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Only one other time did he see her, on the hill beside the ranch house, throwing out a bucket of water.
It was late afternoon when he turned loose the horse he’d finished working on. But rather than catch another, he went to the barn. With Eddie’s permission, he cut a board the size he wanted and chose a length of rope, then made his way to the tree he’d noticed in the morning. In a few minutes, he had a swing hanging from a branch.
He returned to where he could see the ranch house, and waited, hoping Sybil would come down to the corrals before suppertime. He halter broke a horse as he waited. Fifteen minutes later, she trotted down the hill.
He slipped the halter from the horse and turned it loose. This one time he would think about something besides work. Though he could never stop thinking about the Duggan gang. During the passing hours he’d convinced himself he would surely hear rumors of them long before they could reach this area of western Canada. Their reputation had a way of preceding them. He’d have time to ride away before they found him.
He was hanging the halter over a post to take care of later when he saw her approach the fence. “Howdy,” he said.
“Hello.” She glanced about the pen. “Are you done for the day?”
Did she sound surprised or pleased? It didn’t matter. “I have something to show you.”
Her eyes lit up, bright blue. “Really?”
“Yup.” He vaulted over the fence. “Come and see.” She kept close to his side as they crossed the yard. His grin grew to rival the sky for size.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” He slowed, smiled even wider when she matched his steps. How was he going to surprise her when she’d be able to see the swing as soon as they passed Seth’s cabin? Only one way. Would she agree? “I need you to close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“All right.” She closed her eyes.
He swallowed hard. She looked as if she waited for a kiss. Every nerve in his body sent up a red flare. She was very kissable, but not by him. She was out of his class. She deserved better than he could ever offer her—a life on the run. Most importantly, if she discovered his identity, her eyes would snap open and fill with fear and loathing.
Nope. He’d sooner leave with memories kept sweet by hiding the truth.
“What direction am I to go?”
Her question brought him back to his purpose. “Straight ahead.”
She took one step and stopped, her hands before her. “I might stumble.”
He wiped his palms against his trousers and ignored the red flares of warning as he took her hand. “I’ll show you the way. Trust me.” His heart slammed against his ribs. Ironic assurance from a man hiding the truth.
But she rested her hand in his, following his lead without hesitation until they were within ten feet of the swing.
“Open your eyes.”
She did, looking at him, her gaze so full of sweet expectation that something within him wrenched, a fierce sensation of both pleasure and pain.
He forced himself to break away from her look, and nodded toward the swing.
She looked and gasped. “Where did that come from?”
“I made it for you.” He sounded too keen. “I thought of how you enjoyed swinging with Suzette, and thought you might still enjoy swinging even if your friend can’t be with you.” Did his explanation make him seem less eager? He didn’t think so.
She clasped her hands to her chest and laughed. “A swing.” Her eyes were awash with tears.
Had he made her cry? The thought slammed into him. “I thought you’d like it. I can take it down if you want.”
She caught his hand. “No. It’s perfect. I’m surprised and pleased that you would think to do this.” She rose on tiptoe and kissed his chin. “Thank you.”
Pink stained her cheeks and she rushed away to try out the swing.
Heat flooded up his neck and stung his ears. If he’d known she’d be this grateful, he might have thought twice about putting the swing up. Shoot. Who was he kidding? He didn’t mind in the least. One more stolen memory. Based on hiding the truth.
What would she say if he told her he was a Duggan?
