Love on the Range (Brothers in Arms #3)(16)

Wyatt reckoned he’d feel bad, too. And having just healed up from being shot, he had no wish to repeat the experience.

He still almost turned back. Fear of getting shot wasn’t enough to stop him, so he near ran to the barn in the brisk wind and the blowing snow. None was coming down now, but what was already on the ground danced as if it were thrilled to be here on earth.

He saddled up a pretty sorrel gelding and rode hard for Cheyenne and Falcon’s cabin. It wasn’t far, which was the thing Wyatt liked most about it, but still too far—because they should’ve just stayed put. Stayed right there in the house instead of leaving Wyatt all alone with beautiful, yellow-haired Molly.

But Cheyenne was gone with her husband, reminding Wyatt he’d lost his place in his sister’s life.

Just as Molly had lost her place in her brother’s.

It made sense that he and Molly could find what they’d lost by turning to each other.

But he didn’t know how to make her see sense.

He had two brothers. One of them had talked the prickliest woman in the whole territory of Wyoming into marrying him. The other one might shoot him just for bringing up his worries.

It was easy to choose Falcon to talk to.

Kevin would probably be cheerful enough about Molly marrying Wyatt and staying at the ranch, but he might not like all that went into bringing her around.

Wyatt was well and truly chilled by the time he got to the line shack. He hadn’t been over this way for a while. Looking at the cabin as he rode up, he was struck by it being really small. Cheyenne was used to a fine house. This cabin had a main room that Nate Brewster had built in his bachelor days, then he’d added on a single bedroom when Ma had married him. Grandpa had lived in a house of similar size. After Nate died, Grandpa built the big house and welcomed Ma and little Cheyenne home.

There was a little entry room. That room slowed down the wind and kept the cabin warmer. The cabin was tightly built. There were sturdy shutters on the few small windows, a good wooden floor. Cupboards and a dry sink inside.

A windmill spun like mad in the late fall wind, and a small barn stood behind the cabin with room enough for a couple of horses and leather. A corral was tacked onto the barn.

That was it.

Wyatt heard chopping in the nearby woods that grew on a slope heading up the hill behind the cabin. Falcon must be fetching kindling for the fire. Instead of seeing if Cheyenne was in the house, he circled the house wide enough so that Cheyenne wouldn’t notice him and rode toward the sound of the chopping.

“Falcon?” Wyatt stopped while he was still well back. He was a cautious man and had no desire for a felled tree to land smack on his head.

The chopping stopped. Falcon came rushing out of the forest, ax raised. “What happened?”

Falcon was always ready for trouble.

“Nothing happened.” Wyatt swung off his horse. “I . . . well, I thought, maybe, uh, you could . . . could use some help over here.” This wasn’t quite true, but maybe chopping wood next to Falcon would help Wyatt get his thoughts in order. Of course, his arm was still a little tender.

“You can’t chop wood the second day you have your sling off. We talked about it last night, and you agreed. So what’s the matter?”

Wyatt met Falcon’s eyes. They were a match in very few ways. They both had Clovis’s eyes and the dimple in their chins. That was all that was the same between them.

“H-how . . .” Wyatt’s throat went a little dry. He hitched his horse to a sapling and walked over to face Falcon, putting off the moment he had to speak. He wasn’t much for talking about his troubles. Truth was, until Clovis’s will, he’d’ve told you he didn’t have any troubles. Well, except for stampeding cattle and unbroken mustangs and gunslinging rustlers, and the occasional rattlesnake, wolf, avalanche, blizzard, that kind of thing. But no real trouble.

He swallowed hard. “How did . . . did . . . did you, um, uh . . . talk Ch-Cheyenne into m-marrying you?”

The tension went out of Falcon’s shoulders. The furrows on his brow smoothed out. Then he grinned. “Trouble with Molly, huh?”

Wyatt felt his face heat up. Being embarrassed was stupid, so instead he got mad. He wanted to slug Falcon in the face and stomp off. But then who’d he ask?

Falcon watched him mighty close—still grinning. And Wyatt had a feeling Falcon was reading what went on inside Wyatt mighty clear.

Including the punch. And he wasn’t one speck afraid.

“Cheyenne’s gonna notice I quit chopping. We really oughta go in and talk about this with her.”

“No!” Wyatt was horrified. Cheyenne would never let him—

“What’s the matter, Wyatt?”

He spun around to look his sister in the eye. She probably saw almost as much as Falcon. She knew him mighty well.

“Having trouble with Molly again?” she asked.

“How do you both know this?”

Cheyenne didn’t smile, not like that half-wit Falcon. Instead, she came up and slung an arm around his shoulders. He wondered if Kevin and Win knew, too. He might’ve saved himself a long ride if he’d just dragged Kevin out of the house and talked to him.

“I think Molly is falling in love with you,” Cheyenne said.

Wyatt’s hopes soared.

“Nope, that ain’t right.” Falcon came up beside Wyatt but didn’t touch him.