Page 15 of That Fateful Ride

Cyrus had no clue if he even hit the man who’d shoved a spear in his horse’s chest.

He hit first, the heavy weight of his horse slamming onto his leg before they began sliding down. The first bump brought tears, the second, removed him from the pain reverberating through his body as he fell into unconsciousness.

He bolted up in bed, sweat dripping down his body. Even now, his hip and leg still ached. Cy ran a hand over his face and swung his legs around to the floor, needing to get up and move.

Years. It had been years since he had the dream.

He poured himself a drink of water and gulped it down before topping it off and having another. His limbs shook and his heart continued to pound out of control.

Thirst quenched, at least for the moment, he took a deep breath and reached down to the scar on his leg. He’d not only lost his army career that day but the one decent thing from his father, that stallion. He’d had to be put down to end his suffering.

The doctor had been a drunk and a fool, not setting his leg right. Even his hip hurt at times now but mostly his leg when he had to ride a long distance or on the occasion he made a wrong step.

Either way, refusing to head home with his tail tucked to face his bastard of a father, he had tried for the Pony Express once more and jumped at the chance to head this station when the chance came.

He’d lost most of his men that day and the colonel who had sent them never came to talk to him to see how he or the survivors were doing. However, Cy had heard him after he’d been allowed to get up and move around, talking about how the losses that day were worth it because it was another accomplishment in his hat for his superiors to know about.

One of his men had held him back or he would have physically attacked the man. Cy hadn’t seen him since and didn’t want to.

He stepped outside after pulling on some pants, the suspenders hanging low, and boots were untied on his feet but he walked out from beneath the low awning of the station he now called home. Staring out over the grounds he closed his eyes as cool air blew around him, chilling his heated skin.

Nothing sounded out of the ordinary and he scanned around, something having set up as off in his mind. Again, it was his gut and he wasn’t about to ignore that.

Bunkhouse was dark so he cut his gaze to the stable. All dark as well. Wait, was that a flicker of light? Silently, he stepped back inside and swiped up the rifle he had by the door. He knew how many steps it took to get to the stable, he’d run it so many times by now.

He went up to the door and paused before entering. Slinking around to the paddock he climbed through the split rails and edged up to the space there that was open to allow him to bring horses in and out. The doors stayed open unless the weather was bad, then they would close them.

Winter hadn’t hit yet.

Rifle ready to fire, he crept inside, ears and eyes attuned to anything that was out of place. After a full check of the entire building, he exited out the front, frustrated that he hadn’t been able to find anything.

“I need some damn sleep.”

It was more than that. He needed the one thing he wasn’t allowed to even entertain having as his own.

Rebecca Freeman.

Knowing he wasn’t about to get anymore sleep, he started on breakfast. Staging it so it wouldn’t take as long to prepare for the men.

Later that morning, he was in the barn taking another look, while dealing with daily chores when a tingle ghosted over his skin and he glanced up to see that Rebecca was standing there watching him. The blue bandana wrapped around her head and the hat set low, obscuring what he knew now to be a woman’s face.

“Need something?” He hooked the rope keeping in the chestnut mare and moved on to the next stall.

“No. Heading in to town.”

His anger fell away and he found he wanted nothing more than to needle her and see if he couldn’t fluster her. Propping his hands on the top of the rake handle, he jutted his chin at her. “Spending a lot of time there, Robert. Got a woman that holds your fancy? Megan? Sharla? I’ve heard they like you.”

As expected, Rebecca shook her head and scuffed the toe of her boots in the dirt floor.

“Not really my scene there.”

“But you are going to the Right Hand, aren’t you?”

Polaris stuck his head out of his stall and whickered a hello. She moved to his side and hugged him before stroking his neck.

I’ve never been jealous of a horse before now.

He wanted that touch on him not the hide of a horse. Hell, she could stroke him all over if she wished. Cy was more than willing to strip naked for her touch. Through his clothing would be acceptable if that was the only way she would do it.

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