understand why you won’t at least consider the proposition I have for you.”
“Why? It won’t be in my best interest.”
“You can’t know that. You’re assuming I’m no better than your stepfather or that bastard who hurt you.” He held out his hand, palm up, just as he’d done with the stallion. “At least come tell me no and be done with it.”
She found her feet moving forward. “I can tell you no from here.”
“Yeah, but if you reject me here and now and I go back to the bunkhouse to lick my wounds and leave for home come morning, then you’ll never know what happened to the stallion.” A gleam of triumph widened his smile as he climbed the ladder, taking the light with him.
That man! She found her feet moving forward, taking her to the small glow of light, trailing down the wooden ladder from the loft above.
Hennessey gazed down at her, one brow cocked. “Interested?”
Wasn’t that what she’d expect? Men liked to dominate. They liked to control. Be in charge. Use leverage. The very reason why she could never marry again.
“That’s it.” The horseman gripped her wrist, then her elbow, aiding her up with hardly a strain to those muscles of his.
Reminding her how strong he was. Not as big as Brett, but bulkier. Iron hard. The latent power in Hennessey’s tall, lean form frightened her. It was his touch that soothed like steaming hot chocolate on a cold day. Like a toasty hot bath before a crackling fire.
She pulled away, her feet solid on the hay-strewn boards. She skirted a pile of hay just to get away from him.
“The snow’s letting up.” Hennessey’s baritone rumbled along the rafters she had to duck to miss bumping her head.
“Sure is a bad sign, getting a hard snow this early. Likely to be a cold, long winter. The old-timers say that, too.” Like a touch, his voice drew her closer. “That means your stepfather’s situation is going to get worse. This hay won’t last him through a long winter. He pinched pennies this summer by trying to get by with fewer hired hayers. It might cost him big.”
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
“Fine. I’m not denying it. But it’s a free country, and I do have the right to ask.”
She remembered how he’d looked on the midnight prairie. Remembered how he’d watched over her when she’d been feeding the deer.
“Are you cold?” he asked. “I’ll give you my coat.”
Already he was shrugging out of it. It was a soft calfskin jacket lined with fluffy sheep’s wool. How warm it would be, she realized, and how it would smell of his salty male skin. “No, I’ll be fine enough. I don’t plan on staying here long.”
“We’ll see what I can do to change that.” He shoved his fists into his pockets, looking oddly nervous and vulnerable for a man who towered over her, pure strength and might. “Look at the storm break. Sure is something.”
He wasn’t a polished lady’s man, that was for certain. Katelyn leaned her shoulder against the door frame. The rough-textured wood caught on her sleeve. It would be best to be honest with him. He looked as if he was suffering. “I know what my stepfather offered you.”
“I’m sorry you had to hear that. Had to make you feel pretty bad. I mean-” He hesitated, swiped his big hand over his face. “You’re not an animal.”
He really wasn’t eloquent, was he? She bit her lower lip to keep from smiling. That was a change from the men she knew, friends of her stepfather’s, friends of Brett’s. “No, I’m not livestock to be traded. I’m glad you understand.”
“Good. Then come and sit with me. You might as well enjoy the view while you’re up here.” He eased onto the floor and hung his feet over the edge. He held out his hand, palm up, to help her down. “You aren’t in a hurry to go back into that house, right?”
“Right.” Hennessey might not be sophisticated, but he was perceptive. He’d said the exact words to make her stay with him. At least he understood. That was what mattered. He wasn’t going to take Cal at his word.
Her relief felt as endless as the night sky, where the storm clouds ripped and shredded apart to show a thin curve of moon. The prairie stretched in a frozen hush as if in waiting.
Or, maybe that was the way she was feeling. Not relieved because the horseman understood but worried over what Cal would do next. Where he would send her, before she was strong enough to strike out on her own. Who would her stepfather offer her to next?
Cal was desperate, she realized that. Stretched tight and hurting for money. He was proud and cared only that it looked as if he were doing well. What he had to do to maintain that facade, well, he would do. Even sell her to the highest bidder.
She shivered, repulsed, afraid. The calm after the storm, the gloss of the moonlight on miles upon miles of snow made the world look like a prized pearl. So beautiful it hurt to look at it. She ached, wondering where her horizons lay, what the morning would bring.
What if one of the other hands found the stallion? Would one of them take her instead of diamonds and gold, when there was no money behind Cal’s reward offer?
The only option left her was to run tonight, in the bitter cold. She was not yet strong enough for travel. And without funds, she couldn’t take the easier journey seated on a passenger train. That left more arduous forms of transportation. She would not survive a stagecoach rattling her across Montana Territory.
“Want to know what happened to the stallion?”
Her head jerked up. “You said he got away from you.”
“No, I said I didn’t catch him. I wasn’t honest. I trapped him in a small canyon in the mountains. Made sure he was safe and hid my tracks on the ride back.”
“How badly is he hurt?”
So much concern. Dillon figured he liked the woman even more for her softheartedness. He could spend the rest of his days counting the pretty, privileged women he’d come across in his work, who saw their prized matched teams as little more than an extension to their fine, fashionable buggies and surreys.
He always figured a horseman’s wife ought to at least like horses. “The bullet hit him in the shoulder, I think. It was hard to tell in the dark and it happened fast. When I corralled him in, he wouldn’t let me close enough to patch him up. From what I could see, it was nothing serious now, but if the bullet’s still in there, he’ll need care.”
“And the other ranch hands won’t find him?”
“Not if I get him moved right away.”
“You’ll capture him, then, and tame him. Break him,” she corrected, adding the last words with a heavy disdain.
Or sadness. He could feel both. “I don’t break animals. I train them.”
“Isn’t that the same? Just because you’re not wearing your spurs now, you use them. You carry a whip.”
“I don’t wear spurs.”
“All the hired men wear spurs.”
“Then where are mine?” He held up his boot as proof. “My grandfather was a great Nez Perce warrior. He could talk with horses. A rare gift. He taught me what he knew. Gentle voice, gentle hand, gentle treatment makes for a gentle horse. Haven’t you seen me working your father’s mares?”
She shook her head, looking away toward the horizon. Appearing so lost and frozen inside.
“How about I make you two propositions?” He stood, because she was still standing, and watched her eyes narrow, felt her stiffen in distrust as he approached.
She smelled like beauty. Spring flowers and starlight, and the impact beat through him. Hot. Hard. Fast. He wanted her with a fierceness he’d never known and he couldn’t believe he was standing here, about to offer for her.
Hell, how was she ever going to say yes? “I don’t have much to offer a woman like you,” he began, because it was the truth and he didn’t want to lie to her. Ever. She had to know the man he was, good and bad. “I do have a
