A Cowboy To Keep

Calling 911 wasn’t an option, even if she could get a signal. She’d avoided law enforcement since running from her Oklahoma-issued arrest warrant six years ago. Officers asked too many questions. Might connect her to the worst mistake of her past. Were within their rights to extradite her... She tamped down the horrible, nightmare thought.

He gazed at her steadily. “So. Are you shooting me? My arms are getting tired.” He rolled first one, then the other shoulder. Didn’t look bothered a bit.

And that bothered her a lot. Time to throw this fish back in the stream, much as she’d like to get to the bottom of his visit. Since an access road to the Pike National Forest crossed the property, sometimes disoriented stragglers turned up. It’d be naive of her to think a man like him would get lost, though. An armed man...

Keep him talking or get rid of him? Seeing as she was alone, she’d go with the latter.

“Where’s your vehicle?”

“Outside the gate.”

“Let’s go.” She nodded toward the entrance, down one of the dirt paths crisscrossing the property. It passed the two-story main lodge and the corral where they brought saddled horses for daily expeditions.

“I need my gun.”

Her eyes widened. “Not on my property.”

“I need my gun.” His tone sounded easy as ever, yet steel had entered it. An implacable quality that suggested a man used to getting what he wanted.

“Then you shouldn’t have dropped it.”

He lowered his head and peered at her from beneath his brows. “I’m not leaving without it.”

“If we agree that leaving on a stretcher is an option, then go for it.” She didn’t even try keeping the sass out of that one. In the oddest way, she enjoyed the tightrope feel of this conversation. Recognized it from the days she’d run with the wrong crowd until that fascination had come back to bite her. Hard.

But she wasn’t the kind of woman who enjoyed that sort of thrill anymore... Resentment rose at the glimpse of her old self. She’d worked too hard to start over, to become a better person, to ever go back to the way she’d been.

He rolled his eyes skyward and his chest rose and fell. “Ma’am. I have no quarrel with you. Let me have my gun and I’ll be on my way.”

She blew out a breath. “Kick it over here.” He did, and the Glock skidded to a stop at her feet. “Don’t move unless you want your head blown off.” At his nod, she snatched it up and straightened, her rifle still trained on the trespasser. “I could shoot you. It’s the law.”

“But you won’t.” He lowered his arms and crossed them.

There was a breathtaking silence as that sank in. Her mind raced wild along its trail. “How do you know?”

“You ever shoot a man?”

Heat crept up her neck. She willed herself not to turn red like she always had, growing up, when caught out. “Have you?” she challenged, and lifted her chin. Tried looking tough. Lord, she hoped she looked tough.

He gazed at her steadily, and she clamped her teeth together. Swallowed hard.

He sauntered closer and she stared, mesmerized, the way a hare does when cornered by a western rattler. With a small push, he nudged her rifle barrel down. She breathed in the pure male scent of him. Not so much unwashed as worked hard. It made her nostrils flare. Her palms began to sweat. He wasn’t a man to tangle with.

“I want my gun.”

His words snapped her out of her trance and she backed up a few steps. Her mind turned in circles. She was fooling herself to think she had the upper hand here. Time to level the playing field. She tucked her rifle under her arm, pulled back the Glock’s slide to remove the chambered round, yanked out its magazine and tossed the empty gun back.

He caught it neatly with one hand. “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll see myself out.”

“I’ll be right behind you.”

His eyes gleamed. “And here I was, thinking you didn’t like me,” he said, and there was the corner of a grin there, bitten back as he holstered his gun.

Arrogant bastard. “I like your back. Intend to watch it as you go.”

His low chuckle made her flush again and then he strode away without a backward glance. Pebbles grazed the bottoms of her feet as she hurried after him, slightly dizzy. Off-balance. Bats called, up in the dark air. A clump of aspens leaned in the wind, intent, watchful. The rush and whisper of them roared in her ears.

At last they reached the gate and her fingers trembled on the keypad.

“No need.” He scaled the fence and dropped neatly on the other side. The moonlight glinted on his white teeth as he smiled. “Thanks for the tour.”

He tipped his hat and she watched him go. Studied the shadows long after they’d lost sight of him, too. She gripped the gate’s metal bar when her knees turned wobbly.

What had he wanted? Not to harm her, it seemed.

Would he come back?

