Page 20 of A Curse On Black Lake (Black Lake Gothic Cowboys #1)

Chapter fifteen

Killian

What could be bigger than being framed for murder? “I think it’s the only way to keep the Sheriff from arresting me,” I tell her.

“Makes sense, but we barely know each other. Will he believe me?” she asks.

“I don’t know, but it’s worth a shot. It’s probably the only way I can get ahead of this.”

“Do you think there’s evidence anywhere else? Because I have a sneaking suspicion, the Sheriff will be back,” she says.

Sliding my hands into my pockets to keep from hugging her out of gratitude, I look down at the dirt. “Maybe, but I’m going to have to look around.”

“You mean, we,” she says, enunciating the word.

I cough, clearing the tightness in my throat. “Yeah, we. Thank you,” I tell her.

“No problem,” she says, like she didn’t just save my ass from prison time.

I study her for a moment, and not a glint of judgement reflects in her striking eyes. Everything about her has accepted me as is, and something about that makes me not feel so alone. She’s weird, no question about it, but she’s growing on me.

“What do you want to do with this?” she asks, pointing to the bra.

“Don’t touch it, and put it in your saddlebag.”

“Okay,” she says, leaving the trees with the bra on a stick in front of her.

Frustration builds, and I kick a small rock on the ground. If I were Wyatt and I had the evidence stacking up against my suspect, cousin or not, it would be hard to refute. But I’m not the law anymore, so — what evidence?

Plus, I don’t have enough evidence to support an alternative theory of who did this. And whoever it is, is either incredibly clever, covering their tracks, or they are trying to get me out of the picture. But why?

We get the other group of cattle moved and head to the next. I’m running significantly fewer cattle than we used to when Dad was alive. But I’m only one man, and I’m running more than I should now.

“How many head of cattle do you have on the land?” Eliana asks.

I sigh. “It was four hundred.”

“Now it’s three hundred and ninety-nine,” she says.

I grunt.

“I don’t know how you’ve managed to keep up with all of this on your own.”

“I haven’t. It’s why I took you up on your offer,” I say, trotting next to her.

She smiles and tucks a piece of hair that escaped her baseball hat. “You didn’t hire temporary ranch hands?” she asks.

I stare at her on Chester, with her chaps, as if she belongs there, belongs here. My chest gets tight again, and I try to breathe through it.

“Killian?” Eliana says.

“Hmm? Oh, sometimes or when Wyatt had a chance to help me. The dogs help a lot too,” I tell her.

She glances down at Lucky and Moonbeam, attached at the tail.

“They’re smart.”

I hum, and we stop at the entrance of the barn. Chester is happy as a clam because he’s been out and about, and I know Daisy is done with my ass for the day.

“I still need to exercise your other horse like you asked,” Eliana says.

The sun is going down, and I’m dog-tired. I don’t know how she’s still walking, but based on that garden, she’s used to backbreaking work.

“I’ll get the stalls mucked out.”

“I’ll help you. I really don’t mind,” she says.

“Suit yourself,” I grumble.

Eliana finds the pitchforks, and I drag the wheelbarrow over to the first stall. Going back to the other side of the barn where hay is stored, I grab an empty wheelbarrow and toss a bale of hay into it.

When I come to the first stall, Eliana is sliding her chaps off, and I can’t take my eyes off the action. Nothing about it is sexy but … the way those chaps cover her thighs makes it hard to look away.

“Got what you need?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say, setting the wheelbarrow down. She grabs a pitchfork and starts mucking out the stall, and I follow behind. Our shoulders brush, and I swear my heart tumbles in my chest every time. It’s irritating because I won’t act on the attraction — I can’t.

After the first stall, we do it again, and when we bump into each other, I catch her staring, but don't acknowledge it.

When we finish mucking out the stalls, I saddle Sunny for her. “I want you to know, Sunny is broke. He’s a good horse, but he’s also an asshole.”

Eliana giggles and reaches for him, petting his black face. I watch him carefully because I wouldn’t put it past him to bite her. He bit me last week.

“I think he’s picky about his person.”

“Or he’s just an asshole,” I mutter.

