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Bruno's Belligerent Beauty (Tales From Biders Clump Book 3) Page 3
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Page 3
“Ya, see ain’t no one nor nothin’ here,” he said, walking in and heading for a table that sat on the far side of the room. “Only people who know about this place is shepherds like me and the occasional cowpoke that got his-self stuck out in the snow.”
With agile fingers, he struck a match, illuminating the oil lamp and lighting it in one smooth action.
“You find us some grub and some blankets while I put Smoke in the lean-to out back.” He turned on his heel and hurried out the still open door before she could protest.
Moments later Bruno stripped the saddle from Smoke, hung it on a peg in the lean-to and checked the horse over for any injury.
“It’s gonna be tough holed up in this here cabin with Janine in the mood she’s in,” he complained to the horse, and then mentally kicked himself for it.
He had been beside himself with worry over Janine’s abduction. How could he expect her to be anything but traumatized by the event?
Patting his pony one more time before leaving, he reminded himself that he would have to be patient, understanding and that once they got back to Biders Clump, her pa would be so grateful for her rescue that he would surely grant his blessing to Bruno finally courting Janine.
Chapter 3
“Your Ma wants to see you, Sara,” Harlan called, blowing his nose on a large handkerchief as he stepped into the noisy kitchen.
His eyes landed on his son, who flinched, where he sat holding the hand of the pretty Adams girl.
“I’m going too,” the young man offered, setting his jaw.
“Well come on, then,” Harlan beckoned, turning and stomping back down the hall.
“How is she?” Sara asked the doctor, who was exiting her mother’s room.
“She’s pretty banged up,” Dr. Walker said with a half-smile, “but I think she’ll be alright with some rest and maybe not so much excitement.” He looked between Sara and Rafe, who were clinging to each other.
“Mama?” Sara’s voice was hesitant as she stood by the bed.
Maud turned red-rimmed eyes to her youngest daughter. “Sara how long has this been going on?” she asked patiently.
“Since Christmas,” Sara replied honestly.
“And how far has it gone?” Maud’s eyes held no judgment, only a flicker of worry.
Sara blushed pink and dropped her eyes. “Rafe may have kissed me once or twice,” she admitted.
Rafe did not flinch but met Mrs. Adam’s eyes boldly. “I love your daughter very much.” He admitted, “I’d never do anything to bring her shame or cause her pain.”
Maud studied Rafe, whose hand had come to rest on Sara’s shoulder. He was a handsome man, his sandy hair and clear brown eyes set in a strong face, reminding her of a more refined Harlan.
“And what are your intentions, young man?” Maud’s voice was steady.
From her blouse, Sara pulled a long silver chain, a small bright gold ring dangling from it.
“I gave Sara that ring as a promise on Christmas Eve more than a year ago,” Rafe spoke, and I’d make it a wedding ring today if I could.”
Behind him, Rafe’s father cleared his throat and ran a hand over his chin but didn’t speak.
“Will you leave us for a minute please?” Maud looked first at Rafe and then Harlan.
“Come on son, leave the women to talk.” Harlan’s voice was a reasonable purr.
Maud Adams held out her hand to her youngest daughter, the girl who always wanted to be outside, who climbed trees, and who made the most delectable confections.
“Sara,” she began, taking Sara’s hand in hers. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her eyes held a measure of hurt that tugged at the young woman’s heart.
“Because of how you and Mr. Dixon feel about each other,” she sniffed. “We wanted to, well, to fix things if we could first. The two of you couldn’t even be in the same room until today without a row.”
A soft smile graced Maud’s face and she squeezed Sara’s hand. “Honey, it’s not your job to pay for the mistakes of your folks. I truly wish you would have told me.”
“I’m sorry, Mama,” Sara sniffed, dabbing at her eyes. “I didn’t mean to deceive you.”
“We’ll deal with that later,” Maud chuffed. “Do you love him, Sara?”
“Oh yes, Mama,” Sara said, her eyes taking on a different light, a twinkle that shone from her heart.
