Page 28 of Steadfast

Maeve’s vision blurred around the edges, and her mind went blank as Abel slammed face first into the powdery dirt with a sickening thud.

Securing his tan cowboy hat to her head with one hand, Maeve ducked through the rails of the fence. She felt a surge of adrenaline as she darted across the corral. Her eyes stung in the cloud of kicked up dust, but no obstacle could stop her from reaching him.

Kneeling beside him in the dirt, she used all of her strength to heave him onto his back, praying that he was simply stunned and not critically injured. She straddled him across his chest, patting his cheek furiously in an attempt to get him to regain his wits.

“Come on, Abel,” she pleaded. “Get up!”

From the corner of her eye, she could see the ranch hand struggling for control of the mare. He was grasping for the reins as the animal bucked and stomped, fighting to free itself from the binds of its saddle.

Abel was still out cold.

In a last ditch effort, Maeve raised her palm high, slamming her eyes shut as she brought her hand down on his cheek, sending his handsome face sideways.

“Abel!” she exclaimed. “Please!” Her eyes were now filling with hopeless tears as she steeled her nerves.

When she raised her hand to strike him again, she felt her wrist caught in a firm grip. Looking down in surprise, she saw Abel holding her tightly while pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook the stars from his eyes.

Maeve felt the tremor of thundering hooves beneath them and saw the realization hit Abel’s expression that they were inthe direct path of the raging horse. His brawny hands wrapped around her waist, and it was as though she were weightless as she felt herself being flipped into dirt. Abel’s body pressed her to the earth as his sturdy shoulders shielded her from the violent hammering of the horse’s hooves that passed over them in a disorienting flurry of dust.

Not wasting a moment, Abel scrambled to his feet and quickly took her by the hand, hoisting her out of the dirt.

Feeling his fingers intertwine in hers, they bolted to the fence.

Climbing to safety, Maeve pulled a breath of air into her lungs. She looked him over head to toe, scanning him for injuries. The only mark she could see was her bright red handprint clearly splayed across his cheek.

She was yanked back into reality by his deep, musical laughter and her eyes narrowed. She hopped over the fence, her boots landing in the soft pasture grass. She crossed her arms in annoyance over Abel’s utter recklessness.

“And just what’s so funny?” she asked.

“It’s just that—” His laughter simmered to a wide grin, “you have one heck of a right hook.” Abel rubbed his sore jaw, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

She pulled his tan hat off her head and flung it to him. “I see you’re plenty proud about nearly getting yourself killed today.”

“You keep it,” he said, placing it back on her head, and softly sweeping away a bit of dust off her cheek with his thumb. “It suits you.”

She averted her gaze, hoping to hide any evidence that his touch was sending electricity through her once again.

“Why do you always do that?” He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

“Do what?” Maeve asked.

“You get that funny look every time I give you a compliment,” he said gently, looking intently like he was gauging her reaction, “like you’d rather be anywhere but here.”

“Fine, I’ll keep your hat,” she shrugged, elbowing him playfully, a defensive response that helped keep her walls high, “—even though you’ll regret it in a day or two.”

“And why’s that?” he replied.

“Oh, you’ll get eyes for some pretty girl,” she responded casually. “You’ll want to sweep her off her feet with some cheesy line about how you’re a cowboy.”

The corner of his lip curled into a smile, and his eyebrow raised as though after all the time they had spent together, she had missed the obvious.

“Well, I’ve already met a pretty girl,” Abel answered, his warm tone drawing her in. “I just wonder if she’ll ever accept that she’s the only one for me.”

Maeve’s eyes went wide as her thoughts began to spin. Although she knew it was the opposite of what Abel had intended, she felt like she had been punched.

“There’s things about me, Abel,” Maeve admitted. “You wouldn’t feel that way if you knew.” It took everything in her, but she managed to turn away. The sun had begun to set over the distant mountain range as Maeve stepped through the pasture.

“Maeve, stop.” Abel quickened his step and reached for her hand.