Without so much as a wave, Beulah hiyahed her patient mule into a lazy walk. Cait, feeling a frisson of worry for her friend, watched until the buckboard disappeared from view.
Win, buttoning his shirt, joined her. “Now I remember her. She’s that crazy lady from down near Otters Gulch.”
As children, Cait and Win had only known Beulah as that crazy lady from Otters Gulch. It wasn’t until after Win had disappeared that Cait had come to know Beulah Grisman as an eccentric, independent woman with a heart the size of a saddle blanket.
“That’s what we used to call her,” Cait admitted, then added, “She may be a little strange, but she’s not crazy. We became friends after you left.”
Win’s brows furrowed, probably wondering how they came to know each other, but Cait wasn’t about to enlighten him. That chapter of her life was closed.
Cait knew she should shelve the box of goods she’d picked up at the mercantile, but standing in the shade with Win was oddly comforting in spite of the shocking kiss they’d shared earlier.
“How is Deil coming along?” she asked.
Win slid his thumbs into his front pants pockets and stood hipshot, with one knee bent. “I’m going to try to forefoot him again tomorrow morning.” He paused and his gaze felt like a caress, sending a shiver down her spine. “I could use your help.”
Cait’s muscles tightened, hoping she had the strength to face the demon again. “I’ll be here.”
With the predatory grace of a wolf, Win stepped in front of her. “Can I count on you?”
Her heartbeat climbed a notch or two, but she met his intense gaze squarely. “Seems to me I should be asking you that question. I wasn’t the one who ran off like some horse thief in the night.”
“I guess I deserved that.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I had my reasons, Cait.”
“You could at least tell me what they were.”
He tipped his head back and stared at the hot blue sky. “It was nothing you did, Cait.” He chuckled softly. “You did everything right. Too damned right.” Win’s steady gaze settled on her. “You were so young. Hell, we were both kids. But I was older and knew better. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you.”
Even after all the heartache he’d caused her, she believed his remorse. He was older than her and had often taken the blame for the mischief they’d gotten into together. She laid her hand on his forearm. The light hairs tickled her palm and his skin’s warmth brought a burst of heat with it. “What happened that night was as much my fault as yours, maybe even more so. I was the one who had to tempt you with that stupid dress.”
“It wasn’t a stupid dress, and it sure as hell more than tempted me.” He chuckled, and creases appeared at the corners of his eyes. “Where did you get it?”
Cait stared at his laugh lines, suddenly faced with the tangible evidence that they were no longer fifteen and seventeen. They’d both grown up, but scars remained.
“It was in my mother’s trunk. Pa never could throw any of her things away.” Cait remembered the one and only time he’d tried to sort through her mother’s belongings. After opening the trunk, he’d quickly closed it and hurried outside. Cait had followed him and stood in the doorway, shocked to hear her big, strong father sobbing in the deepest shadows of the porch.
“Do you still have it?”
Win’s question startled Cait out of the past. “Yes, but that was the only time I wore it.”
“I figured you’d wear it to the town dances and all the boys would line up to dance with you.”
Cait peered into Win’s face, trying to determine if he was teasing or serious. “I never went to any dances.”
“Why?” Win asked, genuinely puzzled.
She shrugged. “I didn’t plan on marrying, so it didn’t make any sense to go.”
“Why?” he repeated.
Becoming annoyed, Cait snapped, “Because.”
Win held up his hands, palms out. “Whoa. Don’t be getting all riled up again. I didn’t mean anything. I’m just trying to figure out why someone as beautiful as you isn’t married yet.”
Beautiful. Cait would’ve given the moon to hear him call her beautiful years ago, but now it brought a strange lump to her throat. She forced a nonchalant shrug. “The ranch kept me so busy I never had time to think about it.” She glanced at the angle of the sun. “I’d best make us something to eat. It’s long past noon.”
She felt Win’s burning gaze on her back as she walked to the cabin, but there was nothing more she owed him. She picked up the box containing flour, sugar, and coffee she’d left on the porch and carried it inside.
As she put away the goods, she allowed her memories free rein. She remembered how she’d had to lie to her father for the first time in her life to hide her humiliation. How she’d cried every night for nearly a year before the pain became tolerable. How the love she’d had for Win had burned away, leaving ashes of hate.
But their kiss in the barn showed that beneath the hate, love’s embers still smoldered.
Cait couldn’t afford to fan those embers back to life. Even if Win still held some affection for her, he would undoubtedly ride away again. And this time, even the embers would become extinguished, leaving nothing but the empty shell of a bitter woman with no hope of a family.
Chapter Five
FOUR NIGHTS LATER, Cait bolted upright in bed. She sat there in the darkness, disoriented, trying to determine what had awakened her. A horse’s scream split the night’s silence and Cait scrambled out from under the muslin sheet and wool blanket. She jerked on her boots and trousers, but didn’t take the time to don a shirt over her gown.
She grabbed the rifle propped beside the bed and dashed out of the cabin. Pausing on the porch, she searched for Deil in his pen and found him looking toward the trees. The shrill cry sounded again. It came from the mares’ corral, the direction Deil faced.
Cait bounded across the moonlit yard, almost colliding with Win when he hopped out of the barn, tugging on a boot.
“What is it?” he demanded.
Cait slowed her pace slightly to answer. “Something’s spooked the mares.” She turned and ran, her heart thrumming wildly.
Cait was barely aware of Win following her, his long legs devouring the distance between them. She angled through the trees, not wasting time by going through the wide opening she normally used. Branches slapped her face and arms.
She stumbled to a halt at the edge of the clearing. Before her lay a network of three corrals that Win and his father had helped build. The first pen housed three mares and their foals. The biggest corral held the rest of the wild horses, and the smallest enclosure was where Cait worked with one mustang at a time. The herd milled about nervously, nickering and kicking at one another. Something had obviously frightened them.
“Do you have trouble with cats around here?” Win’s close voice startled her.
“Not lately,” she replied. “A few years ago two came down from the mountains, but that had been a bad winter. The Duncans and Crowleys lost a few head of livestock, but the mountain lions never came this far south.”
Win grunted and she glanced at him. He was surveying the area, his eyes narrowed and body tense. She noticed he wore his gunbelt around his trim hips, obviously expecting trouble, too.
“What is it?” she asked quietly.
He took a deep breath and his nostrils flared, as if sniffing the air, searching for something that didn’t belong. Instead of answering her, he prowled around the corral, his gaze aimed at the ground.
Cait remained in place, narrowing her eyes as she watched him through the silvery glow of the nearly full moon. He circled the outer perimeter of the pen, his fluid motions and cautious steps giving her an even more powerful impression of a stalking wolf.
He hunkered down, examining something on the ground. “Come here,” he called to Cait.