“Then you have my blessing to have him call on you,” Maud said, squeezing her baby’s hand, “but there will be no more kissing, “she added firmly.
“Yes, Mama,” Sara replied, joy and disappointment battling in her heart.
“Go tell him now and asked Harlan to step back in, please,” Maud finished, shooing her away with a wave of her hand.
***
“What did she say?” Rafe asked, taking Sara’s hand and pulling her into the doctor’s small parlor.
“She said you could call,” Sara said brightly, grinning up at him.
Rafe’s face split into a grin and he leaned toward her but she danced away.
“She also said no more kissing,” she added, dropping her eyes.
Rafe blinked at her a moment, then pulled himself together. He had gotten too used to kissing his girl.
“What about your pa?” Sara asked, studying his face.
“He said I had his blessing,” Rafe said, running a calloused hand through his short-cropped hair. “I thought he was gonna blow up, but he shook my hand and said he hoped that at least one of us could be happy.”
“I don’t understand,” Sara said.
“Neither do I, darlin’,” Rafe replied, shaking his head, “but I don’t plan on wasting any more time trying to understand the problems between my pa and your ma. Instead I’m gonna put all my effort into courting the love of my life and convincing her mother to let us marry as soon as possible.” His grin reached all the way to his eyes and without warning, he pulled her into his arms, squeezing her tight.
Sara laughed against Rafe’s chest, feeling happier than she ever thought she could.
“That will be enough of that.” Aquila walked around the corner, trailed by her husband Cameron Royal. “I’m implementing the six-inch rule until Mama’s up and around to keep an eye on you two.”
Sara stepped away from Rafe, wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at her sister. “Mama said Rafe could come to call,” she chivvied.
“She also said no more kissing, didn’t she?” Quil asked archly.
Sara had the decency to blush.
“Rafe, I’m headed back to the ranch to tend the stock; would you ride along with me?” Cameron turned his hazel gaze on the other man, offering him a way to escape.
“I think that’s a pretty good idea,” Rafe agreed. “I’ll be over to see you as soon as your mother’s up and around,” he said, squeezing Sara’s arm as he followed the dark-haired cowboy out the door.
***
Rafe’s big spotted Appaloosa, Chester, pranced under him, chomping at the bit as if he too were excited about the recent revelation.
Rafe reined in the horse, setting his pace to match that of the ginger brown horse with the yellow mane.
“You really care about Sara, don’t you?” Cameron Royal asked as they moved out of town.
“I love her,” Rafe answered, his rich voice full of affection.
“You know her family’s had an awful rough time of it the past few years?” Cam spoke again.
“I understand more than most, I think.” Rafe replied remembering that first Christmas, when he had realized he loved Sara. “I just hope my pa can be civil about the whole thing.” He reached up under his hat and scratched his brow. “He’s actin’ kinda strange right now.”
“Some folks might not agree with me, but I think it’s a good thing you and Sara have had some time to get to know each other this past year.” Cameron’s dark hazel eyes were steady on Rafe. “Me and the fellas at the Rocking A are mighty fond of that little girl.”
Rafe scowled and Cheste
r sidestepped a bit, feeling his rider’s agitation. “Well, I’m a sight more than fond of her and I’ll marry her as soon as her Ma says I can.” His voice was gruff, defensive and his eyes glinted.
“I’m not accusin’ you of anything, Rafe; I’m just warning you is all. The day I married Quil the hands at the ranch had a little talk with me.” Cam scratched as his throat distractedly. “I think you should know they might feel obliged to do the same with you.”
Rafe raised a pale brow. “Was Rock involved in that little talk?” he asked.
“Yep.”
Rafe ran a hand over his face. “Well I’m not gonna hurt Sara and I haven’t done anything wrong, so I won’t worry about that,” he said, a tiny shiver running down his spine. He did not relish the idea of disappointing the big man that was built more like a boulder than any rock he had ever seen.
Cameron Royal smiled. “I think you’ll do,” he said, offering his hand across Ginger Snap’s saddle horn. “How about some help with the chores at the Rocking A, and then you can come calling in a day or two?”
