“But you are my business.” Each word was emphatic as if she wanted to drill it into him.
“Since when?”
Her gaze shifted to the corner of the house.
Charlie stood there with a deep frown. Had he overheard any of the disagreement?
Digging a hole in the dirt with his toe, the boy glanced between Ben and Cora. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Ben bit off the word and stalked toward the corral.
Charlie caught up to him. “You’re not feeling well?”
Ben jerked to a halt and ground his molars, fighting the urge to glare at the child.
The boy looked up at him with big, rounded eyes. “I don’t want you hurt.” He latched onto Ben’s hand.
Ben groaned. Not him too. Probably Cora’s influence. Well, he’d show them what he was capable of.
He took a step. Charlie stepped with him, holding firm to his hand with a sweaty palm. Ben puffed out his cheeks. How did he end up with a child to look after? One who tagged along like a pup. A pup with a gaping hole in his life. A pup who needed him.
Ben scrubbed a hand over his face. He had no business risking a serious injury without good reason. He had…a family to take care of. Not quite his family. But the boy sure seemed like it. And Cora? What was she? At the moment, more of a pain than anything. But no one he was willing to let go of.
He scuffed his boot against the sand and headed toward the corral, managing to work his hand free of Charlie’s along the way.
Gary stood alongside the gate chuckling as Jones struggled to slip a rope harness over the head of a black mustang. Goodnight leaned across his saddle which he’d thrown over the top railing. Several others stood nearby. All eyes turned toward Ben as he approached.
Ben hooked his thumbs around his suspenders. “Don’t bother with the saddle. I want to see her run. Turn her loose in the corral. I’m in the market to buy a horse. I’ll break her on my own time.”
A chuckle came from one of the gathered cowhands. “Talking about the horse or the woman?”
Ben rested his hand on the gate and admired the mustang. “Good question.”
The scent of roses filled Cora’s nostrils as she waited by the vine-covered trellis at the porch corner. In the distance, the men talked by the corral, but she hung back close to the main house. She’d best stay clear of Ben until he settled down. If only she could have expressed her concern unseen, without having to call him away from the men.
Charlie broke from the group and ran over to her. “Ben decided to not ride the wild horse. He’s going to buy her instead.”
A slow exhale leaked from her lungs. He was going to listen. Thank goodness. She’d let her worry get the best of her, but less than a month ago, he’d struggled for strength to even get out of bed.
“He said I can help with the horse when we get home.” Charlie grinned. “Oh, and Mr. Gary said you’re welcome to help the women folk fix food for the men. There’s going to be a picnic out behind the house.”
So that’s where the other women were. That didn’t mean she belonged there.
Across the yard, Ben strode over to Mr. Goodnight. Finally, he was going to talk to the man. That’s where she should be. “Why don’t you go play, Charlie? I need to help Ben.”
He hopped on one foot. “I’ll see if I can help at the stables. Maybe I’ll meet Tyler, the boy who was afraid to ride the blue roan.”
“That’s fine. Just make sure you come when I call. We can’t stay too late.” She tapped her straw hat farther down on her head and stepped toward the men. Tonight, they’d camp in the open rather than riding through the night. Just her, Charlie, and Ben… Her pulse quickened.
A chipmunk scurried past, cheeks full.
Cora lifted her skirts and stepped around a pile of dried manure.
Goodnight’s voice carried on the breeze, something about horses.
Cora caught up to the two men when they paused in the shade of a post oak tree with wide-reaching branches. Tufts of rich brown hair poked out around Ben’s ears and at the back of his collar, beneath his black slouch hat.
Goodnight unscrewed his canteen. “Afternoon, ma’am.”
