cross he’d given her was lying against her creamy skin and he found himself wondering if she was wearing the piece of jewelry because she liked it, or the man who’d given it to her?

She said, “Looking back on it now, after Dad died we should have hired a man to manage the ranch. He might’ve done a better job than me of dealing with Aimee’s neglectful ways.”

“No use fretting about the past now. I’ll check the fences myself. I’m sure there are a few old roads traveling over parts of the ranch. I’ll drive out this evening and inspect what I can before dark. Would you like to go with me?”

Her lips parted and Finn’s gaze homed in on the moist curve of her lower lip. He’d kissed plenty of girls over the years, but none of them had tasted quite as sweet or seductive as Mariah. And that was worrisome. How did a man forget something that good?

“I suppose I could join you,” she said guardedly. “But what about Harry? I’d have to ask Linda to stay and watch him.”

She was being agreeable and that was enough to put a grin on his face. “No need for that. The weather is nice. We’ll take him with us. Isn’t that what parents do when they go on a family outing—take their baby with them?”

Confusion flickered in her eyes. “But we’re not parents.”

Unable to stop himself, Finn moved closer and gently cupped his hand along the side of her face. “For now we’re Harry’s parents,” he said softly.

“Yes. I suppose. For now.”

Her eyes suddenly misted over and before he could say anything else, she pulled away from him.

As Finn watched her walk away, he realized the taste of Mariah’s lips wasn’t only one thing he’d eventually have to forget about the woman. The depth of emotion in her gray eyes, the touch of her hand, the heady scent of her skin and the sweet husky lilt in her voice. Those things would haunt Finn long after he was back on the Horn and Mariah had moved on with her life.

Did that mean he was falling in love with her?

Hell, Finn, that’s a stupid question. You’ve only known Mariah for three days. A man can’t lose his heart to a woman that quickly.

Maybe not, Finn thought uneasily. But a moment ago when she’d walked away with tears in her eyes, he’d felt like a part of him had gone with her.

Chapter Eight

F
or now we’re Harry’s parents.

Later that evening as Finn drove the three of them over the western section of the ranch, his words continued to roll through Mariah’s thoughts. To imagine the two of them as Harry’s parents, even temporary ones, was bittersweet.

As a young girl growing up without a mother, and with a father who’d been absorbed in his work, Mariah had dreamed of having a real family of her own. One that was loving and whole and could never be torn apart. When she’d met Kris during her college studies, she’d thought all those dreams were going to come true. Dark-haired and conservative in nature, he’d been the first guy who’d given her a serious glance and she’d naively fallen for his attention. Now she realized what a Pollyanna she’d been to trust him. Even more to believe in her dreams. Real families were fairy tales. At least, in her world they were.

But with Finn sitting only inches away and Harry safely ensconced in his car carrier in the backseat, she couldn’t stop herself from dreaming, or smiling.

For nearly an hour Finn drove the truck alongside a network of boundary and cross fences that were located closest to the ranch yard. Once he’d determined the repairs needed, he decided to follow a dim, overgrown road that would lead them to a portion of the ranch that ran alongside a river.

Eventually, the truck crested a small rise and a stretch of open land lay before them. In spite of the dry spring, the ground was covered with clumps of grass and long-stemmed yellow flowers that bowed with the evening breeze.

Finn braked the truck to a stop to take in the sight. “Oh, Mariah, this is awesome,” Finn declared. “I’m going to guess this is the area where your father grew alfalfa.”

She nodded. “That’s right. And about a mile on west from here is a second meadow that was used for grass hay. There’s some of the irrigation system over there.” She pointed to their left, where long pipes connected to large spoke wheels sat at the edge of the tree line. The weeds growing around the equipment revealed how long it had been sitting idle.

“Did your dad pump water from the river or is there a well around here somewhere?”

“Both. Depending on how much irrigating he wanted to do. The well is somewhere over there by the wheel line.”

“Let’s get out of the truck for a better look,” he suggested. “We’ll leave the doors open and stay right by the truck so we can keep an eye on Harry.”

“All right.”

The jostling of the truck had lulled Harry into a deep sleep. Mariah covered him with a light blanket to protect him from the cool evening air before Finn helped her to the ground.

Once they were standing together at the side of the truck, Mariah gazed around her and drank in the beauty of the nearby mountains juxtaposed with flat river land. Other than the faint sounds of insects and the rustle of leaves, a peaceful silence encompassed them.

“I’d almost forgotten how beautiful it is here,” she murmured. “When Aimee and I were small we used to ride horses to this meadow. In the summer we’d take off our boots and wade in the river. ’Course, we never told Dad about the wading,” she added with a wistful smile.