She leads Sunny out towards the training circle. He’s taller than Chester and a little beefier than a typical American Quarter Horse.

“He’s so tall. What breed is he?” she asks.

“He’s a Friesian. Normally they’re way easier going, but Sunny isn’t, and I think he does it only to piss me off.”

Eliana lifts her foot to his stirrup and misses. Sunny is a solid two hands taller than Chester. She tries again and grunts in frustration.

“Here,” I tell her, grabbing her hips, and she jumps again. With my help, she gets a few extra inches to get her foot in the stirrup and swing her leg over.

“Thanks,” she breathes.

I nod and step back, my hands still tingling from touching her.

“Can you get the gate?” she asks.

Pushing it open, I let her through, then step out of the circle, closing it behind me.

Somewhere along the line, she took off her baseball hat and undid her ponytail.

She bounces along with Sunny, and her white hair flies behind her.

Ignoring my chores, I lean against the fence and watch her ride in circles, then change it up, going back and forth, and sideways, enthralled with her connection to this horse.

He doesn’t fight her or threaten to buck.

He follows her promptings as if they’ve been working together for years.

Eliana leans over and whispers something to him, and he dips his head as if he understood her.

She continues for another twenty minutes, and I watch her lips move, speaking to herself.

When she finishes another circle, she comes up to me, pulling Sunny to a stop. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s an angel,” she says.

Sunny shifts on his feet, and I shake my head. “Or maybe you just have a way with men.” I didn’t mean to say it like that, but I’m starting to think she does. This woman is dangerous for me. As for Sunny, he must know something I don’t because he loves her.

“You can put him out with the others after I unsaddle him,” I say, throwing open the gate.

She urges Sunny to step through, then stops. “What are you doing for dinner?” she asks.

“Honestly, I forget to eat, too tired to make something before I pass out,” I say.

“Well, we’re going to change that tonight. It gives us time for you to explain how we met and convince the Sheriff that we’re in some kind of secret relationship.”

“The fact that he saw you the other day helps support the alibi.”

“I guess it does,” she says, and gets down. I stand at her side, helping her drop the extra inches she wasn’t expecting. “Thanks,” she says, still holding my hand.

“No problem.” I quickly drop it and step away, giving her space.

Eliana stands on her tiptoes to undo Sunny’s bridle, and to my amazement, he dips his head so she doesn’t have to reach as she pulls it off. “I usually wait to pull that off until I get him into the paddock.”

“He won’t need it,” she says.

“What the hell is it with you and these animals?” I ask her.

She shrugs, gathering the ends. “I don’t know.

I figured it out after my…” she trails off and looks away for a moment.

“When I started living with Grams, she had the goats and the cow. Then she decided we needed a horse. They’ve always responded to me this way.

She told me it’s because I straddle the line, and animals recognize it. ”

“Straddle what line?” I ask her.

She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’m not sure you’re ready to hear that,” she says.

I hum and unstrap the saddle girth. The saddle tips and I pull it off of Sunny’s back, hauling it to the tack room. I’m not going to push her to tell me something she doesn’t want to say, but I have to admit, I’m intrigued.

Before I step into the barn, she pats Sunny’s neck, and he follows her like a puppy to the paddock. As the sun sets, it lights a golden glow around her, and my chest does that weird thing again.

I miss my dad. He would like her, and for some reason that hurts even worse. I fell apart when he died, and haven’t been able to return to any semblance of the life I had since.

With Eliana so strangely in the picture now, I’m not so sure I ever will. It feels like everything is changing because of her.

After I put the saddle away, I go back out to get Eliana, and she’s leaning against the fence watching the horses graze. Her head tilts back with eyes closed like she’s trying to soak it all in, like she feels at peace when she hasn’t for long enough to forget what it feels like.

I recognize that look. When you don’t feel the grief for a second, for a brief moment, long enough you can breathe. Then, when you open your eyes, it’s whisked away an exhale later, and you go back to not being able to breathe right.

She stands up and turns around as if she’s been caught.

But I stay in the shadow of the barn, watching her from afar. It feels like there’s a link between us, dragging our souls together whether we want it or not.