She crinkled her brow but complied.
As they reached the gate area, Gary climbed onto his wagon and puffed out his chest. “Anyone else want a go at the blue before I have the boys give him a good brushing?”
Ben halted. A chance to prove himself. He eyed the animal as Goodnight led it through the gate. The horse shook its head andnickered. Twigs and leaves clung to the animal’s blue-gray coat. Spatterings of mud clung to its legs.
“What are you doing?” Cora tightened her grip on his arm.
Ben stood tall and called out to Gary. “The blue’s tuckered out. You got any others?”
“Ben,” Cora hissed under her breath.
“Well, Mister…?” Gary spit out a chaw.
“McKenzie.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Gary nodded from his perch. “I could round up another bronc if you care to have a go.”
Cora sputtered. “Mr. McKenzie, may I talk with you for a moment?” She yanked on his sleeve, her eyes sparking.
“Excuse me.” Ben clamped his arm to his side and dug his boots into the pebbled ground, forcing Cora to halt.
“Take your time with the little lady.” Gary nudged his hat back. “We’ll put the blue to stall and see what we can round up for you.”
Stiff-backed, Ben followed Cora around the corner of the main house, dragging his heels to temper her giddy-up speed. He stopped in the shade of a pin oak and slipped his arm free of her grip. “You want to talk to me?”
She swung her arms wide. “You can’t ride a bronc.”
His eyes narrowed. “Says who?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Let me worry about that. I can take care of myself.”
“These men have had years of practice.”
“I was in the U.S. Cavalry in case it slipped your mind, Cora.” He bored his gaze into her. She had some nerve. “I might not be a cattle expert, but I know horses.”
“That was before?—”
“Before what?” The words struck like a hammer. His pulse throbbed in his temples.
She blinked at him, lips pressed shut. The answer was in her eyes. That same doubt. That sameyou’re like my father.
“Before prison camp?” He lowered his voice. “Before laudanum?” He practically spit out the word. Did she think him wounded beyond repair?
She glanced away.
That was her answer, all right. Dousing him with the sins of her father again.
“Couldn’t your father even ride a horse?”
“This has nothing to do with my father.” She jabbed a hand to her hip.
He blew out a breath. “Who are you to tell me what to do?” He shoved past her and headed for the corral, his hands clenched at his sides.
She caught up to him, her voice low. “You were sick for weeks.”
He wasn’t back to full strength, not by a long shot. His stomach was a tempest more often than not. But he wasn’t going to stand by the wayside like some invalid. “Mind your own business, Cora.”