Rafe shook the proffered hand soundly. “I think you and I are gonna get along as brothers-in-law,” he added with a grin.
Chapter 4
Bruno stepped into the line shack, rubbing his hands to warm them, but stopped short just inside the door.
“Why are you sitting there?” he asked. “I thought you’d have found us something to eat.” Stomping the accumulation of snow from his boots, he moved across the room.
“I don’t know where to find it.”
“Did you look?” despite himself Bruno felt a little annoyed, but thought about the ordeal the girl had been through and let it go.
“It’s so cold,” Janine fussed, shrugging her coat close around her. “Can’t we make a fire?”
Pulling a tin of beans out of a box on a shelf, the lean young shepherd placed it on the stove and reached for the wood stacked near the slightly rusted appliance, but his hand froze above the first stick as Polly Esther’s voice echoed in his ears.
"We better not have a fire,” he said, turning his blue gaze on Janine, “I have to keep you safe, you see.” He turned, carrying the beans with him. “If we start a fire the outlaws might see the smoke and then what would I do?”
“Oh,” Janine mused, “I don’t think I’d like those nasty men to find us.”
“Of course, not,” Bruno smiled. Even now, all he wanted to do was pull her to him and hold her tight. “Are you alright?” he finally asked.
“I’m not really hurt, if that’s what you mean, but I wish I was home in my nice warm house with my pa. I hope he’s alright,” she added as an afterthought, scowling slightly.
Carefully Bruno pulled a large knife from a scabbard on his belt and thumped it into the tin, then began rocking the blade back and forth, cutting the top off in a ragged circle.
“I am hungry,” Janine chimed as the lid came off with a pop.
Bruno lifted a scoop of beans on his knife blade and nibbled them carefully. “I don’t think these beans is good enough for you Janine,” he said, his eyes serious. “I wouldn’t want you to get a belly-ache or anything.”
“But I’m hungry,” Janine scowled, crossing her arms and pushing her well-rounded bosom upward under her thick coat, in a very distracting manner.
“What would your pa say if I let you eat these here beans and then you got sick?” he scooped up another knife full of beans. “It’s better for you to not eat anything than to get sick, don’t you think?”
Janine scowled at Bruno. "Why are you being so mean?" she grumbled. "I'm hungry."
Bruno set the nearly empty tin of beans on the table and looked across at his companion. "Sweetheart, you ain't like me. You're sophisticated; I don't know what eatin' something like cold beans from a tin might do to you." His eyes were full of concern as he reached for her hand.
Janine still looked cross. "I don't like being hungry."
"I know Janine, but you're precious the way your pa always said and I can't risk you getting' sick. You'll only be hungry for a little bit."
He picked up the tin and scraped out the last of the beans with his knife. "Now why don't you go lay down and try to sleep?"
Grumbling the whole way, Janine walked to the stacked bunks on the far wall and peered down at the dusty blankets wrinkling her nose. "The bed is dirty."
"Well go shake the blanket," Bruno encouraged, shrugging his coat across his shoulders against the chill in the cabin.
"You do it," the young woman turned, her mussed red hair sticking out around her head like a halo, and Bruno almost caved.
"I can't do that," he replied in mock horror. "It wouldn’t be proper for me to make up a bed for a girl I ain't married to."
"But," Janine began, the dim light of the lamp dancing on her face, caressing the soft angles of pale skin. "I don't know how to do things like that," she finished.
Bruno swallowed down his desire to get up and kiss her. "I'll tell you what to do, how about that?" he asked innocently.
Once again, Janine folded her arms across her middle, giving her ample chest a nudge upward and Bruno stifled a groan. She was by far the most attractive woman he had ever known; she was pretty as a girl, but full grown, she was a knock out.
“I guess if I have to,” she pouted, sticking out the bottom half of very kissable lips. “What do I do?”
“First, take off the blanket.”
Janine tugged at the tucked in edges of the thick wool blanket with a very un-lady like grunt.
