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"I
am, my name is Caroline Brunswold," Serene said hesitantly. It was the
first time she had used the name for herself. It did not feel
comfortable. Neither was she comfortable with the closeness she was
forced to share with the grinning stranger. Serene found herself
avoiding his blue-eyed gaze.
"We've been expecting you," was all he said in reply.
"What
is your name? How long have you worked here?" Serene asked, glancing
down at his bare hands on the reins. She felt a need to pass the time in
friendly conversation. Silence, she decided, would only make the
situation more awkward. "Do you work with the sheep?” she asked. "You
mentioned children. Does my cousin Joseph have many?"
Serene felt the man's chest rumble with laughter before she heard his
amused chuckle. She flushed with embarrassment, forcing herself to stare
at a lone bird, probably a hawk, soaring in the distance.
"You
ask a lot of questions," the cowboy said, his warm breath tickling her
ear.
"And
I'm likely to ask a lot more!" Serene retorted, facing him then, her
brown eyes flashing with resentment. As soon as she had spoken, she
wished she hadn't. Serene bit her lower lip after catching a quick
glimpse of one dark, arching eyebrow, and his look of mild astonishment,
even amusement, at her display of temper.
"Must
be the red hair that makes you such a spitfire," he teased.
Serene bristled and turned her face again to glare at him indignantly.
He struggled to hold back a grin, but the laughter in his blue eyes was
unmistakable. Immediately, Serene thrust out her chin. Spitfire indeed!
"Who are you? What's your name?" she demanded.
"More
questions?" the cowboy drawled good-naturedly. "I guess you did warn me
though."
Annoyed by the man's jesting, Serene turned her face away. She pouted
and hated herself for doing so. She wished she could return his teasing
banter, she'd seen other girls do so, and the men enjoyed it. But Serene
had always been too serious-minded. She had never laughed much, never
found much to laugh about. So, annoyed with herself and even more
annoyed with her companion, Serene remained silent and sulky all the way
back to the house where they found Fickett pacing the veranda anxiously,
his fists thrust deep into the pockets of his frock coat. Bernadette was
leaning upon a porch post, shading her eyes from the sun, studying the
horizon.
"Señór
Fickett, she is here!" Serene heard the housekeeper exclaim and saw her
point in their direction. The woman raced off the porch steps and made
her way towards them.
The cowboy reined in his horse. When Bernadette noted Serene's bloody
hands, her torn skirt, she broke into a babbling tirade in her native
tongue. The cowboy dismounted and lifted Serene gently off his horse. He
said something to Bernadette in Spanish, and the woman nodded
vigorously, clutching Serene by the elbow and hurrying her toward the
house.
"What
happened?" Fickett demanded suspiciously as Serene came up the porch
steps.
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