High Country Hideout

CW and Jo always sat at the other side of the table, which forced Reggie to sit at the end next to Angus. He pulled out the chair and waited for her to take her seat before sitting.

The table overflowed with food. After each platter had been handed around, Reggie lifted a forkful of ham and paused. “So, Angus, I’m not convinced we really need a ranch hand, but CW assures me we do. I can offer room and board, but I can’t afford to pay a lot.”

“I don’t require a lot,” he said, poking a bite of roll into his mouth.

“Then why would you want to work here?”

“I enjoy working with animals and being outdoors.”

She studied him for a long moment. “You can stay.” Reggie held up a finger. “On a trial basis.”

“Fair enough.” He turned to Jo. “Mrs. Jo, the rolls are wonderful.”

Jo preened. “You look like you could do with some good old-fashioned home cooking.”

The man was muscular, but his face was somewhat hollow, as though he’d been through rough times. Reggie raised her glass and drank a long pull of water, studying Angus in her peripheral vision.

Jo continued, “Since you’re out here alone, I take it you’re not married.”

Water lodged in Reggie’s throat and backed up into her nostrils. She stopped herself short of spewing it across the table as heat burned its way into her cheeks. Trust Jo to get down to the personal questions first thing.

* * *

ANGUS FOUGHT THE SMILE that threatened to erupt at Reggie’s distress. The ranch owner turned an alarming shade of red and coughed several times.

He leaned back and thumped her on the back. “Are you okay? Don’t need a hug, now, do you?”

“No...no...” she gasped. “Wrong pipe.” Then she glared across the table at Jo. “Leave Angus alone, Jo. He doesn’t have to answer personal questions to work here.”

Jo laughed irreverently. “He does if he wants another one of those rolls.” She winked at him. “So, are you married?”

Angus liked the woman’s forthrightness and laughing smile. “No, I’m not.” And he probably never would be.

“That’s interesting.” Jo tilted her head. “A good-looking young man like you should already be settled with half a dozen children.”

His jaw tightened. “The opportunity never came up.”

“CW tells me you were in the army.”

Angus’s entire body tensed. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Were you deployed overseas?” Jo continued her interrogation.

“Four times.”

“Goodness. That would make it difficult to form a lasting relationship. Takes a special woman to marry a soldier and make it work.” She glanced across at Reggie. “A strong woman who can keep the fires burning on the home front. Reggie’s one of the most independent women I know. She can ride the range, round up cattle, muck stalls and still have time to read to Tad.”

“Leave me out of this conversation,” Reggie muttered and turned to Angus. “And watch her. She’s an uncontrollable matchmaker.”

“I am, and danged proud of it.” Jo set her fork on the table. “Angus, you want another one of those rolls?” She passed him the basket.

Angus selected one and studied Jo Reinhardt. The woman obviously loved Reggie and wanted the best for her. She probably thought the young widow needed a new husband.

Too bad she was barking up the wrong tree.

His gaze shifted to Reggie. Her soft sandy-blond hair was drying, the curls springing up around her shoulders.

A man would be lucky to have her as his wife. She wasn’t clingy or froufrou. Though she could ride and work animals like any other man, that was where the resemblance stopped. The way her sweater hugged her curves and her jeans caressed her hips, she was one hundred percent female.

“Got a lot to do tomorrow.” CW’s words pulled Angus back to the table.

The older man slathered his roll with butter. “Supposed to get down below freezing tonight. If the ground gets cold enough, that snow headed this way later this week will stick.” He glanced at Angus.

Reggie nodded. “We need to get the rest of the cattle down from the upper pastures tomorrow.”

Glad the conversation had shifted from him to the ranch, Angus took a bite of the smoked ham, enjoying the flavors.

“You up for riding so soon?” CW’s gaze met Angus’s, making him wonder if Hank had told him the extent of his injuries.

Angus swallowed. “Yes, sir.” He’d be damned if he showed a single ounce of weakness in front of Reggie. “It’s been a while since I saddled up, but I’m sure I can manage.”

CW continued to stare at Angus for a moment longer and then his gaze dropped to the buttered roll in his hand. “Riding a horse is a lot like riding a bicycle. Once you learn, it’s easy to remember.”