“Now what?”
“Take it outside and give it a good shake.”
Her bright golden eyes glared at him skeptically but she bundled the blanket and walked to the door.
“Oh, it’s snowing!” she exclaimed as she stepped onto the porch, leaving the door hanging open.
Patiently, Bruno rose to his feet and joined her on the tiny porch, pulling the door closed behind him.
Fat white flakes were falling silently from a black sky, and the young woman turned her head to smile at him, tiny crystals sparkling on her long lashes.
“Give the blanket a good shake,” he prompted his voice husky.
Turning, Janine took the blanket by the edges, giving it a snap so that it flapped into her face and she stumbled backwards into his arms, sputtering from the dust.
Janine faltered, twisting as she fell backwards into the warm solid form of Bruno. Blinking the dust out of her eyes, she looked up at him.
Bruno had been a persistent presence in her life for so long, she simply expected him to be there every time she turned around. His dark eyes looked at her the same as always, soft, concerned, but something else glinted there in the depths tonight, a hint of steel.
“You did that very well.” His smooth tenor vibrated through her as he set her away from him. “Are you ready for bed now?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, somehow lost in his eyes. “Will you show me what to do?”
“Yes.” Holding her by the elbow, Bruno walked back into the dim shack, guiding her to the bunk beds.
“Now all you have to do is put the blanket back on.”
“But there aren’t any sheets or anything.” Janine looked at the bed, puzzled.
“No, you’ll have to make do with that one blanket.”
Shock mingled with exhaustion on the young woman’s face.
“Put the blanket on the bed, Janine,” Bruno's voice was firm, “then try to sleep.”
With unsteady hands, she stretched the blanket across the heavy mat and tried to tuck in the edges, grunting at the effort of lifting a corner of the well-stuffed ticking.
“Ouch,” she grumbled, pulling her hand to her mouth as a tiny speck of blood seeped from a delicate finger.
“What did you do?” Bruno asked, taking the hand in his. Examining the prick of a splinter, he started rubbing her hand in his warm one, and then kissed the injury softly.
“You crawl in there now and try to sleep. I’ll keep an eye o
ut for them fellas in case they turn up.”
“You mean in all my clothes?” she gasped.
Bruno only chuckled and turned away to the table and the softly glowing light.
Several hours dragged by with Bruno drowsing in the chair, his feet propped on the table, while snow drifted to the earth. As the temperature took an obvious dip, he reached for his blanket on the top bunk, dusted it carefully, then spread it over Janine’s huddled form.
He had been cold before, one more night would not be the end of him, he thought as he sat down and propped his feet up again.
“Bruno, I’m hungry,” Janine’s voice was plaintive as it shocked him out of sleep, causing him to teeter on his chair.
“What?” he asked, his brain foggy.
“I’m hungry, and my belly’s growling.”
“Well, let’s take a look outside and see if we can start home.” He rose, shaking the cold and stiffness out of his legs as he headed for the door, opening it carefully.
The wall of white that met his eyes was stunning. It rose three feet up the frame of the door, bearing the imprints of the wooden slats in the packed white expanse.
“Oh my!” Janine exclaimed behind him.
“I think we’re pretty safe from them bank robbers,” Bruno said with a worried grin.
“But what will I eat?” Janine’s eyes were wide as Bruno closed the door, her statement punctuated by a loud rumble from her stomach.
“I’m afraid, darlin’, you’re gonna have to cook.”
Janine’s horror only seemed to increase. “I don’t know how.”
“You didn’t know how to make a bed last night either,” he replied encouragingly.
“You could cook,” she suggested hopefully.
“I’m not surviving bank robbers and a snow storm here in the mountains, only to get shot by your pa for poisonin’ you.” Bruno shook his head.
“I’ll start a fire,” he hesitated a moment before turning to the stove, “but you’ll have to help.”
Moments later, the two knelt before the little stove. Bruno held several long chunks of wood in his work-worn hands as Janine stacked bits of straw and twigs into a neat pile.