Page 13 of Waiting for the Rancher
He wanted to say so much more—wanted to tell her he appreciated that she’d come back to work, that she’d taken the time to listen to his side of the issues, that she’d tried to understand all of the dynamics at play, that she hadn’t laid all the blame squarely at his feet. He appreciated all of that and more.
But at the moment, he needed to put a safe distance between them and clear his head. Without another word, he turned and forced himself to walk away.
5
“Tonight’s the night.”
Hazel rubbed her practiced hands over Tiny’s udder. It was tight and engorged. The mare had also been running milk all day and had waxed up, the secretion on her teats another sign that she was foaling.
“You sure?” Maverick stood on the opposite side of Tiny in the large area of the barn they reserved for foaling. He was skimming her full abdomen. “She doesn’t feel like she’s dropped.”
Hazel smoothed a hand across the mare’s belly too, feeling the tautness and the slight movement of the unborn foal. “Usually I’m spot on.”
“Not last time.” Maverick’s tone held a note of teasing.
“I’ve only been wrong twice this spring.” She brought a comforting hand up to Tiny’s chest, rubbing the mare affectionately. She was a mahogany bay Morgan but had been born more petite and delicate in appearance, earning her the name Tiny. “I have a pretty good record.”
“I reckon it’s all right.”
She paused and straightened, glaring at Maverick over Tiny’s withers.
He grinned back at her. He’d discarded his hat and coat, and now the last rays of the evening light coming in the high barn window glistened on his dark hair. Even messy from a full day of work, his hair was wavy and scattered over his head in a way that practically begged a woman to drag her fingers through it.
His eyes were equally enticing, the blue almost a violet color the same shade as the sky outside. And that grin? It was a killer just like always, making his handsome features come to life.
“Aw, c’mon now, Hazel.” He drawled out his words, almost as if he were flirting with her. Almost. But she’d watched him flirt enough over the years to realize the difference between his teasing and flirting. For one, his grin was different. With her he always kept it friendly, without that devilish gleam. And for two, he never called herdarlin’the way he did all the other women.
Just once, she wished he’d give her his devilish grin and call herdarlin’. She was embarrassed to admit it, but she’d been filled with a strange, keen longing ever since earlier in the week, that first day she’d been back at work when he’d come out to the corral and told her the truth about Violet at the wedding.
She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she’d caught him looking at her bosom. If he really had, he certainly hadn’t done it for long. Even so, she’d felt a strange awareness of his presence ever since, as if somehow her body was attuned to his nearness and came more fully to life whenever he was around.
It was silly, really. He’d never looked at her as a woman, only as a sister, and he wouldn’t start now. Not when everything was so tense between their families. Sterling had pressured her several more times during the week to stop working for the Oakleys. Even though Alonzo had continued to drive her over to High C Ranch every day, his glare was always in place as he pulled up in front of the horse barn.
Thankfully, Clarabelle and Clementine had welcomed her back to the ranch as easily as Maverick had, treating her with as much friendliness as always. And Mrs. Oakley was always welcoming. The dear woman had grown increasingly frail and rarely got out of bed anymore. She slept for long stretches, but whenever she was awake, she was as easy to talk to as ever.
The local doctor, Dr. Howell, hadn’t been able to diagnose her ailment. The only conclusion he’d been able to draw was that she might have cancer.
Whatever the case, Hazel did her best to check in on Mrs. Oakley as often as possible. She’d always been like a second mother over the years, so sweet and kind and inviting. During the early years, she’d made the transition to the West more bearable, becoming like family to fill the empty spot created when they’d left all their family and friends behind.
Hazel had only been nine at the time her father had decided to move his law practice from Wisconsin to the West. Like many others, he’d been lured by the tales of gold. Since he’d always had a small farm, he’d wanted land in Summit County too.
At first they’d homesteaded the one hundred sixty acres allowed under the Homestead Act. But her father had eventually purchased much of the surrounding countryside, so that he’d become the largest cattle rancher in Summit County.
He’d also invested in several mining claims that hadn’t netted him much in terms of gold. But just last year, silver and lead had been discovered in one of his mines, and now he’d turned his attention to the lucrative deposits, leaving the overseeing of the ranch to Sterling.
Maverick’s brows rose. “You know you’re the best at foaling in these parts. Ain’t no one who can do it better than you.”
She snorted and bent to finish her examination of Tiny. “You’re just saying that because you know if I go home with Alonzo, you’ll be stuck doing the foaling all by yourself.”
Alonzo was still waiting outside the barn, and she didn’t want to send him back to the ranch without her, not if Tiny wasn’t really in labor. In the past, Maverick would have hitched a wagon and brought her home himself. But they both knew he couldn’t do that tonight, maybe not ever again.
Yet if she stayed overnight and Tiny didn’t go into labor, she’d risk angering Sterling all the more for lingering unnecessarily. And this week, and maybe for many weeks, they all were treading carefully around Sterling, trying not to do anything that might make him more upset.
“Maybe I should go.” She tossed the words out halfheartedly.
“You know I can’t come get you later. If I step foot on your ranch, Sterling’s gonna shoot me full of lead—”
“He won’t do that.”
