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. Have it your way. Sure you’re all right?”
“Positive.” She snapped the reins. “Goodbye, Mr. Gray.”
To his credit, Bad Boy moved forward, leaving Nick in a wake of dust. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the outline of him through the chalky cloud—lean and wide, all man.
She couldn’t help longing just a little. It mortified her to think that she still hid a yearning for him after ten long years. Time had changed her, drawn lines on her face and given her a shield around her heart. But inside she was still that young woman who wanted to believe in love. In possibilities. Who dared to wish that the handsome, dashing Nick Gray would fall in love with her.
But he would choose another.
It doesn’t matter. It’s all in the past. She tried to be sensible. She was no daydreaming child, so why did she feel the same as she had so long ago? Because when Nick looked at her, he probably saw what everyone else did. A cold, hard-hearted woman who’d never been courted.
Not once.
Bad Boy drifted to a halt in the middle of the road and she didn’t have the strength to scold him. She reached under the seat and found the gunnysack by feel.
“Mariah.” A broad warm hand lighted on her shoulder.
She jumped. An apple shot from her grip and rolled across the wagon floor. Why couldn’t he just leave her be?
Nick’s shadow fell across her, towering between her and the sun. “That was a real fight you put up. You have the right to be shaken up.”
“Me? Those coyotes didn’t want me. They wanted your daughter.”
“I know, Mariah, and like I said, I’m obliged to you.”
“You should have been watching her. You left her alone and she wasn’t safe. Georgie could have been killed.” She realized his hand was still on her shoulder, hot and comforting, and she shrugged away, breaking the connection. “What kind of father are you?”
“One who isn’t going to let that happen again.”
“See that you don’t.” She snapped the reins again, and this time Bad Boy moved, slow and stubborn.
“Your ox could use some training.” Nick rode past her to take the animal by the yoke and speed up his gait. “I’d be happy to work with him. Don’t know what else to offer you for rescuing Georgie like that.”
“I don’t want anything from you. That isn’t why I helped your little girl. Anyone passing by would have done the same.”
“Either way, you still need help with this ox.”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“So, you don’t want my help. That’s nothing new.” Bad Boy slowed down and Nick gave a hard tug on the yoke. “The trouble with you, Miss Scott, is that the rumors are true.”
Rumors? What rumors? Fury rolled through her, hot and fierce. See what came from