The Mavericks (34 page)

“He could have shot you.”

“Hell, I've been shot so many times I've lost count.”

“Nobody's ever tried to protect me before.”

He didn't know what kind of men she'd been around all her life.

“Suzette told me I was wrong about you, but I wouldn't believe her. I didn't
want
to believe her.”

“Why?” It was crazy to want to believe everybody was out to hurt you. It must have made her very unhappy. She certainly looked miserable now, as if she would rather be anywhere else in the world than here talking to him. Her gaze kept shifting away from him, then coming back, only to shift away again. If he was
as kind and thoughtful as she said, he'd let her go to bed. It was obviously torture for her to think of a reply that wouldn't hurt his feelings.

“If I believed her, I'd have to admit I liked you. And if I admitted that, I'd have to admit I liked you far more than I wanted to.”

“You like me!”

“I just said I did.”

“A lot?” The words came out unbidden. He wasn't sure he had any thoughts in his head, just feelings, desires, and desperate hope.

She dropped her gaze. “Yes.”

He thought his heart would stop beating. No, it was beating so fast he felt light-headed. First he couldn't breathe. Then he was breathing so rapidly he could hear it. “I don't believe you.”

She looked up at him. “What can I do to prove it?”

He clamped his lips together to keep the answers stacked up like a logjam from pouring out. He reached out and gripped her hands. She resisted at first, then slowly allowed him to draw her closer. “You could let me kiss you. I've been wanting to do that ever since I saw you.”

He felt her tense, saw the fear in her eyes, but she didn't pull away. He brought her closer, slipped his arms around her waist. She was nothing like the angry and defiant young woman he'd met days ago. Now she appeared uncertain, vulnerable, frightened. In that moment he knew he could hurt her very much.

“I don't want to do anything to frighten you.”

“You're not.”

The terror in her eyes showed she didn't believe her own words. She had opened herself to a man for the
first time, and she was afraid. Zeke pulled her to him. She stayed rigid for a moment before relaxing and slipping her arms around his waist. He told himself he could be happy if he could just hold her like this for the rest of the night, but he knew this wasn't nearly enough. Having come this far, it was impossible to stop, unthinkable to pull back.

“Look up at me,” he said.

She was slow to respond. When she did, he could see the uncertainty in her gaze. “I'm going to kiss you. If you want me to stop, just tell me.”

She didn't move; her gaze didn't waver. Taking his courage in his hands, Zeke lowered his head and kissed her. He knew immediately she'd never been kissed before. It seemed incredible, but she didn't know what to do. She simply stood there letting him kiss her, waiting for him to tell her what to do next.

“You have to help,” he said softly. “It's not as much fun if I do all the work.”

Josie felt as though her body were frozen, locked in place, unable to move. She didn't know if she wanted Zeke to kiss her, but she hadn't been able to tell him to stop. Fear of what this could lead to stampeded through her brain like a runaway steer. She might have pulled back at the last minute if it hadn't felt so wonderful to be in his arms. That was what had disarmed her, had enabled her to slip past the panic long enough to lean against him and put her arms around him. She'd never touched any man or allowed a man to touch her this way. She'd always been certain she didn't want it, would hate it, that it would lead to pain. Then Zeke kissed her, and it was wonderful.

Josie had never felt like this before. Not that she could have said
how
she felt. It was crazy, as it every part of her was trying to overdose on sensations at
once. She was in an uproar, unable to move, to think, to react. She just
was
.

“Sorry. I didn't know you'd dislike it that much.”

She could barely think, but she could feel Zeke pull away. “I don't dislike it,” she managed to say.

“Why didn't you kiss me back?”

How could she explain that she didn't know what to expect, that her reaction had been so overpowering she'd been unable to do anything but stand like a statue? “I didn't know what to do.”

“You've never been kissed before, have you?”

She shook her head.

She didn't understand Zeke's smile.