Given her past, she wasn’t in any position to be spending time with dangerous men. But, suddenly, she wanted to know more about the scarred man who both frightened and fascinated her.

She gave herself a mental kick and headed back to her room behind the stables.

Bad boys.

She’d more than had her fill of them and wouldn’t let another occupy her thoughts. Not when the last one nearly destroyed her life. Not when, with her recent promotion to stable manager, she’d finally achieved the security that’d let her put her past behind for good.

The stranger’s striking face returned to her as she slipped under the covers. She punched her pillow. Hopefully she’d never see him again.

She wasn’t so sure her resolve would be up to the test.

* * *

JACK’S CELL BUZZED beside his plate of hotcakes the next morning. He nodded to the Shawnee Diner waitress holding a coffeepot, slid his mug to the edge of the table and brought the phone to his ear. It was a three-cup morning. He’d been up since four hanging flyers for his bail jumper, adrenaline jittering through him at the thought that he might be on the trail of his brother’s killers—and the redemption he desperately needed.

“Jack.”

“Mr. Cade, this is Diane May, owner of Mountain Sky Dude Ranch. I’m sorry we didn’t return your call last night. My husband forgot the charger and...” At a gruff throat clearing, she switched gears. “Anyways, how can we help you?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the approaching server. She crept forward, her expression wary. She looked ready to bolt at any sudden movement. He held still. Funny how that pretty gal last night hadn’t seemed the least afraid of him. He smiled inwardly as he recalled her sass, her humor, her bravado. “I’m a bounty hunter looking for a fugitive who’s worked for you.”

A gasp sounded, followed by, “A criminal? One of our workers? Who?”

Murmuring rose on the other end and Jack kept his face averted out of habit when his waitress poured the coffee then scuttled behind the counter. The cash register dinged as the joint’s only other customer checked out. A banjo and fiddle mingled in a broadcasted bluegrass tune.

The small restaurant must have been retrofitted from one of the old train cars that ran through this area once, he mused, waiting for someone to come back on the line. Its old-time booths rose high and pressed against small windows. Scuffed wood floors ran the length of the narrow space. An antique mirror reflected the space from behind the polished counter.

“Mr. Cade, this is Larry May,” came a man’s voice. “What’s going on?”

He glanced down the length of the empty restaurant. At the opposite end, the waitress leaned on the through-window and gossiped with the cook. No one to overhear.

“I’ve got a Failure to Appear warrant for Bill ‘Smiley’ Reno. He’s accused of drug possession and is a person of interest in a murder case.” Steam curled from his black coffee. Using the side of his fork, he cut through his short stack.

“Smiley? I think there’s some kind of mix-up. One of our groundskeepers goes by that nickname, but his name’s Ned Terrill. He’d never do anything like that.”

Butter and syrup melted on his tongue as he finished chewing and lowered his fork. “Ned Terrill’s an alias.” A phone shrilled on the counter and the waitress picked it up. Outside, a passing pickup honked at a couple of teenagers smoking beside the sidewalk’s geranium-filled planters.

“Can’t be. He showed us a driver’s license. Social Security card, too.”

“Fake.” The bitter black coffee stung the inside of his cheeks as he gulped.

He waited for the man’s sputtering to fade and ate more of his breakfast as he eyed the blue sky that domed over the small city. A good tracking day; he needed to get back on that ranch fast. A picture of the dainty woman who’d confronted him last night came to mind. She’d bristled like she stood ten feet tall; the image made him grin. It was a damn unfamiliar feeling.

“Who can we contact to verify your information? I don’t mean to be rude, but this is a bit of a shock. We’ve known Smiley for years. Our employees are like family.”

“Don’t mind at all.” He supplied Mr. May with contact info for Randall Cook and Lance, hung up and went back to eating. Sympathy for the couple rose. Most folks didn’t have much experience with the seedier side of life. They took people at their word. Saw the good since they hadn’t experienced much of the bad. His gaze drifted to his cell, willing a fast callback. It was eleven o’clock. Half the day gone and he didn’t want to waste more.

He crunched on a bacon slice and recalled how he’d been held at gunpoint by their caretaker last night. Impressive for a civilian... Not that her bold move would deter him from returning and catching his man—or men.

