Cowboys 08 - Luke (20 page)

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Authors: Leigh Greenwood

BOOK: Cowboys 08 - Luke
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That was the most frightening thought of all.

"You have to be careful going down," Luke warned. "It's easier for the horses to climb on loose rock than to descend."

He was relieved they had to travel single file. That way he didn't have to look directly at Valeria, to pretend nothing of any consequence had happened.

"My horse is surefooted," she replied.

She'd been snapping at him since they'd left the clearing. He couldn't blame her. He might have taught her a valuable lesson, but he had done it at the expense of her pride, and he wasn't unfeeling enough to think pride unimportant. Pride in his work, in his success, was all he had. He'd stopped wanting more. He had a terrible feeling Valeria had started him hoping again.

That would be the worst mistake of his life.

"He's an outstanding horse. So are the rest of your horses. I can see why you wanted to bring them with you." He kept talking, trying not to think, but it didn't work.

He couldn't forget one moment of what he'd done on that mountain top, what he'd made happen in his arrogant assumption that he knew what he was doing and had both himself and Valeria under control. He'd started out to frighten her a little, to make her aware she had to be more careful, less trusting, that she couldn't just head off on a long ride with a man she didn't know because she was bored. But his laudable intention of teaching her a lesson had turned into something quite different.

"I have more horses," she said. "Otto insisted I leave the mares in New Orleans. Several were about to drop their foals."

"How many did you bring?"

"Seventeen."

That was a perfect example of what he meant. No sensible woman would travel halfway around the world, burdened not only with incredible quantities of furniture and china, but with in-foal mares. And this was a woman he wanted to make love to.

Okay, it wasn't love. He'd never been in love. He couldn't love. He didn't want to love. But the emotions between him and Valeria were unlike anything he'd experienced with the dozens of women he'd known. He felt confused and he was never confused about anything. His feelings were always straightforward and uncomplicated.

Not this time.

"I hope you don't intend to hire me to bring the rest

of your belongings to Rudolf's ranch after you're married."

"I don't know what I'll do, but you can he certain I won't hire you to do it."

Good. He would have refused anyway, if she'd asked. "I don't know anything about Rudolf's house, but I doubt most of it will be suitable."

That was part of the problem.
He felt sorry for her.
She might be a silly, vain woman, but she was what the men around her had made her. Then they'd thrust her into a world she knew nothing about and left her to survive on her own. Isabelle and Drew could take care of themselves under just about any circumstances, but Jake would never have let them head off across several thousand miles alone. If he couldn't go himself, he'd have made sure at least two of the orphans went along.

Yet Valeria had been practically abandoned by an uncle who knew somebody was trying to kill her. For all he knew, her future husband was no better. Luke might not have any real feeling for his adopted brothers, but he'd never ignore somebody trying to kill them. He had a little honor left.

Maybe that was why he felt protective toward Valeria. "How much longer will it be before we reach Rudolf's ranch?" she asked.

"At least two weeks."

"Are you sure it won't be sooner?"

"It'll probably take longer."

That worried him more than it apparently worried Valeria. He'd started kissing her to prove a point. He'd kept kissing her because he wanted to. And not just because he wanted to make love to her. Because he wanted her
to want
to make love to him.

This wasn't just sex. That's what scared Luke.

A long time ago he'd decided he wasn't worth much.

His parents might still have been a little bit in love when they conceived Chet. But by the time they got around to Luke, they'd felt nothing but loathing and disgust for each other. It had spilled into their relationships with him. Not even Jake and Isabelle had been able to dissolve the feeling of worthlessness that had hardened and crystallized around his heart before he was able to think well enough to know what was happening.

That was why he'd become a professional gunman. It was the perfect profession for a man who felt nothing, wanted nothing, expected nothing. He was accustomed to living without love. He'd cut himself off from feelings.

Yet a tiny flicker of hope remained alive. Against all reason, Valeria's presence had caused that flicker to grow stronger. Valeria, of all people. She was as empty as he, a pretty, decorative vessel representing an outmoded way of life. She saw the rest of the world only as it related to her. Such a woman could never truly love anyone, certainly not anyone like Luke. They were too much alike, each taking, using, and casting aside.

"Do you plan to bring your horses to the ranch?" Luke asked. He had to do something to keep from thinking.

"Yes. I was hoping to breed them for sale."

"They're too light-boned for ranch work. You need something like my horse."

"I realize that. I'm planning to look around for suitable stock to mate with my animals. Maybe I'll start a new breed."

"Don't you mean
your husband will
start a new breed?"

"Rudolf has no interest in horses. I've planned the coatings of every horse I brought with me."

Luke wasn't sure he believed that. Other than wanting to ride, she hadn't shown an overwhelming interest in her horses. He supposed it was different when you were a princess. You didn't muck out stalls, shoes horses, deliver foals, make poultices. Servants did all that. All the more reason for him to snuff out that foolish flicker of feeling as quickly as possible.

He'd always been a sensible man, able to think and act rationally in any situation. But he had begun to worry that he couldn't control himself when it came to Valeria. He ought to make sure he wasn't around her any more than necessary. If he wasn't careful, he would do something very stupid.