Angus hoped like hell CW was right. One thing he’d discovered in rehab was that, since his injury, he’d had to relearn everything to do with walking, running and riding a bicycle. Horseback riding would be an entirely different experience. He considered rising early to practice mounting without Reggie or CW standing around to witness his shame if it proved too difficult.

“Gonna be a bunch of stars out tonight,” Jo said. “The weatherman reported there’ll be a meteor shower today and tomorrow.” She glanced at Reggie. “You used to love watching the meteor showers, Reggie.”

“Really, Jo?” Reggie’s lips twisted. “Not in frigid temperatures. Now, if you don’t stop, you’ll run off our hired help.”

“What?” Jo held her hands up. “All I said is that there’s a meteor shower gonna light up the sky. Tonight might be your only chance to view it.”

Reggie finished her meal before everyone else and pushed back from the table. “If you will excuse me, I want to check on Jake’s leg before I call it a night.”

Angus pushed his chair back and started to stand. “Let me.”

Reggie shook her head. “I can get this myself. Please, don’t get up.”

He waited until she’d slipped out the back door before he stood. “Need help with the dishes, Mrs. Jo?”

“No, thank you, Angus.” Jo tilted her head toward the back door. “You go on out and help Ms. Reggie with that horse.”

“Leave the kids alone, Mamma,” CW said. “I know a boy who would love a couple of your chocolate-chip cookies.”

“Me!” Tad raised his hand. “I want some.”

The boy’s delight at the cookies made Angus smile. To be so young and carefree that chocolate-chip cookies could make you happy was a gift. He slipped into his jacket and left through the back door, careful to let it close softly behind him. He thought about letting Ranger out for a walk, but didn’t want to frighten Reggie again. He’d let him out later.

Reggie was nowhere to be seen, but a light from the barn glowed like a beacon, drawing Angus across the yard.

Jo had been right about the sky being clear and the stars shining bright. Used to the big skies of West Texas, he did feel a little closer to the heavens in the higher altitude of the Rockies. And the air seemed cleaner, not dusty and dry like Texas.

For a moment he stood still, inhaling the fresh mountain air, for the first time in a long time glad he was alive.

Though Reggie hadn’t asked for help, as the new ranch hand he felt obligated to check in with her and make certain she hadn’t run into issues with the horse. And, based on his true job description, he was supposed to be keeping an eye on the owner and her family.

He turned and headed for the barn.

A scream rent the air, the sound coming from the direction of the barn.

Angus kicked out his bad leg and ran as best he could to the structure looming in front of him. As he neared the door, a shadow moved to the east of the barn. At first Angus thought it might be Reggie, but it slipped out of sight and a horse whinnied nervously from inside the structure, the sound of hooves banging against wood drawing Angus toward the barn door.

Had one of the animals broken out of a stall? Or worse, had Jake spooked again while Reggie had been in his stall? She could be lying at his feet, being beaten to death by flailing hooves.

Angus ran in his lumbering gait for the door and flung it open to a darkened interior.

“Reggie?” he called out, his pulse pounding so loud in his ears he was afraid he might not hear her response.

Reaching inside the door, he felt for and tripped the light switch. Nothing happened. Earlier, he’d noticed a flashlight hanging in a charger on the wall by the door. He felt along the boards until his fingers gripped the handle of the flashlight and he yanked it from its cradle.

Feeling as if he was taking far too long to check things out, he fumbled until he located the switch and turned it on.

Light sliced through the darkness.

Jake nickered worriedly and pawed at the boards of his stall.

Angus crossed to him and touched a hand to his nose. “Shh, boy. Where’s Reggie?” He leaned over the gate and shined the light at the base of the horse’s hooves. Nothing moved. All that was there was fresh straw.

The horse pressed his nose into Angus’s hand.

“It’s okay, boy. I’ll find her.” Angus turned around and pointed the light toward the door he’d come through, and slowly shone the beam across the floor. Nothing moved in front of the stalls. The floor was clean except for loose hay and straw.

As the beam slid toward the back of the barn it encountered a dark form lying in the shadows near the feed buckets he’d located earlier.

His heart beating hard against his ribs, Angus neared the lump. A few steps closer and he realized it was Reggie. Facedown, blood pooling beneath her forehead.

