Jodi Thomas - Texas Rain

Past the group of men, she saw something move. She stared, frozen, watching the form of a man take shape from the darkness. He shifted again so slightly she wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been focusing. Rainey recognized him. The tall-as-an-oak stranger. He stood alone near the horses, his hat low, not even allowing moonlight to touch his face. She tried to remember what he'd looked like when he'd apologized for tripping over her, but she couldn't envision his features. Only solid muscle.

One of the cowboys saw him, too. "Hey, you. What you doing over by our horses?"

Another youth turned toward the stranger. "Yeah, you didn't ride in with us. I been here over a year and know most men who work in these parts. Where're you from?"

A stout cowhand, who sounded like he'd had more than his share of whiskey, walked toward the tall man. "I don't believe I've seen you before, either. You're not from around here. Who invited you?"

The tall stranger appeared to be deaf. He made no attempt to answer their questions or explain why he came to the dance.

The thought crossed Rainey's mind that if the cowhands found the horses untied, they might think the stranger did it.

She took a step toward the men. She might be a horse borrower, but she couldn't stand by while another took the blame for something she'd done. It wasn't her way and never would be, no matter how much she wanted to stay invisible.

The cowhands seemed to read her mind. They all turned to the stranger asking questions so fast he couldn't have answered them. Strangers in this part of Texas were not uncommon and oftentimes meant trouble. Since the Battle of the Alamo, every outlaw in the States and Mexico seemed to have found his way to Texas, blending in with the just plain folks already living here. She wasn't surprised the cowhands didn't give the stranger a chance.

But he wasn't helping matters, remaining silent as a post. Rainey didn't miss the way his hand slid down his leg as if feeling for an invisible gun. He must know he was in trouble. Ten to one were poor odds, even for a man built of oak. In seconds they'd find the untied horses, and the stranger would be blamed.

Without further thought, Rainey headed for the drunken group. She had to stop this before the silent man was beaten to a pulp.

Running past the cowhands with their angry shouts, she flew right toward the stranger.

She closed her eyes and braced for the impact, but at the last moment he caught her and lifted her off the ground. He swung her around once, then eased her to earth as if he'd done so a thousand times.

Rainey laughed at the sheer joy of feeling like she'd taken flight. Then, before he could say a word, she circled his neck with her arms and, standing on tiptoes, touched her mouth to his. When she pulled away, she laughed. "Sorry I'm late, darling."

On impulse she touched her lips to his again and felt him smile as he held her to him for a moment. The warmth of his mouth against hers surprised her. His big hands circled her waist, and in this stranger's embrace she felt safe for the first time in months. She was almost sorry when he straightened and ended their play-like kiss.

The cowhands backed away. Questioning a stranger was one thing. Interrupting lovers was quite another.

Rainey barely noticed them walking back to the barn. Suddenly she became very much aware that she was plastered against this silent man who hadn't done a thing to save himself. She lowered off her toes, her body moving down his. Through their layers of clothes she felt the lean strength of him.

Her fingers crossed his chest as she wondered if a heart beat beneath the wall of muscle.

"Want to tell me what's going on?" he whispered against her ear as his hands gentled to almost a caress at her waist.

Rainey looked up, trying to see his face. His voice was rich, but not all that friendly considering they'd just kissed. If she could call pressing her lips against his kissing. She had a feeling there was more to the act, or couples would have given it up ages ago.

"I had to do something to save ye, lad. Those men were about to find out…" She hesitated, realizing she couldn't very well tell him what they were about to discover or she'd be admitting her own involvement in the crime. She didn't have the time to tell this stranger how desperately she needed a horse so she could travel with the wagons tomorrow to the fort a few days away. He probably wouldn't understand, or care.

She didn't have time to explain, but she seemed to have the time to continue leaning against him as if he were the first lifeline she'd encountered in this sea of wilderness. How could the feel of a man silently comfort her?

"Before they found out what?" His low words brushed across her cheek. His question came slow, almost forced from him as if he would have been content to simply stand beside her but knew he had to talk.

He stood so still waiting for her to finish her sentence that she feared he didn't breathe. Her hand reached just inside his coat and touched his chest once more, spreading across his heart. She'd never been so bold and surprised herself by realizing she felt a need to touch him.

The tip of her fingers brushed metal, and without seeing it, she knew he wore a badge. Her fingers traced the outline of the cold steel. A circle star. She'd heard of the men who pinned on such a brand. They were called Rangers. Hard men who saw no bend in the law.

Rainey pushed away, missing the nearness of him while the heat of his body still warmed her skin but knowing he wouldn't understand. Closing her eyes, she pledged to be more careful. "Oh, and what does it matter anyway? If ye're too dumb to try and save yourself, I may just be wasting me time fretting over ya. Maybe I should let them beat you senseless?" Frustrated, she turned away. This was not the time to find herself attracted to a man. She had far greater problems.

She took one step before he caught her wrist in a firm grip. "I was in no danger." His voice came low again. Velvet in the night.

She tugged at his hold, but he didn't release her. She slowly pivoted to face him, looking up into the shadows of his face. "Ye may not have thought ye were in danger facing ten men, but if you don't turn loose of me, you'll be meeting your Maker by midnight."

