Cheyenne Surrender by Madeline Baker

Author:Madeline Baker [Baker, Madeline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Butterfly Kisses Press
Published: 2015-09-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Caleb swore under his breath as Callie bolted out the door. Stubborn woman! Storming out into the rain like that.

Getting out of bed, he drew on a pair of dry pants and a shirt, clapped his hat on his head, pulled on a pair of socks, stamped his feet into his boots.

Cussing mightily, he put out the fire, grabbed their saddlebags and left the shack. He hoped to find her huddled in the rain, but she was gone. He knew a quick moment of satisfaction that she’d been able to catch and saddle her horse without his help, and then he cussed again. Stubborn woman, he thought irritably. And then he smiled. That was one of the things he liked about her.

In a matter of minutes, he was riding after her, cursing a blue streak all the while, and grinning like a kid who’d just discovered the difference between men and women.

He caught up with her four miles later.

Callie glared at Caleb as he rode up. She’d known he would follow her, but she’d hoped to reach the ranch before he did. Instead, her horse had lost its footing on the slippery ground. The animal had gone down, throwing Callie over its head. She was unhurt except for a bruised derriere and several scrapes on her arms and legs. The horse hadn’t fared so well. It was lame.

“You all right?” Caleb asked.

“Yes.”

He swung out of the saddle and examined the black mare’s right foreleg. It wasn’t broken, but there was no way Callie could ride the mare back to the ranch.

Caleb turned to face Callie. “We’ll have to ride double.”

“Is she hurt bad?”

“No.” He looped the mare’s reins over the saddle horn, knowing she’d follow the buckskin home. “You ready to go?”

Callie nodded. She didn’t argue when Caleb gave her a leg up. She was tired and cold and sick at heart, and all she wanted now was to go home, crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head.

Her breath caught in her throat as Caleb swung up behind her. His arm brushed the curve of her breast as he reached forward to take up the buckskin’s reins. He was close, so close. His chest caressed her back, his hard-muscled thighs cradled her own.

He clucked to the buckskin and the horse moved forward. It was impossible not to touch him, impossible to pretend she was unaffected by his nearness. When the buckskin stumbled, Caleb’s arm closed around her waist, holding her against him. His chest was solid and all too comforting. Why didn’t he love her? Why did she love him?

They rode for hours without saying a word. Every time Caleb touched her, she remembered what it had been like in his arms. She had never dreamed that such ecstasy existed, never imagined anything so wonderful. In Caleb’s arms, with his body joined intimately to hers, she had felt like she belonged to someone, really belonged, for the first time in her life. Had Duncan made her mother feel like that? If so, it explained why Leila had refused to leave him.

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