“Reggie, darlin’.” He dropped to his good knee and braced his other leg out to the side.

She moaned and stirred.

“Reggie.” He touched her shoulder. “Tell me you’re all right.”

She pushed against the floor and rolled onto her back, raising her hand to cradle the back of her head. “Ted?”

“Not Ted. It’s Angus. What happened?”

“I’m not sure.” She closed her eyes. “Something hit me in the back of my head.”

Angus glanced around for a fallen object and found nothing. He recalled the shadow outside the barn and almost jumped up and chased after it. But with Reggie lying at his feet injured and possibly concussed, he couldn’t leave her. Not with the distinct possibility that whoever had attacked her might come back to finish the job.

Chapter Four

Reggie stared up at the man leaning over her, blinking into a blinding light. “Do you mind not shining that thing in my eyes?”

“Sorry, darlin’.” He placed the flashlight on the ground beside her and laid his hands on her leg. “Other than the back of your head, are you hurt anywhere else?” His fingers worked their way up her calf, knee and thigh, igniting a trail of electric tingles all the way.

Shocked at her body’s response, she pushed his hands away. “I was hit in the head, not on the limbs.”

“The fall could have caused more damage.” He ignored her protests and swept his hands up the other leg and moved to her arms.

She stopped him just as his knuckles skimmed the side of her breast. “I said I’m fine, except for the splitting headache and overzealous first-aid care.” Her blood hummed through her veins and places low in her belly came alive. Anxious to put distance between them, she sat up. “Really. I’m okay.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” He stood, collected the flashlight and extended a hand to her. When she hesitated, he shook his head. “It won’t hurt to let me help you a little. Unless you’re afraid. I promise, I don’t bite.”

“I’m not afraid.” Nor was she in a hurry to touch the man whose hands had so easily stirred her blood.

“Well, you should be.”

She frowned, the movement causing more pain to her already hurting forehead. “Why would someone purposely hit me?”

“Why would someone put a fake snake in your path?”

“I don’t know. This is all ridiculous and too much like a conspiracy theory.” She gingerly touched the lump rising on the back of her head. “Ouch.”

“Are you going to take my hand or not?” He held it steady, daring her to take it.

Reluctantly she accepted his help and Angus pulled her to her feet.

Immediately, her vision blurred and she swayed.

His arm came up around her and he handed her the flashlight. “Hold this.” Before she could protest, he shoved the light into her hands and scooped her up into his arms.

“Put me down!” She wiggled to free herself from his hold, but he refused to let go.

“You’ve had a head injury. Let me get to the house. We might need to call the doc.”

“I tell you, I’m fine and I can get myself to the house.” She clutched the light with one arm and held on around his neck with the other as he limped toward the house. “You can’t carry me around. You’re limping. Put me down.”

His lips thinned and his hands tightened around her. “I can, and will, carry you to the house.”

She could sense the unspoken words of even if it kills me. The tight set of his jaw and the determined look in his eyes made her still and let the man carry her, despite the lumbering gait and the slight hesitation when he reached the stairs.

One slow step at a time, he climbed the stairs, the lines deepening around his eyes and forehead. He was totally concentrated on getting her into the house.

“What’s wrong with your leg?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“Look, you’re my employee. If something should happen, I need to know what to expect.”

“Not your concern. It won’t affect my ability to do the work.”

“Everything and everyone on this ranch is my concern.” Damn, the man was stubborn. Almost as stubborn as she was. Reggie leaned down, twisted the knob on the back door and swung it open. “Especially when you insist on carrying me.”

Without responding, Angus strode through the kitchen and into the living room, where he deposited her on the couch. “There, I’m not carrying you anymore.”

Reggie opened her mouth to argue the point, but Tad entered the room, his eyes widening.

“Mamma?” He ran forward and stood in front of her. “You’re hurt.” He stared up at Angus. “Did you hurt my mamma?” His little fists clenched and he appeared to be ready to throw himself at the ranch hand.

“No, Tad. Angus didn’t hurt me. I...fell and hit my head in the barn. Angus was good enough to carry me all the way into the house.” She added the last part through gritted teeth, still unhappy about that particular fact.

