Golden Mustang Read online

  Golden Mustang

  Ranae Rose

  Golden Mustang Copyright © 2011 Ranae Rose

  Cover design by Ranae Rose

  Smashwords edition.

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, names and events are products of the author’s imagination and are in no way real. Any resemblance to real events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

  The scent of whisky lent a permanent sharpness to the air inside the saloon. Hattie hardly noticed it anymore. Picking up an empty glass from one of the rough oaken tabletops, she frowned as a couple remnant drops of liquor flecked her hand, dark amber beads against her creamy white skin. A familiar reflection gazed back at her, distorted by the glass’ curve. Her heart skipped a beat while her stomach fluttered. ‘Tom!’ She couldn’t help grinning. ‘What are you doing here so early? Shouldn’t you be out wrangling some bullheaded mustang?’ He normally didn’t show up at the saloon until well after dark, tired, dusty and more than ready for a drink.

  The sun-darkened horse breaker and hopeful gold prospector – when he had the time – grinned back at her from beneath a fringe of dark hair that was nearly hidden by his wide-brimmed hat. His blue eyes sparkled with suppressed excitement. Hattie considered them his best feature, though the rest weren’t shabby by any means. ‘Normally,” he admitted, ‘but I just had to stop by and ask you somethin’.’

  Hattie eyed him suspiciously. Tom Bradley was not one to abandon his work whenever the fancy struck him. He was, however, persistent, and in possession of a one-track mind that was decidedly stuck on her. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Will you watch the next sunrise with me, Hattie?’

  She nearly dropped the whisky glass. Barely managing to catch it in time, she struggled to smooth her expression. ‘I reckon so,’ she replied, pulling a handkerchief from her bodice and lightly dabbing her face with it. Hell if it wasn’t hot, even inside the shady saloon. She wouldn’t have Tom see her sweating like any one of the cowpokes and prospectors who frequented the place. ‘Is that all you wanted?’

  A telltale sparkle still lingered in his eyes, rekindling her suspicions. The secretive half-smile that appeared on his handsome face didn’t help either. She leaned across the table, putting her face just inches from his after shooting a quick glance to either side to make sure no one was listening. ‘Listen Tom! Is this about…’ she looked around again, just for good measure, ‘…you know! Because if it is, I told you-’

  ‘No, no!’ he said, his spurs jangling against the floorboards as he took a step backward and waved his hands for emphasis. ‘It’s not that at all.’ His eyes traveled the length of her body, slowing over a couple of especially interesting areas. She arched an eyebrow and he returned his gaze to her face, his obvious lust momentarily quelled. ‘Not this time,’ he added.

  ‘Then what’s all this about?’ She pulled out her kerchief and gave her brow a quick pat. It was too hot for solving even the smallest mystery. She gave Tom a meaningful look, fixing his blue eyes with her green ones.

  This time, it was he who cast nervous glances from side to side. ‘I don’t really wanna risk anyone overhearin’. I’ll tell you later, when we’re alone.’ He finally unlocked their gazes, and she had to give him credit. He only let his eyes wonder to the cleavage swelling about the neckline of her dress for a second. He must really be serious.

  He was normally an easy-going man. Whatever had him in such a secretive mood had to be— ‘Tom!’ The obvious struck her like lighting, not that there’d been so much as a drop of rain lately. She had to force herself to lower her voice. ‘Have you…discovered something?’ Despite her best efforts to keep from getting excited, her heart leapt. Suddenly, the sunlight streaming in over the tops of the swinging doors seemed more brilliant than ever. It lay across the floor in golden bars, the sight of which caused her heart to jump again. Could he really have…

  ‘Well, yes and no,’ he replied, spinning his hat in his hands. ‘Sorry Hattie, that’s all I can say right now.’

  She shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, and gathered another abandoned glass from the table. ‘Meet me in front of the saloon an hour before sunrise?’ Tom asked.

  She nodded.

  He grinned and bent to plant a soft kiss against her cheek.

  ‘Not at work, Tom,’ she said, turning aside demurely. ‘The other boys will think you’re getting fresh with me.’

