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Again, she whispered, “You don’t have to do this.”
But Brand never noticed.
Every eye was on that wild stallion. Every man held his breath.
“Throw on a saddle if you can.” Brand’s voice dared them to fail.
It took an additional two men to get a saddle blanket on the horse and then the saddle. One of them came away limping after a kick from the angry animal.
“Hold him while I get seated.” Brand spoke calmly, as if the only uncertainty was the ability of the struggling cowboys to do so.
Sybil’s chest hurt from holding her breath as she watched him gingerly arrange himself in the saddle.
“Let him go.”
The cowboys released their ropes and raced away, throwing themselves over the fence, then scrambling around to watch the show.
Sybil could not tear her gaze from the big man on the horse. He sat poised and ready. At first the horse simply stood quivering, then it erupted into frenzied movement. It seemed to jerk every which way at the same time. She’d watched Brand buck out a number of horses over the past two days, but nothing like this. Hooves flying toward the sky. Back twisting two different directions at the same time. Head down. Snorting. Blowing. But Brand clung to the gyrating animal.
“He’s good,” said the cowboy on Sybil’s right.
“He ain’t done yet,” Cal answered, disappointment in his tone.
Then the horse stopped. It stood there quivering.
A murmur of approval circled the crowd.
“He did it,” Sybil said.
“Don’t think so, not yet.”
And then the animal turned and tried to bite its rider. As Brand kicked away from the teeth, the horse suddenly started to buck again.
Brand fought to stay in the saddle.
The horse ran for the fence, ramming him against the boards.
Several cowboys groaned. “That’s got to hurt,” said one. “Be a wonder if his leg ain’t broke.”
The horse stampeded along the fence, several times banging Brand’s leg into the boards. It bucked. It snorted.
Still he stayed on board.
And Sybil’s heart swelled with pride in the man’s accomplishments. Brand was far more than a campfire legend. He was the real deal. He could ride. He was a man who stuck to his decisions.
Now, where did that last thought come from? She knew nothing of his actions outside this corral.
And the feel of his arms about you as he swept you off your feet.
Nonsense. It didn’t mean that much. Just that he’d saved her life and now she felt a special bond, as if she mattered to him.
Huh. I wonder if he even remembers your name.
She silenced the inner voice.
The animal trying to toss Brand to the ground finally wearied and stopped bucking.
“I’d say his reputation is well earned,” Sybil said, loudly enough for several of the cowboys to hear. This story would be the best one she’d ever written.
Never once did he reveal a hint of fear as he swung into the saddle. Those watching caught a collective breath and held it, wondering who would win this contest between man and beast.
Two men jumped forward and took the horse.
Brand slipped off, leaning against the fence.
The cowboys clapped and cheered as he limped away, none louder than Sybil. Without turning, Brand waved his hand in acknowledgment. “Tell the boss he knows where to find me.” He made his way across the yard and into the trees toward his campsite.
Sybil watched him leave. He had been hurt, though he hid it admirably.
At that moment, Eddie rode into the midst of the men. “I didn’t find any bull needing help.”
“Must have been mistaken,” Cal murmured.
Eddie glanced around the group, studied the horse now turned into the bigger corral. Several of the men tried to slip away unnoticed. “Wait up.”
They ground to a halt.
“Anyone care to tell me what’s going on?” Eddie leaned over the saddle horn, looking casual and relaxed. But Sybil certainly wasn’t fooled by his posture, and she guessed from the shuffling of booted feet that the cowboys weren’t, either.
Slim sat on a horse at the boss’s side and looked about ready to give them all a good chewing out.
Eddie’s gaze settled on Cal. “You sent me on a wild-goose chase. I’d like to know why. And why is that stallion in the corrals? Haven’t I told you all to leave him alone? He’s a man killer.”
Eddie’s answer confirmed her suspicion that the cowboys were all involved in this potentially dangerous challenge. She glanced to where she’d last seen Brand. How badly had he been hurt?
Cal stepped forward. “We just wanted to see how good a rider he was. After all,” he said, growing bold, “you can’t just take his word for it.”
Eddie studied Cal long enough that the younger man squirmed. “Did he ride the stallion?”
“To a standstill,” one of the others answered, when Cal hesitated.
“Then he deserves his reputation.”
A murmur of agreement came from the group.
Eddie continued to study Cal. “You can shovel manure for the next month. With no help.”
Without another word, the boss reined away and rode to the big house.
Sybil hid a grin at the disgruntled look on Cal’s face.
Not even a wicked man killer of a horse could unseat this big, bold bronc buster. The cowboy rode the rank horse to a standstill...
Her gaze found the path where Brand had disappeared. He’d done his best to hide his pain, but she knew he’d been hurt. Did anyone care?
* * *
Brand waited at the campfire for Eddie to appear with the money he’d earned. Then he’d be on his way.
He sucked in a deep blast of air and rubbed his leg. That mean sucker of a horse had had murder in mind. Seeing as he hadn’t succeeded in bucking Brand off so he could trample him, he’d meant to try and knock him off. Had banged his leg good and hard against the fence. It hurt some, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t live with.
He gingerly stretched out his leg and leaned back, smiling up at the brilliant sky. He kind of enjoyed the way Sybil had watched him and clapped when he rode the horse. He snorted and pulled his hat over his eyes. No point in looking at blue skies and dreaming of possibilities.
He could never be anything more than Brand, the bronc buster.
Enough staring into nothing. Time to get something to eat. From his meager supplies he chose a can of beans and opened it. Opened a second can for Dawg.
He downed the beans cold, chasing them with hot coffee.
His thoughts wandered again to a golden gal whose blue eyes smiled so gently at him he could almost believe she cared. But how could she? She knew nothing of him. Certainly not who he really was. A Duggan. Part of an outlaw family. Even if for some reason he stayed, he could never tell her, and lose the memory of that smile.
