Solitary Horseman (7 page)

Gliding up into the saddle in a fluid motion, he adjusted his seat and took up the reins. “If you see them around, you tell me. I’ll handle it. Anything or anyone bothers you, I’ll take care of it.”

She tipped her head to one side in wonderment. “Why would you do that? Fight my battles?”

“Because we’re partners. You’re under my protection. Anyone does harm by you, harms me.” He reined Butter around and tapped his boot heels against her sides to send her into a trot.

Under his protection
. Just the notion of that eased her heart and lifted some of the heavy weight off her shoulders. She trudged back to the washtub and the clothes that needed to be scrubbed and wrung out. The work went faster, fueled by her feverish memories of how Callum had looked at her . . . how he’d stroked his gaze over her like a lover’s hand.

Autumn spread fully over Texas in October. The air was suddenly crisp and more urgent. Leaves danced in the air and puddled in depressions and ditches. Thoughts turned to gathering the last of the vegetable and tuber crops, building wood piles, and plugging up any holes found in the house walls or around the windows and doors.

Banner dreaded the long winter ahead. Winter was the worst season. During the war, the cold months had made intolerable times even more intolerable. After the war, the frosty days reminded her of the brutal years and it seemed that every chore required double the effort. She couldn’t just haul water. She had to break up ice and then haul it. She couldn’t just go outside and do the wash. She had to bundle up before hauling wood for the fire for boiling the wash water, and then ignore the bite of winter wind on her face and fingers while scrubbing the clothes. Instead of hanging everything outside where it would freeze solid, the laundry had to be brought in and hung from room to room until dry.

But fall was pleasant with its cooling breezes and lovely colored skies. The moon sometimes hung like a jolly jack o’ lantern in the heavens. Coyotes yipped at it petulantly as if they didn’t recognize it anymore and meant to banish it.

Arriving at the Latimer house that first brisk fall morning, Banner counted back and realized it had been almost two months since she’d struck her deal with Callum. He hadn’t overtly ogled her since that day he’d come by to tell her about Johnson and Baines, but she had caught him looking at her from the corner of his eyes.

As for her, she openly studied him, finding him fascinating and infinitely easy on the eyes. She liked the care he took with his belongings – his clothes, ropes, saddle, and horse. Everything he owned, he valued. Often, she wondered if he valued her, as well. She was “under his protection,” so he must place some value on her, she reasoned. If for nothing else, she knew he appreciated her cooking if his ravenous appetite were any indication.

His hands held a profound fascination for her. Long-fingered, blunt-ended, and strong, she watched them glide over his horse’s flank with tenderness and grasp the back leg of a kicking calf with authority. Of an evening, she imagined those hands slipping along her thighs, gathering in her breasts, and fondling between her legs to ease the ache that had taken up residence there. Her own hands in those places gave her some release, but no real pleasure and never vanquished the fevered pulse of need.

When she’d become such a hussy, she couldn’t be certain . . . but it was sometime after agreeing to be Callum’s partner. She’d never in her life yearned for a man’s attention as she did for his. Every glance he afforded her, she treasured. Was this because she was a woman of marrying age who still wasn’t married?

Going about adding wood to the stove, she wondered how he quenched the fire in his loins. He surely must want a woman. Since she hadn’t seen any women about who weren’t already spoken for, she assumed he must truly visit women of easy virtue in town. But he hardly ever went to town. Occasionally, he went to church, but she didn’t see him claim any woman in particular. In fact, he normally escorted her from church and to her wagon. She presumed he did so to keep Altus Decker away from her.

Hearing Seth Latimer’s chair on the front porch squeak, she threw a frown in that direction. The old codger was still tossing scowls her way every chance he was given. Callum saw to him each morning before she arrived. He got Seth up, dressed, and out into the porch chair before the sun was in the sky. She knew he did it to preserve the older man’s dignity, but she wished he wouldn’t be so compliant. Seth Latimer needed to do more for himself.

Hearing the approach of a horse, Banner shut the stove lid and stepped out on the back stoop just as she heard Callum calling for Mary.

“She’s not here yet,” she shouted back to him and he spun his horse about to look at her. She shaded her eyes and noticed the grim set of his mouth. “Something wrong?”

