CHAPTER THREE
Colette leaned on the top of the main corral railing, Brook in her arms, her gaze captured by the man riding the back of a skittish horse.
A huge, powerful creature, the horse sidestepped and shook his head as if fighting whatever command the rider gave.
Despite the magnificence of the horse, it was the rider who captured Colette’s attention. He appeared to be an extension of the horse, his dark hair the same color as the animal he rode. His T-shirt stretched across his broad back, and his biceps bulged as he worked the reins in an effort to control.
Even his legs appeared taut within the worn jeans that covered them, giving the appearance of unsuppressed strength.
Although she was too far away to see his eyes, she remembered them from her brief encounter with him the day before. She knew his dark eyes were framed by thick black lashes, and she couldn’t deny there had been danger in their depths, a danger mingled with an indefinable emotion that had stirred a latent desirein her. What was it about him that caused such an odd mixture of emotions in her?
She’d dreamed of eyes the night before. Dark, angry eyes. They stared at her, emanating an unspoken threat that terrified her. She’d wanted to run, needed to get away—escape his anger, escape the rage in those eyes—but she couldn’t move. Something held her confined. His prisoner. Fear had kept her still, fear and something else, something more powerful. Lust. Desire.
She jumped as a hand touched her shoulder. She turned to see Roger Eaton standing next to her.
“Good morning. Abby sent me out to take you to the community center,” he explained with a friendly smile.
She nodded and placed Brook in the carrier on the ground next to where she stood. Picking up the carrier, she straightened, her gaze once again on the cowboy on horseback.
“Who is that man?” she asked Roger.
“Hank. Hank Cooper. Your sister hired him about a month ago. A week after she hired me. He’s good with the horses. According to your sister, that particular horse hadn’t ever been ridden, but Hank’s been working with her since the first day he arrived.” Roger laughed. “You should have seen him the first day he got on her back. She bucked him off in a matter of seconds. Hank didn’t look so hot lying flat on his back in the dust.”
Colette looked at Roger curiously. “You don’t like him much, do you?”
Roger shrugged. “He’s a hard man to like. Keepsto himself and doesn’t offer much in the way of friendship. Of course, there’s several like that here.”
Colette redirected her attention to the horse and rider, wondering what it was about the man that disturbed her so much. He was handsome in a brutal sort of way, looking as strong and enduring as the mountains in the distance. But it was more than his attractiveness that troubled her. Something about him distressed her, but she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was.
“Do you know where he’s from?” she asked.
Roger shook his head. “We’d better get going, I’ve got work to do.”
She nodded and they started on their way. As they passed the barn, Colette noticed several cigarette butts lying in the dirt in about the area she’d spotted somebody standing in the darkness the night before. Again a nervous tremor raced through her. Had the man she’d seen been watching her? Had he stood here and smoked cigarette after cigarette, his eyes trained on her window? Who had it been?
Stop it,she commanded herself. She was spooking herself with thoughts that might have no basis in reality. Just because there were several cigarette butts there in the dirt didn’t mean they had all been smoked by somebody staring at her window. Probably the men weren’t allowed to smoke in the barn, where hay and grain were stored. She was being ridiculous, looking for a bogeyman where there was none.
“Here we are,” Roger said as he opened the door to the community building. They entered a large, airy room and he pointed to a nearby doorway. “The playroomis through there. Is there anything I can do for you before I leave?”
“No, I’ll be fine. Thanks for showing me the way.”
“No problem.” He tipped his hat, then turned and walked away.
Colette watched him go. He seemed like a nice young man. She wondered how long he’d stick around. Abby had complained only the night before about how difficult it was to keep good ranch help. Would Roger last through the fall? Or would he be one of the ones Abby had to let go because of finances? It seemed a catch-22 for Abby. She couldn’t afford to pay terrific wages to keep good help, and so went through a huge turnover of workers.
Just before he disappeared from her sight, he paused. As she watched, he shook out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. Again Colette felt a shiver work up her spine. Had it been Roger she’d seen the night before? Had it been he who’d stood there in the darkness, watching her at her window?
One more time Colette felt the breath of danger caress the back of her neck. She had to get her memory back. She had to know if she and Brook were safe or if somebody was out to get them.
* * *
HANK MOVEDthe brush down the powerful horse’s flank, uttering soothing murmurs as he worked. He’d been amazed by how easily his horse skills had returned to him. Like riding a bicycle, it had only taken mounting a horse again to remember all the things his mother had taught him.
Putting the young mare in her stable, his thoughtsturned to Colette. He’d seen her pass the corral early in the morning with Roger Eaton, their destination apparently the community building.
He had to figure out what he was going to do about her, had to decide his next course of action. If the amnesia was true, then she wasn’t as much of a risk. If she didn’t remember him, then she probably wouldn’t run again. But there was no way to know for certain. And that left him uncertain as to how to proceed.
He needed to force a confrontation with her; see if she remembered him or not. He wanted to meet her face to face, examine her reaction, peer into her eyes.