The boy’s face brightened and he hugged Angus’s leg. “You are a cowboy.”

Angus’s face reddened. He quickly bent to loosen the boy’s hold and held his hands as he stared down into the child’s upturned face. “As the men in the house, we have to take care of the womenfolk. And right now, we need to wash the wound.”

“I know where the bandages are. Mamma keeps them in her bathroom for when I have an owie.” He ran from the room, his face excited.

Angus glanced down at Reggie. “I’ll be right back, too.”

“I told you, I can take care of myself.” She started to rise.

Angus pressed a hand to her shoulder. “And disappoint your son when he’s all set to take care of his mamma?” He shook his head. “Stay put.”

Reggie didn’t like taking orders from anyone, especially the stranger in her house. But the way he’d handled Tad and taken the opportunity to teach him to care for others made her sit back and accept the help.

“Fine.” She crossed her arms. “For Tad.”

Angus left the room and strode down the hallway to the bathroom. The sound of water running reached her ears, as did Angus’s deep voice and Tad’s childish one. Unable to hear their conversation, it was all she could do to remain on the couch. What was he saying?

Tad led the way into the living room, proudly carrying the box of bandages with cute little dinosaurs printed on them.

Reggie smiled. This was her little man. The spitting image of his father. Her heart swelled and she reached out to take his hand. “Thank you, sweetie.”

“Angus is gonna clean the booboo and I’m gonna put the bandage on.” He glanced up at Angus as if to confirm.

“That’s right.” Angus gave her son a serious nod. “It’s an important job.”

Angus leaned over Reggie and dabbed carefully at the cut on her forehead. Her senses picked up on everything about the man. The breadth of his chest...so close to her face. The bulging muscles of his arms in the blue chambray shirt...the trim width of his hips in the faded blue jeans. He smelled of leather and outdoors, the two scents she found most attractive on a man.

She closed her eyes to block out the cowboy, but she couldn’t stop breathing. Each breath she took only added to her confusion. Why was she reacting to this man so much? She didn’t even know him.

She had known Ted all her life. They’d practically grown up together in the same small town.

Angus had showed up out of nowhere. She knew nothing about him other than he was sensitive about his limp and didn’t want her asking questions. What did he have to hide?

A little hand touched hers. “Does it hurt much, Mamma?”

She opened her eyes and smiled at Tad. “No, sweetie. I just didn’t want to get anything in my eyes.”

“All cleaned up. It’s your turn, Tad. Remember to be careful not to get your fingers all over the white part.” Angus leaned over him. “Here, let me show you.” With his big hands, he helped the boy’s little fingers open the individually wrapped package, peel the paper strips from the sticky adhesive and hold it out.

Together, they placed the bandage over the cut on Reggie’s forehead. When the bandage was in place, she carefully felt the bruised lump.

“Well done.” Angus stuck out his hand to shake Tad’s.

Tad stood tall, his shoulders back, a serious expression on his young face. Then her son turned and hugged her. “Is it all better?”

“Yes, baby.” Reggie returned the hug, her chest swelling with pride and an appreciation for the ranch hand who could have just done it all himself. Instead, he’d chosen to treat the event as a learning opportunity for her son.

Okay, so the man wasn’t just an annoying addition to her ranch. He might come in handy. Tad could use more strong, male role models, since his father wasn’t there to teach him certain things. Such as how to treat a lady.

Having shouldered most of the burden typically considered man’s work, she hadn’t really had the opportunity to teach her young son how to behave toward women. And he’d need those lessons in life as much as he’d need to know how to be strong, work hard and be accountable.

Angus backed away. “If you’re sure you’re okay, I’m going to check things out around the barn.”

She nodded. “Be careful. I don’t want you, uh—” her gaze shot to Tad “—bumping your head like I did.”

He nodded and left the room.

As soon as she heard the sound of the back door closing, Reggie rose from the couch. “Come on, it’s time for your bath and bed.”

“Ah, Mamma. Can’t I stay up?”

“You have school tomorrow and we have another chapter to read in your book about the ranch dog.”

She held out her hand and Tad slipped his into hers. “When can I have a dog? Angus has one.”

“When you’re old enough to take care of one all by yourself.”

