Colton's Folly (Native American contemporary romance) (6 page)

The woman patted Abby’s shoulder.
”Muy bueno.”
Turning to Cat, she said, “Enrique should be in the barn.” Just then a door slammed and footsteps came toward them. A deep voice thundered, “Who’s the company, Cinta?”

As Jacinta was about to respond, a man entered and stopped just inside the doorway, filling the opening with his massive frame and stooping to avoid the upper crossbar. He was even taller than Cat, and more muscular through the shoulders and chest; his size was almost frightening. Abby thought she saw a resemblance between the two, something in the eyes and in their broad smiles.

He came forward, his hand extended to Cat, and Abby felt as if she were standing in the shadow of a giant California redwood. His voice, however, was gentle, and as warm as his smile when Cat took his hand.

“Man, it’s been too long between visits. How the hell are you?”

“Good, Hank, real good.”

“And Aunt Martha and the girls?”

“They’re fine, too. Mother sends her love.” Cat turned to Abby. “This is my cousin, Hank Matthews. Hank, meet Abby Colton. She’ll be teaching at the Buttes.”

The man turned his smile on her, and Abby looked at the lights dancing in his blue-gray eyes and felt the warmth of his hands on hers. What a pair they make, she thought dryly, so alike and yet so different.

“Welcome to H-M-R, Miss Colton.”

“Thank you, Mr. Matthews.” She looked at the two men. “I can see a family resemblance, I think.”

He laughed. “Call me Hank. Our fathers were brothers. Mine came out before his, was settled in here really tight by the time his dad got out here. Because of his height, Uncle Chris was given the name ‘Tall-Man-Walking’ when he was adopted into the tribe by Aunt Martha’s people. Over time, it was simplified to Tallman.”

“If he was anything like you two, the name fit.”

“He was and it did. Right, Cat?”

Cat nodded silently.

“What’re you two doing here?”

“Looking for a horse for Abby.”

“I see.” He turned to her. “How experienced a rider are you?”

“Very.”

“Ever break a horse?”

“I’ve trained a few, but never broken one. Why?”

“Just so I know which ones to avoid.” He started for the front door. “C’mon, the herd’s in the upper pasture. It’s only a short walk.”

The one-mile hike took them through grassland already turning green, and sparkling in the early-morning sun. Abby walked between the two men, listening to them catching up on news of family and friends.

Finally they reached the top of a rise, and Cat pointed down into the canyon below. A medium-size herd of horses was grazing peacefully, as yet unaware of the presence of humans.

“How do you keep them from running away?”

“Stockades at both ends that you can’t see from this angle,” Hank answered. “See anything you like?”

Abby looked down at the animals. “I can’t tell much from this distance. Can we get closer?”

“On foot?”

“Why not? I’m not afraid.”

“You should be. We’re not looking at refined, riding- stable animals here. They could turn on us.”

“Just a little closer. Please?”

Hank sighed. “Okay. There’s a shelf about ten feet down. We’ll go that far.” He looked at her pointedly. “But no farther.”

Abby merely smiled.

They moved quietly to avoid disturbing the animals, who had not yet picked up their scent. When they reached the narrow ledge Abby hunkered down and let her eyes move slowly from one horse to another. As she did, details began to register: a swayback on one; poor conformation in another; breathing problems in a third. Most of the horses were strong and healthy, however, and she saw several that would do if she wanted an ordinary mount. But she wanted something more, something special, and a horse like that didn’t appear to be part of this herd.

Suddenly an animal whinnied and the horses moved apart, as if making way for another to join them. From beneath the overhang emerged a magnificent gray, bred for speed and endurance. Her eyes traveled from his sturdy neck along his short, straight back to his compact but powerful hindquarters and strong legs. His coat was pale, shimmering like silver in the bright sunlight; he tossed his head, and his mane rippled like threads of dark silk.

As if he knew Abby was watching him, he turned and looked up at her, the clear white around his pupils adding a savage glitter to his animal gaze. Nostrils flaring, he tossed his head once more, and another call rumbled up from his massive belly. He stood and waited.

“I want him,” Abby said quietly. “The gray.”

Hank shook his head. “He’s not for you, miss.”

“Why not?”

“He’s too much horse for you. I’m sorry,” the big man said gently, “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. He’s broke, but he’s never been rode. You’ll never tame him down.”

Abby’s voice was quietly determined. “How do I get down there?”

When Hank failed to answer, she looked around, walked to the right, then the left, and found a footpath. Before either man could stop her, she scrambled down to the canyon floor below. Fearlessly, she made her way through the herd and stood head to head with the animal of her choice. He never moved, simply waited, alert, obviously curious. Hank moved to join her, but Cat held him back with a hand on his arm.

They could hear Abby below, murmuring to the animal, sounds without human meaning. The gray seemed to understand, however, and whickered softly in response. Slowly Abby brought up a hand and caressed his thick neck with long, easy strokes. She brought her face close to his, touching his muzzle with her forehead, then laying her cheek along the side of his head and wrapping her left arm around his neck as she continued to stroke with her right hand.

The men watched in amazement as the animal patiently submitted to Abby’s caresses, nuzzling her in return, a shiver of pleasure coursing through his powerful body. Finally she withdrew, backing away slowly, still talking to him in that strange language of sound. He stood in place as if waiting for her next move as she turned and took two or three steps away, then stopped. The horse stepped forward, then halted in his tracks. Abby repeated her movements, and the big gray followed. Then she walked the length of the small canyon floor and stopped, her back still to the horse. After a moment or two he followed, stopping only when his muzzle touched the back of her neck. He nudged her gently once, then again, as if to remind her of his presence and to coax her into further contact.

