Luke's Cut

As a child, she’d thought her cousins were blessed with good fortune, but as they’d matured, she’d watched their dreams, one by one, be pushed to the back burner. And then she’d watched the fire under the burner go out. As they’d married, they’d settled down in little homes in little towns in little places with little families and every one of their days consisted of little things. Josie wasn’t sure she wanted to live just for herself, but she was certain she didn’t want her cousins’ existence. She didn’t want that any more than she wanted Luke staring at her. “Don’t you have somewhere else to go?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“It appears that I’ve been assigned to you.”

“Assigned by whom?”

He nodded toward the wagon ahead.

“Tia seems to think you need watching.”

She was not a child. “Can’t Zach or one of the vaqueros do it?”

“Tia seems to think you need watching by me.”

“Why?”

“Likely because no one else has the patience—”

“Patience? You?”

“—to deal with your procrastination and shilly-shallying,” he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted.

“You don’t know me well enough to make such accusations.” She couldn’t lie about the procrastination. She did have a tendency to put off the unpleasant stuff for as long as possible. Of course he picked up on that.

“I’ve got eyes and the fact that you’re sidestepping a flat-out denial cinches the deal.”

“It most certainly does not.” She didn’t know where all this opposition came from lately. She’d argued more over the last couple of days than she had in her entire life. She’d likely enjoy it more if she wasn’t roasting from the inside out.

He brushed aside that denial with an arch of his brow. “People who don’t like to lie usually aren’t bold about dissembling.”

She raised her own eyebrows at that. “Dissembling is a big word for a cowboy.”

“Photography is a big hobby for a woman.” He always had a comeback. She snapped her teeth together.

“And what’s wrong with it?”

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it. I just said it was a big one.”

Now he had her off-kilter. She’d been ready to fight and he’d gone all reasonable. “Life is too short not to do things you enjoy.”

“Uh-huh.”

He was back to lounging in the saddle in that casual way that just screamed predator. He reminded her of a hawk perched on a branch, ready to swoop, except she wasn’t sure what he was going to swoop on—her argument or more. It was the more that sent that little shiver through her. His eyes narrowed.

“Ghost walk over your grave?”

“That is the most nonsensical statement.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. He knew she was avoiding answering the question. Some men were irritating like that. His horse, a beautiful roan, tossed his head again. A sharp whistle came down the line. Luke straightened in the saddle and scanned the horizon.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

She didn’t believe him. “I’d like to point out I’m not the one dodging questions now.”

Good grief! She was getting positively belligerent. A thrill went through her. It was...exhilarating.

“Chico is uneasy.”

“Glory is calm.”

“I noticed.”

Another short whistle came from ahead.

Reaching down, Luke untied something on the right side of the saddle. His rifle, she realized as he drew it out of the scabbard. The illusion of him as a predator suddenly snapped into reality. Her contrary enjoyment evaporated in a puff of fear.

“Can that horse run?” he asked, pulling out the weapon and resting the barrel across the saddle.

“Of course.” Couldn’t all horses?

“Will he?”

She didn’t really know, but if she had to get down and push his behind along, she would. “Yes.”

She might not have been as convincing as she’d hoped. For a moment Luke took his attention off the horizon to shake his head at her. “I can’t believe Caine allowed that horse along.”

Confession time. “He’s the only one that wouldn’t spook with all the banging.”

“That will be remedied in the future.”

He was making her very nervous.

“Mr. Caine said trouble wasn’t likely.”

“Unlikely doesn’t mean nonexistent.”

She couldn’t argue that. Another burst of whistles cut across the distance. As if the message were spoken, Luke looked to the left. She did, too, but all she saw were rocks, grass and trees. Then again, she always had trouble seeing far without her spectacles.

“What is it?”

“Be ready.”

For what? Thankfully, she had managed not to voice it. The last thing anyone needed was for Luke’s attention to be diverted at a crucial moment. But it was getting harder to control this new, impetuous side of her nature now that he’d riled it up.