“No, but thank you for asking.”
“Then I’ve some reading I want to catch up on. Have a good rest of your evening and thanks for dinner. I’ll see you in the morning.”
And he walked out and left her alone in the kitchen. She told herself good riddance because she’d had enough of his company and nosyquestions for one night, even as a voice inside called the lie.
The following morning, after feeding the horses, Spring looked around the landscape surrounding her place and decided the snow had melted enough to make the trip to her brother’s place.
McCray had breakfast started when she entered the house. “Morning,” she said. The air was fragrant with the scent of bacon.
“Morning.”
He paused scrambling the eggs to take her in while she did the same, and for a moment that was all either seemed capable of doing. Whatever was happening seemed to be growing but she was determined it not become any stronger. Pulling herself free, she said, “The snow’s melted enough that we can ride over to my brother’s today. It’ll be muddy, but I don’t think it’ll be too bad on our mounts. Is your knee healed enough to ride?”
He nodded.
“If my brother’s back, he can take you into town to get your room.”
“And if he isn’t?”
“Then I guess I’ll have to do it.”
“I don’t want to impose upon you any more than I have already.”
“If I don’t take you, who will? I can ask Odell if you prefer.”
“No. I’ll take your company over his any day.”
“He’s not so bad once you get to know him.”
“If you say so. Once I get my gear packed, I’ll be ready to leave. How far away does your brother live?”
“On horseback about twenty minutes. It’ll probably take us a bit longer today with it being so muddy.”
“Does he live on a ranch, too?”
“No, but he has a fair amount of land.”
After breakfast they saddled their mounts.
“That’s a fine-looking stallion,” he said to her as they rode slowly out to the road.
“This is Cheyenne. Have had him now about eight years. He was a sickly foal when I found him. I don’t know if he lost his mother or got separated from his herd, but he was near death, so I brought him home. We’ve been together ever since.”
“I’ve never seen such a magnificent animal.”
“There are hundreds of wild horses here. Wranglers bring them in, break them, and sell them. Where do your horses come from back East?”
“Usually from the owners of horse farms, but I’ve no idea where their stock comes from. Many breed them, I suppose.”
“You should always know where your mounts originate. Some sellers aren’t always honest. If you don’t know what to look for they can take advantage and stick you with a sick or deformed animal.”
“I’ll remember that.”
As they kept the horses to a slow walk down the road, Spring wouldn’t admit to having enjoyed McCray’s company, only that he’d been a houseguest she hadn’t immediately wanted to be rid of. It made her wonder if that meant she’d been lonely over the course of the long winter months. Having her breakfast prepared for her had been novel, and holding conversation with someone other than her horses had been, as well. Usually when she wanted talk or company, she rode over to Regan’s or Odell’s. Rarely were conversations held at her table.
She glanced his way and wondered what he thought of her. Not that it mattered. She made no apologies for who she was, but knew she probably wasn’t like his female acquaintances at home. Would he go home and make jokes to his friends about her buffalo coat, buckskins, and unconventional ways? Not that that mattered, either, or at least she told herself it didn’t. Being a hothouse flower needing care and watering by a man wasn’t anything she desired to be. Like many unmarried women in the West, shesaddled her own horse, chopped her own wood, and shoveled her own snow. Society dictates or not, she didn’t want children—never had, which would undoubtedly shock any man loco enough to come calling; not that there’d been any nor would be, for that matter. And that meant she wouldn’t have to worry about being challenged to change her mind.
“What’s it like around here in the summer?” he asked.