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Rescuing Cain (Christmas Rescue Series Book 2) Page 5


  Red fired her cheeks. “I didn’t get much, either.”

  “Well, it will definitely be off to bed early for us tonight.” His words throbbed with promise.

  Skye changed into pants and a shirt and strode out of the bedroom. Cain’s eyes blazed, his nostrils flared slightly on seeing how snuggly the clothes fit her.

  “I’m glad there are no other men around to see you in such figure hugging clothes.”

  He sounded possessive and a little thrill shot through her. “We have to borrow Lochie, grandpa, so don’t go outside.”

  “You take care of my wee Skye, she’s all I’ve got left in the world now.” He suddenly looked so sad she wanted to weep for him and all he had lost. “I’m looking forward to holding your bairn on my knee.”

  “What’s he saying?” A flicker of annoyance flashed in Cain’s eyes.

  “He said he’s looking forward to holding our baby on his knee.” She was surprised to see red run into Cain’s face.

  “Yeah, well, it’s too soon for that. Let’s go.”

  “Come on, Lochie, Cain’s getting impatient.” She didn’t like leaving grandpa alone, but Cain couldn’t round the wild cattle up on his own. He was right, it was too good an opportunity to miss out on. “I hope grandpa will be all right on his own.”

  “He will be. You worry too much about things, darlin’, your hair will be grey by the time you’re thirty if you aren’t careful.”

  She enjoyed the gallop across their land.

  “You fed Jupiter too well,” he said when they slowed down. “He’s fat and out of condition, just look at him, he’s blowing like a bellows. We’ll have to take it easy now, they’re behind those trees and we don’t want to spook them. You move to one side, while I get behind them and drive them forward. Can you pick up any who veer off?”

  “Yes, Lochie helps me anytime I have to move cattle.”

  Cain rode off with the dog dancing around Jupiter. “You’re a dang fool of a thing,” he said.

  About five minutes later she heard the dog barking and the cattle broke out of the trees. Cain drove them from behind, Lochie was at their side. They seemed docile enough. There must have been a rogue bull out there somewhere and he certainly wouldn’t be happy about losing his harem.

  “We’ll keep them separate to yours until I can check them out, although they look healthy enough. Actually, a couple of them don’t look far off calving even if it isn’t the best time of the year for it.”

  “That will be even more stock for us.”

  “Do you have a branding iron?”

  “Yes, I’m not sure where it is, though.”

  “Tomorrow I’ll brand them as quick as I can, then they’ll be yours no matter what anyone says.”

  He had obviously worked on a ranch before, even if he hadn’t mentioned it. In fact, he’d said very little about himself. Lochie barking and nipping at a few heels kept the cattle moving, although Skye kept a sharp lookout in case something spooked them into stampeding.

  The journey back to the home pasture was uneventful. As they drove the cattle into the fenced enclosure, she noticed some of the railings had been repaired by Cain. “Thanks for doing all this work for us.”

  “I can’t say it was a pleasure, but I wanted to help. You’ve been too long without an able-bodied man around this place.”

  “I know. I hated seeing the place get so rundown, but there are a lot of things I’m not strong enough to do on my own.”

  He gnawed his lip. “In my opinion you should move into a town.”

  “No. Never. Grandpa would die there, cooped up inside all the time because he wouldn’t know his way around a strange place. People would stare at him. It wouldn’t be fair.” She wrung her hands. “I couldn’t do it to him. Anyway, you’re here now.”

  “Yes, I am. Look, Skye, I’m only thinking of your welfare.” He closed and latched the gate.

  “This could be a good ranch like it used to be now you’re here.”

  He made to say something, then obviously thought better of it. A chill ran through her. Didn’t he intend to stay?

  “You’re not planning on leaving us, are you?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “No, I’m not planning anything at the moment there’s too much work to be done here.”

  She moved her horse closer to him and touched his thigh. “I love you.”

  He leaned down and kissed her. “I’m not worthy of your love, darlin’.”

