Page 23 of Fairest of Heart

Titus took it from her. “Mesquite thorn. I missed it.” Self-recrimination seeped from his voice in tight, angry drops. “Where did it get you?” He crouched down in front of her and reached for her foot.

She pulled it away from him, not wanting him to undo the wrappings. If there was any blood, it would be better to keep the bandages in place. “It just nicked my toes. I’m fine.” She forced a smile even though her foot throbbed. “God was gracious. It passed between my first and second toes, doing very little damage. It could have been worse.”

Titus stood and hurled the ugly barb into the brush with enough strength to fell any of the small trees around them. Scraggly, twisted little bush trees hiding nasty thorns.

“I’m carrying you.” The Ranger pivoted toward her, his expression so dark, Penelope backed up a step and tightened her grip on Angus’s arm. “Once we clear the mesquites, I’ll set you back down.” He pointed to a spot about fifty yards ahead where the land flattened into a grassland free of trees. “You have my word.”

Penelope held his gaze for a long moment. Perhaps it was foolish to believe she could read honor in such dark, angry eyes, but she did, and her alarm faded. She’d been hurt on his watch. That’s what spurred his high-handed demand. He wanted to protect her, not supplant his will over hers.

“All right. Just until we clear the thorn bushes.”

He didn’t give her time for second thoughts. One arm immediately wrapped around her back while the other caught her behind her knees. She barely had time to suck in a breath before he had her off the ground. She clutched his neck for balance and security, though within the first two steps she realized she had no chance of falling. His arms were far too strong. His chest too sturdy. His sense of duty far too pronounced. Exhaustion would take him to his knees before he let her tumble from his grasp.

Thankfully, exhaustion wasn’t an issue. His long, powerful strides carried her away from the mesquites in a matter of minutes. And true to his word, he put her down as soon as the thorns were behind them, though his hands lingered at her waist to ensure her feet would indeed hold her upright.

“Thank you.” She couldn’t quite meet his eyes, not when he stood so close, his chest heaving slightly from his exertion, her hands feeling every breath as they slipped from around his neck.

“The, uh, ranch is just over that rise.” He cleared his throat, then dropped his hands from around her waist and stepped away. “We’ll be there soon.”

He strode off without a backward glance, leaving Penelope’s flustered heart throbbing as much as her sore foot when she moved to follow.

10

Titus scoured the ground in front of him for hazards as if he were an eagle scouting for prey. He couldn’t afford another miss. That mesquite thorn could have impaled her foot if God’s grace hadn’t covered his failure.

The earth flattened as they neared the ranch, and the vegetation thinned. Titus refused to be lulled into inattention by the landscape’s harmless façade. Snakes could slither out of the grass. Prairie dog holes could twist an ankle. Jagged rocks could—

“Ho, Titus!”

Dusty approached on horseback, leading Rex and a mount for Angus. Titus grinned, and the tightrope stretched across his shoulders finally found some slack. Leave it to a wrangler to problem solve with hooves instead of shoes.

“Thought you might wanna ride the rest of the way. Get the young lady off her feet.”

“That I would, old man.” Titus jogged forward and mounted Rex in one smooth motion.

Man, but it felt good to be in the saddle. Free to face the breeze and inhale the sky. Free to release his responsibility for Miss Snow’s well-being. Sitting light in the saddle, he nudged Rex into a trot and drew alongside the lady in his charge. He bent toward her and extended an arm. “Ma’am?”

She must have been starting to trust him at least a little, for she only hesitated a heartbeat or two before clasping his arm. Locking forearms with her, he solidified his hold, then pulled her up into his lap. The moment she pressed against him, all the distractions he’d so ruthlessly purged from his consciousness after carrying her out of the mesquite grove returned in a flood. Distractions he found nearly impossible to shove back in the bottle they’d escaped from now that the need for single-minded focus had become obsolete.

Memories of her arms wrapped around his neck. Her body nestled against his chest. Her narrow waist beneath his fingers.

Get it together, Kingsley. She’s a job. Nothing more. Titus clenched his jaw as Miss Snow situated herself. He wrapped his arms around her—strictly for pragmatic purposes, couldn’t have her slipping off the horse, after all—then nudged Rex into an easy lope that took them home in a matter of minutes. Angus and Dusty followed in his wake, though they turned off at the barn instead of following him to the back porch of the ranch house. Doc must’ve been keeping watch, for he swung the door open before Rex had fully halted.

“Bring her inside, Titus.” Doc waved him forward as if worried his grandson might not be able to find the door. “I have tea steeping in the pot, and Coy’s whipping up a new batch of flapjacks that should be ready in a few minutes.”

Titus willed away the annoying instinct to keep Miss Snow in his arms and carry her across the threshold. The woman had made it clear she preferred to walk under her own power, and heaven knew it’d be unwise to revive all those disquieting sensations he’d experienced the last time he carried her. His equilibrium was out of kilter enough already.

So instead of prolonging his contact with her by dismounting together, he glued his rear to the saddle and lowered her to the ground with one arm. Doc rushed forward to meet her.

“Miss Snow? I’m Dr. Enoch Kingsley.” He sketched a quick bow. “I understand you’ve endured a most trying ordeal.” Taking her hand, he gently drew her toward the house. “I have a warm footbath with Epsom salts waiting for you along with soap and water for your hands and face. Ike is filling the tub upstairs, and Coy has extra kettles heating on the stove, so a full bath will be ready for you once you’ve eaten.”

If the man flapped his gums any harder, he’d be in danger of taking flight. Titus ducked his head to hide his smile. It seemed none of the Diamond D men could resist stumbling over themselves to please her.

Miss Snow allowed Doc to lead her up the steps to the door, but she cast a wide-eyed glance over her shoulder as she went, searching out Titus’s gaze and snatching something inside his chest in the process. His heart swelled at the notion of her seeking him out, looking to him for reassurance. As if she needed him. Trusted him. Preferred him.

Oh, for Pete’s sake. She was surrounded by geriatric cowhands. Of course she would seek reassurance from the only man of the group not alive when the Alamo fell. It meant nothing.

He wouldn’t let it mean anything. Titus gave her the nod she’d been seeking, then turned his attention to dismounting.