Worse, the drivers would know he'd done something stupid, and he couldn't stand that. He had to maintain the upper hand. He couldn't be vulnerable. That would threaten his position, and he couldn't allow anything to do that, especially not Valeria. He shuddered at the thought of people's reaction to the news that flint-hearted Luke Attmore had fallen in love with a princess. Men would laugh over their whiskey in fifteen states and territories. They'd trade versions at every bar and saloon in the West. They'd stop each other on trails to exchange the news for extra laughs.

No, he had to stay away from Valeria, and he had to start tonight.

Valeria was thoroughly irritated. She'd spent half the night awake, thinking about what had happened between her and Luke on that mountain. It hadn't taken long to stop blaming everything on Luke. He'd chosen a very crude method to illustrate the dangers of her new world, but it was her feelings about the kiss that kept her awake.

Something beyond good looks and physical attraction, though they were dangerous enough, fascinated her about Luke Attmore, and she had to find out why. She had gotten up early, had her breakfast before Otto and Hans had emerged from their tents, and supervised the saddling of one of her horses. She meant to ride with Luke today. She intended to keep riding with him until she figured out what it was about him that appealed to her so strongly.

"Luke rode out an hour ago," Zeke had just told her. "He's switching jobs with Hawk."

"What job?" she'd asked.

"Hawk usually rides ahead, checking out the trail, looking for a good spot to camp, keeping a lookout for danger."

"But Luke promised not to leave my side."

"He figures I'm just as good," Zeke had said.

He might be, but he wasn't Luke, and that was all that mattered.

"You sure you don't want to ride in the coach?" Zeke asked about every fifteen minutes. He refused to ride next to her. Every time she tried to come abreast with him, he spurred his horse forward. She'd accepted that she'd have to talk to his back if she wanted to talk to him at all. They were riding in the middle of the caravan, her coach in front of them. He rode about a dozen feet off to the side to avoid the dust kicked up by the mules' hooves. It had rained a little during the night, but not enough to keep the dust down.

"I'm quite sure," Valeria replied. "If I'm going to die of the heat, I don't want to do it closed up inside that coach. It's too much like a coffin."

"Nobody ever died of the heat who acted sensible."

Her clothes were too hot, but at least she had a hat with a brim wide enough to keep the sun from beating directly down on her.

"I'm trying to learn to act sensibly," she said, "but it'll take a while."

"Maybe you should have stayed where you were."

Zeke disliked her and everything she represented more even than Luke. She'd never considered herself or her family evil, but nearly everybody in America acted as though they were criminals.

"I had no a choice," she said. "My countrymen decided they didn't want us around anymore."

"We don't want you around either."

"You can get rid of me by going back to Bonner," she snapped.

He looked around at her, his big black eyes a little wider than usual. "You learning to snap?" "If I don't, I'll get trampled."

"Your kind will get trampled anyway."

She didn't need to ask what he meant
by your kind.
She'd heard more than enough of his opinion of women, especially white women, most particularly European white women. "I intend to learn everything I can so I won't get trampled," she said. "I wanted to talk to Luke about that today."

"If you're counting on Luke to bring you up to the mark, you'll wait a long time."

"Why? He's lived here all his life. He knows the country better than anyone else."

"Even me?"

"Even you."

She had no idea what Zeke knew, but she was tired of his bullying.

"I can tell you anything he can," Zeke said. "Will you?"

"No."

"That's why I want to talk to Luke."

"Luke doesn't like women like you."

She wondered what Zeke would say if he knew what had happened yesterday. She couldn't be certain Luke felt anything more for her than physical attraction and mild interest, but he did feel something. And if her intuition tuition was right, that interest was behind his decision to change jobs with Hawk.

"Maybe I should talk with Hawk."

"He won't say anything. Hawk hates white women, too."

"I thought his mother was a white woman."

"He doesn't hate his mother."

"Since neither you nor Hawk will talk to me, I suppose I'll have to ask the drivers."

"Luke won't let you talk to the drivers." "Since he's not here, he can't stop me." "I'll stop you for him."

She didn't know any of the drivers well enough to feel comfortable asking them questions, but it angered her that Luke and Zeke thought they could stop her from talking to anybody. "I suppose there's a reason for this." "You'll have to ask Luke."

At that moment she saw a rider top a ridge several miles ahead.

"I think I will," she said and put her horse into a gallop.

Zeke shouted and started after her, but she was riding her favorite thoroughbred today. There wasn't a horse in Arizona that could keep up with him once he reached full stride. She just hoped he didn't stumble on the rough terrain.

And she hoped the man in the distance was Luke.

Chapter Thirteen

 

An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of Luke's stomach when he saw a rider galloping toward him. He couldn't think of any reason for Zeke or Hawk to leave the wagons unless something had gone wrong. But he'd heard no gunfire, seen no signs that anyone had been in the area since the rain.

It didn't take long before he knew the rider was neither Hawk nor Zeke. That enormous hat indicated a woman, and no one but Valeria would be foolish enough to ride a horse at a gallop over unfamiliar ground.

He'd planned to stay away from the wagons, but he waited for her. Obviously Zeke couldn't control her. He smiled when he saw Zeke's horse falling steadily farther behind. It had been bred to work cows and couldn't match the sustained speed or stamina of a thoroughbred. He was certain Valeria knew that, too.

Luke wasn't fool enough to try to deny the pleasure that surged through him. If you didn't like something, you faced it and dealt with it. If you couldn't conquer it, you made a compromise. At this point he planned to conquer it. He liked compromise only slightly less than defeat.

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