  “I think you are.”

  “Go back to the cabin and start on supper and I’ll finish a few things up here. Where do you think your branding iron might be?”

  “There’s a large box in the corner of the barn where we keep our tools and things.”

  They both dismounted. The dog gave a loud bark and dashed off toward the cabin. He was a good working dog, more importantly, a loyal companion for grandpa.

  Suddenly Cain pulled her into his arms and his mouth crashed down on hers. After a couple of minutes, he raised his head and gasped out. “I can’t get enough of those sweet lips of yours.”

  Was that the way to keep him here? Act like some wanton woman? Heat rushed to her cheeks. She didn’t think it was possible to become any more wanton that what she was in their marital bed last night. Cain lit fires in her that she had never known existed.

  “You know those fir trees we passed.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I cut down a small one every year and decorate it for Christmas.”

  “It’s not Christmas yet.”

  “I know it’s over three weeks away, but I like to have it decorated early, we can enjoy it for longer that way.”

  “I’ll try to get one for you tomorrow or the next day, okay?”

  “Thank you.” She turned toward the cabin.

  “By the way, the Trading Post you mentioned. How far away is it?”

  “About four miles, why?”

  “I was thinking of riding over there to buy a few things.”

  “Like what? Ebenezer, the owner, is a cheating varmint.

  “He might be, but I need coffee, I can’t drink that tea you make. I need more nails and I could get tobacco for your grandfather.”

  “I don’t trust him.”

  “I’m not going to move in with him. I just need to buy a few things. He’s much closer than the nearest town.”

  “That’s true, but his produce is overpriced, and I heard he sells guns and whiskey to renegade Indians.”

  “He probably does, but he’ll have what we need, that’s the main thing. Off you go, this talking isn’t getting our work done.” He laughed and swatted her on the backside. “Be gone woman and get your husband’s supper going.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Two days after they had rounded up the wild cattle, Cain rode off to pay a visit to Ebenezer’s Trading Post. He couldn’t survive any longer without a decent cup of coffee. To conserve the small amount of coffee he did carry in his saddlebags, Skye had used it sparingly. He couldn’t decide which was worse, weak coffee or no coffee at all?

  He needed bullets too, not that he told her, and the old man had run out of pipe tobacco. It was one of the few pleasures McLeod had.

  “Goodbye, Cain, be careful,” she had said, her pretty face clouding over.

  He was always careful. Well, one of the few times he had been careless it had nearly got him killed. He had more to live for now than at any other time in his life.

  “I’ve got a fine woman, Jupiter.” He patted the gelding’s neck. “She’s far too good for the likes of me.”

  Skye had never been timid, she carried too heavy a load on her slim shoulders for that. Shy was probably the best word to describe her. Not anymore, though. In his arms in their marital bed she was passionate, always anxious to please. He must have done a good job of pleasuring her if the way her body responded was anything to go by.

  Why couldn’t he tell her that he loved her? Why wouldn’t the words come out of his mouth? He didn’t know much about love, but thought he did love her, yet he didn’t know how to say it. I show her, don’t I?

  His shoulder still wasn’t completely healed. It often ached if he tried to do too much. Not that he would admit it to anyone, he had never been the type to whine or complain about his lot in life. A man put up with the cards fate dealt him and did the best he could with them.

  He had branded the cattle, all in reasonable condition except for a cow with an injured leg which he slaughtered. Skye had preserved the meat, after they had eaten their fill of fresh steak.

  What kind of man would bring a rose cutting all the way from Scotland to America he wondered? The Bonnie Prince Charlie rose had been the emblem for the Highlanders in the Jacobite rebellion Skye had explained to him. It didn’t look anything special to him. A flower was a flower as far as he was concerned.

  The Isle of Skye had apparently figured in the escape of the Prince to France when the rebellion failed. He didn’t know whether it was truth or legend, didn’t really care. Skye was adamant it did happen. Why would you want to dredge stuff like that from the past? What good would it do? He couldn’t believe he was even thinking about rubbish like this.

