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Salvation in the Rancher's Arms(47)

By:Kelly Boyce


She placed her hand on his shoulder. Muscle shifted beneath her light touch, sending tremors shooting up her arm. He started to move. She stumbled again, forgetting the steps, her mind and her memory a jumbled mess.

“Easy. Just one step at a time,” he whispered, his voice traveling beneath the tone of Ethan’s playing.

Caleb’s movements were smooth, and soon she found her rhythm and followed his lead. His gracefulness surprised her, a complete contrast to the hard man who had shown up at Robert’s funeral and turned her life upside down. Only a couple of weeks had passed since that day, yet it felt as if a lifetime had gone by. She opened her eyes and glanced up to find him watching her. A rush of desire swept through her. She tried to beat it back but remnants remained, prickling her insides and making her ache.

“Where did you learn to dance?” she asked.

“Picked it up along the way.”

The vagueness of his answer piqued her. “Anywhere in particular?”

“Here and there.” His steady gaze never left hers, making it hard to concentrate on her questions. He had a way of frazzling her thinking until it twisted around itself and refused to come out right.

Caleb spun her around, drawing her closer, his movements not exactly matching the tune Ethan was attempting to play. It was as if he had a different song going through his head. She wondered what it was, where it came from. Who had he danced with before? Did he have a sweetheart stashed away somewhere? A wife?

The thought struck out of the blue. She had assumed he didn’t, but he wouldn’t be the first man to wander about looking for work, leaving a family somewhere, going back to them from time to time when the mood struck.

She fought to steady her breath. If he did have a wife and family, likely he would move them here, settle down for good, maybe. Had he already sent them word? Was he simply biding his time until they arrived before breaking the news to her? And where would that leave her when they did? No wife in her right mind would let a widow with a brood of people depending on her stake a claim to her home. Or her husband.

Not that Rachel was looking to stake a claim.

“Are you married?” She choked the words out.

Surprise registered in Caleb’s eyes, but it was a fleeting expression like a light breeze that touched down and disappeared before you had a chance to truly enjoy it. “Why?”

Rachel shook her head. “It just occurred to me you might be.”

“I have no wife.” He said the words, but his gaze skittered away, looked over her shoulder at some point beyond.

She breathed easier upon hearing his answer, but something about his reaction left her unsettled. Before she could consider whether to question him further, the front door slammed open and Brody flew through the opening, his eyes wild and his breath coming in gasps.

Caleb and Rachel jumped apart.

“What are you doing, Brody? You scared the life out—”

“Len didn’t come back...went lookin’...he’s hurt bad...gunshot...horse threw him...think his leg is broke...”

Rachel grabbed Caleb’s hand without thinking. “Help me get the buckboard. Brody, get Freedom to stay with Ethan then meet us at the barn. Go!”



“It’s a clean break,” Dr. Bolger said, coming out of the back room where he treated his patients. Unlike Merrick, Dr. Bolger tended to those who still had a pulse.

He wiped his hands on a clean towel then hung it on a hook protruding from the wall. “Should heal up fine providing infection doesn’t set in. I’ll keep him here until the worst has passed. Safer than trying to get him back to the ranch over rough road and messing up my handiwork.” The doctor smiled through his meticulously trimmed gray beard, his blue eyes twinkling.

Rachel slumped against the wall where she had been waiting impatiently for the doctor’s verdict. He was a direct man, thorough and not given to sugarcoating matters. If he said Len would be fine, she believed him. It was a relief. Finally, some good news.

Dr. Bolger walked over to the potbellied stove near the window and pulled down three mugs, pouring a generous helping of steaming dark liquid into each of them. The enticing aroma of coffee filled the room. He handed her a mug, and another one to Caleb, who had waited with her quietly, offering comfort if not conversation.

The doctor took a seat at the long table and motioned for them to do the same. Rachel was thankful for the offer, her legs were about to give out. Caleb waved it off, standing sentinel behind her.

“You want to tell me what happened? Len said someone shot off a gun close enough to make his horse rear up and throw him. Can’t see any of your boys being so foolish.”

Rachel winced as the hot coffee burned its way down her throat. “My boys aren’t. Len was out fixing the fence bordering on the Double K lands.”