Safe in His Arms

TWO





Several shacks were scattered round the small clearing where Charlie Cutler poked at the fire, but most of them were empty at this time of day. The gang had scattered to various perches to watch for the posse. Sparks flared into the air and a bit of ash floated aimlessly in the wind. He’d been like that ash with no purpose. But no more. He finally belonged.

He heard a step behind him and turned to see Golda Munster coming toward him. She had turned every head in camp, and no wonder. Charlie had never seen skin so fair and smooth or lips so full and red. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, and neither could the other men. She was ten years older than he was, but he didn’t care. Her silky blond hair and big blue eyes mesmerized him.

She lifted her blue skirt clear of the mud puddles. A scowl marred her beautiful face. She scowled more often than not. About the only time Charlie had seen her smile was when she was flirting with someone, but it only added to his fascination. Probably most of the gang longed to bring a smile to her face, to see her white teeth gleaming behind painted red lips.

She settled on a log one of the men had dragged close to the fire. The hem of her skirt was thick with red dirt. “Anything to eat?”

He grabbed a rag and lifted the skillet from the fire. “Got some flapjacks.”

She grimaced. “I’m tired of such paltry fare. I’d love a thick beefsteak or poached fish. Just because we’re in camp doesn’t mean we shouldn’t fill our bellies with decent food. I was at the mercantile before the bank robbery, and things were pretty plain there too. Typical of a wide spot in the road like this.” Lifting the lid, she sniffed at the aroma, then wrinkled her nose again. “Who made these?”

“Your brother.”

She shrugged and grabbed a tin plate, then forked a flapjack onto it. Charlie watched her take dainty bites. He could watch her for hours, her movements, her expressions. She always left him tongue-tied, but he was here because of her.

“I remember the first time I ever saw you,” he blurted out. His face burned when she lifted a brow and smiled. “I mean, who wouldn’t. You sauntered onto the porch looking for Daniel, and I told Pa you were the prettiest thing to ever wear a boot. You and your family had just moved in down the road. I was about twelve, I think.”

Her small white teeth gleamed as she leaned forward. “Do tell me more, Charlie.” Her sly expression said she knew she was fascinating.

“You never noticed me, since I was a kid, but I’m grown now. I’m a better man than Daniel. And I’d never leave you like he did. I’d follow you anywhere, Golda.”

She didn’t need to know he had nothing at home to draw him back, not like Daniel. Once Mama was gone, there was nothing holding him in that lonely mansion where he’d been nothing more than a lackey to a demanding father.

Golda sighed, clearly bored. “I saw your brother today.”

He straightened. “Where?”

“In town. He about had a conniption that we hit the bank before he got set up.”

Charlie leaped to his feet. “He’s rejoined the gang? You’re joshing me.”

Daniel had disappeared for over a year, and Charlie hadn’t heard from him. Charlie assumed something had happened with Golda, and Daniel had gone slinking back to Austin to their father. Otherwise, Daniel wouldn’t have left her.

“Of course he has. He can’t stay away from me.”

If his brother were here, Charlie would have leaped on him and pummeled him. This was his place now. Daniel had no right to come back here. It was all Charlie could do to stand there with his plate in his hands.

Golda finished her meal and dropped the plate onto the ground. “I thought I heard a ruckus out here earlier.”

Those big blue eyes on him drove all thought from Charlie’s head, and he struggled to remember the fracas. “You did. Hugh rode in to tell us the posse had all the main roads covered. We’re safe here, though. It’s pretty hidden.”

She rose and touched his shoulder as she sauntered back to the cabin and went inside. Charlie’s shoulders sagged. She was always doing that. Small pats and caresses that kept him from leaving even though he knew he had no future with her. It was as if she could read his mind.

A horse neighed nearby and he glanced to the grove of trees to his right. Sunlight hit the clearing, and Richard dismounted from his horse.

Richard tipped his hat back with a thick forefinger, revealing a thick thatch of gray hair. “You hear how much the haul was today?”

“Not enough. Frank was pretty grim. Where were you?”

Richard shrugged. “Frank got a little high on his horse and moved before I arrived. Saw your brother, though, and got a message for you.”

“There’s nothing Daniel has to say that I want to hear.” Charlie started back to the campfire, but Richard grabbed his arm.

“You’re acting like a fool,” the older man said, curling his lip. “Now shut up and listen. Daniel wants to meet you before he rejoins the gang.”

“No.” Charlie jerked his arm away, but Richard blocked his path. “I’m not a kid he can order around. I make my own decisions.”

“Don’t get all huffy. He just wants to talk.”

Charlie gritted his teeth. “There’s nothing he can say that I haven’t already heard.” Richard didn’t reply, so Charlie shrugged, an idea beginning to form. “I’ll see him, I guess. When and where?”

“Friday night. At the river ford.”

