The Cowboy's Convenient Proposal. Linda Ford

his cheek before he could corral her arms. She kicked the horse, sending him into a panicked bolt.

      “Whoa. Whoa.” Ward had to turn his attention to getting the horse under control before they both ended up on the ground miles from home. It should have been easy, but Red made sure it wasn’t. He couldn’t hold both her and the horse with only one set of hands, and she slipped under his arm and jolted to the ground.

      “Ooh.”

      No doubt she’d felt the pain of her wound, but he didn’t have time to give her more than a passing thought as he fought to calm the horse. “Settle down. You’re okay.” Free of Red’s vicious kicks, his mount settled.

      Ward turned to see how Red fared. Her skin had turned pale as a sheet. Yet she flashed him continued defiance. He was beginning to understand the peculiar frustration of dealing with Red. He rode to her side and offered a hand. “Come on, get on and I’ll take you—”

      She slapped him away. “I’m going back.” She slapped the horse on his withers.

      Ward held the horse under control. “Look, lady. You’ll be safe from Thorton where I’m taking you.”

      She took a step, wavered. He kind of figured she was a little dizzy and probably her leg hurt some.

      “Leave me alone.”

      “Yes, ma’am.” He kept pace at her side as she took another step and another, continuing to sway like a tree before a brisk north wind. Only difference being a tree had roots that anchored it to the ground. Red had no roots, no anchor. Nothing to keep her from toppling.

      He figured he’d be there when she went down.

      She paused, sucked in air, pressed a palm to her eyes and slowly folded to the ground.

      Ward jumped down and scooped her up. “Here we go again.”

      She moaned. Her eyes fluttered and she sank against his chest. She’d be a whole lot less trouble this way, but for all he knew she was bleeding to death under that crimson-stained dress.

      He kicked the horse into a gallop. “Let’s get home as fast as we can.”

      Red struggled briefly and ineffectively twice more before he topped the last hill. Thankfully the little town of Cross Bar wasn’t any farther away. But at least it was far enough to discourage frequent visits. Maybe far enough to keep Thorton from riding after him.

      He sauntered past the empty winter pens, thudded over the bridge and passed the new house where the foreman, Roper, lived with his new wife and the four children they’d rescued and adopted. Through the kitchen window, Roper saw him pass, lifted a hand in greeting, then saw Ward had his arms full and leaned closer.

      The bunkhouse lay in darkness. The men would be out with the cows or sleeping.

      He glimpsed the empty table in the cookhouse as he passed. His stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten more than a mouthful of that stew back at the saloon. Maybe Cookie would rustle up something for him.

      He continued up the hill toward the big house. As he drew closer, he saw Linette and Eddie through the window. Eddie glanced up as he’d heard the sound of Ward’s approach, and went to the window. Ward waved and motioned toward the woman in his arms.

      Eddie turned away and strode from the room, Linette in his wake. By the time Ward reached the door, they had flung it open.

      “What do you have there?” Eddie called.

      “Woman named Red. She’s been shot.”

      Linette sprang forward. “How bad?”

      “Haven’t had a look. It’s her leg.”

      “She’s unconscious?”

      “Off and on.”

      Linette reached for Red, but Ward didn’t release her until Eddie took her and strode into the house. Ward leaped from his mount and followed.

      “I ought to warn you. She’s a little feisty.”

      Eddie chuckled. “Seems pretty standard behavior around here.”

      Linette’s look held both denial and affection. “Let’s get her into a bed so I can see how badly hurt she is.”

      Ward followed as far as the hallway leading to several bedrooms. He plucked his hat from his head and watched Eddie duck into the doorway Linette indicated. “She’s in good hands now. I’m going to see if Cookie has anything for me to eat.”

      Linette turned. “Wait. Who is she? Where did you find her?”

      He twisted his hat. He knew nothing about her except her name and he wasn’t even sure “Red” was her real name. He’d simply rescued her from a man who ruled with his fists or a belt...likely both and other things as well. “All I know is her name’s Red and she was in a bad situation.”

      Linette studied him a moment, then nodded. “She’ll get the attention she needs here.”

      Ward slapped his hat to his head and headed out the door. He cared for his horse, then went to the cookhouse to seek something to fill the hollows of his hungry stomach.

      Only as he ate the generous plate of mashed potatoes and gravy and thick slices of beef, raised right on the ranch, the food failed to satisfy the emptiness around his heart that he seldom acknowledged...that he’d carried since he’d walked away from his brothers and left them to deal with a situation that mirrored the one he’d found Red in. Sure he’d done it for the right reason, figuring the beatings would stop if he left.

      But how could he be certain they did? Would he ever see his brothers again? Or his mother? Love had made her blind to the faults of the man she’d married a few years ago as a widow. The man who became Ward’s cruel stepfather. Again he reminded himself, love made a person unable to see the facts.

      He pushed the plate away and bolted from the table.

      * * *

      Red sat upright so fast her head spun and pain shot clear through her brain. “Oww.” She pressed her palms to her head. “That hurts.”

      “Take it easy.” Cool hands touched hers. “You’re safe here.”

      Safe? Was it possible? “Where am I?” She glanced around the unfamiliar room. She lay on a bed with a small table across her knees. This certainly wasn’t a room she’d been in before. Dark green drapes hung at the sides of a window. Brilliant sunlight spilled into the room. The bed was covered in a bright quilt full of swirls of color. She stole a glance at the woman before her. “Who are you?” The woman had plain brown hair. Oh, how Red wished her hair was brown and straight and would stay in a tidy bun. The woman smiling at her had the gentlest eyes she’d seen anywhere since Mother died. Red’s throat clamped at a rush of regrets sweeping over her.

      “I’m Linette Gardiner. You are safe in my home. I’m guessing you have your memory back. Perhaps you can tell me a bit about yourself now.” She removed the bed tray on which rested a half-full cup of tea. Red had no recollection of having drunk the top half but it seemed she must have.

      “My memory back? How long have I been here?”

      “Two days.”

      Two days. Her blood burned through her veins with desperate urgency. She tried to swing her feet to the floor and fell back as pain ripped through her head and leg.

      Linette caught her hand. “Sit back and relax. You’re injured.”

      “Am I alone?” She moved her head gingerly, ignoring the pain, as she checked out every corner of the room.

      “You are alone and safe. I know your first name is Red, though I suspect it is a nickname. Can you tell me your full name?”

      “It’s—” She paused.

      “Don’t push it if you can’t remember. I’m sure your memory will return in good time.”