“I need Mary’s hands.” He motioned her forward. “Have you ever pulled a calf?”

“Yes. A couple of times . . . but not by myself. Hollis—”

“That’s good enough.” He waved her toward him with an impatient gesture. “Come on. My hands are too big to reach far enough into a young heifer that’s trying to birth and having all kinds of trouble doing it.”

Not quite comprehending his intention, Banner approached him. As she got within reach, he leaned down, slipped his arm around her waist, and lifted her off her feet.

“What are you—!” Banner stiffened even as he shifted her to the rear of the horse.

“Plant your backside and hold tight to me.”

She barely had time to throw one leg over Butter and wrap her arms around Callum’s middle before the horse set out at a brisk walk and then a jolting trot. “Oh!” Banner felt herself slipping over the horse’s rump as her skirt hem rode up above the tops of her boots. Thank heavens she’d worn her divided skirt today! She wanted to push it down, but that would mean letting go of Callum, and if she did that, she would slide right off the horse, for sure. The jolting ride hammered her tailbone and spine, but she mostly focused on the feel of Callum’s muscled torso under her hands.

The scent of him – warm leather, minty soap, and wild grass – filled her head and she wanted to press her cheek to his back, but dared not. Clinging to him, she gloried in the movement of his muscles and the rubbing of his body against hers. He was lean and hard and all man, making everything womanly in her tingle.

His big horse ate up the ground, and before she knew it, they were on open pasture and she caught sight of a herd collected under a stand of trees. One lifted her head and let loose a long, anguished “mooooo” as Butter thundered closer. Banner felt Callum tug on the reins, pulling the horse to a dead-stop that almost unseated her.

He reached behind him, grabbed her forearm, and helped her slide off the horse. “Damn it all, she’s lying down. She was still standing when I left her.”

Banner brushed down her skirt and massaged the small of her back as she took in the situation. The calving heifer was, indeed, down and leaking out of her backside. She bellowed again in obvious discomfort. Callum sprang into action, fashioning a hackamore out of his rope and fitting it around the heifer’s head and nose. He glanced back at Banner.

“You pull on her while I get behind her to give her a shove. We need to get her upright.”

Eyeing the heifer with trepidation, Banner grabbed the rope and planted her boots while Callum went behind the distressed animal. He placed her hands against the cow’s rump and nodded at Banner. “I’m ready.”

Callum grunted as shoved with all his might. His face reddened and he gritted his teeth. Banner locked her knees and pulled and yanked on the rope. Callum shouted at the heifer and she finally stood, her hind legs first and then her front ones. Banner stepped back, winded, and her arms trembled from the exertion. She watched as Callum went to his horse and removed a long, dark coat from his saddle bag. He held it out to her.

“Slip your arms in this.”

“Why?”

“To keep your clothes clean. No, no,” he said, shaking his head when she started to turn around. “Put it on so that the coat protects the front of you.”

“Oh.” She nodded, realizing his intention. The last time she’d helped Hollis pull a calf she’d been soaked in blood and other smelly fluids that had taken two washings in vinegar and baking soda to remove from her skirt and blouse. “Good thinking.” She thrust her arms into the sleeves and Callum hoisted it up onto her. His coat swallowed her and fell past her feet. It was made of canvas and wasn’t lined. She reckoned he wore it when it was raining. Rope hung from the cuffs instead of buttons and he tightened them around her wrists, finishing them off with knots.

He grabbed the halter rope she’d dropped and planted his boots. “I couldn’t get my big paw very far up in her, but I think the calf is either sideways or coming butt first. Needs to be positioned right.”

“Okay.” She approached the business end of the heifer, dreading what she was about to do. Placing one hand against the animal’s rump, she held her breath and pushed her free hand inside. Muscles contracted around her fingers and wrist and she waited for them to release before she shoved in further. Closing her eyes so that she could try to “see” what she was feeling, she located a hoof and a head.

“The baby is sideways,” she said as she sought the other front hoof. The cow’s muscles contracted again, squeezing her arm like a vise. “Owww.”

“What’s wrong?”