Finn moved close enough to slip an arm around the back of her waist. The warm weight of it filled her with an odd mixture of contentment and excitement.

“So you did have some good times here on the ranch.”

Pleasant memories suddenly flooded through her, causing her heart to wince. “Lots of them,” she said lowly. “But that was before Aimee and I grew apart. And before Dad left us.”

He looked down at her, his eyes full of misgivings. “I wish you’d change your mind about selling the ranch, Mariah.”

“Why?”

His hand tightened on the side of her waist. “Because I have a feeling and it’s telling me you belong here.”

Her rueful laugh came out sounding more like a choked sob. “You don’t know me well enough to make that call.”

With hands on both sides of her waist, he turned her toward him. Mariah’s heart thumped with anticipation.

“I’ve already learned a lot about you, Mariah. There are so many things I can see in your eyes that tell me what you’re thinking and the kind of woman you are.”

Unable to stop herself, she rested her palms against his chest. “And what sort of woman am I?” she asked huskily.

His head bent toward hers until a scant space was the only thing separating their lips.

“A woman I want to see smile. A woman I want to make love to.”

By the time his voice died away, his lips were hovering over hers, robbing her breath and her senses.

“Finn,” she whispered.

His arms tightened around her. “Tell me you want me, Mariah. As much as I want you.”

His words were enough to make her tremble. “I do want you, Finn. Very much.”

She heard him groan and then everything else faded away as he began to kiss her. Not in a gentle way. But in a hungry, all-consuming way that weakened her knees and forced her fists to snatch hold of the front of his shirt.

Just when she was certain she was going to faint from lack of oxygen, Finn lifted his head. But the reprieve only lasted long enough for her to haul in one deep breath before his mouth attacked hers once again from a different angle.

A tiny particle of Mariah’s brain recognized that something was happening between her and Finn. Something that went far beyond the heat fusing their mouths together. She wanted to tear his clothes away, to beg him to make love to her right here on the ground.

The reckless abandon racing through her was like lightning racing across a summer sky. And when his hand cupped her breasts and his mouth made a downward descent along her neck, she groaned with raw, unleashed desire.

It wasn’t until he’d unbuttoned the top of her blouse and pressed his lips against the valley between her breasts that a brief flash of sanity warned her to end the embrace. But the pleasure of Finn touching her, wanting her, was something she’d never had before. She couldn’t give it up.

Nearby, a night bird suddenly called. Then called again. The sound must have shaken Finn out of the erotic fog that had wrapped around them. He lifted his head, then eased back far enough to allow the cool night air to drift between them.

Totally shaken, Mariah turned and attempted to catch her breath and wrangle her scattered senses back together.

Behind her, she could hear the ragged intake of Finn’s breath and she wondered if his world was tilting as much as hers. Or was making love to a woman second nature to him? It had certainly felt like it, she thought.

“Dusk is falling,” Finn said after a moment. “Are you ready to head back to the ranch?”

The fact that he was giving her a choice to leave this magical place made her feel somewhat more in control of herself, but only a little.

She cleared her throat. “Yes. I—think we’d better.”

He moved up behind her and closed a hand over her shoulder. “I can’t apologize for any of that, Mariah,” he said gently. “When I touch you it feels very special. Not like something I should be ashamed of.”

Her eyes squeezed tight, she fought against the urge to turn and fling herself back into his arms. Oh, how good it would feel to let herself go, to simply enjoy this man’s touch without worrying about tomorrow. She deserved that, didn’t she? To simply allow herself to be a woman?

Trembling through and through, she turned and gave him a wobbly smile. “It feels very special to me, too, Finn. But I’m not sure if it’s the right thing for me. I don’t do this sort of thing for fun and games.”

“That didn’t feel like a game to me.”

She could find no appropriate reply to that, and with a hand at her back, he urged her around to the truck.

On the way back to the ranch, Mariah remained quiet and so did Finn. The episode at the meadow had swiftly altered everything between them. Now as she gazed out at the darkening landscape it was as though she were seeing it for the first time. The same way her father must have seen it twenty years ago. And the images put a very real pang of loss in her heart.

* * *

Much later that night Mariah woke up without reason and glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand: 1:20 a.m. She groaned. For hours she’d lain awake, reliving Finn’s every touch, every word, until finally sleep had overtaken her mind. Why had she suddenly woken? Had she been dreaming?

The quietness of the house settled around her at the same time an uneasy sensation pricked her senses. Something was wrong.

Tossing back the covers, she rapidly tied a light robe over her gown and hurried across the hallway to Harry’s nursery. Beneath the dim glow of the night-light, she could see the baby was sleeping soundly and she sent up a prayer of relief.

