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Rebel Outlaw. Carol Arens
Читать онлайн.Название Rebel Outlaw
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Автор произведения Carol Arens
Жанр Вестерны
Издательство HarperCollins
Too bad he couldn’t tell him that a dozen horses, the parents of many to come, were waiting for him at a ranch only a day’s ride away. He would bring them home in plenty of time to settle in before the first snowfall of the year.
He only had a week to get the barn ready for them. It would be a challenge, but one he had never really hoped to have. If it hadn’t been for William, he would still be sweating for the railroad with only the next payday to look forward to.
A side door of the barn opened then closed. The second reason he hadn’t slept last night was now stepping out into the dim light of dawn.
Holly Jane lifted her face to the morning breeze. Her chest rose and fell with the deep breath she took.
Because of her, he hadn’t wanted to doze. Each time he closed his eyes he dreamed of her plush little body wriggling in his arms and the sweet brown gaze of a virgin blinking at him with her first stirring of sexual interest. He’d been around women often enough to know when this was the case.
The trouble was, his interest had stirred right back. He’d bet the farm that William hadn’t intended him to seduce his granddaughter.
Apparently, Holly Jane hadn’t noticed him walking toward the barn. She reached down and patted Lulu on the head, then turned and took the path that led to the bridge, then the lane that went to Friendship Springs.
It took some effort not to laugh and alert her of his presence, but hell and damn, the pig wore a bow of the same blue dotted fabric as Holly Jane’s dress. The bow bounced in the piggy ear in time with the sway of Holly Jane’s skirt.
Since Holly Jane didn’t see him watching, he looked his fill. She wore her hair loose this morning; it shivered over her back, catching the first rays of sunshine.
A raccoon rustled out of the bushes and waddled up to her. She patted its head. Then the pig touched noses with the critter.
“What the hell, Bo Peep?” he murmured. He’d never seen anything like that.
He shook his head. Maybe when the time came, he wouldn’t have to go through the sweat of rounding up his herd, he’d just ask Holly Jane to give them a whistle.
He swung the big barn door open wide then stepped inside. Sparkling dust motes chased each other in the dawn light that began to peek through the wood slats.
Five stalls lined one wall, and he would add two more to the wall opposite. He meant to have his mares deliver in the safety of the barn rather than on the open land.
A flock of fat hens pecked at seed in a dim corner. Holly Jane must have fed them before she went to work at The Sweet Treat.
Smack in the center of the flock was Sunday dinner. He could nearly taste the crunch of a fried wing right now.
With more work to be done than time to do it, Colt set himself to the task of making the barn his own.
In no time, it seemed, Aunt Tillie came by to bring him the noon meal.
He sat beside her on a bale of hay and gobbled down a hunk of bread with blueberry jam spread all over it.
“How’s Grannie Rose this morning?” he mumbled around the bite of crust.
“Mind your manners, boy.” Aunt Tillie slapped his wrist.
He grinned at her and winked. He didn’t ordinarily eat with his mouth full of food, but his aunt needed someone to fuss over.
“Considering she saw an alligator in the flower garden this morning, she’s doing well.”
“Is she getting worse, do you think?” It hurt, watching his grandmother’s mind falter.
“Sometimes, maybe. Other times she’s as sharp as the both of us combined. She still understands when I tell her that the unreasonable things she sees are in her mind...and the main thing is, Colt, she’s happy.”
“What about you? Will you be happy here?”
She didn’t speak for a minute. She sighed then smiled at him.
“Thank you for bringing us here. It’s paradise compared to the viper pit you took us out of.”
“Too bad Holly Jane had to lose the place for us to get it.” He did feel bad about that.
“Your grandmother heard you last night when she got out of bed to use the chamber pot,” Aunt Tillie arched a brow at him. “Once you marry the child, she’ll feel at home again.”
“I ain’t getting roped and tied,” he said between bites of an apple. “Especially to Little Bo Peep.”
“Bo Peep, is it? You seem defensive, Colt. You always call people names when you want some distance... Rose said you kidnapped her according to the Travers way... You said those very words.”
“It was late, and she wasn’t kidnapped. I just brought her in from the cold so her granddaddy won’t haunt me.”
His aunt laughed. She stood, kissed the top of his dusty hair and walked out of the barn.
He wasn’t comfortable with the way she kept on laughing all the way out into the warm afternoon.
He set to work, rucking out stalls and repairing broken boards. Working up a good sweat ought to get his mind off matchmaking old ladies and back where it belonged, ankle-deep in straw and dried-out manure.
* * *
It had been six days since the Travers family had taken over Holly Jane’s home and, she had to admit, the world had not ended. In some ways life had improved.
For instance, because Colt had spread the word that the ranch belonged to him, she was able to sit beside the spring in Town Square without a single suitor pressing his suit.
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