The woman had grit, and she’d piqued his interest nearly as much as this case had. Still, he wasn’t about to chase after romance as well as outlaws. He needed to focus on this case, not get sidetracked. His mission was about justice and putting bad guys away—not about finding personal happiness he didn’t deserve. Until he caught his brother’s killers, his own life would take a backseat. It didn’t begin to pay the debt he owed, but it was a start.

Plus, a face like his induced nightmares, not dreams... Strange how she’d stared right at him and hadn’t seemed put off. In fact, she’d gotten in his face, challenged him and he’d liked it. No denying that.

His cell vibrated.

“Mr. May.”

“Yes. I, uh, talked to Sheriff Covington, who spoke highly of you. I reckon what you’re saying about Smiley is true, although you left out the part about there being two people wanted on that murder.”

“It wasn’t my news to share. Do you know anyone who goes by the name Everett Ridland?”

A pause, then, “Nope. Doesn’t ring a bell. You think that could be the other fellow?”

“It’s possible.” He didn’t say the unspoken...that if Smiley had a job at Mountain Sky Dude Ranch using an alias, so might Everett. But what would tie them to the property? “Is it all right with you if I look around the place for the two men? His family says they dropped nearby a couple of days ago.”

“My stable manager’s up there alone, Jack.” Larry’s voice grew muffled and he heard him tell his wife to start packing.

“I believe I met her last night. Thought a late-night look-see might be a good idea until she pulled a rifle on me.”

A chuckle rumbled through the phone. “Sounds like Dani.”

“Dani...” Jack prompted, absurdly curious for her full name. The way she’d been filling his thoughts all morning was aggravating, his anticipation to see her again undeniable.

“Dani Crawford. A Texas gal. Used to be a competitive show jumper. We met her through our son, Ben, who was on the same tour. Sure wish he was here. I’d like his opinion on this, but he’s away on business in some rain forest and we can’t reach him. Maybe you’ve heard of his company? Therm Tel? They work with alternative energy.”

Jack shook his head and said, “Sounds like an interesting line of work.” Diplomatic. Then, “So, would it be all right if I stop by the ranch again?”

“Well. There’s one more thing. See, Smiley’s girlfriend works there and she’ll be arriving sometime today. Smiley and she live together in one of our staff houses.”

Silence descended. The bell above the door jingled when a family of four burst inside, a gust of humid air and the smell of exhaust hot on their heels. Jack’s mind turned over the unexpected information. “I stopped in a few local businesses this morning to inquire if anyone had seen Smiley around town. The owner of Timberland Outfitters said he sold Smiley some camping gear and supplies recently. Is Smiley’s girlfriend the type to help him hide out?”

“Tanya? Nah.”

Jack swallowed his last bite and lowered his fork. Seconds passed as he waited for Mr. May to rethink that answer.

“Well,” the man said at last. “Course, I wouldn’t have suspected Smiley, either. There’s lots of places to hide out around there. Most of the old copper mines are blocked, but not all. Got the Pike National Forest next to us, too, plus the Continental Divide. Some ravines are so steep you’d never find them ’less you fell in.”

“Sounds like I’ve got my work cut out for me. I’ll need Tanya’s address to request a search warrant.”

“Technically, she’s living in employee housing and her residence agreement gives consent for searches, but better be safe than sorry. Though I urge you to use your discretion, Jack, and find another way to sniff around without raising suspicions. Same for the cabins. Our first guests arrive day after tomorrow and I don’t want them scared off.”

“By Smiley and his friend, or me?” Jack asked after jotting down the information.

“Both. No offense. But folks will get spooked if they think a wanted man’s around.”

“If I don’t find him before they arrive, I’ll blend in. You can say I’m one of your new hires. A wrangler. That’ll give me an excuse to ride around.”

“You know anything about horses?”

Jack pictured a Christmas photo taken of him and his four brothers and sister, Jewel, lined up on horseback. He’d been ten, his youngest brother, Jesse, one. He swallowed hard. “Enough.”

“Good. Staff arrives today and tomorrow, so no one will think anything of a new wrangler joining the crew. I suppose I’ll need to hire a new groundskeeper,” the owner mused, as if speaking to himself. “And a new cook, if I let Tanya go.”

“No.” Jack beckoned the waitress for the bill and fished his wallet from his back pocket. “She might lead me straight to him and his partner. Got the best chance of doing that if no one knows why I’m there.”