  He made a sound of dismissal somewhere deep in his throat. ‘Oh please, Hattie – anyone who’s been to the Crazy Horse knows I’m head over spurs in love with you.’ He looked her directly in the eye and shot her a playful grin that just about melted her heart.

  ‘Well then,’ she replied, refusing to grin back like she wanted to, ‘they’ll just get jealous. Either way, behave yourself.’ She allowed herself a small smile before turning toward the bar, an armful of empty glasses in hand. Her fiery red hair swung over creamy-white shoulders that were bared by a neckline that didn’t come anywhere near her neck, and her vivid emerald green skirts that had been sewn up to expose even brighter petticoats rustled. She knew Tom wouldn’t be the only one to stare after her, but he was the only one she cared about.

  ****

  The dusty street outside the Crazy Horse Saloon was relatively quiet in the hour before dawn. Hattie took a deep breath, enjoying an almost silence that was a rare treat to a saloon girl’s ears. A soft symphony of jingling and clopping announced Tom before he became visible. Eight hooves beat a placid rhythm against the dirt as he appeared, mirage-like at first, solidifying as he neared her in the darkness. The warm smell of horses greeted her along with his smile, and an unfamiliar animal reached out with a pink nose to nuzzle her arm. ‘This isn’t one of your half-trained, half-crazy works in progress, is it?’ She eyed the animal that Tom was ponying along on a rope from his own mount, prepared to jerk her arm back out of biting-range if need be.

  ‘Of course not!’ Tom sounded affronted. ‘This mare’s as sweet as sugar, and a redhead, too. I brought her with you in mind.’

  Hattie eyed the sorrel mare again. Eyes bright, ears forward…she didn’t look half bad. Still, it was a relief to hear Tom’s assurance. He prided himself on never letting a horse go until he’d ridden it, and some of the animals he took on were crazier than the Crazy Horse itself. She climbed into the saddle and took up the reins. ‘Where are we going to watch the sunrise from?’

  ‘Red Point Rock.’

  ‘Red Point Rock? That’s a bit of a ride from here, isn’t it?’ Good thing she’d worn her most comfortable riding dress. It didn’t have the sort of plunging neckline Tom enjoyed in her work gowns, but that was just as well – her breasts would have bounced right out of one of those dresses if she dared to let her horse break into even the slowest of trots.

  Tom nodded as they began to ride out of town. ‘How was the rest of your day at work?’ he asked as they passed the general store and a notorious house with red lanterns glowing in the windows. The things that went on in there made Hattie’s most revealing dress look like a nun’s habit. A shiver raced down her spine despite the heat as she considered the poor girls who were forced by circumstance to resort to scraping a living under red lantern light.

  ‘Oh, not bad,’ she replied, eager for a little fun to dispel the disturbing thoughts the sight of the brothel had conjured. ‘I received a marriage proposal.’ She smiled quietly
from the saddle as Tom nearly jumped in his.

  ‘A marriage proposal? From who?’ His horse gave a snort as he tightened his grip on the reins.

  ‘Warren Ross.’

  ‘Warren Ross? Isn’t he married?’

  ‘His wife died in childbirth just last week.’

  ‘Well, he didn’t waste any time mourning did he?’ Tom’s done was derisive, but not surprised. Nobody who knew Warren Ross – and everybody knew Warren Ross – would be shocked by his behavior. Hattie would rather marry a donkey than that particular man.

  She nodded, eyeing the way Tom held the reins. He’d hardly loosened his grip, despite his horse’s head-tossing protests. She’d only meant to have a bit of fun… ‘I told him no.’ She’d thought that went without saying. Warren had struck a minor gold vein months ago, but that didn’t make him any less of jackass. Tom’s shoulders relaxed a little when she spoke, and a pang of guilt shot through her heart. ‘Oh Tom, did you really think I’d say anything else?’

  He shrugged and stared down at his saddle horn. ‘I don’t know, Hattie. Sometimes I think you’re never gonna marry me. And Warren hit that gold vein…’ A wistful look crossed his face.

  Hattie frowned. ‘You make me sound downright coldhearted, Tom.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Hattie didn’t miss the slight edge to his voice. No doubt he did think her coldhearted. The thought set off a familiar ache in her heart.