What would it be like to return home every day to a smiling welcome like that?
Brand Duggan would never know.
His leg pained him. It wasn’t broken, but bruised enough to remind him with every move that a horse had almost got the better of him. But the pain paled in light of a deeper pain that never left. Oh, sure, he sometimes managed to ignore it, push it away, pretend it didn’t exist, but all his efforts were but a thin scab that could be easily dislodged.
Something about Sybil had done more than dislodge it. Her gentle manner had scrapped away the protective layer, exposing the rawness beneath.
So many things contributed to the wound. Too many to count. Besides, what was the point?
He missed Ma. He missed conversations. Heart-to-heart talks. Teasing and laughing. He missed a warm bed and a hot meal at the end of the day. He missed having a home.
Home. The word reverberated through his head, his heart and his soul. A trumpet sound of despair that he couldn’t deny.
Something Ma had often said to him sprang into his mind. God will always be with us. Always guide us to a safe place. Always. We have to trust Him.
He’d long ago dismissed the words. He didn’t see how God being with them had made any difference. Pa always ended up finding them. Yes, Ma and Brand had always slipped away, hoping to find a place where no one knew who they were. At first, Ma had urged Brand along, helping him hide, taking care of finding a place for them. Then Brand had needed no more urging. He’d helped Ma carry their meager possessions. Had sometimes been the one to find them a safe place. He’d often been the first one to hear rumors of robberies, and know Pa and Cyrus were close by and it was time to move on.
Just as he must leave here to stay ahead of the Duggan gang. But what would happen if he stayed a few more days? Not with any idea of putting down roots. No. He knew better than that. Sooner or later, Pa and Cyrus would show up.
But a few hours. A few days. What could it hurt? He wouldn’t do anything rash, like attempt to court Sybil, simply enjoy a moment of her company here and there. Shoot, he’d be content to watch her from a distance. Then he’d leave, with his heart full of memories to last him a lifetime.
Memories. Nothing but memories. The word screamed through his brain, tearing a wide, aching, oozing path.
“Isn’t like I have any reason to stay,” he muttered to Dawg, who replied with a yawn. “Don’t see anyone throwing out the welcome mat.”
Brand rubbed his aching leg. At least this pain would abate and he’d soon forget it. Unlike the emotional pain.
Dawg bolted to his feet, hackles up, growling.
“I hear it.” Hoofbeats thudded. Someone approaching the camp. Brand’s skin prickled as it always did when he knew someone watched him. His hand crept toward his gun belt and rested on the grip of his pistol. Had his identity been discovered? Did someone seek the five-hundred-dollar reward for the capture, dead or alive, of any of the Duggan gang?
Friend or foe. He’d give his last nickel to never again have to wonder which it was every time a stranger approached. At least he didn’t have to worry about whether or not he could trust a friend. He hadn’t allowed himself one in a very long time.
Eddie rode into sight and air eased from Brand’s lungs.
He pushed to his feet. His leg protested the change in position, but he straightened it and waited as the rancher swung from his horse.
He’d get his wages and be on his way. And if his insides twisted at the thought, he wouldn’t acknowledge it. Nope. He’d move on. Forget those he left.
This time would prove more challenging than simply waving goodbye to a bunch of cowboys who spoke no more words than necessary, and would forget him as quickly as he forgot them. This time he would turn his back on a pretty young lady who had momentarily—and not of her choosing—rested in his arms.
Eddie stood before him, a grin on his face. “Got some good news for you.”
Brand nodded. Only good news he could think of was the Duggan gang had disappeared into Mexico. As if it would really make a difference.
“I ran into Sam Stone today.”
“Uh-huh.” Whoever Sam Stone was.
“He runs the OK Ranch to the north of us.”
“Oh, yeah.” Still didn’t make any difference to Brand. “I finished breaking the horses. Some will need a bit more handling, but they’re all fit to ride. So I’ll be moving on.”
“Wait until you hear what I have to offer.”
He waited. As if he had any choice. Eddie seemed set to drag his news out as long as possible.
“Sam sold me a herd of wild horses. Said he didn’t have time or a man to deal with them.” The rancher rolled back on his heels, as pleased with his announcement as any man Brand had seen. “I want you to stay on and break them for me.”
Brand’s shoulders jerked up. His spine pressed against his skin. Stay? Wasn’t it exactly what he’d wanted? A few more days of watching Sybil. Of storing up memories. His muscles tensed at the risks it involved.
How long had it been since he’d last seen Pa and Cyrus? Longer than usual. Come to think of it, he hadn’t heard mention of the Duggan gang since he’d crossed the border into Canada.
A grin crept around his heart and eased toward his mouth. Could it be that the Duggan gang didn’t care to meet up with the Mounties? No doubt they’d heard the tales of how tenacious the mounted police were. How they always got their man. The grin grabbed his mouth and Brand allowed his lips to curl just a little. Maybe he could be free of them if he stayed in Canada. Even as he allowed the hope, he knew he couldn’t trust it. At least not for long.
“I could stay around a few more days, I guess.” His casual words disguised his eagerness.
“You’re welcome to bunk with the others and eat at the cookhouse. Cookie makes a fine meal.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He’d breathed in the rich aromas every day from the cookhouse’s open windows. “But Dawg here ain’t very friendly.”
Right on cue, Dawg snarled at Eddie.
“He sure isn’t. I wouldn’t tolerate him biting anyone at the ranch.”
“Never known him to bite. Mostly he threatens.” Brand must make sure Eddie didn’t encourage anyone to challenge Dawg. “Figure he’d only bite if he thought someone meant to harm me.”
