“I know you did, and this is not your fault.” She leaned closer. “Listen, Ricardo. We have to take care of ourselves. Do you understand? I don’t know if the Rangers can come for us.” Her voice shook at the thought of what Chisholm might be facing right now. As much as she wanted to go to Chisholm, she had to focus on saving Ricardo right now.
Se?or Reynolds lumbered over to them, took out a knife, and cut the ropes that bound Ricardo to the tree. “Enough chitchat, y’all.” He sheathed his knife and picked up his revolver. Its silver barrel glinted in a shaft of sunlight. “Hope you said your good-byes. It’s time to get this over with.”
Chisholm stopped to examine the crushed pecans near the trail. The faint imprint of a horseshoe left him no doubt that he was on the right track. So far, the clues had come at regular intervals, and he couldn’t be more relieved at Caro’s quick thinking.
He jumped back onto Bullet. The horse’s strong muscles bunched, almost as if he sensed Chisholm’s urgency. Chisholm headed to the top of the hill, praying he’d find Caro on the other side, safe and unharmed.
Keeping Bullet to a walk, he paused to survey the terrain. He spotted Caro, and his heart pounded so hard it hurt to breathe. Reynolds stood with a revolver on Caro and Ricardo, prodding them toward the wide, turbulent creek.
Chisholm whipped out his rifle, but he was still too far to make a safe shot. What if he hit Caro or Ricardo? He stormed forward, praying he’d arrive in time.
Ricardo suddenly broke free from the rope, spun, and kicked the revolver out of Reynolds’s hands. Reynolds dove at Ricardo, knocking him into Caro, who went flying into the creek.
Heart sinking to his gut, Chisholm pushed Bullet harder. Only a few more yards to the creek’s bank, and he could get to Caro. Reynolds rolled away from Ricardo and spotted Chisholm. He jumped on his roan and drove his spurs into the animal’s sides. If Chisholm didn’t stop him, he’d get away.
But saving Caro was more important. Chisholm halted Bullet so hard, the horse reared. He vaulted from the saddle, dropped his rifle, and tore his boots off. Caro bobbed in the current. He jumped into the creek, and the shock of the cold water stole his breath. Lifting his head, he spotted her. It took only a few kicks to reach her. He grabbed the back of her collar and drew her against him. She struggled and kicked. He crooked his arm beneath her chin. “Relax, Caro. I’ve got you.”
She gave up the fight, and he swam back to the bank, where Ricardo was waiting to help her to solid ground. Chisholm scrambled up the slope and pulled her into his arms.
He sucked in a lungful of air. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” But her shivering told him otherwise.
“Ricardo, get the blanket off my horse.” His heart pounded. He’d almost lost her.
Caro pulled back and brushed a strand of wet hair from her face. She smiled, her eyes droopy with exhaustion. “The one time I wanted you to do your duty, and you let Se?or Reynolds get away.”
Caro stood on the porch of the Walking Diamond’s ranch house, watching for Chisholm to return. The sun would set any minute. Where was he?
As soon as he’d seen her back to her mother’s care, Chisholm and Ricardo had ridden off to help Whit. He promised to return after they’d arrested Reynolds and his men and turned them over to the sheriff, and she hadn’t stopped praying for his and Whit’s safety since.
At least she prayed continually while she was awake. After a warm bath, her mother had insisted she go to bed, and sleep had overcome her for most of the afternoon.
Now Caro sat down in a rocking chair on the porch and glanced around this place. Sadness filled her and she hugged herself. This ranch house had become her home. Ricardo, her mother, and she had no claim to it. They’d have to leave, and Chisholm would have to go on his way, as well.
The pounding of hooves sent her spirits soaring. Whit and Ricardo rode in first, followed by Chisholm. Something trailed behind Chisholm’s horse, and she strained to see it.
Chisholm drew closer and the other two men headed toward the barn. She could now see he had a little longhorn calf in tow. Chisholm laughed. “Don’t look so confused. Don’t you recognize Bluebonnet?”
“I thought it was her, but why is she here?”
“She’s a gift from Slade McCord.”
She descended the porch steps and knelt beside the calf. “It was nice of him to give you a gift for catching the wranglers.”
“She’s not for me. She’s for us.” Chisholm held out his hand and pulled her to her feet. He didn’t release her but instead looked down into her eyes, his dimples impossibly deep. “Bluebonnet is a wedding present. She’ll be the first cow in our herd.”
Caro’s breath caught.
“I know you can’t marry a man of duty, so I’ll resign from the Texas Rangers as soon as possible. I can live without them, but I can’t live without you. I love you, Caro, and I’m asking you to marry me.”
She bit her lip. How was she going to refuse him?
Chapter Twelve
A strange tightness seized Chisholm’s throat. What was taking Caro so long to answer?