Wyoming Brave (Wyoming Men #6)

“He didn’t approve of your sister getting involved with him?”

“He didn’t know, or they never could have,” she replied. “Paul loved her so much. More than anything in the world. He broke up with her because of money...well, because of Daddy,” she amended, not wanting to tell him the whole truth. “She went off to the Bahamas to try to get over Paul, and got caught in a hurricane. Paul and Mandy, our housekeeper, flew down there to look for Sari.” She shivered. “Paul used his FBI credentials to get to the disaster scene. He found a body with red hair. He thought it was Sari. Mandy said she’d never seen him cry.” She stopped and swallowed. “They went back to Nassau to arrange to fly the body home, and there was Sari, drenched but alive getting off a sailing ship that had rescued her and some of the other tourists on the tour. It was a wonderful homecoming.”

“They’re married now?”

She laughed. “Oh, yes. Paul was going to be noble, but Mandy said Sari locked him in a bedroom with her. They were married less than a week later.”

He chuckled. “She sounds like a character.”

“She is. My best friend, as well as my big sister.”

“I never had siblings, until my mother married Randall’s father,” he said, pain just slightly visible in his hard features. “He was well-to-do, so mother finally had everything she ever wanted. I haven’t spoken to her in years, but I loved Randall,” he said, his voice softening. “We’re not full brothers, but that never mattered. I’d do anything for him.”

“He speaks the same way about you,” she replied.

“Hey, boss!” one of the hands called. “Snow’s getting pretty deep. Want me to hitch up the sledge and start hauling hay to the south pasture?”

“Good idea, Bandy,” Ren called back. “Call some of the part-timers in, if you have to.”

“I will.”

“Your men are nice,” she said.

He chuckled as he shouldered away from the fence. “They’re competent, or they wouldn’t work here, nice or not. We’d better get going, before the snow gets any deeper.”

She was afraid he was going to cancel the tour. She beamed when she realized that he wasn’t.

He turned away from the sweet, shy look on her face. He wondered about her. She didn’t seem to fit a pattern at all.

*

THEY RODE THROUGH the lodgepole pines to a small stream, its banks thick with snow, that ran through the property. It was like a silver ribbon in the snowy landscape.

“I just can’t get over how shallow the streams and rivers are out here,” she remarked. “Back home, even streams are pretty deep in places.”

“A lot of things are different out here in Wyoming. We had a cowboy lost in a blizzard once. Took us two days to find him, and he wasn’t alive by the time we did. He didn’t follow the cardinal rule.”

“Which is?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“Stay put. It’s best to stay on a trail or path or road, if you’re near one. But you never keep walking. It’s suicide.”

“I’ll remember,” she said. “What kind of trees are those?” she asked, indicating some hardwoods near the stream.

“Cottonwoods,” he told her, smiling. “Old-timers used to scrape the sap from them and eat it like ice cream.”

“Wow!”

He chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Are you always that excited to learn new things?”

“Always,” she replied. “I read a lot about the Inuit, up in Alaska. They have over fifty words for snow.”

“We have just a few words for it, and none of them are repeatable in mixed company,” he said, tongue in cheek.

It took her a minute to get what he was saying. When she did, she burst out laughing.

He pulled his hat lower over his eyes. “The boys usually have a campfire out near the first line cabin. We’ll go that far and then turn back. Snow’s getting deep, and I’ll have things to do.”

“Okay.” She was looking forward to seeing a real campfire. She hoped the one she’d put in Ren’s painting was realistic. She’d seen them in movies, but never in real life.

*

THE LINE CABIN was small, made of rough wood. There were three cowboys sitting around a big bonfire. One was making coffee. Another was frying what looked like bacon and eggs.

“Hey, boss!” the youngest cowboy said, smiling. “Damned stove stopped working, so we’re roughing it.”

“I’ll have Grandy come out and see about fixing it tomorrow,” Ren promised. “Got enough coffee for two more?”

“Sure do. Bacon and eggs, too.”

“We just had breakfast, but thanks,” Ren replied.

He dismounted and helped Merrie down.

She grimaced as she tried to walk.

“Legs sore?” Ren teased. “Riding takes some getting used to.”

“I noticed,” she said with a laugh. “I haven’t ridden a horse in months.”

“Wish we could say that,” one of the other cowboys commented wistfully.

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