“Except Dani,” Larry cut in. “She’s our manager and needs to know what’s going on.”

A paper receipt fluttered to the tabletop. Jack didn’t bother looking at it, his mind full of the gutsy woman who’d looked all too comfortable with a rifle.

“She saw me on the property last night. Looks like she’s already in the loop, though I would have preferred otherwise.”

“Diane took Dani under her wing when she lost her mother while on tour. She turned to us for a job when she quit show jumping. We trust her and so can you. And she’ll be a help.”

A long breath escaped him. He wasn’t exactly the trusting type. Despite the Mays’ assurances, he’d keep his eye on Dani. “I prefer working on my own, but thanks. I’ll stay until I’ve either found Smiley and his partner, or learned they’ve left the area.”

“Sounds like you’re the man for the job. Guess you’re hired.”

Jack pocketed an uneaten apple, dropped a twenty on the table and didn’t bother torturing the skittish server for change. A few steps had him out the door and heading to his parked pickup.

“Just don’t forget my Christmas bonus,” he said wryly, then hung up, his mind intent on catching his man.

Though that didn’t explain all of the energy jittering through him. He looked forward to seeing Ms. Dani Crawford again—a lot more than he was comfortable admitting.

CHAPTER THREE

A BOUNTY HUNTER.

Dani leaned her elbows on the main pasture fence and steadied her breath, slowly inhaling the familiar scents of horses, dung and oats as she completed her morning assessment of the herd. Her head refused to wrap itself around the story her employers had called her with minutes ago.

Her midnight cowboy was a bail agent who sought, of all people, their mild-mannered groundskeeper, Smiley, for jumping bail on a drug possession charge. Worse, he and another unknown suspect were persons of interest in a double homicide. Impossible. She’d never so much as seen Smiley pick up a gun. He was easygoing, friendly and the first to lend a hand. He and his girlfriend, Tanya, one of their cooks, always led the line dancing and square dance groups.

But you can’t judge a book by its cover... The light stung her gritty eyes as she assessed the ranch’s fifty quarter horses, her thoughts whirling. Everyone had believed her to be a hardworking Texas girl with a bit of a rebellious streak. More mischief than outright trouble. When her mother died ten years ago, around her twenty-first birthday, however, she’d become someone else: a person numb to the drop-kick realization her mom was gone.

Living from thrill to thrill had kept her grief at bay, especially after her beloved horse, Dolly, broke her leg during a competition four years later and had to be put down. Not only had she lost a companion she’d loved with all her heart, she’d lost her dream of winning enough competition prize money to pay for college.

Out of prospects and unwilling to go home a failure, what little common sense she’d had leached right out of her and she’d taken acting out to the next level. When her actions nearly landed her in jail shortly after Dolly’s accident, she’d come to her senses fast and started over.

Much as she’d labored all these years since to right the out-of-control tilt her life had taken, she never could relax. Deep down, she feared her checkered past wouldn’t stay in Oklahoma where she’d left it.

What if the bounty hunter—Jackson Cade—uncovered everything? Discovered the warrant for her arrest? Her stomach rolled. He’d be working here, undercover, as a horse wrangler. Law enforcement on her doorstep. A bounty hunter, and her a wanted woman.

Her head dropped. Bright sun splashed on the grazing herd, and the soft gold air moved up the back of her neck. The group looked healthy and in good shape as they meandered in the space, tails swishing away flies. Some touched noses. Others gazed out across the vast property, absently munching hay from pasture feeders.

If only she felt as peaceful as they did.

Her damp palms pressed on the soft-wood rail as the clear sky hovered above her like an accusation. Jackson Cade threatened everything. She’d love to chase him off, but couldn’t go against her employers’ wishes.

No. She’d just have to help him find Smiley to clear up this confusion and get him to leave as soon as possible—and not only because of her fear, but because of her unsettling interest in him.

One by one the horses lifted their heads to study a black pickup as it barreled through the front gate. Her pulse slammed. Jackson? While the kitchen, groundskeepers and housekeeping staff had arrived this morning and gotten straight to work on the twenty cabins dotting the five-hundred-acre property, most of the wranglers wouldn’t show until tomorrow.

