Kisses With KC (Cowboys and Angels Book 11)(18)

Eliza couldn’t despise her broken leg or the limp that resulted. Many wonderful things had come out of it, and she knew that if she had to make the choice to go through all of that again, knowing the consequences, she definitely would. For one, the other women were freed because of her breaks. She had landed in a way that held the door open for them to escape. For another, she had avoided a disastrous marriage by revealing a man’s true nature. And now her limp would forever remind her that the Lord’s ways were not her ways, and all of her experiences had truly been a gift of grace.





7





KC Murray



MayBelle appeared in front of KC. He could see every one of her square white teeth shining in the dark as she brayed, her mouth opened wide in front of him. He had followed Eliza out the barn door when she’d run to the ice house. He didn’t know what she was thinking, but she was upset—at him. He had to try to make it right with her. Her happiness had become the most important thing of his life.

He knew it now—he wasn’t going back to the Pinkertons. He wasn’t even leaving Creede. If she was here, he would be too—if she’d have him.

Every which way he turned to move around the donkey, she popped up right in front of him. Her whole body wiggled like an excited pup.

“You’re enjoying yourself,” he accused her.

She swished her tail and pranced in place.

He faked left and ran right, fooling her for a second. MayBelle was right behind him. He only made it three steps before he felt her teeth chomp onto his britches, then haul him back to the barn before letting go. “I’m not getting past you, am I?”

She shook her head, her ears flopping up and down while she gave him another toothy grin.

In the distance, a lightning-white glow shone around the door to the ice house. The miner was in there with Eliza. What was that about? The minutes ticked like hours. What could the angel say? Could she even see him, or was it only KC who saw that light?

Why had she run? KC couldn’t answer that question. They’d talked about a few things before she left. None of them seemed to be a problem—kisses, homesteading, milking, Pinkertons, Baldwin, Holmans, and the land office. He didn’t have a clue what had gone wrong.

Finally, the old prospector came walking toward them. He stopped in front of MayBelle. “Have I ever told you that you’re a great partner? That was some good work you did on him.”

MayBelle made a happy snort that vibrated through her snout.

“What do you mean, I’m your partner?” the miner asked her.

MayBelle snorted again.

“I am not the sidekick. You are.” Then he pointed to the center of his chest with each word as he said, “I’m the angel.”

MayBelle whinnied. As soon as the miner opened his mouth, she whinnied again and continued every time he tried to speak.

“Fine. You’re an angel too.”

MayBelle stamped her hooves and clomped into the barn before the old prospector said, “Don’t listen to her. I’m the angel. Sometimes it’s best to let her think she’s won an argument.”

“What were you doing in the ice house?” KC asked.

“Just chatting it up with Eliza.”

“Could she see you? I mean, you’re my guardian angel.”

“Don’t get your chaps in a wad. I’ll be there for you when I’m needed, which ain’t right now.” The man disappeared.

Inside the barn, MayBelle whinnied again, and it sounded strangely like “I’m the real angel” to KC. He shook his head. Now he was starting to hear things from the donkey.

The next morning at breakfast, KC had little to say, and Eliza had less. Ellis and Kailin looked between them frequently, and both ate fast and left the room. KC hadn’t eaten much. The flapjacks stood in the middle of his plate, and Eliza’s egg yolk was still unbroken.

He sat silently, not knowing what to ask. If he asked her if she was mad at him, and she was, she might get madder because he had to ask. KC thought that was a bad idea. If he simply asked her what was wrong, she might get madder because he should probably already know what was wrong. He dismissed that strategy. Tension was building between his shoulders. Maybe if he sat there long enough, she might offer up some hint that would help him figure it out. That might upset her, too, because he should be the one to bring it up. The uncertainty was squeezing his chest. He’d faced outlaws and robbers feeling less tension than he felt now.

Apologize. That was always good, wasn’t it? He thought it over. I’m sorry, Eliza. What can I do? It was vague—good. It was sincere—also good. It would get something started—extremely good. Stop thinking about it and just do it. He opened his mouth—

“I’m sorry, KC.” Eliza looked down and folded her arms over her stomach.

His mouth hung open, and his brain stalled. He was completely lost like in a January blizzard. He had no idea where he should go. He wasn’t about to accept that apology—she’d done nothing wrong. He finally had enough presence of mind to snap his mouth shut.

She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. Uh-oh. He’d been quiet too long. He said the first thing that came to his mind. “Eliza, I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.” Anything! It was completely honest but possibly stupid. He waited for her reaction.