  ‘You know I love you Tom.’

  ‘Yeah. I just wish that was enough to convince you to be my wife.’

  Hattie sighed. They’d had this conversation many times before. She’d wanted him ever since the first time he’d walked into the saloon, spurs jangling and his blue gaze landing directly on her. He knew that. He also knew she’d become a saloon girl so she could live a relatively comfortable life with a full belly, unlike the hopeful prospectors’ and hard-working horse hands’ wives, most of whom tended large flocks of children in poverty. Was it really cruel of her not to marry Tom when it would mean living in such a way? She didn’t want that for him or herself. Even less did she want to bring a bunch of children into such a lifestyle. And she had no doubt that they’d end up with quite a few children if she married Tom. Still, these conversations had left a crack in her heart. It widened each time she saw the familiar disappointed look in Tom’s eye.

  She wasn’t really coldhearted though – after all, back when she’d come out west to find work as a saloon girl, she’d sworn she’d never marry anyone. Tom had changed her mind, at least halfway – she’d made it clear that she’d gladly marry him if he became capable of providing a comfortable existence for a future family. He usually didn’t press her, but Warren’s proposal must have struck a nerve.

  ‘So, you gonna tell me why we’re heading to Red Point?’ she asked, deliberately changing the subject.

  Tom eyed the dusty landscape, where the occasional cactus or larger than usual rock were their only companions. Apparently satisfied they were finally alone, he replied. ‘Like I said back at the Crazy Horse, I’ve discovered something. It’s not gold, but it might be just as good as, if I can get my hands on it.’ Hope flickered in his blue eyes, and Hattie’s curiosity sparked.

  ‘What is it?’

  He shifted in the saddle, looking uncharacteristically nervous. ‘Have you ever heard the old Maidu legend about the sun stallion?’

  Hattie shook her head. Her hair, which she’d plaited into a long braid, swayed between her shoulder blades. ‘No.’ The men who patronized the Crazy Horse loved to swap tales, and she’d overheard quite a few. Never anything about a sun stallion, though.

  ‘Neither had I until a few days ago. A Maidu girl told me about it, and—’

  ‘Been spending a lot of time with Maidu girls?’ Hattie shot Tom a teasing smile. She’d seen Maidus on occasion, with their rich brown skin, exotic tattoos and glossy black braids. But, treated as poorly as they were by most of the white settlers, they didn’t frequent the town.

  Tom’s expression was solemn. ‘I ran into her out in the desert. I was after a mustang. And I guess you have the right to know…’ He turned the full force of his gaze upon her.

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘That she asked me to marry her,’ Tom finished.

  Hattie erupted into laughter at the idea of an imaginary Maidu girl finding Tom in the desert and proposing to him. ‘Oh, really?’

  A smile finally broke his serious façade. ‘Yep. And don’t think I didn’t consider it! You know how some of those Maidu men have more than one wife? Well, I figured if I married her, you might just get jealous and decide to follow suit.’

  ‘Well, that’s a new tactic.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Tom said, the ghost of a smile still on his lips, ‘the Maidu say that when the sun sets and rises, it’s led beneath the Earth for the night and up into the sky to light the day by the sun stallion. He’s a mustang with no mares, no herd…his only care is for the sun, and leading it where it needs to go. They say if you go to Red Point Rock and watch the sunset or sunrise, you might just see him.’

  Hattie scoffed. ‘If you ask me, it sounds like they’d thrown back a little too much of the ol’ fire water when they made that one up.’

  ‘They didn’t make it up, Hattie.’ Tom’s smile was gone.

  Hattie rolled her eyes. ‘Please, Tom. You really believe those old legends?’ She raised an eyebrow in his direction.

  His solemn expression didn’t waver. ‘I’ve seen the stallion myself. I put my own hands in his hoof prints, Hattie. He’s real. I would’ve brought you to see him at sunset, but I know you can’t get away from the saloon then.’

