Page 32 of That Fateful Ride

“Don’t try to fool me. You like him?”

“I don’t dislike him.” Would her answer work?

“You can’t be staring at him like a lovesick child.” His voice was low and angry.

She whirled on him. “Do you think I would be so stupid as to give myself away? I made the decision to fill in for you to help this family! I wouldn’t mess that up because one man doesn’t scratch himself, pass gas, or belch in front of me. And shame on you for thinking I would.”

Biting back her rising frustration, she thrust a bowl of potatoes at him along with a knife. He got the hint and left her alone. She squeezed her eyes shut and struggled to forget about Cy Spencer. It hadn’t worked so far and didn’t this time either.

Her relationship with Cy was more than a few passing interludes of passionate sex. On the nights she cooked, they’d talked. Gotten to know one another. She liked him. She respected him.

It’s more than that,her subconscious volunteered.You’ve fallen in love with him.

Could that be? She shook her head. Surely not. Just a bit more attachment because he’d taken her virginity.

Do you really believe that?Her brain asked, seconded by her heart.

Didn’t matter. She had a month left with him. That was all.

She worked in silence despite her brother’s attempts to talk more. That night Cy filled her dreams. They went on picnics, made love along sparkling streams, and spent their nights in each other’s arms.

The rooster woke her and she dressed quickly, drawing on her buckskins, which would keep her warmer than her other pants. She also dug out her fur-lined moccasins. Once bound and dressed, she slipped from her room and made her way to the door.

Stepping outside, she inhaled the cold crisp air and paused at the whicker near the house.

“I thought you would be up early to leave.” Her mama spoke from the left.

“Thank you, Mama.”

“There are some biscuits and jerky in there for you. As well as a surprise. You take care now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her mama enveloped her in a hug, before Rebecca moved to her ride and swung up. Although it was dark, she tugged on the brim of her hat prior to riding off. She ate the ham biscuits on her way and allowed Polaris to pick his own pace.

She arrived at the station the following afternoon. The men were outside the bunkhouse, cutting hair when she rode in. Cy was off by the stable, repairing some fence. He looked up when she rode by. She barely glanced at him and dismounted.

“Robert,” Hank called. “Where’d you go?”

“Had to see a woman,” she returned, walking toward them with bags in hand.

The men whooped and hollered. “Did she mark you like Cy’s woman did?”

Cy had a woman? She felt sick all over again. “Mark me?”

“Hey, Cy!” Pete cried out.

Bags over her shoulder, she watched her sometimes lover wipe the sweat from his brow and walk toward them. Despite the coolness of the day, he wore no shirt and his suspenders hung down. His inherent swagger set her pulse racing.

“What, Pete?” he asked when he got there.

“Show Robert where your woman marked you.”

God, she didn’t want to see this. However, she was Robert again, not Rebecca—a woman who’d lain with him.

Cy spun around and her gaze immediately went to his firm ass.

“Look at his shoulders.”

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