“Pa!”
With his dark Stetson hiding his face, Nick Gray bent to scoop the little girl into his arms. She held him fiercely, clinging to his wide shoulders. He looked stronger than ever, holding his child.
Mariah couldn’t hear his words, only the mumble of his voice, distant and low and soothing. She tore her gaze from him, fighting to ignore the hitch of longing deep inside. The sharp twinge of emotion shamed her.
She was too old to pine after some man she didn’t even like. Tucking her hair into some order, she gathered her skirts and turned her back on Nick before he recognized her. The last thing on this earth she wanted to do was to have to talk to him.
Riders galloped past her, searching out the fleeing coyotes.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” one of them asked.
“Fine.” She didn’t look at him as she trudged through the thick grasses.
Georgie was safe and in her father’s strong arms. There was no reason for her to stay, or for Nicholas Gray to say a single word to her. She was running late, and she had deliveries to make. She had no time for small talk.
“Ma’am! Wait up.” A deep, captivating male voice rumbled across the prairie.
Nick’s voice.
She cringed. So, he still hadn’t recognized her, had he? She walked faster.
“Ma’am, you’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine.”
Hooves clipped behind her, vibrating the earth. “You don’t look fine. I saw that coyote jump you, and I feared the worst. He scratched you up pretty bad. Your dress is torn.”
So, he still hadn’t recognized her, had he? She kept her back to him and refused to comment. Maybe if she ignored him, he would go away.
But no, Nick reined his gelding to a stop in front of her. The big brute was blocking her path, and she wasn’t referring to the horse. The years had drawn lines in his face and wariness into his eyes as blue as a Montana sky, but no amount of time had changed his attitude.
The brim of his hat shaded his face, but she could see the strong square of his jaw quirk as if he were surprised. “Mariah Scott. I might have known it was you. Not many women in this county can take on a pack of hungry coyotes and win.”
Not many women, huh? She ought to be used to that attitude. As if, because she’d never married and her youth had begun to fade, her feelings had gone, too. It hurt.
Good thing she had a thick skin. She lifted her chin and circled around his horse so she could continue on her way.
“Aw, c’mon, now.” Hooves clomped on the hard earth behind her. “I only meant you have the fortitude to scare off any rascal. Can’t you accept a man’s thanks?”
“Sure, when a man thanks me.”
“Mariah, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m grateful to you.”
“Fine. You’re welcome.” Don’t look at him. Looking at him would make her forgive him—just a little bit. There was no way she wanted to own up to the smallest feeling for Nick…unless it was a comfortable dislike.
She grabbed hold of the fence, careful of the barbed metal hooks.
He halted his horse beside her. “You’re angry with me.”
She wasn’t angry, but she could never explain it. She’d do best to ignore him, and that’s exactly what she intended to do. Let Nick Gray think she was angry, what would it matter? He may be looking for a wife, but she was smart enough to know he’d never consider her.
“’Bye, apple lady!” Georgie called across the field.
“Goodbye.” Mariah waved at the little girl clinging to her uncle’s arms. Somewhere along the way Nick must have handed off his daughter to his brother.
Georgie’s fingers waved in response over her uncle’s shoulder, so sweet Mariah felt her cold heart warm. At least the child was safe.
As for Georgie’s father, Mariah refused to acknowledge him as she slipped through the fence as fast as she could. Her hem caught in a wire, and she stumbled, but at least she was on the other side.
A safe distance from the man on his horse, sitting so tall and proud he touched the sky.
“I was glad it was you, Mariah. That you were the one riding along at the right time.”
“Me, too.”
She stumbled onto the rutted road, dust kicking up at her quick step. With every step she took, she could feel Nick’s gaze on her, bold as a touch. Why was he even speaking to her? She blinked fast to keep her eyes from blurring. Walked faster to get away from him.
She reached the wagon and pulled herself up. Was he still watching her? She turned her head just enough to see him at the edge of her vision, astride that black horse of his, one arm crossed jauntily on the saddle horn, the other at his hip.
He looked invincible. As if nothing could ever scare him. Or diminish the confidence he radiated like a midsummer’s sun.
She would give anything to possess his courage. Maybe then she’d be able to look him straight in the eye, but she tumbled onto the wagon seat. She heard the gate hinges creak. It would be better to leave and leave fast before the shaking deep in her stomach radiated through the rest of her.
There was no way she was going to let Nick Gray see how frightened she was. Why were her hands shaking like that? She took a deep breath. The worse part was over, wasn’t it? The coyotes were gone. The child was safe.
Except Mariah could still feel the hot breath on her neck and the weight of the coyote on her back. One rein slipped through her fingers. She scrambled after it, dropping onto her knees.
“Mariah?” Nick’s horse halted at the side of her wagon. His shadow fell across her. “Are you okay?”
“I told you, I’m fine.” She had to be. What choice did she have? She wasn’t Georgie—she couldn’t lean into Nick’s arms and find comfort. She had no comfort anywhere in her life. The last thing she intended to do was to admit it. “Where did that blasted rein go?”
“Here. It’s on the ground.” Nick leaned forward in his saddle, leather creaking with his movements, and reached for the thick strap.
His big, sun-browned fingers snatched it, the movement masculine and commanding, and she hated noticing it. Noticing him.
He straightened, looking her up and down with his steel-blue eyes. No emotion flickered in their depths. “You’re in no shape to drive. Maybe you ought to rest a spell. Let me take you up to the house.”
“Sitting here isn’t going to get my laundry delivered.” Pretending that his concern didn’t matter, she snatched the leather strap from his gloved fingers. “You go back to Georgie and keep her safe this time.”
“Still as prickly as ever, aren’t you, Mariah?” His jaw tightened. “Fine.