  He passed no-one, the countryside, a mixture of forest and prairie, was surrounded by mountains. A few birds flew overhead otherwise it was silent. The wind was cold, although his duster kept out the worst of it. He smelled the smoke before he saw a long, low structure built of roughly hewn logs. It had a stone chimney at either end. Chickens scratched around in the front yard. A couple of elderly Indians sitting cross-legged on the ground, glanced at him without much interest. Ebenezer’s Trading Post, proclaimed a board nailed on to the wall near the door.

  He dismounted and tied Jupiter to the hitching rail next to another couple of nondescript horses. Several Indian ponies grazed nearby under the watchful eye of an old squaw.

  This place had a bad aura, and had he not been so desperate for his supplies he would have turned tail and ridden straight back to the ranch. The twin guns he wore were a comfort. He could draw quickly and shoot straight, which had kept him alive over the past few years.

  Carrying his saddlebags over one arm, he sauntered into the store as if he didn’t have a care in the world, yet inwardly he was on the alert for any sign of trouble. In a situation like this he usually shot first and asked questions later.

  In between pursuing the Oliver brothers, he had worked as a trail-hand earning about thirty dollars a month, a stage driver for about the same amount, and a gun for hire for varying amounts of money, to get enough to live on. His sharp wits and speed with a gun had kept him employed.

  Glancing around he decided the store was in a chaotic state with goods packed along the walls from floor to ceiling in some places. Every imaginable item a man could possibly want looked to be here.

  Lounging against the counter was a tall man with long grey streaked hair. His eyes bulged out over pouches of overhanging fat. Removing the knife, he was picking at his teeth with, he said. “Howdy, stranger. I’m Ebenezer, the owner of this here store.”

  “Howdy.” Cain didn’t give his name. “I’ve come to get a few supplies, unfortunately, I don’t have much money on me so I can only get the barest necessities.” He purposely let everyone know he wasn’t worth robbing.

  A table was set up in one corner with three rough looking men drinking whiskey, probably of the rot-gut variety. They eyed him with interest.

  A young woman sashayed out from behind a blanket covered doorway and hovered near him. Her dirty, faded dress was open almost to the waist, exposing most of her large breasts. “Want me to lift my skirt for ya stranger?”

  He inwardly shuddered. “No thanks, I’m not in the mood.”

  “Git back inside.” Ebenezer backhanded the woman across the face. “Or I’ll take me belt to ya.”

  “Is there any need for that?” The words fell involuntarily from Cain’s mouth; he didn’t like to see women abused.

  “She’s me wife, so I’ll treat her how I want.”

  Cain gritted his teeth. He didn’t want any trouble and would likely get it if he didn’t keep quiet. “Um.” He swallowed hard. “Like you say, she’s your woman. Do you have any pipe tobacco?”

  “Yeah. Large pack or small?”

  “I’m short of money so small pack. I need coffee, sugar and molasses.” He reached out and picked up two boxes of bullets for his six gun and another box for his Winchester. He spied jars filled with colorful candy, two pieces for a nickel, and suddenly thought of Skye.

  “I’ll have a scoop of those.” He pointed to the ones he wanted.

  “Yeah, okay. Need to sweeten ya gal up?”

  Two of the men at the table snickered, one man’s disgusting comment had Cain wanting to ram his fist down the filthy varmint’s throat.

  “Anything else I can get ya, Mister?”

  “Yeah, half a dozen tins of beans. That’s it, I can’t afford anything else.” He stowed his purchases in his saddlebags.

  “Are ya from around these parts?” Ebenezer went on.

  “Nope, just passing through. I’m meeting a couple of friends not far from here. I drew the short straw and had to detour and come here. We weren’t sure what was between here and Laramie.”

  At the mention of Laramie, the men at the table stopped talking. “You plan on joining the Oliver gang?”

  “What’s it to you?” Cain’s stomach muscles clenched, and he fought to keep his interest in check. Obviously, the outlaws hadn’t deviated from their plans for the bank in Laramie.