The tall man emerged, wearing a fitted white T-shirt, an unbuttoned plaid shirt rolled up over his forearms and faded jeans, moving with the careless grace of a rider. His lightning-bolt scar flickered across his cheek. It added to his menace, but also made him look vulnerable somehow. An enigma. A puzzle she wanted no part of figuring out.

“Miss me?” he drawled when he reached her. He stood, broad shouldered and slim hipped, his back as straight as a pine tree. Thick-lashed, brown eyes peered down at her, the gleam in them hard to decipher. Other than his scar, his features were regular, his lean face strong and bronzed, but adding to this was a steadiness of expression, a restraint that, despite his sarcasm, seemed to hide sadness.

She turned and propped her boot heel on the fence, trying to rein in her galloping heart. “I missed your back. Wouldn’t mind seeing it again soon.”

“Well. That makes two of us.” He lifted his wide-brimmed hat to catch the small puff of wind that stirred the rising heat. His wavy brown hair lay flat against his skull. A bit of it flipped upward at the tops of his ears where his hat must end. “Till then, I guess I’m your new wrangler. Name’s Jack and you’re Dani.” His voice was as deep as she remembered, but sort of warm in the middle. She nodded. “You’ve spoken with Larry and Diane?”

“Yes.”

She moved around him, restless, and noticed that he turned with her. Had she aroused his suspicions already? It seemed unlikely, but his need to keep her in sight jangled her nerves. “They asked me to give you a tour of the place.”

He resettled his hat. “I’m fine on my own. Would appreciate a mount, though.”

She tried on the tempting idea of avoiding him for size, then rejected it. “I can’t go against their wishes. Let’s saddle up. Any preferences?”

She flicked her eyes sideways as he stepped closer and studied the herd. He had a strong brow, straight nose and square jaw—a rugged profile that seemed carved right out of the jagged-topped Rockies. And why was she staring at him?

“That white mare.”

Following his point, she spotted his choice. Regret settled in her gut as she eyed the large horse who stood alone on the far side of the pasture, grazing. “She’s a bucker, dangerous to approach and not pasture sound. When the Mays return with her replacement, she might have to be euthanized.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Doesn’t look skittish.”

“No. Milly used to be one of our best horses until some idiot rode her through a storm. Scared her. Now she won’t let anyone on her or near her.” Not even Dani, to her profound grief, though she’d tried and tried and tried.

She blamed herself for what’d happened to Milly. She’d allowed an inexperienced kid to take her out, trusting Milly’s experience and temperament. And it brought back every bit of guilt she still felt over Dolly’s injury and death. She loved horses with a passion, and when she failed them, it cut to the bone.

“I wouldn’t let anyone near again, either.” He rubbed the back of his neck. She tried meeting his eye but something about its steely sheen unsettled her. It was almost like he looked right through her. Inside her. “You pick, then.”

Guessing it was a rhetorical question, she asked, anyway. “How much riding experience do you have?”

“I was on a horse before I could walk.”

Of course he was. She kept her eye roll in check and pointed at a buff-colored gelding with a black forelock and mane. His head drooped over the side of the fence and he stared at the distant hills. “Pokey will do.”

“Pokey?” One thick eyebrow rose, a skeptical light in his eyes. “Hope I can handle him.”

“Guess we’ll see.” She felt a grin come on and caught it. Getting friendly with a bounty hunter was not on her bucket list. Not even close. “But we can’t ride them until we catch them.”

“Which is yours?” he asked when they returned from the barn, halters and leads in hand.

She unlatched the gate and slid inside, careful not to make any fast moves. “Storm. The gray mare with the white stockings.”

“She’s a beauty,” he murmured in her ear, and a jolt of awareness rocketed through her. Before reaching Pokey, he stopped near Milly. Her nostrils flared as she blew, backing up a couple of steps, her ears flattening.

Poor, sweet girl. She’d been born and raised on this ranch. Deserved a better fate than what awaited her. From her own experiences, Dani knew how just one incident could be enough to derail your entire life. She hadn’t stopped praying for divine intervention to get Milly back on track and save her, since Dani hadn’t been able to do it herself.

To her surprise, Jack extended a hand, an apple in his palm. Milly’s head rose and she eyed the fruit down the length of her muzzle. After a long minute, where Dani held her breath and Milly stood still, Jack dropped the treat on the ground and headed for his mount. Milly watched him leave before she edged closer, snatched up the fruit and retreated to the corner of the pasture she preferred.