“She’s having contractions.” Waiting her out, Banner steadied her own breathing, telling herself not to hold her breath, no matter how bad it smelled. After a few more seconds, the inner vise released her and she delved around the slime and poked at the slick calf until she found the other small hoof. Bracing herself, she began to maneuver the calf’s hooves and head into the birth canal. She could feel Callum’s steady gaze as she shifted her feet, tightened her grip, and tugged the calf another inch or two in the tight space. “Got it in the chute.”

“Good girl. Start pulling.”

“Not yet. I have to get its front legs straightened out.” Squeezing her eyes shut, she envisioned the calf as she worked one leg straight and then the other to bracket its face. “Ready now.” She backed up and her arm slipped out, the coat sleeve covered in slime and blood and leaking down the front of the coat. Her hand came free with a soft popping sound.

The heifer moaned and started to lie down again, but Callum was having none of it. “Oh, no, you don’t!” He jerked on the rope. “Grab the hooves and see if you can’t get the calf started.”

Banner nodded and shoved both hands inside the cow. It was a tight fit, but she was able to grasp the two hooves, which she tugged on. Her shoulder muscles burned and her back ached, but she kept up the steady momentum, feeling the calf move ever so slightly. “Help me, little mama,” Banner whispered. “Push!”

Suddenly, the cow bellowed as a contraction seized her, and Banner felt the calf slide forward. Two white hooves poked out. “Yes!” Banner got a better grip on them, dug in the heels of her boots, and leaned back with all her body weight. She watched with barely contained excitement as legs began to emerge and then a nose. “Come on, come on!”

“Step aside and let me at her,” Callum said, resting a hand on her shoulder and easing her away so that he could wrap his big hands around the calf’s front legs.

Banner blinked, her breath whooshing in and out from her struggles, and then stopping altogether when her gaze fell on the wide expanse of shoulders and back exposed to her. Having removed his shirt, Callum was naked from the waist up, and Banner couldn’t take her eyes off him. Muscles rippled under taut skin. As he tugged on the stubborn calf that was stuck in the birth canal, rivulets of sweat raced each other on either side of his spine and the muscles and sinew in his powerful forearms bunched and quivered.

Everything feminine within Banner quivered, too. She swallowed hard and felt herself go soft and creamy. How was it fair for a man to be that enticing and that virile, while a woman was expected to remember she was a lady and ladies weren’t supposed to be filled with lust?

“Come on, baby!” he growled, and Banner tried to focus on the cow and calf again.

With a squishy, sucking sound, the newborn’s head and shoulders cleared and it slipped all the way out, falling limply to the ground.

“Is it alive?” Banner asked, moving to stand beside Callum. He squatted down and wiped birthing fluid off the calf’s face.

“Take a big breath of life, little fella,” Callum crooned, his voice dipping to a soft, soothing rasp. He glanced up and sent Banner a quick wink that made her knees go weak. The calf’s head bobbed and its long legs flailed as it tried to stand. The mother ran her wide tongue across its backside, urging it up. “Clean him up, mama, and let him have some milk.” Callum straightened and strode to his horse. He removed the canteen from the saddle horn and poured some of the water over his face and hands. His stomach looked like a washboard and Banner had trouble not staring at those proud muscles. He motioned for her to come closer.

She looked down at the smears of fluid and fecal matter dotting the coat and winced. “I’m filthy and I stink.”

Callum lifted one dark brow. “That’s okay. It’s all part of ranching.” He unknotted the rope at the cuffs, his gaze returning again and again to her face as if he were reading something there. He pinched the shoulders of the coat and slid it off and down her arms, slowly and carefully so as not to transfer any more of the muck onto her clothes. He rolled the coat up and stuffed it into his saddle bag. “I’ll wash it off when I get back to the house.”

“Leave it with me and I’ll clean it for you.”

He shook his head. “Hold out your hands.”

She did and he poured water over them as she rubbed them to get as much of the stinky stuff off them as possible. The smell still clung to her, though, but she knew she could get rid of it with a bar of Mary’s good-smelling soap. The woman not only made great tooth paste, she also made lye soap with crushed lavender and rose petals in it.

Trying not to stare, she couldn’t manage to keep her gaze from flicking to Callum’s exposed torso. A light furring of black hair stretched across his chest and arrowed down to disappear under his wide, leather belt. Simply put, he looked magnificent and she knew the sight of him would fuel her dreams for weeks . . . no, months to come.