The Horseman

For a man who never could get up the courage to court a woman before Katelyn, he was doing damn good. He’d do his best to keep going, to prove to her beyond a doubt that she could trust him. That she could give him the pieces of her heart she was holding back.

One day, the wariness and the shadows would be gone, and when she looked at him she would see the man she loved and trusted beyond anything. Without question. He simply had to keep doing his best.

“How’s that new stud of yours doing?” Dakota signaled his pinto to the corral where the stallion watched.

When the Appaloosa spotted Dakota, he laid back his ears and showed his teeth.

“Guess he remembers you, brother.” Dillon laughed as he told the stallion, “If you feel the urge to bite one of us, make sure it’s him.”

“Funny.” Dakota slid off the mustang’s rump and approached the fence. “I came over to see if you needed help lancing that wound a second time. But it looks like it’s healing up clean. Is there any pus?”

“Nope. I’ve been keeping a good eye on it.” Dillon’s gift with animals was small compared to Dakota’s. He watched while his brother spoke to the stallion, the language of their grandfather rolling off his tongue with ease.

“He’s in less pain and he’s starting to figure out he’s stuck here.” Dillon dismounted with a creak of leather. “He’s getting cranky.”

“He’s not happy to be here.” Dakota climbed on the fence and braced his forearms on the top rung. “He’s a Spirit Horse. You can’t keep him here. You can’t train him to saddle and bridle the way you did the others.”

“I know, brother.” Dillon braced his elbows on the wood planks and studied the rare Appaloosa, as black as midnight from his nose to his hooves. Except for the perfect blanket of markings over his withers and rump.

“He can’t be tamed.”

“He shouldn’t be. There’s a bounty on his head.”

“How will you keep him? Imprison him here when he’s made to run free? Keep him penned like a trained pony?”

“I can’t say it hasn’t been troubling me.” But it had been Katelyn who’d dominated his thoughts. Katelyn he’d been teaching to trust.

“I figure I’ll worry about the stallion when he’s well.” Maybe by that time he would have earned her love and she would be his completely and forever. He’d never have to worry about her growing discontent or regretting her choice to come here.

“Hey, you’re not listening, brother. You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

“Who?” Dillon shook his head. His thoughts had drifted away. He worried that he’d imprisoned her. Given her a future that she’d needed but, deep in her heart, didn’t want.

And yet, her words came back to him, tentative but honest. I love you. She’d said those words to him and meant them. She’d do it. She’d come to trust him completely, he’d make damn sure of that.

Everything he did from this moment on, he would do for Katelyn.

“It’s no sense talking to you.” Dakota waved him away like a speck of dust and whistled to his pinto. “You stay there and moon over that woman of yours. I’m going to go take a look at that filly of yours that’s hobbling. Is she still in the stable? Why do I bother to ask?”

Dakota stalked away in disgust.

One day, brother. You will feel this way, too. Dillon had never before been so close to a woman. Being married wasn’t all that he thought it would be. He figured at the best it would be a companionship. A soft sweet presence at the end of his day, to walk into the house, tired from hard work, and she’d be a friend to talk to. A lover to take into his bed at night.

Katelyn was more. He couldn’t define it any more than he could define the wind. He could feel it on his skin, watch it move through the grass and shake the cottonwood boughs and force the clouds across the sky.

But he couldn’t hold it in his hand. And that was the nature of love, he realized.

He knew the moment she was approaching. The prairie could hide her in its swells and troughs, and still he could feel her like the wind on his face. Like the grasses in the fields, he was moved.

Sure enough, there was the faint ring of steeled shoes on hard-packed snow. The birds stilled. The gophers hid. The mare and stallion both swung to the north, watching as the familiar sorrel nosed into sight on the rise, drawing the sleigh he’d built himself.

Katelyn. She was a small dot of gray hat and coat, and he filled more and more as she came near. There was no other way to describe how he felt. He was whole when he was with her.

He loved watching her drive into the yard. She was smiling. She must have had a good visit at the neighbors’. Women needed time together, he’d observed, and he was glad she was making friends. Fitting into the fabric of things. Please, be happy here. Please, never want to leave.

He took her hand to help her from the sleigh. “Is that chicken I smell?”

“Yes. There were so many leftovers, Mariah handed out plates of food as we were leaving. This will save me from having to make supper.”

“Oh? Maybe we can make something else instead.” Embarrassed, he looked away.

He supposed he oughtn’t to speak of his need for her outside the dark haven of their bedroom, but he couldn’t help it. He had to let her know he desired her. Only her. For the rest of his days.

There would be no other woman for him. Ever.

He let his kiss tell her. Let his devotion well up from his soul and flavor his kiss. He felt her respond with warm velvet kisses and tenderness.

Oh, yeah, she loved him. He kissed the tip of her nose. The dimple in her chin. Now give me the rest of your heart, darlin’. “If my brother wasn’t here, I’d carry you upstairs and show you how much I love you.”

“Your brother’s here?” She honored him with one last tempting kiss. “If he wasn’t here, I’d surely let you.”

“Really?” His low rumble of satisfaction vibrated through her. She could feel his want and his love for her. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to go chase my brother off so I can have you all to myself.”

“You’ll do no such thing! If your brother is here, then he’s invited to supper. There’s more than enough, and I can make the biscuit recipe Betsy gave me. Wait!” She squealed as he wrapped her in a bear hug, tenderly overpowering her and tossing her over his wide shoulder.

Their laughter drifted around them like the snowflakes gently descending.

“It was a fine meal, Katelyn.” Dakota thanked her with a polite nod before pushing his chair from the table. “I thank you for it.”

“I’ll pour the coffee, if you two men want to take it in the parlor.” Before Katelyn could rise, Dillon was there, pulling back her chair, taking the opportunity to skim his fingertips along the back of her neck as if saying, later.

Desire flickered through her, flame hot and staggering. If my brother wasn’t here, I’d carry you upstairs and show you how much I love you. His promise beat in her blood, growing bigger, brighter until it was all she could think of.

She wanted his touch. She wanted the callused pads of his fingertips grazing against her bare skin. The satin heat of his kiss, firm and demanding on her mouth, her throat, her breasts.

She melted, remembering. He’d made love to her this morning, right here, laying her over the table and she could feel his love, his heart, all he was as they moved toward release together.

She blushed, turning to the stove and pretending to search for a hot pad. As if he knew exactly what she was remembering, Dillon lifted the braid from the back of her neck and planted a hot, sucking kiss on the back of her neck.

She came alive, body and soul.

Dillon left the room, but his effect on her remained. The affection he felt for her was as tangible as the stove’s heat on her skin.

She was home. For the rest of her life. The first thing, now that she was well, would be to make curtains for the windows. Her man apparently did not think of those kinds of necessities, so she’d be happy to do it for him.

Maybe a cheerful yellow gingham for the window behind the table. She tried to envision it as she set the full pot on the stovetop. Yes, it would do nicely, something soft and draping with full ruffles.