Free Texas Homecoming by Leigh Greenwood Page B

said.
    “Believe what you want. Just keep him away from me.”
    Earl had launched into a scurrilous depiction of the history of Broc’s family, past and present, with some pointed observations on the circumstances of his birth, when Bullet started to whine. Earl only shouted louder. Even Pilar could tell that someone was coming and wasn’t trying to be quiet about it.
    “Look at your dog now,” Broc said. “You can’t tell me he’s not a coward.”
    Bullet had taken up a position behind Earl and set up a mournful howl. He was pushing up behind Earl, his head between Earl’s legs.
    “He’s trying to get me to go after the damned sneaks,” Earl argued.
    “That’s nobody trying to sneak in. They’re riding in making plenty of noise. I suspect it’s Cade. He always did like night better than day. You can tell your dog to stop sticking his nose up your butt. There’s nobody going to hurt him this time.”
    Earl started shouting at Broc again. Pilar focused her attention on the patch of silvery landscape to the west. She made out moving shapes in the distance. Lots of shapes. Horses. As they got closer, she heard shouts, yells, and calls of the men driving them.
    Pilar experienced an unexpected feeling of excitement. She moved a few steps from the door, reached out for a rail post, leaned against it. She told herself it was reliefthat the men were safe, that they had found the horses, that they would be able to round up and sell their cows, that somehow this would lead to her and her grandmother going home and everything being all right again. She told herself it was relief that whoever was out in the brush was gone, that they wouldn’t come back, with so many men at the ranch.
    But the moment the riders came close enough for her to identify individual men, she knew it was all a lie. She knew that every bit of her excitement was for Cade’s return.
    Pilar sagged against the rail post, needing the support to keep her from sinking to the floor. How could this be? Cade had been her enemy her whole life.
    Just looking at him caused her heart to beat faster. The moonlight was incapable of turning him into a ghostly image. He looked as vibrantly alive, as smilingly handsome as ever. All the men were in high spirits, but his good humor leapt the distance between them. She could almost believe he was reaching out to her, pulling her into the aura of high spirits that surrounded him. When he looked at her and let out a whoop, she was certain of it. When he separated from the group and rode toward her, she felt her strength drain away.
    He leaned out of his saddle to shake hands with Broc, spoke to his grandfather, then brought his horse right up to the steps. He looked down at her with a look that hurtled her back to the day he’d swept her up on his horse for that impossible ride, a juggernaut driving all before him.
    That’s how he looked tonight—happy, confident, successful, and so handsome it was impossible not to smile back.
    “We brought back more than fifty horses and we’re starved,” he said. “If I help, do you think you could rustle up something for us to eat?”

Chapter Six
     
    As he breathed deeply to savor the aroma of stewed beef, a smile of contentment spread over Cade’s whole face. “You can’t know how often I’ve dreamed of this,” he said to Pilar. “A man can get awfully tired of his own cooking.”
    “Especially when he’s no good at it,” Owen said.
    Pilar had been a little angry that Cade’s first words to her had concerned food. Consequently she didn’t understand why she didn’t mind cooking so late at night or why she was actually cheerful. She should have been furious.
    “Sit still until I finish sewing up this wound,” Holt said to Owen. “You’re lucky that mare didn’t kick you. Not even your hard head could withstand such a blow.”
    A mustang had charged Owen’s mount, knocked him out of the saddle, and caused him to cut his head on a rock. Holt cleaned and