Читать книгу High Country Hideout - Elle James - Страница 11

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.

Angus backed away from the doorway as quietly as he could and walked toward the kitchen, feeling as though he’d violated a private moment between Reggie and her son. But he wasn’t sorry he had.

The image of the tough ranch owner tucking her kid in like any loving mother would was seared into Angus’s mind. The woman had enough on her plate that she didn’t need to be plagued by some idiot trying to hurt her, or worse, kill her.

Anger boiled beneath the surface as Angus hovered in the kitchen long enough that Reggie wouldn’t suspect he’d been spying on her.

When he’d waited what he thought was enough time, he walked out of the kitchen and right into Reggie. His arms came up around her automatically to steady them both.

She squealed and braced her hands on his chest.

Angus chuckled. “This is becoming a habit.” Though neither one of them was at risk for falling, he was reluctant to let go of her. Her warm, soft body pressed against his was too tempting. She smelled like honeysuckle, bringing back memories of his happy childhood on a ranch in Texas.

“Anyone ever tell you that your hair is the color of hay?” he said before he could stop himself.

“Most women might count that as an insult,” she said, her voice a little breathless, probably from having been surprised by him.

“I think the color of hay is beautiful and that it represents stability and a plentiful harvest.”

Reggie smiled. “My thoughts exactly. So I’ll take your comment as a compliment.”

“As you should.”

Her back stiffened. “I believe I can stand on my own.”

“I know,” he said, staring into the prettiest blue eyes he could remember looking into. He wanted to tell her that, too, but he figured, following his last compliment, it might be too much, coming from a ranch hand. God, she smelled like home.

“You can let go of me now.”

He shook his head. “Sorry, darlin’.” Before he could think past the consequences, he cupped the back of her head and leaned in, his lips hovering over hers. “For some reason, I can’t seem to.” He wanted to kiss her, but more than that, he wanted her to want to kiss him. Instead of taking her lips, he left it up to her. His breath caught and held, waiting for her response.

For a moment she stiffened, her eyes widening. Her gaze shifted from his eyes to his lips. Then she melted against him and stood on her toes to close the distance, pressing her lips to his.

Once she did, there was no going back for Angus. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue in to claim hers in a long sensuous glide. She tasted of minty toothpaste, clean, fresh and sexy as hell.

Her fingers curled into his shirt and dragged him closer.

Angus’s hands slipped low on her back, holding her against the hard ridge of his arousal. At that moment he wanted this woman more than he’d wanted anything in his life. He slipped his hands down over her bottom and started to lift her—and a lightning bolt of pain ripped up his leg. He broke the kiss, sucking in a sharp breath and clenching his jaw to keep from yelling out.

“What’s wrong?” Reggie’s hand rested on his chest, her gaze on his face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” He pushed her to arm’s length. “I just...can’t...” He dropped his hands to his sides and backed away, limping more noticeably. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Her kiss-swollen lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m just as at fault, but I can assure you, it won’t happen again.” She turned to walk away.

Angus doubled over. He hadn’t felt an attack this strong in weeks and he struggled to beat it back. Hiding his pain was a losing proposition, but Angus bit down hard, refusing to show weakness.

Reggie stopped and turned back.

Angus straightened immediately, his stomach tightening.

Reggie stared at him for a minute, her eyes narrowing. Finally she sighed, “Tad wanted you to tuck him in. Don’t feel like you have to. He’s probably already asleep anyway.” With those parting words, she left him standing in the kitchen, alone with nothing but his pain as a reminder of all he’d lost.