Chapter 17
Twenty minutes later, he stood by the gate, half listening to Charlie tell about how they’d dug the blue out of the muddy creek bottom.
The boy’s words flittered past Ben’s ears.
Instead, his gaze locked onto Cora sashaying back through the tall grass with a cowhand on either side.
At least she clasped her hands in front of her instead of hanging on one of their arms.
Stupid of him to let his temper get the better of him and leave her alone like that.
Surrounded by others and bespeckled with dirt, Goodnight led the blue into the yard, his gaze traveling Cora’s way more than once. The man obviously spent too much time on the trail and not in town, where womenfolk could be found.
Ben strode over to Cora, tipped his slouch hat to the men, and placed her hand on the crook of his arm.
She crinkled her brow but complied.
As they reached the gate area, Gary climbed onto his wagon and puffed out his chest. “Anyone else want a go at the blue before I have the boys give him a good brushing?”
Ben halted. A chance to prove himself. He eyed the animal as Goodnight led it through the gate. The horse shook its head and nickered. Twigs and leaves clung to the animal’s blue-gray coat. Spatterings of mud clung to its legs.
“What are you doing?” Cora tightened her grip on his arm.
Ben stood tall and called out to Gary. “The blue’s tuckered out. You got any others?”
“Ben,” Cora hissed under her breath.
“Well, Mister…?” Gary spit out a chaw.
“McKenzie.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Gary nodded from his perch. “I could round up another bronc if you care to have a go.”
Cora sputtered. “Mr. McKenzie, may I talk with you for a moment?” She yanked on his sleeve, her eyes sparking.
“Excuse me.” Ben clamped his arm to his side and dug his boots into the pebbled ground, forcing Cora to halt.
“Take your time with the little lady.” Gary nudged his hat back. “We’ll put the blue to stall and see what we can round up for you.”
Stiff-backed, Ben followed Cora around the corner of the main house, dragging his heels to temper her giddy-up speed. He stopped in the shade of a pin oak and slipped his arm free of her grip. “You want to talk to me?”
She swung her arms wide. “You can’t ride a bronc.”
His eyes narrowed. “Says who?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Let me worry about that. I can take care of myself.”
“These men have had years of practice.”
“I was in the U.S. Cavalry in case it slipped your mind, Cora.” He bored his gaze into her. She had some nerve. “I might not be a cattle expert, but I know horses.”
“That was before—”
“Before what?” The words struck like a hammer. His pulse throbbed in his temples.
She blinked at him, lips pressed shut. The answer was in her eyes. That same doubt. That same you’re like my father.
“Before prison camp?” He lowered his voice. “Before laudanum?” He practically spit out the word. Did she think him wounded beyond repair?
She glanced away.
That was her answer, all right. Dousing him with the sins of her father again.
“Couldn’t your father even ride a horse?”
“This has nothing to do with my father.” She jabbed a hand to her hip.
He blew out a breath. “Who are you to tell me what to do?” He shoved past her and headed for the corral, his hands clenched at his sides.
She caught up to him, her voice low. “You were sick for weeks.”
He wasn’t back to full strength, not by a long shot. His stomach was a tempest more often than not. But he wasn’t going to stand by the wayside like some invalid. “Mind your own business, Cora.”
“But you are my business.” Each word was emphatic as if she wanted to drill it into him.
“Since when?”
Her gaze shifted to the corner of the house.
Charlie stood there with a deep frown. Had he overheard any of the disagreement?
Digging a hole in the dirt with his toe, the boy glanced between Ben and Cora. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Ben bit off the word and stalked toward the corral.
Charlie caught up to him. “You’re not feeling well?”
Ben jerked to a halt and ground his molars, fighting the urge to glare at the child.
The boy looked up at him with big, rounded eyes. “I don’t want you hurt.” He latched onto Ben’s hand.
Ben groaned. Not him too. Probably Cora’s influence. Well, he’d show them what he was capable of.
He took a step. Charlie stepped with him, holding firm to his hand with a sweaty palm. Ben puffed out his cheeks. How did he end up with a child to look after? One who tagged along like a pup. A pup with a gaping hole in his life. A pup who needed him.
Ben scrubbed a hand over his face. He had no business risking a serious injury without good reason. He had…a family to take care of. Not quite his family. But the boy sure seemed like it. And Cora? What was she? At the moment, more of a pain than anything. But no one he was willing to let go of.
He scuffed his boot against the sand and headed toward the corral, managing to work his hand free of Charlie’s along the way.