“I’m old enough. I took care of you,” he pointed out.

She ruffled his hair. “Yes, you did. I’ll think about it.”

He skipped along beside her. “Can I name the dog Ranger?”

“We haven’t got one yet. Besides, Angus’s dog is named Ranger. Don’t you think you should give a dog his very own name?”

The conversation continued as it usually did, with Tad asking questions and making observations that surprised her at his level of maturity for a five-year old.

Reggie herded Tad through his bath, allowing him to play for a while before bundling him in a warm towel and clean pajamas. After he brushed his teeth, he climbed into his little bed and waited for her to read to him. This was one thing she’d always insisted on, even after Ted’s passing. Some things had to remain consistent to keep Tad on track with growing up normal and well-adjusted.

She settled on the edge of his bed, opened the book to the chapter she’d stopped at the previous night and read.

* * *

ANGUS TOOK RANGER outside with him and spent time circling the barn, searching for some indication of who had been inside and hit Reggie in the head. If he hadn’t been sure before, he was certain now. Someone was targeting Reggie. She needed protection. Perhaps he wasn’t the one to provide it. Why had Hank insisted he was the man for the job?

As he shone the flashlight at the ground around the exterior of the barn, phantom pain burst like a firecracker, shooting up his leg and throughout his body. He stopped for a moment and clenched his jaw until the pain eased.

Pushing aside the residual pain, he concentrated on the ground, searching for footprints. The ground was hard-packed except near the rear of the barn, where he’d hosed out the wheelbarrow earlier. Footprints made inch-deep wells in the mud. He set off in the direction they were heading and found a couple more. They were smaller than his own, but then, he was a big guy.

The trail led over the top of a small hill and down to a gravel road on the other side. It was not much more than a dirt path. He followed it to where it connected with the road leading up to the ranch. At the junction, he could see fresh tire tracks in the loose dirt. They were narrow and knobby, like those of a four-wheeler, and the direction they were heading was back toward town. Near the tracks, almost hidden by a bush, he found a four-foot length of weathered two-by-four with a smear of blood on it. His gut knotted as he lifted the board out of the brush.

Following the road much farther wouldn’t gain him anything. The best he could hope for was to make a trip to Fool’s Fortune the next day and do some nosing around. He wished he had the ability to lift prints from the board. Perhaps whoever had hit Reggie was in some criminal database. Hank might have connections.

In the meantime he needed to get back to the house and stay close to the family he was there to protect, in case Reggie’s attacker decided to return in the middle of the night.

Once inside, he shed his jacket and hung it on a hook on the wall beside the kitchen door. Though his leg ached and he needed to elevate it, he couldn’t until he felt confident Reggie and her son were okay. He spent time checking door and window locks and shooting the dead bolts home. They might have felt comfortable leaving doors unlocked in the past, but times had changed.

Reassured all the locks were in place, Angus headed down the hallway to his bedroom. As he passed an open door, he heard Reggie’s voice speaking softly.

He paused, liking this gentle side of the woman who’d been tough as nails since he’d arrived. Curious, he leaned through the doorway.

Reggie sat on the side of a twin-size bed covered with a quilt decorated with pictures of cowboy hats, cowboy boots, lassos and spurs. Tad lay beneath it, his head resting against the pillow, his eyes half closed.

“‘Poke, the ranch dog, barked at the bull, until the bull backed away from the boy.’”

“Poke wasn’t afraid, was he?” Tad mumbled sleepily.

“No, he wasn’t. He protected his boy from the bull.”

“When I get my dog, I’ll name him Poke.” Tad yawned and rolled onto his side, tucking his hand beneath his chin. “Until I get my own dog, do you think Angus would let me pet Ranger?”

“You need to ask Angus. Ranger was an army dog. He might not be used to little kids.”

“I’ll ask Angus in the morning.” Tad yawned again and closed his eyes. “Will you tell him to tuck me in when he comes back in?”

“I read you a book, but you’d rather have Angus tuck you in?” Reggie leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’ll tell him. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too.” Tad’s voice faded as he nestled into the blanket.

Reggie pulled the quilt up beneath his chin and stared down at the boy a few moments longer, love shining from her eyes.