Free The Wrangler by Jillian Hart Page A

greater beauty. As much as his bullet wound hurt, it was nothing compared to the lance of pain that rent him dead center when he looked at her.
    He'd never wanted anything before, not since he'd lost everything on that horrible day. He'd vowed never to hold onto anything because it hurt too much when you lost it. That was a vow he'd kept. It was wrong to feel like this for her, but he couldn't stop it.
    The only way out was to leave.
    Get the mare situated, he thought. Make sure the woman and kids are safe, and that's it, you're gone.
    Kit's sweet scent filled his head. It was hard to ignore as he worked the halter into place. The mare only flinching slightly. Yes, she'd been someone's animal once. Perhaps that's why she'd hesitated last night when he'd tried to reach her. Maybe that's why she'd come back to him when she'd needed help. For all he knew, she'd been hurt last night.
    The mare lipped up every last kernel, her whiskery lips working against the bottom of the bucket. Her breath whooshed out in protest.
    "There'll be more later, girl." He led her into the shade of the trees and noticed an extra picket line coiled up, one end tethered to the tree trunk. He tied up the mare good and tight. "Her wounds don't look too deep, but I want to clean them."
    "I have everything you need." Kit gestured toward the tin on the blanket she'd set out for him. "You look really pale. Are you feeling all right?"
    "Fine." His answer came clipped and short. His jaw was set. He didn't look fine.
    "Maybe you should sit this out." She hated to see how shaky he was. "Let me take over."
    "I'm not made that way." His gait was unsteady as he angled across the yard, but the shadow he left on the grass was straight and strong. Spectacular.
    She was only seeing the good in him, which was proof she'd let down her guard far too much. It wasn't hard to figure out exactly how that had happened. Last night's images rolled into her mind. How he'd taken a bullet for her, and he hadn't so much as whimpered when she had taken out the bullet. He was on his feet today, when a lesser man would still be in bed.
    "How come you're frowning, Kit?" Fred popped a stalk of grass into the corner of his mouth. "Are you worried because we've only got ten fence posts up?"
    "Something like that." She tugged on his hat brim. "What do you think of our first catch?"
    "I think we're real ranchers now."
    "Exactly." She tried not to think of the men who'd been watching them, but her stomach stayed in a hard knot. She couldn't stop an overwhelming sense of foreboding descending on her like a dark cloud.
    "Hey! Someone's comin'!" Fred cocked his head, listening.
    She listened, too. Sure enough, there was the clomp, clomp of an approaching horse and rider, still out of sight.
    Fred leaped to his feet. "Maybe it's Mr. Mason. He was gonna come get me when it's time to smoke the bear meat."
    The bear. She'd forgotten all about it. She intended to help with the smoking, too. But the horse rounding the rise wasn't the neighbor's. Her heart stopped, recognizing the white gelding.
    "Howdy, Miss." Tannen Sinclair tipped his hat to her. "You and I haven't been formally introduced. You're Kit. I spotted you when I was here seeing your father a while back."
    "I remember." Last night flashed to life in her mind, the memories taking her back to being in Blue's saddle, riding him down the street toward home with the poker winnings tucked in her pocket. The bruising grip on her ankle, the yank as she slipped from Blue's back, the shock of pain when she'd hit the ground. Tannen's boot on her stomach pinning her down.
    I won't be afraid of him, she thought, her chin hiking upward. She was the head of the household now. She could handle this. She could deal with Tannen. "You're not welcome here."
    "Is that any way to greet your neighbor?" He swept off his hat. "Here I've come all friendly like."
    He fashioned the hard corners of his mouth into a slick smile. This morning, wearing denims and a tan