Almost a Cowboy (8 page)

She wrapped her arms around her middle. “Lonely? Maybe.”

He focused on the place where the road converged on the horizon. His chest tightened with the realization there might have been someone special in her life before he dive-bombed her at the bar—then at her house.

She did have a lot of condoms.

“Arial was the only thing in your life?”

She glanced at him. “Work, my ma, and Arial, yes.”

He had to ask, even though he already knew her ex was a jerk. “Your ex…”

She jerked and stiffened. Her spine was so tense he feared she might snap it. “He’s nothing.”

“Your reaction doesn’t seem like nothing.”

A blue eye glared at him through waves of hair. “I’m not talking about him.”

He blew out a breath, thankful but worried at once. “Fair enough.”

“He was a mistake, Utah. A huge mistake. After you left for college, I was wrecked.”

He swallowed a rising lump. “Know the feeling.”

“But you didn’t go off and get yourself hitched. Was there never anyone special to you?”

Considering her words took less than a second. “Nope.” He placed his hand on her thigh again and squeezed. “It was always you, Caroline.”

She released a pent-up breath and inched against his side once more.

“You were worried folks in town might say something about us being together, weren’t you?” He ran his knuckles toward her knee.

“A little bit. I’ve spent enough time kicking my own ass for bad decisions. I’ve had to suffer through everyone’s opinions on that as well.”

“No Coach Milton popping out of the drugstore aisles, telling us we’re screwing up our lives.”

She giggled. “I expected it, didn’t you?”

“Honestly, yes. Remember that Sunday when you showed up in church wearing my ring? God, I thought they’d find a reason to sacrifice us.” Half the congregation had practically stood in line to tell them how stupid they were, ask if Caroline was knocked up, and “remind” Utah of his talent at football.

“They weren’t right.” She shook her head hard and said it again, “
They weren’t right.
”

He applied pressure to her leg. “No. But we’re telling them now by being together.”

Caroline rested her head against his shoulder. “We’re giving them the finger.” She sounded cold, as if she wanted to do more than that. The tone worried him.

He didn’t want to believe she’d lost her innocence with some bastard ex-husband Utah had failed to save her from.

They were silent the rest of the way to the ranch. When they pulled up before the house, his brothers stepped onto the porch, looking like a pair of gunslingers, arms folded and legs braced wide.

Utah shoved out a breath. “Stay here.”

He climbed out of the truck, fists clenched and prepared to brawl.

“Looks like the prodigal son hasn’t run yet, after all.” Gunnison nudged his hat back enough to set his glare on Utah.

“Not runnin’. I have business to see to.” He approached his brothers slowly. Annoyance was a hot stone in his gut.

“Business with Mrs. Jeremy Robinson,” Clinton said, raising his chin toward the truck where Caroline sat.

His words rocked Utah’s control. He didn’t like hearing Caroline’s former name. The last person who’d told him her ex’s name had narrowly escaped with his teeth. When Utah returned following his ma’s death, a guy at the bar taunted him with this information. Utah had burned to put the man in the hospital, but instead he’d walked out without ever ordering a drink.

People had interfered in his life enough. When it came to Caroline, his brothers had better toe the line, or else.

Utah barreled right into Clinton’s space. “Her name’s Wilks again. You don’t got a problem with us being together. Your problem is with me.”

His brother didn’t so much as rock on his heels. “Where ya headed? Back to the mountains?”

“I have to do something for Pa.” He hated the way that sounded—as if he were doing something good, wrapping up loose ends for a deserving man.

“Saw the lawyer, didja?” Gunnison asked.

“Yep.”

“Gonna fill us in?”

“Nope.”

“You son of a bitch!” Gunnison lunged for him.

Utah sidestepped, and Gunnison crashed into the ground at his feet. Before he could think, his brother hooked an arm around Utah’s ankles and yanked. He lost his balance and crashed to the turf.

The sound of the truck door alerted him that Caroline was not staying put as told. Clinton’s boots appeared by Utah’s face as Gunnison scrambled up his body.

Rage exploded in Utah’s brain. He swung and caught Gunnison on the jaw, rocking his head. He shook himself like a dog with a nose full of porcupine quills and came at Utah harder.

Utah took a blow to the stomach that had him seeing red.

Caroline was screaming, her voice weaving with Clinton’s in a war of words.

“Bastards, what are you doing to him? He’s your blood!”

“He’s been warped by years alone. Can’t control himself.”

“Looks as if it’s you and Gunnison who can’t. Get off him!” The small thumps of Caroline’s boots on the ground roused Utah. He ripped an arm free of Gunnison’s hold and waved her away.

Then he shoved Gunnison off him enough to get a knee between them. The force of his knee was enough to punch the breath from his brother. “You goddamn, no good son of a whoremonger! You’re gonna pay for punching me in the stomach.”

“Whoremonger?” Clinton spat, squatting by his head. “You’re talking about our pa. The man
you
didn’t bother coming back to visit.”

“Utah, tell them!” Caroline cried.

He shot her a look that froze her expression. She plastered her hands to her mouth and stumbled back a few steps. Gunnison suddenly tightened his grip on Utah. Flipping in his hold, Utah scrambled to get out from under his brother.

Gunnison ground his knee into Utah’s back. With that blow to the kidney, instant pain shot through him. Nausea burned in his throat, and he started coughing around the bile.