Still, something didn’t feel right, and that perception deepened when she walked down the hall and saw the door to Finn’s room standing wide open. As a respect to her privacy and his, he always kept the door shut whenever he was in his bedroom. Seeing it open and the room dark meant one thing. He wasn’t there.

Panic suddenly struck her and she raced on bare feet out to the kitchen. A night-light next to the sink illuminated the room enough for her to see that Finn wasn’t there. And with the rest of the house in darkness that could only mean he was outside.

Grabbing up her cowboy boots from the mudroom, she jerked them on and dashed out the back door. The temperature had fallen drastically since she’d gone to bed, but she hardly noticed the chill as she instinctively ran toward the barns.

Lights were burning beneath the shed row, but Finn wasn’t anywhere in sight.

Slowing to a trot, she glanced into each stall. By the time she reached the end, Finn was still nowhere in sight.

Pausing to give the frantic beating of her heart a chance to catch up, she called loudly, “Finn? Where are you?”

“Over here, Mariah.”

Relieved, she followed the sound of his voice to the back of the barn where a small pen was equipped with a lean-to shelter. Beneath the overhang of the tin roof, she could see the shadowy image of Finn kneeling over a downed horse. Her short-lived relief was suddenly pierced with alarm and she quickly let herself into the enclosure.

“Finn, what’s wrong?”

“I came out here to check on the mares before I went to bed. Thank God I did. This one is trying to foal. But both of the baby’s front feet are together. The head won’t follow that way. One foot needs to be forward more.”

“Oh, no! This is her first foal, Finn. Should I call the vet?”

“I’ve already called one. But it’ll probably be another hour before he can get here.” Finn gently rubbed the mare’s sweaty flank. “I’ve got to do something before then or it will be too late for both of them.”

Mariah could hardly bear to hear the animal’s groans as she strained to expel the baby from her. She’d never helped with any of the foaling before. Her father had taken care of those things. Along with Aimee’s help. Mariah had always been told her help wasn’t needed. “Is there anything I can do?”

He glanced up, his gaze making a rapid sweep over her. “You’re going to freeze in those nightclothes. And what about Harry?”

“Harry is sound asleep in his crib.”

His expression stern, he said, “I don’t want him left in the house alone. You’d better get back.”

“I’m not leaving you out here unaided,” she practically shouted. “You might need help before the vet arrives.”

Rising to his full height to emphasize his point, he repeated, “I said I don’t want Harry in the house alone!”

Seeing that there was no point in arguing the matter, she started out of the pen. “Fine,” she muttered. “We’ll do this your way.”

Not waiting to hear his response, she left the barn area and hurried to the house. Inside, she pulled a jean jacket over her robe, then went straight to the nursery and gently swaddled Harry in a heavy quilt. The child never stirred. Even when she made a beeline back to the barns.

After she’d settled the sleeping baby in his wagon, she positioned it in a safe position outside the mare’s pen.

By now, Finn was too involved with the troubled delivery to notice her whereabouts, until she reentered the pen and joined him beneath the overhang.

“I brought Harry back with me. He’s sound asleep and warmly bundled,” she told him, then gestured toward the straining mare. “Is she any better?”

Finn dismally shook his head. “No. And too much time has already passed. I’m going to try one more thing to see if the baby will turn itself. If it doesn’t, then I’ll have to try to do it myself.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “Have you done that sort of thing before?”

“Only a handful of times. Mostly, there’s no need. The Horn has a resident vet that handles the ranch’s emergencies.”

The evident worry on his face urged Mariah to lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “If you’ve done it before you can do it again. I have every faith in you. But let’s pray you won’t have to.”

He shot her a grateful look. “I don’t want to lose this mare and baby. Right now I’ve got to get her up and walking. Hopefully that might relieve enough pressure of the uterine walls to give the foal enough room to turn itself.”

Mariah moved out of the way and Finn wasted no time in getting the suffering mare to her feet and walking her around and around the small pen. Five minutes passed, then ten. All the while Mariah continued to pray for the mare’s and baby’s safety.

Eventually the mare balked and started lowering herself back to the ground. Finn dropped his hold on the lead rope and allowed her to stretch out.

“Finn! What’s happening? Is she dying?” Mariah asked frantically.

Finn knelt closer to the mare and began to examine her. “No. I think she’s telling us the baby will come out now. Yes! Here it comes! Just the way it should.”

Mariah watched in wonder as first one little hoof emerged. A few inches behind, the second hoof appeared, and then the head. After that, the mare had no trouble delivering the rest of the foal.

For the next half hour, Mariah watched Finn deftly deal with the pair, who appeared to be in good condition, especially considering the prolonged birth. When the lights of a vehicle announced the arrival of the vet, she scooped up Harry.