“I was pretty.” Alice lifted a hand to her cheek. “I was really pretty. He took my pretty away. I have some back. I have a little back. I like my hair. I like the red vest to wear, to borrow. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Let’s go show off to Clementine.”
Bodine held out a hand, and though she ducked her head, Alice put hers in it.
Halfway down the stairs, Bodine heard her mother’s voice. So did Alice, as Alice’s hand tightened into a vise on hers.
“I’m going to take this tea up, and have a nap,” Maureen said. “I may go back after dinner, just to help Jessie with this event, but…”
Still pouring the tea, Maureen froze as Bodine led Alice into the kitchen. The hot water spilled over the rim of the cup before Clementine caught it, took the pot.
“Alice.” Tears springing to her eyes, Maureen pressed both hands to her mouth. “Alice. Alice.”
She rushed forward, and though Alice jerked back, went stiff, kept coming until she’d caught Alice in her arms. “Oh, Alice.”
“I didn’t want it. Bodine cut it. A sick girl can have it.”
“Oh, Alice.” Drawing back, Maureen fluffed her fingers through the red hair Bodine had managed to style into an uneven, amateur bob. “I love it. Absolutely love it. I love you.”
She clutched Alice to her again, held out a hand for Bodine’s. She kissed her daughter’s hand, closed her eyes. And rocked her sister where they stood.
*
As Jessica’s event included trail rides, pony rides, cattle drives, and lessons, Callen put in some overtime. He’d need to be back at it by sunrise, but for now he could enjoy an easy ride home.
He hoped he’d find Bodine on the other end of the ride, maybe get her to sit out with him, have a beer, watch the sunset.
And maybe if their schedules meshed up over the next few days, he could take her out to a fancy dinner.
He couldn’t figure why he wanted to. He’d never been one for fancy dinners. But he wanted to try one with her, see how it set.
He wanted her back in his bed again, and for more than sleep.
He just wanted her, and it was time to admit it.
Everything about her fit, so why make it less than it was?
He hadn’t come back for a woman, but he’d found the one he wanted, the one he could see building a life with.
Maybe she wasn’t there yet, but he didn’t think she lagged far behind him. The puzzle of the moment was: Did he wait for her to catch up, or did he give her a push?
Something to consider.
“Doesn’t get much better than this.” Leaning forward, he rubbed Sundown’s neck. “Does it, boy? Cool evening coming in after a warm day. Wildflowers popping. Deer over there, see ’em? Yeah, you see them. Losing their winter coats. Fields are greening up some. We’ll be bringing some of the horses down to that pasture there at sunup. Still snow on the peaks there, but that just makes the sky bluer.”
He pulled his horse up to enjoy the moment, watched the white tails of the deer bob across the near field. When he actively thought of dismounting, picking some of the wildflowers for Bodine, he embarrassed himself.
A man could take things too far.
He walked the horse around a slight curve. “Let’s stretch those legs out.”
He’d no more than given the signal and Sundown was bounding forward. He felt the sting low on his calf, heard the sharp snap of a bullet. Sundown let out a cry of pain, stumbled.
Instinct took over. “Go!”
He felt his horse labor, but they were in the open, so he pushed until he could pull up again where the ground rose, where a cabin sat, where trees provided some cover.
He leaped off, didn’t spare a curse for the shock of pain in his leg. Not when he saw the blood seeping low on Sundown’s belly.
“Easy, easy, easy.” Dragging off his bandanna, he pressed it to the wound. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”
He heard the sound of an engine, the echo and roar, yanked out his phone as he scanned the trees, the ridge. As he vowed vengeance on whoever hurt his horse.
*
Bodine stepped outside hoping Callen had gotten back. She imagined what a kick he’d get out of her cutting Alice’s hair, giving her a makeover. She’d like to sit out in the cool, watch the sunset, and tell him about her day, hear about his.
She liked the idea of knowing she could, knowing they might wander in sometime after dusk and make good use of his bed.
Thinking about that, smiling about that, she turned sharply when she heard Chase give a shout and bolt out of the house.
Her first thought was Alice, but her father ran out, too, and Rory. And every damn body.
“What is it? What happened?”
“Somebody took a shot at Callen, hit his horse. He’s a mile down on Black Angus Road.”
Chase kept running toward the horse trailer. Rory streaked into the stables. Equine first-aid kit, Bodine thought as she charged after him. She grabbed a bridle, had Leo in it within seconds.
“What’re you doing?” Rory demanded.
“I’m going. I can get there faster on Leo, cutting through.”
“Stay here. Whoever did it might still be out there.”
“Then you stay here,” she snapped back. Swinging onto Leo’s bare back, she rode out at a gallop.
She’d heard the shot, she thought now. Heard the echo of it when she’d stepped outside, and hadn’t thought a thing of it. Now the idea that the shot had been aimed at Callen, had struck that gorgeous horse, filled her with fury.
Bent low, she took Leo into the trees, cutting off the longer length of the road, pushed him thundering down the narrow, uneven track, slowing him only to navigate down the slope.
She saw Callen, felt a dizzying wave of relief when she saw him standing, saw Sundown standing. And another dizzying wave of fear at the blood soaking the ground.
He glanced up, his face carved with rage. It didn’t fade off when he spotted her. “What the hell are you doing?”
“How bad is it?” she called out, picking her way down. “They’re on their way. How bad?”
“I don’t know. Goddamn it, Bodine, you’ve got no business—”
He cut himself off. She’d come, and he couldn’t change that. “Take his head, will you? Talk to him. He’s hurt, he’s shaken up.”
Quivering, Bodine thought as she jumped off Leo, went to Sundown’s head to soothe. “It’s all right. It’s all right. We’re going to get you home and all fixed up. His belly?”
“I think it’s a graze. It’s long, carved a damn groove. It’s bleeding heavy.” He’d yanked out the spare shirt from his saddlebag once the bandanna had soaked through. “Did someone call the vet?”
She said, “Yes,” because someone would have, and Callen needed as much soothing as the horse. “Don’t worry. He’s going to be fine. Here they come.”
She held both horses steady as her father maneuvered the truck and trailer. Rory jumped out while it was still moving.
“Vet’s on her way, so’s the sheriff. Can he walk? We’ve got the hoist.”
“He’ll walk. He’ll load in.”