“Get. Off.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Caroline rush Gunnison.

Christ, she was going to get herself killed. They’d all been raised to never lay a hand on a woman, but Gunnison had always been single-minded with purpose, like a bull with a red flag waved in front of him. He ran until someone physically stopped him.

Pushing himself to his hands and knees, Utah struggled to get to Caroline. “Don’t, baby. Go back to the truck.” He coughed as his stomach heaved. Christ, he was going to be sick.

No, damn them, they aren’t getting the better of me.

He lurched to his feet.

“Go on and run away. We’ll take care of the Davies family ranch, Utah,” Clinton drawled. “We don’t need you here—or want you, anyway.”

Utah caught Caroline as she threw herself into his arms. The impact made him grunt as pain ricocheted up his spine. His head spun. But anger burned the haze away.

He pointed a finger at Clinton, trying to hold it steady. “You don’t know our pa. When I come back, you’re gonna be in for a hard reckoning. Both of ya.”

Gunnison crawled to his feet, and Utah hammered down the urge to hurl himself at the man again.

“You probably have the settlement from the estate, and you’re about to skip town. Don’t bother comin’ back,” Clinton said.

“You don’t know what—” Caroline began, but Utah silenced her with a glance.

“That’s right. I’m a real evil bastard. I’ve spent ten years living on my own, surviving on the land, and relying on myself. To everyone, it looked as if I did the family wrong. But no one ever paused to consider the wrongs done to me—or to you sons a bitches. When this is over,” he looked between his brother’s angry faces, “you’re going to see just what I mean. In the meantime, I’m going to clean up this mess our pa left us. You two just go on being the assholes time has made you.”

He turned to lead Caroline back to the truck. Another wave of nausea hit him, but he swallowed it. No way would he puke in front of his kid brothers. Showing weakness meant the vultures would swoop in again.

“Oh God, Utah, are you all right?” Caroline’s voice cracked.

“Yeah. Just. Give me a minute.” He opened the door and put her inside, and then walked around to slowly climb behind the driver’s wheel. Before he gave in to the desire to rest his head against the steering wheel, he started the engine and drove down the lane.

Once he hit the main road, he felt improved. Caroline gaped at him.

“You all right, baby?” They hit a bump, and the motion jarred him enough to cause a wince.

“Yes, but you’re not.” Her voice wavered.

He snorted. “A little rumble like that can’t put me down. Until you’ve come out of your cabin, ridden through a record snowfall, stopping every hour to warm up and eat to stay alive in the cold, eventually to make it into town to sell furs, you can’t really call yourself tough. Then when you go for a beer, someone steals the furs you’ve fought so hard to bring.”

Caroline’s eyes widened, the blue depths watery.

He held up a fist. “I thought my knuckles would never heal. But no one ever fucked with me again.”

She didn’t respond. They hit the highway and headed east to Colorado, where they’d try to track down Aurora and Bennett. Utah’s brother and sister.

After half an hour, Caroline relaxed against his side, snuggling close.

Their journey had begun.

•●•

It took sixty miles of driving before Caroline could take a full breath. Seeing Utah and his brother fight had spurred too many memories of Jeremy.

She’d dragged his sorry ass away from more than one fight and even sprung him from jail twice.

I should have left him there.

Utah was obviously changed too. To her he’d always been rugged, but it was apparent he was now like aged oak, so hard you could barely hammer a nail into it.

That blow to the kidney should have had him pissing blood. When they stopped for gas forty-five minutes into their trip, and he returned from the restroom, she asked about it. He said he was fine.

He pulled a candy bar from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. “A peace offering,” he said, voice low.

With a start, she accepted her favorite candy. “Why?”

“I can see I’ve made you wary of me.”

She tried to set the brake on her pinwheeling emotions.

She was driving across the country with the boy—no, man—who’d once been her world. But his harsh words and ability to fight were flashing red lights in her mind. Utah was the guy who calmed everyone on the football field or stepped in during a fight in the school hallway. He was the peacemaker. Right?

To her, fearing this wilder side of him was natural.

He skimmed a fingertip along her jaw and down her throat. He rested it atop her pulse, which tripped faster. “I’m sorry about that scene at the ranch.”

“They were pretty ruthless with their opinion of you.”

He sighed and removed his finger. She felt the loss of his touch to the marrow of her bones. She wanted him to burn her up, make her forget everything but passion.

“Yeah, they obviously hold me in the highest regard. To them I live somewhere between the third and fourth circles of hell.”

She chuckled, easing a bit more. Being this close to him threaded new longing through her core. The sight of his shirt pulling so perfectly tight across his chest and biceps made her nipples pucker. A few minutes before, he’d sauntered into the convenience store, his tight buns taunting her. He looked just as good going as coming.

He looks amazing “coming.” That dark look in his eyes…

He put the truck into gear and rolled out onto the highway once more. The light was fading, the sky a myriad of pinks and purples like some fruity drink had exploded among the clouds.

“You need some money toward gas? I have plenty.”

He glanced at her, brows knitted. “I have enough.”

“Okay, I just thought…” She shut up before she blurted out that she believed him to be broke. Though his truck seemed to be in decent driving condition, it was old and had a lot of miles on it. His clothes were good enough, but worn and faded.

He switched on the headlights as they fell into the shadow of a mountain. “You thought because of the way I live that I don’t have money.”