Cattleman's Courtship (11 page)

Read Cattleman's Courtship Online

Authors: Carolyne Aarsen

Tags: #Romance, #Love Inspired, #Harlequin, #Carolyne Aarsen

BOOK: Cattleman's Courtship
4.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Cara’s heart began a slow, heavy beating and her face grew flushed. “What do you mean?” Cara said, wishing her voice didn’t sound so strangled.

Nicholas slashed the air with his hand. “Nothing. Just slipped out.”

Cara’s hands clenched a little tighter on the reins. And then she felt a shiver of frustration. Until this wedding was done, they would be spending more time together.

It might make things easier for both of them if they confronted what had happened.

And how would that help? Nicholas had made it clear that their relationship was over.

But the few glances they had exchanged, the few moments of connection hovered in her mind. And she had missed that so badly when she left. Though she had gone on a few dates herself, she had never found the same rapport, the same connection she and Nicholas had shared.

She was leaving, so why not get some of this out of the way? What could it hurt?

“Do you think we didn’t love each other enough?”

Cara wasn’t aware she had voiced the question aloud until she saw Nicholas’s head spin toward her.

“Why do you ask?”

“That came up in our last conversation,” she said, keeping her attention on the trail winding ahead of them. She eased one foot out of the stirrup, thankful for the cramp in her foot to distract her.

“That wasn’t a conversation, Cara. That was a conflagration.”

Cara turned to him. “What else could I say? I asked for something from you that you couldn’t give. Something I thought was important for our future relationship.”

“Did you have any idea how much your request would cost me? Would cost the ranch?”

“Or would cost your father?”

Nicholas frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

Cara knew she had ventured into territory she had never dared set foot on when she and Nicholas were dating.

But that was when she thought she had something to lose. Now nothing was at stake except her own wounded pride and an inexplicable desire to have Nicholas see the situation from her viewpoint.

“I think it’s easier for your father when you work so much.”

Nicholas’s frown warned her, but she had gone this far, she may as well keep going. She struggled to articulate her thoughts without sounding as if she didn’t like his father.

She was about to speak when a coyote bolted across the trail.

Nicholas’s horse startled, reared and bumped into Two Bits.

And everything went crazy.

Cara saw the world spin once as her horse twisted. She made a quick grab for the saddle horn, but missed.

She flew sideways and hit the ground with a bone-jarring crack. An electrical charge jolted up her head into her neck. Her vision went dark.

“Cara. Cara. Are you okay?”

Was that Nicholas sounding so angry? She blinked, trying to get her bearings, pushing herself up by her elbows. She heard a thumping of hooves and turned just as Nicholas’s mount bolted back down the trail. Its stirrups flapped and its feet pounded out a mad rhythm in time to the thundering in Cara’s chest.

Then Nicholas crouched at her side, his hands pushing her hair back from her face. “Are you okay?” he repeated, his fingers moving over her head, his arm supporting her shoulders.

She tried to move away but he held her down.

“Don’t move. I want to make sure nothing’s broken,” he said, his voice firm.

She chanced a look up at his face, inches from hers, his eyes dark with concern.

“I’m okay,” she said, feeling as if someone had robbed her breath.

“You don’t sound okay,” he said, his fingers grazing her temple, fingering through her hair.

It was his gentle touch and his arms around her that caused her voice to sound so strained. So unsure.

“Really, I’m fine.” She struggled to her feet, swaying as she tried to regain her balance.

But he was there to catch her. She leaned against him, and once again let him hold her up.

Just until I get my balance,
she promised herself, her hands resting lightly on the front of his shirt.
Just for the smallest moment,
she thought as her fingers curled against the warmth of his chest.

She closed her eyes, fighting the sudden wave of longing threatening to sweep her hard-won independence away.

She couldn’t give in. Nothing had changed and she would only endanger her heart again.

And slowly, feeling as if she were pulling herself back from a dangerous precipice, Cara lowered her hands and drew back.

“Really, I’m fine,” she said.

But Nicholas kept his hands on her arms.

“I want to get you back to the house.”

“What about Lorne and Trista?” she asked.

“They’ll figure things out soon enough.” Nicholas’s eyes flitted over her features. Then he frowned and brushed his fingers over a tender spot on her one temple. “I’m more worried about this bump.”

Cara wanted to protest one more time, but then a wave of dizziness hit her and the concerned look on Nicholas face told her he saw it, too.

He whistled, Cara heard the sound of hoofbeats and then Two Bits came up beside Nicholas.

“Why did that other horse run away?” Cara asked, blinking hard to get her eyes into focus as Nicholas caught the reins. “Did you get bucked off?”

“No.” Nicholas sounded insulted at her question. “I bailed when I saw you hit the dirt. And while I was distracted he reared and pulled the reins out of my hands.”

Cara nodded, then wished she hadn’t. The ache in her forehead was spreading.

“Here. You’re going to ride,” he said, looping Two Bit’s reins over his head.

“I don’t think so. I’ll walk.” She wasn’t ready to get back on a horse again.

“It’s too far and I don’t want you falling over.”

Cara was about to protest again when, in one smooth motion, Nicholas had her up on the saddle and then he was right behind her.

She felt as if she should put up some token resistance, but realized that was foolish. If she had a concussion, she couldn’t walk, nor could she ride on her own. Nicholas was being practical.

But her pragmatic analysis couldn’t explain away the increased tempo of her heart, and the tingle rushing to the tips of her fingers at his nearness.