He released her hand. "I'm sorry to have detained you," he said, touching his hat in polite salute. "I thank you for saving me."

He removed his hat, and she noticed dark hair a bit longer than most, a straight nose, high cheekbones, and brown eyes that stared with a coldness she found frightening. Maybe this man had been in no danger.

"I'm Travis McMurray." He offered the hand that had just been restraining her a moment before.

Rainey tried to remember the name she'd been using of late. "Molly," she blurted. "Molly…"She tried to think. It was something Irish, but what?

"Give it time." Laughter flavored his words. "It'll come to you, kinda like that accent of yours tends to."

She straightened her back, trying to look taller-trying to control her anger. He'd noticed. She couldn't help but wonder what else the man had noticed about her and her business. If there was one thing she hated above all else it was people not minding their own business. No matter how good he felt, she could do without his prying.

Taking a step toward the barn, she glanced back and said without any accent at all, "And to think, I wasted a good kiss saving your life. I should have let the men bash your head in, for they'd surely find no brain to inhibit their progress."

He had the nerve to fall into step with her as if he'd been invited. The man truly had no sense of danger. They were almost to the barn before he spoke in a voice so calm it surprised her. "Will you dance with me, Molly, or did you just come to steal a horse?"

Suddenly too many people were near. She couldn't risk arguing with him. So she lifted her head and took his hand. "I did no such thing," she lied as he pulled her close. "I came to dance."

He winked at her. "Sure you did, Molly," he whispered near her ear as he pulled her into the crowd of dancers.

This time the warmth of his touch felt familiar, and she allowed herself a moment to enjoy it knowing that when the dance was over she'd be forcing it deep into her memory. His hand spread solid and strong across her back, warming her skin through layers of fabric. When he turned to face her, she fought the urge to rise to her tiptoes and kiss him.

Rainey laughed at herself. Even being near him was like juggling fire. Yet she realized that if this were another time, another place, Travis could be a man she'd find worth knowing. But for the moment she could pretend she didn't have to disappear in a few hours and she had the time to dance.

A few minutes later she decided that if Travis McMurray had ever had a dance lesson, he should demand his money back, as he apologized for stepping on her foot. Either his feet were too big, or her arms too short, because they didn't seem to go together at all. When he wasn't bumping into her, they were trying to go opposite directions, looking as if they were in some kind of strange tug-of-war set to music. She decided watching his boots was her only defense as the music played on.

He was busy apologizing for the third time when the torture finally ended and she looked up. To her surprise, the man of oak was smiling.

"Where'd you learn to dance?" she asked before thinking.

"I didn't," he answered, "but it didn't look all that hard."

His words were so honest, so true, she had to laugh. His eyes turned warm, and she knew without a doubt that she'd discovered one of very few things in this world that Travis McMurray couldn't do.

A pretty girl appeared at the oak's side. "If you're going to dance, Brother, you'll have to dance with me next."

Rainey felt his grip on her hand tighten as though he didn't want to let her go.

His sister insisted.

Travis's fingers squeezed Rainey's hand once more before stepping away.

She looked up and saw a promise in his brown eyes. A promise she knew he'd never be able to keep.

Rainey watched as the young woman in lace and ribbons pulled him away. Though he argued, he gave in. While they tried to dance, Rainey Adams slipped away. She hadn't come here to dance, or for that matter, to kiss a stranger. She had a mission. It was time to get to work.

He might suspect her if she took a horse from the line, but Travis McMurray would never know if she borrowed one from the wagons.

Travis handed Sage the blanket from beneath the buckboard seat and climbed up beside her for the ride home. Thin wisps of clouds floated in the night sky, but any threat of rain had vanished.

She cuddled into the wool and asked, "Now, explain to me how you could possibly give away one of Tobin's matched bays to a total stranger?"

"It's not important." Travis stared at the pale lines of dirt marking the wagon tracks and hoped the night stayed clear enough to see them until he reached the bridge. From there, he could drive home in total blackness; he knew his ranchland well even after being gone most of ten years.

Sage would not drop the question. "I'm glad you see it that way, because I promise you, Tobin won't. He raised the two from colts, training them together from the beginning. You know a matched set like that is worth five times what just two horses would be. And, if I know Tobin, he's got buyers waiting for them."

"Tobin has trained a hundred others exactly like them over the years." Travis tried to make light of the fact that when he went to get the wagon, one horse had vanished. "You ever figure maybe Little Brother spends too much time with the horses?"

Sage refused to be distracted. "But how, without saying a word to me about it, could you give away one of the McMurray horses? I could understand if you lost it in a bet, or sold the set. After all, we are in the business of raising and selling horses."

Travis didn't want to talk about it. How could he explain that the first girl, besides his sister, he'd ever danced with had stolen the bay? Or at least he thought it was the green-eyed girl who'd kissed him.

He didn't know for a fact that she did it. Maybe someone else decided the best horse at the annual bam dance to take would be the one that belonged to a Texas Ranger. It had to be her, whatever her name was; no one else would have been so brave. Most of the people around here knew the horses belonged to the McMurrays, and no one would ever be fool enough to try and steal anything from a McMurray again.