  “They’re holed up near there.”

  “Shuddup,” the older man in the group snarled.

  “I’ve got no interest in the Oliver gang. Why should I?”

  After paying for his purchases and stowing them in his saddlebags, he prepared to leave with only a few dollars left to his name. He strode out of the store alert for any sudden movements from behind him. Nodding to the Indians outside he stepped over to Jupiter, adjusted his saddlebags, mounted and galloped off, half expecting to be shot in the back.

  A cold wind had blown up, the sky hung heavy with angry grey clouds. On the distant mountain peaks, he could have sworn he saw snow. As great plops of rain hit his hat and shoulders, he realized he’d be lucky to make it back to the ranch before a storm blew in.

  What if he didn’t return to the ranch, instead headed straight for Laramie? Revenge still burned fiercely inside him; the flames only slightly quenched by Skye. He couldn’t run out on her, but he couldn’t truly live a proper life until he had sent the Oliver brothers to hell.

  It would be easier to ride off, do what had to be done and if he was lucky, return to Skye and make a decent life for them. “One last chance to get them for you, Brian,” he muttered, making for a huge rock formation to shelter from the now driving rain, and to ensure he wasn’t being followed.

  The rain would wash out any marks Jupiter had left on the trail. He couldn’t risk these varmints following him to McLeod’s ranch. He felt protective toward Skye and the old man, but it couldn’t stop him from leaving them to exact his revenge on the men who had murdered his friend and sent him to prison. They had to pay, no matter what it costs me. I can’t live anymore with this hatred eating into me. It had to be purged. One way or the other.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Through the window and the driving rain, Skye saw Cain riding toward the cabin. “Grandpa, Cain’s back.” She dashed outside to wait for him to dismount.

  “Howdy, darlin’.”

  The moment he stepped on to the porch she flung herself in his arms. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  He put her to one side. “I’m soaked and I don’t want you to get wet. You can welcome me back in a suitable manner later.” His smile was full of promise for good things to come. Excitement raced from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

  “I’ll see to Jupiter before I change out of these wet clothes.” He shivered. “It’s freezing up near the mountains.”

  “Would you like a hot bath?”

  “I sure would, darlin’.”

  “I’ll put the water on for you.”

  He swept off his hat causing a shower of water to cascade on to the porch floor, leaned in and gave her a quick kiss, before stepping back, jamming on his hat and striding over to his horse.

  She returned inside.

  “Where’s he off to now,” grandpa asked.

  “To tend his horse. I’ll bring in the tin bath I left outside to fill with rain-water.”

  “Let him do it, lass. It’s too heavy for you.”

  “Try and speak English grandpa.”

  “Gaelic is easier for me now. I know you care deeply for him, Skye. I fear he will hurt you.”

  “I thought you liked him?”

  “I do, but he’s carrying a heavy burden of hatred around in his heart which leaves no room for him to love you.”

  “He does love me. He shows me every….” She suddenly realized what she was telling him, and her cheeks heated.

  “For a man, there doesn’t need to be love.”

  His comment sent a shaft of pain through her. Her grandfather had put into words what had sometimes kept her awake after his passion was spent. Cain didn’t really love her, he just enjoyed what they shared.

  She suddenly felt as if she was wearing lead boots. A queasy sensation started in her stomach as she trudged toward the stove to move the two large pots, she always used to heat up bath water, back on the heat. They had boiled earlier in the day so it wouldn’t take long for them to get hot again.

  By the time Cain returned inside carrying his saddlebags the water was simmering.

  “I left the bath outside so the rain would fill it up a bit.”

  He grinned. “Clever gal. A coffee first, though.” He dumped the saddlebags on the table. “Before I remove my boots, I’ll go bring in the bath.”

  “Put it near the stove, it will be warmer for you.”

  “Okay. I checked on the pregnant cows, nothing doing in the calving department. I’m thinking another couple of weeks or so.”