Page 25 of That Fateful Ride

“Good to see you back, boss. Have fun in town?” Pete asked with raucous laughter.

“What’s going on?” He swung down.

Pete scratched himself and puffed his smoke. “Hank’s sewing up Robert’s arm. Injuns chased him. And you have a message that came in with the last rider.”

Shit. He’d missed a transfer being out there with her. The more important issue is why didn’t she say anything about her injury?

He looked at her; she met his gaze as she always did. Emotionless. “Come talk to me when you’re done here, Robert.”

Pete walked near and sat down as she gave him a nod. Cy bit back his curse then went to unsaddle his horse and carry his supplies inside. As it grew darker, he began supper, his dispatch in his pocket. While it simmered, he sat in a chair and read it by lantern.

Chapter7

Rebecca made her way to the station, moving slow as she tried not to wince. Even the ride back here had been one of discomfort. Not that she regretted what had transpired between them, for she didn’t. For the first time in her life she’d felt something deeper.

She opened the door and walked in, Cy sat in a chair to her left. Dark hazel eyes speared her and her breath left her in a rush.

“You wished to see me?”

He dropped the paper from his hand to the small table beside him and pushed to his feet.

“Oh yeah,” he growled.

Lord, he was big. She wanted the opportunity to explore his hard physique in the light of day. The recollection of his hands upon her skin caused a hitch in her breathing. Strong callused hands skimming over her waist, breasts and every ache she’d experienced previously vanished. She wanted more and could feel herself ready for him.

“What?” she asked. Hopefully he couldn’t hear the pounding of her heart. It was so loud to her.

“You left me there. Not only that, you didn’t tell me you’d been injured.”

“We’remenwho work together. I didn’t think I needed to wait for you. Moreover, the cut is just a cut. Hank did a good job.”

He narrowed his eyes. “We’renotmen. I am. You…are a woman.” She blew an exasperated breath. “He put a needle in you.”

“Like he would do any other man who got hurt. Should I have gone to see the doc? Pray he didn’t ask me to remove my shirt?”

“Damn it!”

Anger began to rear. “Am I suddenly not able to do the job?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Good because I refuse to lose this job.”

He clenched his fists and swore. She crossed her arms and looked at him, unwilling to budge.

“I could force you.”

“You could.” A shrug. “You won’t.”

“So confident?”

Not really no. “Yes.”

“And why is that?”

Please don’t let me be wrong here.“Because you gave your word.”

“And you trust me?”

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