Gary stood alongside the gate chuckling as Jones struggled to slip a rope harness over the head of a black mustang. Goodnight leaned across his saddle which he’d thrown over the top railing. Several others stood nearby. All eyes turned toward Ben as he approached.
Ben hooked his thumbs around his suspenders. “Don’t bother with the saddle. I want to see her run. Turn her loose in the corral. I’m in the market to buy a horse. I’ll break her on my own time.”
A chuckle came from one of the gathered cowhands. “Talking about the horse or the woman?”
Ben rested his hand on the gate and admired the mustang. “Good question.”
The scent of roses filled Cora’s nostrils as she waited by the vine-covered trellis at the porch corner.
In the distance, the men talked by the corral, but she hung back close to the main house.
She’d best stay clear of Ben until he settled down.
If only she could have expressed her concern unseen, without having to call him away from the men.
Charlie broke from the group and ran over to her. “Ben decided to not ride the wild horse. He’s going to buy her instead.”
A slow exhale leaked from her lungs. He was going to listen. Thank goodness. She’d let her worry get the best of her, but less than a month ago, he’d struggled for strength to even get out of bed.
“He said I can help with the horse when we get home.” Charlie grinned. “Oh, and Mr. Gary said you’re welcome to help the women folk fix food for the men. There’s going to be a picnic out behind the house.”
So that’s where the other women were. That didn’t mean she belonged there.
Across the yard, Ben strode over to Mr. Goodnight. Finally, he was going to talk to the man. That’s where she should be. “Why don’t you go play, Charlie? I need to help Ben.”
He hopped on one foot. “I’ll see if I can help at the stables. Maybe I’ll meet Tyler, the boy who was afraid to ride the blue roan.”
“That’s fine. Just make sure you come when I call. We can’t stay too late.” She tapped her straw hat farther down on her head and stepped toward the men. Tonight, they’d camp in the open rather than riding through the night. Just her, Charlie, and Ben… Her pulse quickened.
A chipmunk scurried past, cheeks full.
Cora lifted her skirts and stepped around a pile of dried manure.
Goodnight’s voice carried on the breeze, something about horses.
Cora caught up to the two men when they paused in the shade of a post oak tree with wide-reaching branches. Tufts of rich brown hair poked out around Ben’s ears and at the back of his collar, beneath his black slouch hat.
Goodnight unscrewed his canteen. “Afternoon, ma’am.”
She smiled. “Afternoon, Mr. Goodnight.” She touched Ben’s sleeve. His muscles flexed beneath the heavy blue cotton.
No smile lit his face as he turned to her. “Excuse me a moment, Mr. Goodnight. I need a word with Miss Scott.” Ben tapped his fingers to Cora’s elbow and led her away, without bothering to formally introduce her to his companion.
“What’s wrong?” As if she couldn’t guess. His eyes spat fire. She should have listened to her intuition to stay clear of him for a while, but how could she do that when there was business to discuss?
“Nothing.” He hooked his thumbs over his gun belt. “I’m talking with Goodnight like you asked me to. If I have any questions, I’ll find you.”
She lifted her chin. “I don’t need to be told my place.”
“You’re sure good at telling everyone else what to do.”
“I didn’t tell you what—”
“Right.” He snorted.
She’d only been looking out for his safety. “I’m sorry I asked to speak to you in front of the men at the corral.” She crossed her arms. “But I need to be part of your meeting with Goodnight. That’s the whole reason I came.”
He narrowed his eyes. “The night we stood out by the corral talking, you asked me to negotiate for you.”
“But then later, you said I should come too.” She jabbed a hand to her hip.
“Travel with me in case there were questions, not stand over my shoulder monitoring every word.”
“I’m not about to go beautify the picnic table while you men decide the fate of my cattle.”
His voice turned to flint. “You want to negotiate? Go ahead. Leave me out of it.” He pivoted toward the stables, opposite direction of Goodnight.
Cora swung her hands wide. What in the world?
She wasn’t going to stand by and be left out of the decision-making.
He’d pushed for her to come—before she’d intervened and caused him to lose face in front of the other men.
She huffed out a breath. If she joined his discussion with Goodnight after her having interrupted Ben for a second time today, it’d as if she were taking charge.
“Ben?” She hurried after him and grabbed him by the arm. Heat poured through his sleeve.
His eyes sliced into her.
Her hand dropped. If she didn’t remedy this, he might still go off and hop on some insane stallion. “I…” Pulling the words up through her throat to her tongue was like wrenching up a bucket of lead. “I trust you to negotiate for me.”