“How ironic. Average-looking girls get kissed every day. Even the ugly ones manage it from time to time. Yet the most beautiful woman I've ever seen has never once been kissed. Want to try again?”

She nodded. How could he ask that question when she was holding his arms in a viselike grip?

“I'm not going to do all the work.”

He didn't understand that she was still so overcome she had virtually no control over her mind or her body. Surely he could tell by the fact that she hadn't let go of him, by the way she looked at him, that she wanted him to kiss her again. When she tightened her grip on his arms and pulled him closer, Zeke bent down and kissed her again.

She could hardly believe this big, rough man's lips could be so soft, his kiss so gentle. She could feel the strength in the arms holding her, the power in the thighs pressed against her, but his kiss was as soft as a spring breeze. There was nothing here to fear, nothing to hurt her. No threat. Only an invitation. She moved
her mouth against his lips. The response was so immediate, so powerful, it momentarily frightened her. Then she understood it was a sign he wanted her, not that he intended to force her to do anything against her will.

Her confidence restored and her need of him increasing with dizzying rapidity, she rose on her toes to kiss him harder, to pull him against her. It wasn't something she thought about. It just happened. So did the desire to have him do more than just kiss her lips. She wanted to experience all of him. She wanted to—

The sound of the door opening caused Zeke to break the kiss and step back. She stood there unable to move, feeling as if part of her body had been snatched away. Suzette had entered the house and was looking from Josie to Zeke. Her expression of stunned surprise said she knew what she'd interrupted. Her flushed cheeks said she was embarrassed but glad.

“Dusky Lady is having her foal,” Suzette said to Zeke.

“Is she down yet?”

“Yes.”

Josie felt she was dreaming or in some sort of trance. One moment she was in Zeke's arms, being kissed, awakening parts of herself she'd closed off and sealed up years ago. The next she was standing here, too stunned to move, while Zeke and Suzette discussed Dusky Lady's foaling. Her world had been shaken up, turned upside down, and spilled out in disorder and confusion, and they were acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“Hawk said to bring something to clean the foal,” Suzette said.

“Come with us,” Zeke said to Josie. It was a request, not a command.

After what she'd just experienced, Josie couldn't imagine anything less appealing than kneeling in the dirt while being confronted with the blood and gore of birth. Yet she didn't hesitate to head to the kitchen and collect several cloths. She was certain she had taken leave of her senses, that her body was being directed by external forces, but it was like being back on the farm again. Patterns of activity learned and established long ago took over.

The mare was on the ground when they arrived. “Her labor has started,” Hawk said. “It won't take long.”

Zeke moved to the mare's head to calm her while Hawk prepared for the delivery of the foal. Suzette held a lantern aloft, and Josie stood ready with the towels. It was an odd gathering in the open desert under the light of the moon, odd because so many humans had gathered to assist in an event that mares had been handling alone for millions of years. Yet, despite the number of times it had been repeated, the miracle of birth never failed to work its magic, to raise spirits and instill hope.

Josie felt she, too, had been given the promise of new life—but did she have the courage to accept it? For years she'd been mortally afraid of what Zeke offered. She was comfortable in her life. She understood its challenges and its limitations. Did she dare consider exchanging the familiar for something so new and dangerous, something she couldn't yet understand?

“It's coming,” Hawk said.

Josie looked down to see two small hooves protruding from the mare. They had torn through a milky-colored sack that was still stuck to the foal's hocks.
The mare's body heaved, and the foal's head appeared between her hooves.

“It's going to be an easy birth,” Hawk said.

Josie didn't have the same feeling for the mares the others had, but she instantly bonded with the beautifully delicate head of the foal. Even though she'd seen the birth of new life many times before, it stirred something deep within her.

The mare gave another push, and the foal's shoulders and hips were free of the womb. Taking hold of the foal, Hawk pulled its hind legs free.

“It's a filly,” he said.

“She's beautiful,” Suzette added, her voice filled with awe.

