Free Dorothy Garlock by The Searching Hearts

hardly aware he’d said them.
    The splash of the water kept her silent. She felt the horse slip once on the rocky bottom of the creek, and she tightened her arms around Buck, hugging close, her face resting against him. The arms that enclosed her also tightened, and she felt the heavy pounding of a man’s heart against hers for yet a second time. She leaned against him as the horse climbed the bank. When they were on level ground, she raised her head and could hear the men shouting at the excited mules.
    “Hee-yaw . . . ya bastards! Hee-yaw . . . ya goldurned ornery, stubborn jackasses!”
    Laura’s pounding heart released a flood of happiness that was reflected in her brilliant smile. Buck feasted his eyes on her face, her cheeks pink with excitement, her tumbled hair as gold as a prairie sunrise. Now that he had moved back from the creek and
stopped the horse, he could look at her, really look at her.
    “Do you think the mules understand those cuss words, Mr. Garrett?”
    Her delight in everything astounded him. “They seem to,” he said slowly.
    She laughed again, and he thought it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. He liked the feel of this small, trusting girl clinging to him. God! What would it be like if she were his own?
    “Have Tucker and Lottie crossed yet?”
    “They’re about to.”
    “Oh! Tell me about it, Buck,” she said, using the familiar name for the first time.
    His name came from her lips so easily. He could only think her name in his thoughts . . . Laura, Laura, Laura. “They’re coming down the bank a slippin’ some, but it don’t make no never mind to Lottie.” He stopped, thinking he had said enough.
    “And Tucker? Is she still in the wagon? Is Tucker all right, Buck?”
    “She’s all right. She’s standin’ behind the seat a crackin’ the whip.” He laughed. It wasn’t a chuckle this time but a real laugh, the third one in the last ten minutes. That was more than he’d laughed in the last ten months! “She sure can handle that whip.”
    Laura grabbed his hand and held onto it. “Yes, she can. She taught me to use it. I can snake it out and make it crack. Are they in the creek yet?”
    “Yes. Lucas is alongside. He won’t let nothin’ go wrong.” His hand turned over and clasped the one
lying on his own, and the unexpected grip of her small hand made his heart gallop.
    The wagon rolled up the bank and onto the level trail, and Buck had no choice but to move his horse toward it. Tucker was waiting to guide Laura’s feet to the wheel and her hands to the frame so she could pull herself over onto the seat. The horse stood patiently, and the hands at her waist lifted her. She was laughing as she turned to sit down.
    “That was exciting, Buck. I almost hope we have more creeks to cross.”
    “Ma’am.” Buck lifted his hand to the brim of his hat and touched his heels to the horse.
    “Thank you, Buck,” Laura called.
    Tucker watched the scout move away. It was the first time she had seen him up close.
    “What does he look like, Tucker?” There was a funny tremor in her voice. “Tell me what he looks like. He’s young, isn’t he?”
    “I’d say so. Somewhere below thirty. It’s hard to tell.”
    “He was nice,” Laura said. “And . . . shy.”
    “You talk enough for two,” Tucker teased.
    “I had to drag every word out of him.” There was a gentle smile on her face. “Tell me what he looks like,” she repeated softly.
    “I’ve not seen him out of the saddle, but I don’t think he’s real tall. Not as tall as . . . Mr. Steele. He’s got dark hair and . . . there’s no whiskers on his face. His brows are straight and his lashes are thick, so I didn’t see the color of his eyes. His nose is in the
right place. I’d say he’s not the most handsome man I ever saw, but he’s not the ugliest either.”
    “I liked his voice. He has the softest voice I ever heard.”
    “Humph!” Lottie snorted. “He’s a breed. Ever’body knows