Smiling, she turned back to him, offering two cubes of sugar in her right palm. He whinnied softly once more and gently took the treat with his soft, moist lips as she moved close and spoke into his ear. His muscles quivered as she passed her hand down his side and over his flank, but he stood still when she did, and walked beside her when she retraced her steps.

Satisfied, she reached into her pocket and removed a braided halter, which she slipped loosely around his neck. When he accepted the restraint she led him in a slow walk, one arm still around his neck, the other holding the lead rope. Still he acquiesced, and she removed her arm. He stayed with her as she walked him around the perimeter. Finally she led him to a spot beneath where the men stood, silently watching. She smiled up at them and asked, “How do I get him out of here?”

* * *

Jacinta insisted that they stay for lunch, and near the end of the meal Hank asked, “Where did you learn to do that?”

Abby picked at her salad and shrugged. “I don’t know. I spent some time on a farm as a kid, and I worked with the horses a bit.”

Cat had been sitting quietly, listening to the conversation that had accompanied lunch, but saying little. In the back of his mind a dialogue raged between the part of him that insisted this woman was a dangerous opportunist, and the part of him that was beginning to think she was something else entirely.

Now he interjected, “You don’t learn that, it comes naturally.” He gave her an offhand salute. “My hat’s off to you. I’ve never seen the like before.”

Abby acknowledged the tribute with only a nod as her common sense told her that one small compliment did not make a truce.

“How did you know he’d respond that way?” Hank asked.

“I didn’t, for certain,” she answered. “But I knew he was curious. I just used that.”

Hank shook his head. “It was quite a sight, I’ll tell you.”

“He’s a beautiful animal,” Abby agreed.

“I wasn’t talking horseflesh.”

Her expression was one of confusion, but when she saw the look of open admiration on his face his meaning became clear, and she blushed violently.

Hank laughed with delight. “Hot damn! I haven’t seen a woman blush like that in years. Wonderful.” He quickly became serious. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but has this handsome cousin of mine made a pass at you yet?”

Abby looked at Cat and smiled at his obvious discomfiture. “No... I can’t say that he has.”

“Good,” Hank continued softly, “because before too much longer, I will. And I don’t wanna go poaching on someone else’s range.”

Abby smiled sweetly at him, but her eyes snapped with anger, a clue he missed. Cat caught it, however, and struggled to hide a smile of perverse pleasure as she countered, “The range you’d like to explore isn’t your cousin’s but mine--and I’d suggest you watch out for the barbed wire and the sign that says ‘No Trespassing.’ ”

He looked at her for a moment, then smiled and nodded as her meaning registered. “I see. Well, I still think you’re a remarkable woman. And you’re welcome on my side of the fence any time you change your mind.”

Outside a horse whinnied loudly. Abby responded with obvious pleasure. “That’s my gray. Or he will be, once we’ve arranged payment, Hank.”

He shook his head. “I won’t take money, Abby. Not after what I saw. It wouldn’t be right.”

At first she thought he might be flirting again, but the look in his eyes told her this was something else. “I don’t understand.”

“First of all, you got talent, more’n I’ve got, more’n that cousin of mine over there, and we’ve both earned a rep working with horses. That show you put on was more than worth the price of admission.

“Second, if ever a horse and rider were meant for each other, you and that gray are. It’s the most perfect matchup I’ve seen, and I won’t make a profit off of that.”

“You’re quite a romantic, aren’t you, Hank?”

“I can see what’s right, that’s all.”

“I appreciate this, and perhaps someday I can return the favor.”

He laughed. “You can count on it, lady.”

“How are you getting the stallion home, Abby?” Cat’s voice was low, his tone almost challenging.

“Can I borrow a mount?” she asked Hank.

“Sure. Cat, you leave the jeep. I’ll lend you a mount, too. One of my hands can return the wheels tomorrow and bring back the horses.”

They brought the big gray home tethered between them. Conversation was sporadic as they concentrated on the countryside, looking for ruts and prairie dog holes and, wherever possible, steering clear of heavy brush or rocky hillocks.

They stopped at the creek that ran through the reservation and dismounted to let the horses drink from the clear, cool shallows. They stood to either side of the stallion, unsure whether he would run off. But he seemed content to drink and graze in the company of the two mares Hank had lent them.

“Hank’s idea was a good one, don’t you think?”

“You mean giving us two of the gray’s mares for company? Yeah, it was. By the way, what did you think of Hank?”

“He seems nice and a lot of fun. I liked him.”

“He liked you, too.”

“I gathered as much.” Abby’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “He made you feel uncomfortable, didn’t he?”

Cat responded with a rueful smile. “That’s the price I pay for having an almost older brother. He takes liberties.”

“A small price to pay,” Abby said softly. “He’d be handy in a tough spot.”

“Used to be. We don’t see much of each other anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t get out that way too often.”

“You should make the effort. Family is family.”

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “You sound like my mother.”

She laughed. “There you go. Now you know I must be right.”

The gray whinnied and shifted closer to Abby, who hooked an arm beneath his neck and laid her head alongside his. His body was warm and sturdy and gave her a sense of security, and she leaned against him. He braced his legs and stood quietly, content to have her near.

“Looks like you’ve got a new love,” Cat commented in a soft voice.

She looked at the animal, then whispered in his ear, “Is the man right, big fella? Are we a pair?”

As if in answer, the gray tossed his head and nickered loudly. Abby laughed. “I guess it must be true.”

Her hand absentmindedly traveled down the length of his back in lazy strokes, her fingers responding with an almost sensual pleasure to the feeling of strength beneath his velvety coat. His quiet breathing calmed her, and his animal smell was familiar, bringing back memories of happy times in her past. She closed her eyes, totally relaxed for the first time in weeks.