When Dusky Lady didn't immediately get to her feet, Hawk reached for one of the cloths Josie held.

“I can do it.” Josie knelt down by the foal, which stared up at her with huge, trusting brown eyes. After she made sure the foal's nostrils were clear, she began to rub its body to encourage circulation.

“She's perfect, absolutely beautiful,” Suzette said, “but she's so small.”

“That's because, as you predicted, she's a twin,” Hawk said.

“How do you know?” Josie asked.

“From the size of her belly.” Hawk rubbed Dusky Lady's distended abdomen. “You can tell she's got one more in there.” He picked up the filly and moved her so she wouldn't be in the way of the second birth.

Josie removed all remnants of the birth sack but continued to rub the filly dry with the soft cloth. She was awed by the tiny, delicate bones of her legs, by the beauty of her head, the symmetry of her body, but it was
the filly's eyes that mesmerized her. It was almost as though the filly thought Josie was her mother and had immediately bonded with her. Josie felt as if this were her horse, that there was a connection between them.

“The other one is coming,” Hawk warned.

The second birth was faster than the first. Hawk had hardly announced that the birth had begun when a second filly, identical to the first, slipped free of her mother's womb. Suzette picked up a cloth and started to clean the foal and rub her dry. As soon as she'd rid herself of the afterbirth, the mare lunged to her feet with a whinny of what was certainly pride as well as triumph. She immediately started licking the second foal.

“We can leave them to their mother now,” Hawk said.

The two women turned to him in unison. “They're not even standing yet,” Suzette pointed out.

“Can she take care of two foals?” Josie asked.

“She's not a new mother,” Hawk said. “Twins are unusual, but a healthy mare can take care of them.”

“But they're so small,” Suzette said. “We can't leave them out here.”

“A coyote might try to kill them.” Josie couldn't turn her back on the trust in those big brown eyes.

“Dusky Lady is more than a match for any coyote.”

“They hunt in pairs, sometimes in packs,” Josie said. “She couldn't defend both fillies if that happened.”

Hawk looked at Zeke. “What do you think we ought to do?”

Zeke looked at Josie, who was now sitting on the ground with the foal's head in her lap. “That's up to Josie and Suzette.”

“We'll stay until they stand and nurse,” Suzette said. “After that, we can decide what to do next.”

Josie felt almost jealous when Dusky Lady came to claim the foal in her lap. She knew the mare and foals had to bond, but she felt as if the filly belonged to her. She had to force herself not to shoo the mare away.

The next half hour was one of the most rewarding Josie had ever spent. She and Suzette continued to stimulate the foals by rubbing them gently, while Dusky Lady moved back and forth from one to the other, licking each with her rough, powerful tongue. All too soon, Josie's filly began to struggle to her feet. The first effort ended before she got one leg under her.

“Let her do it by herself,” Hawk said when Josie rose to help her. “She won't always have you to do things for her.”

Josie hated it when the filly tried to stand and fell. She was certain Suzette felt the same as they watched both fillies get one, two, three, and finally four legs under them. It was fun to watch them stagger about on long, spindly legs that didn't yet have the muscle tone to support their tiny bodies. Yet it was sad, because their success meant they didn't need Josie and Suzette anymore. With a little help from Hawk and Zeke, the two fillies found their mother's teats and began to nurse.

“How will you tell them apart?” Suzette asked. “They're identical.”

“We don't have to worry about that.”

“Of course you do,” Josie said. “I want to know which is my filly.”

Her filly was on the mare's right flank. Okay, it was silly to talk about
her
filly, but she had already bonded to the little creature. “I think we ought to mark them.”

“How?” Hawk asked.

“I have an idea.” Grinning, Zeke took out his pocket
knife and opened it. “I'll carve a J in Josie's filly's hoof and an S in Suzette's.”

Josie started to object even though she knew it wouldn't hurt. The fillies didn't stop nursing while Zeke carved the initials in their hooves.