Free Comanche Cowboy (The Durango Family) by Georgina Gentry Page A

fought through the cattle. “Dios, boss! I think the saints watch out for you tonight!”
    “No, the devil!” Maverick shouted over the noise. He couldn’t die yet; he still had that oath to fulfill. That’s why he’d saved her, Maverick told himself grimly as he held her against him, protecting her from the hard-driving rain. He didn’t know the whereabouts of the Lazy M Ranch. He needed Cayenne to lead him to her father. Of course that was why he’d risked his neck to save her.
    Clear of the herd, he swung down, holding his arms up for the girl. She slid off the horse and collapsed, trembling against his chest. “Maverick! Maverick! I was so scared!”
    “I know, I know,” he said gently, handing his reins to Sanchez. “That was a brave thing you did, trying to help Tom. It almost cost you your life! ”
    She looked up at him, lips trembling, and he gently brushed a wet wisp of hair out of the green eyes. “That poor man! I—I tried—
    “Hush, Cee Cee, I know.” She staggered and he caught her, swinging her up in his arms. “You’ll be all right in a minute with a little coffee and dry clothes.”
    With long strides, he carried her under a rock ledge above the creek as the rain turned into a fine mist. “Stay here,” he commanded. “I’ll have one of the boys bring you some blankets, build you a fire.”
    “But Maverick—”
    “Cee Cee, I’m the ramrod here, and I’m used to people doing what I tell them! Stay here,” he commanded. “I’ll be back when I’m sure the herd is settled for the night, after we find Tom and . . . well, you know.”
    He left her sitting wet and forlorn under the dry safety of the rock ledge. After he had Cookie take her some blankets, see to a fire and some coffee for her, he turned his attention back to the cattle, the crew.
    It was hours before things settled down, before they found all that was left of Tom. And to think only that evening he’d spoke harshly to the young cowboy for flirting with Maverick’s woman. Maverick’s woman . The thought came to him naturally and unquestioned, and yet, he told himself, he’d only saved her to complete his oath. He thought of the girl as he dealt with the weary cattle, got them quieted, saw to the comfort of his exhausted crew.
    The rain stopped. There hand’t been much on the parched prairie anyway. But it was the middle of the night, and Maverick was wet and weary before all his duties were taken care of. He went back out to check on the girl.
    She sat wrapped in a blanket before a small fire and looked up, smiling as he came over. “I saved you some coffee,” she said, holding out a cup.
    “Thanks.” He squatted by the fire, taking the cup from her hand. Every muscle ached with weariness, and even in the summer heat, the wind made him shiver a little as it touched his soaked clothes.
    “You ought to get out of those wet things,” she scolded gently.
    “Later,” he sighed. “I’m too tired to move, to think. We lost about a hundred head, your horse, and of course—” He didn’t finish, not wanting to remember the blood and bones that had been Tom and his paint gelding.
    He heard her swallow hard. “Can I do a little service for him in the morning?”
    “If it makes you feel better,” he shrugged. He looked at her wrapped in her blanket. Her hair had dried and hung around her shoulders like silken flames. From here he could smell the slight scent of vanilla and the smoky scent of the campfire on her skin. “You need anything?”
    She shook her head, and reluctantly he stood up, stretching. “Then I’ll go back over to my bed for a couple of hours.” He turned to walk away.
    “Maverick,” she hesitated, and he turned to look down at her. “Aren’t your blankets wet?”
    He shrugged. “I can sleep standing up if I have to; I’m tired enough.”
    “Do I have the last dry blankets in camp?”
    He paused. There was no use making her feel guilty about the damned blankets. Of course he’d given her