  Hattie’s stomach shriveled. There was no sign of a joke on Tom’s face, and his blue eyes were flashing with determination. Determination to get her to believe in some ridiculous old Indian legend, as if he didn’t know perfectly well that she’d do nothing of the sort. She bit her lip, torn between the urge to giggle and to sigh. Either would have hurt his feelings, so she remained silent.

  ‘I knew you wouldn’t believe me,’ he continued, ‘so I brought you out to see for yourself.’

  ‘Alright then. And what if we do see a horse alone out in the desert when the sun rises? Will you expect me to believe the legend, then?’ She wasn’t about to throw common sense to the wind in the event that some bony old mustang wandered across their path.

  ‘Oh, he’s no ordinary horse.’ Tom shook his head. ‘You’ll know him when you see him.’

  They rode on for a few minutes in silence, until it was pierced by the howl of a coyote. Another answered it, and Hattie frowned. It was downright spooky, riding through the dark and hearing their eerie chorus, the cries seeming to come from every possible direction. Tom shot her a concerned look. He knew the sound bothered her, which made her feel cowardly. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, squaring her shoulders with as much dignity as she could muster.

  ‘Alright.’ Tom faced resolutely forward with just a hint of a smile on his lips…one that Hattie would have liked to smack right off. Or maybe kiss right off, which brought up another point…

  ‘Don’t you go thinkin’ that I’m gonna jump into your arms just because of a few mangy old coyotes.’

  ‘Well, just the same, I won’t hold it against you if you do.’ He turned to face her with a broad grin that showed just how white and straight his teeth were, even in the barely-there light that was all the early morning desert had to give. ‘No one but us and the coyotes would know, and your secrets are always safe with me.’

  It was half-tempting, but she wasn’t about to admit that to Tom. Doing so would put a chink in her willpower, and she’d resolved not to let that happen. Jumping into Tom’s arms out here in the dark, solitary desert could only lead to one thing, and her traitorous body was already tingling at the mere thought of it. There was only one problem.

  There was no way she could let him make love to her. If she gave into her desires and let that happen she might get pregnant, and there would go her freedom and comfortab
le life, right out the window. She’d held onto her virginity like a drowning woman grasping at a branch protruding from shore. If she didn’t have sex, there was no way she could end up wrangling a bunch of half-starved children out on the cruel, dusty frontier. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t think about it. Heck, sometimes Tom got her closer to actually acting on those thoughts than she cared for, what with those blue eyes and his kisses…

  ‘Hattie?’

  She turned to face him, glad the darkness hid the blush that was creeping across her cheeks.

  ‘We’re almost there.’

  She squinted into the distance, where she could just make out the looming shape of Red Point Rock.

  ‘So is this all about romance?’ Hattie asked when they’d stopped the horses where the mammoth stone’s shadow would lie later that day. ‘Cause you seemed awful anxious about makin’ sure that no one else found out back in the saloon.’ At least he had a care for her reputation.

  ‘No, it’s not just about romance,’ he said, muttering something that might have been ‘fortunately’ under his breath. ‘It’s about the stallion. I wanna try to catch him and tame him.’

  ‘Catch the legendary Maidu Sun Stallion?’ She arched an eyebrow. ‘Why?’

  ‘You’ll understand when you see him. A horse like him would be worth a fortune.’

  Hattie cringed at the hope that saturated his voice. Was he really expecting he’d be able to make his fortune and all of his dreams come true, based on some silly old legend? Had she really been cold-hearted – had she driven him to such ridiculous lengths? Desperation threatened to overwhelm her. She had to find a way to bring him down before he got crushed. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give him a good kissing – to lift his spirits, of course.

  ‘Look,’ he said, expectant. ‘The sun is rising.’

  Hattie turned her gaze from Tom to the horizon, where the fiery sphere of the sun had just begun to peek over the desertscape, painting the sky orange. It was beautiful, and it was certainly romantic, but there was no horse to be seen. Hattie kept her eyes trained on the horizon, her stomach in knots, wishing that there really was a sun stallion so she wouldn’t have to watch the light go out of Tom’s blue eyes and his shoulders slump on the ride back to town. A fiery sliver of light stretched across the dust, and she braced herself for the agony of Tom’s disappointment.