“Relax,” he murmured, slipping one arm around her waist and pulling her back. “You’ll get a headache sitting all tense like that.”

“I’m not tense.” But in spite of her protestation, she had to force herself to rest against his chest.

His chin rubbed the side of her head and if she peeked up, she could see the brim of his hat and a piece of his hair hanging down over his face.

As if he sensed her attention, he angled his head downward. “Do you have a headache?”

“Just a bit.” She forced her gaze ahead, watching the trail as the horse walked down it. “Double vision?”

“So you’re a doctor now?” she joked, trying to find equilibrium in humor when she was far too aware of the strength of his arm holding her close and the warmth of his chest against her back.

“I’ve taken a few spills. Had a concussion once.”

“I don’t think I have a concussion. I fell on the dirt.”

He nodded and she didn’t know what else to say.

So they rode in silence. Each second added to her mental and physical discomfort as the silvery beginnings of a headache made itself known and the nervous knot in her stomach tightened with each footfall from the horse.

“So how—”

“When do you—”

They both spoke at once, as if each were trying to pierce the same discomfort.

“Sorry—”

“Go ahead—”

Silence again.

“When do you have to bale the hay?” she asked, needing to talk about something.

“This week sometime, if the weather holds. We’ve got about one hundred and sixty acres to roll up and it’s running pretty heavy, so that should keep me busy.”

“Do you do it all up in round bales?”

Oh, listen to you, sounding all rancherlike.

She ignored the mocking inner voice. She was simply making conversation. Nothing more. Trying to sound interested in what Nicholas was interested in.

“I have an old square baler from my grandfather that I use to make up small square bales for the horses. The rest I do up in the large round bales.”

“How many horses do you and your father have now?” Good job. She sounded much calmer.

“Ten. Dad sold four last year.”

“Why?”

“So he could buy more horses.”

Cara wasn’t sure if she imagined the edge of frustration in his voice. “But you still have your dad’s roping horse, Duke.”

“Yeah. He’ll be staying on the ranch until he’s dead. Probably put him beside Jake, his brother. He died two years ago.”

“Most people bury hamsters and goldfish out back,” Cara joked.

His laughter rumbled up his chest as she stared at the trail ahead, a soft breeze teasing her hair. “Those we bury closer to the house,” he said. “Don’t take up as much space.”

“You had hamsters?”

“A couple. I was better with big animals than small ones.”

“I know the feeling. I don’t care for working with smaller animals as much as horses and cows.”

“So why do you work with small animals then?”

She felt caught on the barbs of her casual comment. “Well, it’s easier to find a job in small animal care. And I can move around a bit easier.”

“Which is important to you?”

She bit her lip, unsure of how to answer him and thankfully, he didn’t follow up on the question.

They rode quietly for a while and his chest rose and fell, then again, as if he was about to ask her a question.

But nothing.

They were back to the beginning and she didn’t want to return there. For a few wonderful moments, they had shared the easy rapport they had before their breakup and, despite her caution to herself, she was drawn again to this man.

You’re moving on,
she reminded herself.

Yes, but wouldn’t it be easier if she left on better terms with Nicholas than she had the last time?

“When your great-great-grandfather came, was there much of a town?” she asked. She knew the best way to draw Nicholas out was to talk about the land beneath their feet.

Nicholas shifted in the saddle, the arm holding her close to him loosening a little, as if he had released some tension.

“Cochrane was just a small outpost when he came from England.”

“That was about 1887?”

“Yeah.” She sensed his puzzlement but pushed on.

“So did he come with a wife, or did he meet her here?”

“Actually, she was a mail-order bride.”

“And how did that work out?”

“Good, I guess. Apparently she wasn’t crazy about the ranch at first. She was from London, but she had chosen to come and made the best of it. Later the land drew her in and she grew to love it.”

“Like I said, I can see why.”

A heavy silence fell between them.

“Could you have?” he finally asked.

The question hung between them and Cara wasn’t sure how to answer it.

“I guess we’ll never know,” was all she could say.

“I guess.”

Did she imagine the wistful note in his voice? Did he miss her as she had missed him?

She took a chance and angled her head so she could see him better. And her heart hammered in her chest when she caught him looking down at her.

Their faces were mere inches apart. She could feel his breath, warm and gentle on her cheek.

The moment trembled between them and then, slowly, Nicholas’s head shifted, she turned her face and their lips brushed each other.

Cara closed her eyes, as Nicholas kissed her again, her hand coming up to cradle his jaw, then slipping up to touch his cheek.

Her breath left her as her emotions veered between doubt and longing, between yearning and common sense.

She wasn’t staying here and neither was Nicholas. Yet…

She waited a moment. Just one more moment to treasure this kiss and store it away.

“Cara, what’s happening?” he whispered.

And his quiet question jolted her back to reality.

What they had done was a dangerous and costly mistake. Once again things had altered between them but where could it go? Nothing in either of their lives had changed.

And yet, in this moment, it was as if the ground beneath her had shifted.

She pulled her scattered emotions together, withdrawing back into herself.

Thankfully they were out into the open and heading toward the corrals. The ride was coming to an end.

They arrived just as Nicholas’s father pulled into the yard with his truck.

Other books

Thrown By Love by Aares, Pamela
Thinner by Richard Bachman
Maya by C. W. Huntington
The Terminators by Hamilton, Donald
Unfriendly Competition by Jessica Burkhart