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“Well, that was entirely my fault.”
“What did you do?” She pushed her shoulder against his chest as if the movement could force the words from him.
“I let myself be distracted momentarily while working with a horse. Ended up getting kicked.”
“Ouch.”
“Oh, the kick didn’t hurt that much. But I was mad and I got back on the horse. I was not in the frame of mind I needed to be in when dealing with a wild animal. He threw me before I found my balance. Right into the boards. Knocked me out and cut my head.” Brand bent and showed her where the cut had been, just above his left ear.
She parted his hair to examine his head under the light from the lantern by the barn door. She couldn’t see anything, but touching him like that made the air feel light as butterfly wings. “Glad to see you survived.” Her voice was husky.
“Couldn’t see straight for two days. Had a sore head for a long time.”
“Ah.” That was all she said.
He squinted at her. “Ah? What does that mean?”
She shrugged. “Only that it explains a few things.”
He caught her elbows. “Like what?” His own voice had grown low.
She pretended to try and wriggle free, though she hoped he wouldn’t take her seriously and drop his hands. “Now I understand why you act so thickheaded at times.”
“When have I ever done that?”
Her thoughts stalled. Only one thing came to mind and she wasn’t sure she should mention it.
He shook her gently. “Tell me.”
“Well, if you insist, I’d have to say that to keep running from the Duggan gang when it no longer exists is pretty thickheaded.”
He dropped his hands to his sides and studied her long and hard. “I’m through running.”
She touched his arm. “I’m glad.”
One more question burned to be asked. “Have you ever left a brokenhearted girl behind?”
“No. Never.”
“Really? No love interests?” Sybil could hardly believe it.
“Once I thought myself in love.” He told her about May.
Sybil sensed how hurt he’d been, and wrapped her arm around his as they walked along the path toward the bridge, where they stopped. She raised her face to him as she did every evening, on the pretext of deep interest in something he said. It wasn’t that her interest wasn’t real, but what she really hoped for was a sign of growing affection on his part.
A kiss from Brand would signal he felt the same thing.
But each time, he looked ready to accept her silent invitation...then blinked and shifted away. Perhaps he didn’t share her feelings. Perhaps she was wrong in thinking he cared.
Chapter Seventeen
Being part of a crew made Brand more nervous than riding a rank horse. He was never sure what to say. He’d forgotten how to sit at a table and make conversation. Sleeping in a bunkhouse with others made his skin twitch. But it was worth it to see Sybil every day. He often observed her helping Linette or visiting with Jayne during the day. And each evening, she joined him for a walk. He’d never known such sweet moments.
She stood before him this evening, her face upturned to him. He studied her expression, memorizing every feature, branding it indelibly on his memory. As long as he lived and drew breath he would remember these evenings with joy.
He touched a wayward curl and pulled in a breath at the satiny feel of her hair. A fine lady from high-class society. And yet she smiled at him. Tipped her face toward his touch.
“Sybil?” He whispered her name. Was he misreading the invitation in her eyes?
“Brand.” She lifted a hand and pressed her palm to his chest.
“You are a fine lady.”
Her smile widened. “And you are a fine gentleman.”
He grinned at that. “I’m just a cowboy.”
“I don’t think the two are mutually exclusive.”
His smile spread further. “I suppose not.”
Her fingers teased the hair above his ear. Tingles of anticipation flooded his brain, even as more tingles raced up his arm and pounded through his heart. Was it possible she wanted what he wanted? A kiss? And so much more. A kiss would merely signal all the things he hoped for and dared not dream of. Love, acceptance, family, home...