“I’ll be there. What are you going to do? Does Frank know you’re here?”

“Not yet. I’m going to see him now.” Richard’s sharp gaze pierced him.

“He’s liable to shoot you for not showing up when you were supposed to.”

“And I suppose you’d be glad of it? It would leave the way clear for you with Golda.”

Richard was Golda’s second choice, the man she flirted with when Daniel wasn’t around. Charlie looked down. “I don’t want you hurt. When are you going to see Frank?”

“Tonight. I’ll be back later.”

“What about Daniel? When’s he going to show his face? I think Frank’s been watching to make sure neither of you double-cross him.”

“I’ll let him tell you about his plans when you meet him in two days. I’m just the messenger.”

Richard mounted his horse and wheeled away. Maybe Charlie would just settle Daniel’s hash when he saw him. Get him out of his hair once and for all. As Charlie went around the bend of the trail, the door to the cabin opened and Golda stepped back outside. She beckoned to him and he was glad to answer.




SHE WAS A mighty prickly woman, this Margaret O’Brien. Daniel glanced at her from the corner of his eye, then stared straight ahead. Fine figure of a woman, though. She’d give some lucky man sons and daughters worth having if they had her fire and determination. Her red hair and green eyes betrayed her spirit and passion for life. She had no use for him, though, and Daniel couldn’t say he blamed her. He wouldn’t cotton to someone waltzing in and taking over a job he had all picked out for himself either.

But he had a purpose for being here, and not even a woman like the rancher’s daughter would distract him from it. His mission was too important. He’d just been glad Charlie wasn’t among the robbers who rushed past him.

Paddy O’Brien pointed out the lane to the ranch, and Daniel turned the horses down it. From here the rolling meadows of Triple T Ranch spread before him. Lush grass for the cattle intermingled with rugged red buttes under the blue skies. The beauty of the place tugged at Daniel’s heart, almost as though he were coming home, although that was ridiculous. He’d never been in this part of Texas. But this Red River Valley was beautiful, no doubt about that. He thought he’d heard a song about it once, but he couldn’t remember the words.

The ranch house and outbuildings came into view. A low, stuccoed home crouched beneath two cottonwood trees. Several barns and corrals surrounded the home, and he could see herds of longhorns grazing on the hills around the ranch.

“Mighty pretty place,” he told Paddy.

Paddy was a big man, though age had stooped his shoulders and shriveled his skin, and he lifted his head high, clearly pleased by the compliment to his life’s work. And rightly so. The Triple T spread out before them in all its bustling glory.

Daniel cast another glance at Margaret. A smattering of freckles shimmered on her nose, and her chiseled face with its high cheekbones gave her a regal bearing as she glanced around the Triple T. He didn’t doubt she had helped make the ranch a success and had earned that look of proud ownership.

Her hair was bound in a thick red braid nearly as big around as her wrist. What would it look like released from the confines of the braid, gleaming in the sunshine? Like red fire, most likely. He dragged his thoughts away from the intriguing woman and pulled the team to a halt. His job didn’t entail casting longing eyes at Margaret O’Brien.

“Margaret, show Daniel to his quarters,” Paddy said.

Margaret didn’t look at him. She jabbed a finger at the bunkhouse behind the house. “It’s in there.”

“Margaret,” her father said in a warning tone.

Her lips compressed, Margaret wheeled around, and her braid flipped Daniel in the face. Her hair left the faint scent of mint in its wake. He suppressed a grin as he followed her across the yard. Her stiff back proclaimed her outrage, but she didn’t say anything. Daniel was sorry for that. He would have liked to listen to her voice some more. Low and throaty. It reminded him of wind in the trees back home.

She shoved open the door to the bunkhouse and stepped inside. Daniel followed her. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust from the bright sunshine to the dim coolness of the room. The large room was utilitarian with bunks along the walls. The floor was rough wood and scratched from years of boot heels. Dishes overflowed the dry sink. He’d been in many rooms like this one.

Margaret stepped to a door on the left side and opened it. “This is the foreman’s room. It’s got a private entrance off the back of the bunkhouse to the privy.”

He peered past her at the small room, furnished with a metal cot with a sagging mattress, one battered chair, and a dresser that held a porcelain pitcher and bowl. “Looks comfortable.” He dropped his satchel on the floor and shut the door behind him.

She backed away from him, but Daniel reached out and held her arm. “I’m not a threat to you, Margaret.”

She jerked her arm from his grip. “It’s Miss O’Brien.”

He pocketed his hands and nodded. “Miss O’Brien, then. From what I can see, this is a pretty big spread and you can use the help. I’m not sure how I managed to get your back up, but can we call a truce?”

Color bloomed along her cheeks, and she narrowed her eyes. “I would have thought my father would have taken one look at you and realized the person he needed to be wary of was you. You may have fooled my father, Mr. Cutler, but you didn’t fool me for a minute.”

