Wyoming Strong

“Time to feed the flying monkeys?”

She started to say something, bit her tongue instead and galloped away, red-faced.

* * *

GABRIEL DIDN’T LIKE parties as a rule, but there was always the one exception. Jacobsville had holiday events to benefit the local animal shelter. There was a dance at the civic center, and everybody attended. It was one of several throughout the year. This one was for spring.

Sara went with her brother. Michelle was coming home soon, but she’d had a job interview in San Antonio, and she wanted to stay there over the weekend in Sara’s apartment. So it was just Sara and Gabriel at the dance.

Sara let her hair fall naturally, thick and black and down to her waist in back. She wore an off-white ankle-length dress that complemented her soft, pale olive skin, while emphasizing her black eyes, her beauty. She wore only a string of pearls and stud earrings with it.

She looked exquisitely beautiful.

Wolf Patterson hated her on sight in that dress. He remembered Ysera wearing one like it when they went nightclubbing in Berlin. At the end of the evening, he’d removed it. Ysera had vamped him, seduced him, whispered how much she loved him, how much she wanted him. Then she’d ridiculed him, laughed at him, made him feel like a fool.

Sara caught that expression on his face and couldn’t understand it. She averted her eyes and smiled at an elderly cattleman who seemed to have come to the benefit alone.

“Pretty young woman like you shouldn’t be hanging out with an outlaw like me,” he teased. “You should get out there and dance.”

She smiled sadly as she nursed a soft drink. “I don’t dance.” She did, but she couldn’t abide being that close to a man. Not anymore.

“Now that’s a pity. You should get our police chief to teach you.” He chuckled, indicating Cash Grier, who was out on the dance floor with his beautiful redheaded wife, Tippy, doing a masterful waltz.

“I’d just trip over my feet and kill somebody.” Sara laughed softly.

“Hi, Sara,” one of Eb Scott’s men called to her. She knew him. Gabriel had invited him to the house a couple of times. He was tall and dark, very handsome, with flashing green eyes. “How about dancing with me?”

“Sorry,” she declined with a smile. “I don’t dance...”

“That’s silly. I can teach you. Here.” He took the soft drink away and caught her hand.

She reacted badly. She jerked back, flushed. “Ted, don’t,” she said in a curt undertone, tugging at her hand.

He’d had at least one drink too many. He didn’t realize what he was doing to her. “Oh, come on, it’s just a dance!”

Wolf Patterson caught him by the collar and almost threw him away from Sara.

“She said she didn’t want to dance,” he told the man, and his posture was dangerous enough to sober the other man up. Fortunately, they were in an alcove, and they didn’t draw attention. Sara was embarrassed enough already.

“Gosh. Sorry, Sara,” Ted told her, flustered, as he glanced at Wolf Patterson, whose eyes were glittering like fresh ice.

“It’s okay,” she said in a husky undertone. But her hands were shaking.

Ted grimaced, nodded at Wolf and made himself scarce.

Sara swallowed, then swallowed again. She was shaking. Any sort of aggression from a man, even slight, was enough to set her off.

“Come with me,” Wolf said quietly. He stood aside, indicating the side door.

She followed him out into the night. It was cold, and her coat was in the hall with all the others.

Wolf took off his jacket and slid it over her soft, bare shoulders. It was warm from his body. It smelled of masculine spice.

“You’ll get cold,” she protested.

He stuck his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “I don’t feel the cold much.”

They stared out over the long pasture that led to a wooded area around the community center. The night was quiet, except for the distant sound of dogs howling. There was a crescent moon that gave just enough light to let them see each other.

“Thanks,” she bit off, not looking at him.

He drew in a long breath. “He was drinking. He’ll apologize the next time he sees you.”

“Yes.”

“You have some real issues with men,” he said after a minute.

“No, I...”

He turned quickly toward her. She jerked backward helplessly.

He laughed coldly. “No?”

She bit her lower lip and lowered her eyes. “You think you can get over things,” she said in a dull tone. “But the past is portable. You can’t run from it, no matter how fast you go, how far you go.”

“You can cash checks on that,” he agreed bitterly.

“I’m sorry I set you off, at the house,” she began.

“You remind me of her,” he bit off. “She was beautiful, too. Brunette, black eyes, olive complexion. In the right light...” He hesitated. “Do I remind you of the man who hurt you?” he asked abruptly.

“He was blond,” she said unsteadily.

“I see.”

She closed her eyes.

“Gabriel won’t tell me a damned thing about you.”

“We’re even. He won’t tell me about you, either.”

He managed a faint laugh. “Curious about me, are you?”

“Not...that way,” she said under her breath.

“Really?” He turned and moved just a step closer. “You were kissing me back in the pasture.”

She flushed. “You caught me...off guard.”