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Would she laugh and say it didn’t matter? Or would she look shocked and refuse to speak to him?
He couldn’t risk it.
Sybil laughed, a sound of pure joy to rival the sweetest of the bird songs he often enjoyed on lonely evenings.
“I’d forgotten how much I like this.” She swung back and forth. Each time she did, their gazes collided.
Every lonely night, every cold morning alone, every goodbye rolled and twisted at the bottom of his stomach. Each glance from her tempted the feelings upward, as if they wanted release. He fought them back. He fought his own longings and wishes. He almost lost when she tipped her head back and let her laughter roll out in time with the movement of the swing.
A soft laugh came from his lips. He leaned back on his heels and savored the moment. The memory of this evening would have to suffice for the rest of his life.
Thor, the fawn that hung around the place, trotted toward him. Dawg growled, but at Brand’s command backed away and sat down.
The fawn saw Sybil swinging and jumped away in playful surprise, then chased her back and forth.
Soon Sybil laughed so hard she had to stop swinging.
The sound of their play attracted Billy and Grady, the two young boys who spent time together.
“A swing,” Grady said. “Who built it?”
“I did,” Brand replied.
Billy looked him up and down. “I thought you broke horses.”
Sybil chortled. “I guess a man can do more than one thing.” The look she gave him slid right past his brain and oozed into his heart like warm syrup.
Billy nodded. “I guess so. We used to have a swing.”
Sybil sobered. Her eyes dipped downward.
Brand tried to think why, but couldn’t.
She got off the swing. “Do you boys want to have a turn?”
Grady hurried to get on.
For the next half hour, Brand and Sybil took turns pushing each boy on the swing, at the same time teaching them how to pump so they could make themselves go high.
As the boys grew more confident, Sybil and Brand sat nearby to watch.
“Did you wonder why Billy said he used to have a swing?” She told him how Billy and his brother and two sisters had been left orphaned. “Roper and Cassie found them and cared for them and later adopted them.” The foreman and his wife lived in a new house on the Eden Valley Ranch.
“It’s nice to know things work out well for some children.” Brand managed to keep his voice from showing any regret that he had not been so fortunate. But it hadn’t been so bad. He’d had a mother who cared for him, prayed for him and protected him to the best of her ability.
“Supper!” The call came from up the hill on one side and within seconds echoed from Roper’s house.
“Coming,” the children called, and scampered away.
“I have to go, too.” Sybil smiled at Brand. “You’re welcome to join us for a meal.”
He hesitated a heartbeat, then shook his head. He had already crossed too many of his boundaries. “I’ll be going.”
Her smile lingered. “I can’t thank you enough for the swing. It will provide hours of pleasure not only for me but for the others.” She brushed her hand over his arm. “Brand, you’re a good man.” Then she turned and skipped toward the ranch house.
He stared after her, his heart swelling until it crowded against his ribs. She’d said he was a good man. Then he snorted. Brand, it don’t matter whether or not you’re a good man. You are a Duggan.
Five hundred dollars. Dead or alive.
Sooner or later someone around here would see a wanted poster. Then what?
Someone would come gunning for him. But worse, far worse, he’d put Sybil in the way of danger simply by allowing a friendship between them. Danger from the Duggans. Danger from bounty hunters.
Would she believe him guilty?
Perhaps he would come right out and tell her who he was. How would she react?
He slapped his forehead. It was bad enough that he sat about expecting a woman to feed him. But now he’d crossed a line, thinking he could get away with admitting he was a Duggan. No one would believe him innocent, and just being associated with him put Sybil at risk. Cyrus wouldn’t hesitate to harass or threaten her simply to get at Brand.
He knew what he must do. He returned to his campsite, saddled his horse, threw his saddlebags on the back and swung up. “Come on, Dawg.” He clamped his teeth together so hard his whole head hurt. But a man must do what a man must do.
