Branded Hearts. Diana Hall
under the shade of the pines.
Deceitful, conniving, ice water for blood. He knew the type. Wasn’t surprised Cade took a liking to her. Every saloon packed the bar with them. There was nothing demure or soft about Kit. Except for her hair. Like dark cornsilk. His fingers had slid through the strands with a mind of their own, reluctant to leave the satiny touch.
Heat flamed in his groin. Lust didn’t play a part in his plans for the future. A good year, some expansion, then he could propose to Abigail.
Abigail—she’d jump to the wrong conclusion about Kit faster than a jackrabbit headed for the brush. And then there was Sam Benton. Slighting his niece and hiring two half-breeds would not win Garret an introduction and a chance at the cavalry contract.
But if he threw the two off the Rockin’ G, he’d be saving his ranch and losing his brother. He’d deserted his ma. Garret wouldn’t make the same mistake with Cade. The ranch represented Cade’s best hope of amounting to something besides a cardsharp. And to secure the ranch’s future, Garret needed that army deal.
Solving this quandary was about as easy as tying down a bobcat with a piece of string. Near impossible. But not completely out of the question. All Garret needed to do was drive Kit away. Her brother would follow. He would be rid of the Indians without overruling Cade.
Kit O’Shane would leave and leave soon. He made the vow and left the cabin. As he slammed the door, he wished he could shut away the memories sewn into the quilt and his heart as easily.
Kit’s eyelids flew open. Her heart pounded in her chest. A quivery weakness raked her body as she lay on her rickety cot. Another night, the same recurring nightmare.
As she sat upright, her feet collided with the sleeping ranch cur. After nearly a week of sharing quarters, she and Chili had reached an uneasy compromise. She got the bed. The dog retained ownership of the moth-eaten blankets. On the floor.
“Kit?” Hawk paused from coiling his lariat near the window. “I thought you had fallen asleep.”
Each evening, her brother lagged at the barn until all the cowhands had bedded down. A formidable wall of protection against living, breathing men, Hawk couldn’t ward off the horror in her dreams.
For a second, she wished Hawk could take her dreams from her, make her forget the terror she had lived through. But the nightmares helped her focus on her goal. A man’s death. The annihilation of Jando’s evil. She closed her eyes and asked, “Did you find anything today?”
Her brother’s silence answered her question. No. Five days without a sign of the rustlers.
She dislodged her boots from under Chili’s warm body, slipped them on and wove her way through the tack to stand next to her brother. “There’s a few hours before sunset. I think I’ll take a walk down near the river.”
Her brother rose, tight-lipped and scowling, seeing through her white lie. “You walk when the spirits speak. I will go with you.”
“No.” Kit shook her head. “I know you mean well. But I have to learn to not be afraid.”
Her brother’s lips tightened into a firm line. “I failed you in the village and fail you here. Garret Blaine works you like a slave.” Frustration seethed in her brother’s voice. “And I allow it.”
“I allow it,” Kit corrected. “And every chore is worth it if it helps us find Jando.” Shrugging her shoulders, she gave her brother a wry smile. “The Rockin’ G’s not so bad. Food’s good. Accommodations livable. And then there’s Cade.” Humor brought a smile to her lips. “I think he could charm the rattle off a snake if he set his mind to it.”
“He cannot charm his brother.”
“No, he can’t.” She bit her lower lip. If Garret was hard on her, he was twice as severe with Cade. Not once had she heard the older brother praise the younger, or offer a word of encouragement. Then again, Kit had stumbled onto more than one work-time poker game, with the younger Blaine scraping in the ante. “I suppose Cade enjoys our presence. It gives Garret someone else to criticize.”
“You do more than your fair share of work.”
“I get a great deal of satisfaction provoking the elder Blaine.” So far, Kit was the winner in the battle of wills between herself and the rancher. The heady thrill of victory lifted some of her dread.
“This I have noticed.” A mild tone of censure tempered Hawk’s voice. He cuffed her chin with his fist. “Go take your walk. But do not go far.”
“Only to that rock.” She pointed toward a dark finger of granite at the river’s edge. “I’ll be back at sundown.”
Hawk handed her a wool serape as she passed. “Sundown, then I will come for you.” Finality carved his words.
Kit accepted the terms—a solitary constitutional timed by her protective brother. There had been a time when she would have chafed at the limits on her freedom. Now she understood the necessity. Father had been right—the world could be incredibly cruel.
The door creaked as she opened it. Chili pulled himself to his feet and rushed out ahead of her. The old dog took every opportunity to put her in her place. Second. Master and hound had a lot in common. She glimpsed the dog’s tail as he rounded the cabin.
Outside, pale shades of amethyst and turquoise tinted the sky. She rested her elbows on the corral fence and whistled low. The stallion lifted his regal head, sniffed the air and trotted over to her. He nosed her shirt pocket, aware of the sugar cube hidden inside.
“Here you go, big fella.” Kit dug the cube out and held it flat on her palm. While the horse munched contentedly, she admitted, “You know I don’t bring you treats just to drive Garret crazy.”
The horse snorted, not fooled by her entreaty. All right, getting under Garret’s skin was her foremost enjoyment.
He had expected her gone after the first night. One look at her hard at work before sunrise, and the swagger had left his step. And this morning! Oh, if only she could have preserved the rancher’s shocked face. It was worth every aching muscle to see his cocksure grin melt and his eyes glitter with surprise.
Garret Blaine might not be a man to push, but she wasn’t a woman to easily succumb to pressure. She and Hawk would remain on the ranch until they no longer needed a cover. Then she would gladly wave farewell to the scowling rancher.
A refreshing soak while she reveled in her remarkable tenacity with Garret would ease her nerves. She headed for the river, knowing that after a bath she’d sleep well, especially knowing Garret wouldn’t.
Enjoying the coming sunset, Garret watched Chili wind himself into a comfortable position on the porch. A faint line of smoke rose from the bunkhouse chimney. The tinny sound of Vega’s guitar floated in the air along with Cracker’s off-key singing. His wranglers were fixing to bed down, worn out from an honest day’s labor.
A few solitary minutes to collect his thoughts and he’d be ready for some shut-eye himself. If he could get any. Peaceful sleep was a memory. The sound of Kit’s ax chopping wood until the late hours had kept him awake last night. Along with his conscience. A woman, no matter if she dressed in pants and wore a knife the size of his forearm, could take only so much.
An irritated neigh called from the corral. Garret shifted from his seat and craned his neck around the corner. Kit with the stallion again. And not another soul around.
Where the hell was that brother of hers? Come quitting time, Hawk usually stood sentry over Kit, an imposing barrier to any cowboy that tried to saddle up to the girl. A barrier Garret was mighty glad to let stand. He wanted Kit gone, but he didn’t want her hurt.
He