The Edge Of Courage

good addition to the town.”

“Just curious. Trying to make sense of what’s happening.”

Mandy looked at him with an assessing gaze. He doubted she liked what she saw. “Are you hungry? I can make a sandwich for you,” she offered, gesturing toward the main house.

He shook his head. “I want to get the mowing done before I take a break.”

“You are eating, aren’t you?”

Rocco leveled a hard glare at her. “Kit tell you to babysit me? ‘Cause I don’t need a woman to look after me.”

She took a step nearer to him. And another. The hairs rose on his arms, his neck. Was she as soft as she appeared? He ached to discover the feel of her. That very thought cooled his reaction. If he touched her, she would see, feel, wear the blight that infected him. He’ll have made a leper of her, all for the fleeting relief touching her would provide.

Mandy stood barely a hand’s breath away. Her voice, her scent, those were the only things he would ever know of her. Yet he couldn’t resist taunting her, himself. He leaned closer, sucked in more of her lush scent. He did not touch her with his hands or his body or his face, just held himself close to her warmth. She should know what danger she was in if she tried to break through to him with food, or kindness, or laughter.

“Where I come from, Rocco, people treat each other with respect and kindness. I meant no insult by offering you a sandwich.”

Dammit all, he was hungry. He’d kill for that sandwich, but he didn’t dare eat-not a full meal, anyway. He kept himself in a constant state of deprivation. The hunger pangs gnawing at his insides were the only real thing in his world. As long as he felt them, he knew he was conscious and not hallucinating. It was his only landmark in what had become the crazy jumble of his mind.

And it wasn’t just food he craved. He yearned for wild, unfettered sex. For a life lived with intent. For anything and everything that was Kit’s sister. None of which could he experience until he had his son safely home with him. He took a step back. Glaring at her, he set his glass down and retrieved his hat, then made his way toward the tractor and the fields that needed mowing.

Chapter 5

Mandy drew a ragged breath as she watched Rocco walk away. She closed her eyes, picturing him as he’d just been, seeing his dark, brown hair, dark brows-one that arched a little higher than the other, lips bracketed by creases, hollows in his cheeks, his eyes consuming her.

She’d thought he was going to kiss her when he’d leaned forward. Her body still thrummed with anticipation. She forced more air into her lungs, then headed to the house, where she phoned Kit.

“Hi, Em,” he answered. He’d called her by the first initial of her first name since their schooldays. There was something comforting in that old moniker. “How’s it going?”

“You could have warned me.”

The phone was silent awhile. “I didn’t want to scare you. He needs to be there, you know. He needs what you’re doing.”

“He’s so angry.”

“Well, you would be too if you went through what he went through.”

“What happened to him?”

“War, baby, in all its ugly, scarring wretchedness. Just work your magic on him, ok?”

“I don’t think he’s eating. He looks so lean.”

Kit sighed. “This is what I was afraid of. He’s as stubborn as an ass, Mandy, but he has to eat. How’s he sleeping?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think he is. He works late into the night.”

“Probably still having nightmares. All you can do is work on one thing at a time. Get him to eat first, then we’ll tackle the rest.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“How’s the construction? Anything new?”

Mandy told him about the cigarette butts and Rocco’s concern over the paths in the back acreage.

“That’s it. I’m coming out there,” Kit said with some finality.

“There’s no need for that. What would you do that Rocco won’t? If there is something happening, he’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t like it, Emmy. I want you to be safe.”

“I am safe. Everything’s fine, or at least, it will be soon.”

* * *

That evening, Rocco took another tour of the property, looking for anything that jumped out at him, wondering if his instincts were misfiring or if something odd was really happening. Nothing seemed changed. No new cigarette butts had appeared.

As he came out of the hills behind the ranch buildings, he saw Mandy step into Kitano’s pen. He watched from a distance, not wanting to distract her or alarm the horse. He had the advantage of being downwind from the corral, giving him the luxury of observing them unnoticed.

She started to walk slowly in a clockwise direction, moving with the confidence of a seasoned trainer, her posture neither one of aggression nor timidity. The Paint was facing her. He stomped the ground in warning. She kept moving forward as if she were merely enjoying an evening stroll. Kitano tossed his head, then moved a few steps away from her. She continued forward. Kitano moved as she moved, walking in a circle, staying ahead of her. His pace quickened.

Rocco’s nerves tightened. What the hell was she doing in there alone with a mad horse?

Mandy stepped into the center of the corral. As Kitano moved in front of her, she raised her hand and made a few low, clicking sounds with her tongue, encouraging him to keep moving. She turned as he moved around the perimeter of the corral, clicking her tongue at him when he slowed. And when he grew a little winded, she dropped her hand and stood still. He eased down to a walk and then a full stop. She started walking toward him, this time in a counter-clockwise direction. Again, he moved away from her. When he sped up, she moved to the middle and repeated the exercise until he was fully winded. Then, and only then, did he let her approach him.

She took a rag out of her back pocket and touched it gently to his neck, behind his ears. Rocco could hear the low rumble of her voice as she spoke to Kitano but not the words themselves. Kitano tolerated her strokes until she reached his withers with the rough cloth. He tossed his head and whinnied, then rushed away. He stopped at the opposite side of the corral, watching her with a white-eyed glare, his sides heaving.

Mandy left the corral and waved at Rocco. “Thank you for waiting.”

“I didn’t want to distract him.”

She nodded. “He spooks easily. He doesn’t like men very much.”

“Doesn’t seem to like anyone very much.” Rocco shoved his hands in his pockets as he looked down at her. The sun was low in the horizon, inching toward the jagged ridges of the Snowy Range, washing the land, the ranch, and Mandy in the warm orange hues of the long spring sunset.

“True. But he’s letting me get near him, letting me touch him. That’s big progress.” She stepped up on a board of the corral and dumped a bucket of feed into his trough. She reached for the big bucket of water from the wagon she’d used to haul the feed and water out to the corral, but Rocco lifted it for her, pouring it into Kitano’s deep water bucket.

“Speaking of progress, you did great with the fields. Think you can get the baler to work?”

“Sure. I’ll do it when the hay dries. Where do you want me to stack the bales?”

“I’d like them protected from the weather, but there’s nowhere to put them right now. The barn isn’t safe, and the pole barn isn’t ready yet. How about stacking them up next to the toolshed?”

Rocco nodded. “Will do. I’ll start on the old fencing tomorrow. What do you want to do with the wire?”