Courting the Corporal. Heather McCorkle
from behind overly long brown bangs, the man all but commanded her attention. Damn, but he was attractive.
Burying the thought, Catriona cleared her throat. “Well, Corporal Fergusson, will you take on the task?”
“Aye, I’ll do it.”
And upon those four little words, her life was about to change.
Chapter 5
Three days later, as he strode into Mrs. O’Brian’s carriage house and laid eyes upon her, he wanted to eat those words. The woman stood in the aisle cinching up an English saddle onto her tall thoroughbred. In a man’s riding breeches that hugged her shapely hips and long legs, she was a sight to behold, one that had him fearing he may swallow his tongue. He had only ever seen one other woman in breeches and had enjoyed the wicked sight. This second look, at this particular woman dressed in such a manner, nearly undid his control. The morning light played across a dark red plait of thick hair that hung down between her shoulders, reaching almost to where her nicely curved behind disappeared beneath a mid-length wool coat.
Something both within him, and without, stirred at the sight, so much so that he casually closed his coat to hide the effect she had on him. He had promised Sean he would be the epitome of a perfect gentleman, and here he was getting hard at the first sight of her. Reminding himself she was just another high society woman whom he would have to keep alive helped dampen his desire.
“Mrs. O’Brian, that’ll most certainly not do,” he said.
Startling at his voice, she spun toward him. The big brown thoroughbred darted away from her as far as the leads clipped to either side of its halter and then to the opposing walls would allow. Steel clashed against cobblestone in a terrible racket as its shod hooves clattered about. The beast didn’t get far, and thankfully didn’t step on the lady’s feet, but its wide eyes and high head proved it would not settle for a while.
“Case in point.” Fergusson indicated the horse with a nod of his head.
To her credit, Catriona quickly subdued the animal with a few soothing words and a stroke of its neck. “What, my horse? She is a bit spirited, admittedly, but she is fast and reliable, the very best hunter jumper in my stable. And I can ride quite well. You have no cause to worry over that.”
Slowly, so as not to spook the beast again, he approached. Paws slapped on the cobblestones behind him, claws clicking in time to them. He spared a scathing look down at Lincoln’s gray and white head but the pup only seemed to grin up at him. Apparently the “sit, stay” commands still needed work.
“I’ve no doubt you can ride, but mustangs will steal a mare away the first chance they get, leaving you riding with me,” he said.
Heat flushed his face. He hadn’t meant for the words “with me” to come out sounding so husky, but he couldn’t help it, not with her curves looking so tempting in those tight breeches. His traitorous mind dropped the word “with,” giving him an all too intimate picture. For the second time already this morning he was glad for his long coat.
Catriona lifted her chin, her pert little nose cutting the air. “Nonsense. She may be a bit high-spirited, but I can control her quite well, I assure you.”
Unable to resist her magnetism, he took a step closer. It worked both to bring her alluring lilac scent drifting to him, and to bring a glare to her lovely face as she had to crane her neck back to look up at him. He leaned so close their bodies were only inches apart.
“I don’t doubt your powers of control over your animal. ’Tis the mustangs you can’t control. When they see a mare they want, they take her, and there is nothing you can do about it.” With his voice dropped several octaves from repressed desire, the words came out sounding breathy and dirty. The flare of desire in her eyes ensured he didn’t regret them, though.
He fingered the edge of her close-cut riding jacket. “This will not do, either. Such clothing will shred on the trail.” Saints help him, but he was picturing just that.
Huffing in a deliciously cute way, Catriona tugged away from him and tried to pull the edges of the jacket down as if she could make it longer. “Ashlinn suggested the breeches. It seemed a good idea. What do you propose I do? Ride a stallion and dress in leather like a savage?” she called over her shoulder.
Damn if the crotch of his breeches didn’t threaten to give way from the pressure of his erection at the image those words elicited. The sight of her breeches hugging her toned buttocks only made it worse. Turning away, he cleared his throat and wrangled his control.
“The trek is one that takes a special kind of horse. I’ll lend you one of mine. As for the clothing…” He had to pause and steady his voice. “You got the idea half-right with breeches, but I do recommend treated leather, both chaps and coat.”
She spun toward him, eyes wide beneath a furrowed brow, mouth gaping in a most distracting manner. “Leather? In June? I shall melt in the heat.”
He nodded. “Aye, it will feel like it at times. But you won’t catch your death in the driving rain or hail in Nebraska territory, nor the blowing wind of Wyoming territory. When the heat of the Utah territory and the state of Nevada becomes too much you can roll your coat up and strap it on the back of your horse.”
At the mention of each state and territory, her eyes grew wider, as if she hadn’t considered just how much land they would be crossing in such a short time. He couldn’t fault her. The reality of it was daunting.
“An entire continent… Is that why they call the California trail the Elephant? Because it’s so long?” she asked in a bit of a hushed voice.
Having crossed it multiple times, he found it an odd comparison, but not an altogether inaccurate one. “Partly.”
Letting out a long, dramatic sigh, Catriona stroked her mare’s neck. “Well, you’re right about one thing. I shouldn’t expect such a creature to carry me across the wilds of America.”
Not quite sure how to respond without sounding as though he were gloating, he watched in silence as she removed the horse’s tack and placed it back into a room nearby. The view of her coming and going was well worth not getting in a jibe. When finished, she unclipped the horse from the leads and took it back into a large stall.
“Sorry, girl. You shall have to come along in a few months with my other belongings,” she quietly told the animal.
Head held high, she strode back out into the aisle and placed her hands on her nicely shaped hips, fixing him with a hard look. “We’ll have to stop at a leather shop along the way. I do not own any such garments. Let’s see this horse you would have me ride.”
With a nod that made his chin-length brown hair sweep down and cover his face, he grinned. Taking the lead, he walked toward the back of the stables where he stalled his horses.
“Oh, well hello there. I didn’t see you come in.” Catriona’s voice had taken on a gentle tone that struck an entirely different chord in him. “I’m sorry, I did not bring along any treats for you today.”
Both her tone and words told him she had discovered Lincoln. One word in particular struck curiosity into him. He looked back to where she crouched beside his pup, scratching behind its floppy gray ears. “Today?” he asked.
Face soft with a look of joy and affection, she resembled something out of tales of the fae his mum used to tell him. It almost pained him that such a look was cast on the pup and not him. But he knew better. Truly, it was an arrow best dodged, for the affections of such a woman led nowhere good.
When she finally turned her gaze to him, it was guarded, as was her tone. “I have brought Sean’s pup treats since their arrival here. I shall miss this little fellow. My late husband never much cared for dogs, but I adore them.” The last sentence faded almost to a whisper as she rose and they continued walking.
The pain in her voice stung him, especially knowing he had brought up the memory that put it there. He almost made a comment about the kind of men who didn’t