“What burr do you have under your saddle about me? You don’t know me yet.”

She waved in his direction. “Look at you, with your fancy pants and shirt. No self-respecting foreman would think of wearing a shirt like that. The thorns and briars would puncture your skin right through those clothes. And those boots look like you just bought them before you boarded the stagecoach. You’re no brushpopper, that’s for sure.”

Daniel glanced down. She wasn’t far wrong. He had bought them just for this job. “So you don’t like my new duds? I’d of thought a pretty women like you would be agreeable to a man getting gussied up for a new job.”

Astute woman. He’d have to be on his guard that she didn’t figure out why he was here. He’d grown up in Austin and had learned finer ways. It astonished him that she’d seen a polish he thought the gang had knocked off him.

She leaned closer. “Your manner is way too cocky and your hair is much too stylish for ranch work. In short, Mr. Cutler, you don’t belong here. And I don’t want my pa to get dependent on a city man like you. You’ll only let us down when the going gets tough.”

She would make a good detective. Daniel reached out and touched her cheek. She flinched but held her ground. He grinned at her glare.

“You’ll kindly keep your hands to yourself!” She wheeled around to leave but Daniel caught her in his arms.

She stared up at him, her eyes wide with alarm. Her skin was warm as sunshine and smelled spicy, as though she’d rubbed something on it. The moment stretched out and he saw an answering flicker of awareness in her eyes. She caught her breath and struggled to get away.

He instantly released her and she scrambled back. Her green eyes snapped with anger. She drew back her hand to slap him, and he caught the blow in midair. But he wasn’t expecting an attack from another quarter. Margaret kicked him in the shin, and he bent over double with the pain.

“Yee-ouch.” He rubbed his shin. “It was only a touch, Miss O’Brien, not an attack on your person.”

Her chest heaved and her eyes glimmered. “You are despicable! Are you in the habit of accosting women who find you repugnant? I am a believer, Mr. Cutler, a Christian woman. My—my caresses will be saved for the man who will one day respect me enough to marry me. They are not to be bandied about like currency on the open market.”

Daniel felt like a heel when he saw tears sparkling on her lashes. And for the first time in his life, he thought that marriage might not be such a bad proposition with the right wife. Someone with fire and passion like Margaret O’Brien.

He reached toward her to reassure her that his intentions were honorable, but she flinched and ran from the bunkhouse. Great. She would probably tell her father that he’d manhandled her, and he would lose his job before it started. He squared his shoulders. He had to stop that from happening. Too much depended on this central location.

He rushed after her, but her tall form wasn’t running for the safety of the house and her father. She was hurrying toward an orchard grove behind the barn. She disappeared into the trees and he followed. He found her facedown on the grass, her shoulders heaving with her sobs.

Daniel knelt beside her and hesitantly touched her shoulder. She buried her head farther into her arms. “Go away.”

He drew his hand away. “I’m sorry, Miss O’Brien. I was way out of line.” He waited to see if she would respond to his gentle tone.

She gulped and scrubbed at her face. “Go away,” she said again. This time her voice was resigned and full of sadness.

Daniel didn’t understand why one touch should have produced this reaction. He reached to pat her shoulder, but she quickly sat up and shrugged away his hand.

“Don’t touch me.” Her face was red and blotchy from weeping.

Daniel fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. “I’m sorry, Miss O’Brien. Truly. I don’t know what got into me. All I can say is you’re a beautiful woman, and I’ve wanted to touch you from the first minute I laid eyes on you. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

The color ran from her face, and she stared at him as though he’d just grown horns. “Don’t mock me, Mr. Cutler,” she whispered.

He frowned at her. “I wasn’t mocking you. And if no one has ever told you that you’re beautiful, then I have to wonder about the men in this valley.” He rose and brushed the twigs from his trousers. “But believe me, I would rather hug a polecat than you after that display of female hysteria. You can be sure it won’t happen again.”

The color came back into her pale face and she rose to face him. “It certainly won’t happen again. I understand now the type of man you are, and I won’t let my guard down again.”

“I suppose you’ll go running to your father. You’re not woman enough to face your problems on your own.”

Her eyes flashed and she tilted her chin. “If I were going to tattle to my father, I would have gone to him at once. You’re not a problem, Mr. Cutler. You’re no more important than a rogue bull that has to be put down. I can handle you with one arm behind my back.”

For one crazy moment, Daniel was tempted to show her that he wasn’t to be underestimated, but sense reasserted itself and he politely stepped away from her. “We shall see, Miss O’Brien, we shall see.”

He felt a stab of satisfaction at the way her cheeks colored and her eyes darkened with trepidation. Her emotions showed so readily in her face. She had translucent skin that colored easily, and it would be tempting to spend his time provoking a reaction out of her. She was a match for him in more ways than one.