Читать книгу A Cowboy To Keep - Karen Rock - Страница 12

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.

Phew.

That could have gone very badly. Horribly, considering the thrashing she’d once seen Milly give an overconfident groundskeeper who’d ignored the signs of her agitation until he found himself on the wrong side of her hooves.

What inspired Jack’s daring, unexpected act of kindness?

She puzzled over it while they finished tacking their horses, mounted, then headed out of the corral.

“This is the main house where our guests eat. There’s also a rec room and the second floor has rooms, too.” They passed a large, two-story log-cabin-style building with a wraparound deck that expanded on the side to a thirty-by-fifty-foot space. “We hold our barbecues, line dancing and bingo nights out here.”

A riding lawn mower, driven by a red-faced man, hummed by on the field separating the main lodge from the pasture. It kicked up the smell of fresh-cut grass and gasoline with each passing sweep. Pokey jerked his head and stepped sideways. Whatever Jack’s reply might have been evaporated as he worked to control the spirited animal.

At last the machine droned farther downfield. “Pokey, huh?” His narrowed gaze flicked her way.

“Not having trouble with him, are you?” Innocence oozed from every syllable.

“No. Enjoying the ride, thanks,” he insisted through gritted teeth, his words sounding a bit winded as he settled the horse.

“We aim to please.”

“So...Pokey...”

“It suits him, don’t you think?”

A quick laugh escaped Jack, a low, husky sound that set off a fluttery feeling in her stomach. “He’s a little hot, but nothing I can’t handle.” His knowing look got her flustered.

With the horses in hand, they continued past the hay barn, Pokey and Storm brushing noses. She lifted a hand to one of the grounds crew, Todd. His eyes went wide when they landed on Jack. Openmouthed, he returned her wave and wiped his wet brow with a rag before he went back to planting bright petunias around their flagpole.

“How many staff members work here?” Jack asked, as the horses stepped slowly on the packed dirt roadway.

“I’ve got seven wranglers, and they stay there, at the old railroad station—” she pointed at a converted, single-story structure “—with the kitchen crew, which is another three.”

“That doesn’t include Tanya, right?” He shot her a sharp, assessing look and pulled in a fidgeting Pokey. The belt buckle tattoo she’d spied earlier caught her eye.

“Right.” Her throat dried as she imagined what he thought—or conjectured, given Tanya’s relationship with Smiley. “She pays rent to stay in her own cabin. Over that hill.”

He turned his head and squinted at the distant building on the edge of the Pike National Forest.

“A couple of the groundskeepers lodge with the wranglers, as well, but a couple commute,” she hurried on, not wanting him to dwell on kindhearted Tanya, her best friend on the ranch. “As for the cleaning staff, they mostly live off site except Nan, who’s been with the Mays forever as a kitchen and housekeeping supervisor. I believe she’s mostly retired, though don’t tell her that. If you’re lucky, she’ll make her green chili stew while you’re here.”

“Till I catch Smiley.”

“He’s not guilty.” Her hand tightened on the reins when Jack didn’t respond. “He’s not that type.” A defensive note entered her voice.

It irked her when people got labeled for something they didn’t do. The sooner he found Smiley and cleared up this mess, the better. She needed Jack off this property ASAP.

“So these are all guest cabins?” Jack asked, smoothly changing the subject. The horses’ hooves splashed through a puddle left over from an early morning rainstorm. A woman with a mop and bucket emerged from a large stone structure. Behind her rose Mount Logan, its pine-covered incline cut through with a brown switchback trail.

“Some. They’re scattered on the property. That one’s Stonehenge. It’s our biggest. The one farther down with the balcony is the Homestead. We can have up to fifty guests a week when we’re full, and most of the season’s booked solid.”

Pride filled her, temporarily washing away her angst over Jack and the very real danger he represented. As the newly promoted stable manager, she’d worked hard over the winter to ensure their usual bookings returned and to attract new customers with her updated website.

This season was supposed to be perfect—a corner turned from her troubled past—and then the bounty hunter appeared. “You’ll stay with the wranglers.”

“I’ll find my own spot.”

At her surprised intake of breath, Storm’s ears flicked backward and her gait picked up as they entered the orientation trail used on day one of the guests’ arrival. “And where’s that?”

“Don’t know yet. I’ll be on the lookout.”

“All my wranglers bunk down together.”

He tugged at his shirt collar, creases appearing in the corners of his eyes. The strengthening sun beat down from the vast arc of blue overhead and a trickle of wet pooled at the base of her neck. “I’m not part of your crew.”

“You are while you’re undercover. Guess that makes me your boss.” She enjoyed the extra white that appeared around his dark eyes a little too much. “Do you mind having a lady in charge?”

“Got a problem with anyone telling me what to do. Look, boss, we need to get one thing straight. I only take orders from one person—myself.” He held the reins loosely in his left hand, his body swaying along with Pokey, his ease in the saddle evident.

She opened her mouth to mention he’d have to hide his tattoo as part of the dress code but decided to put off that argument for another day. Hopefully he’d locate Smiley quickly and leave before their first guests arrived. She’d do everything she could to facilitate those events, though strangely, another part of her felt let down at the thought.

Her mama had always said she attracted trouble like a fiddler attracted square dancing. And her mother had never been wrong. A long sigh escaped her.

There was the time she’d lost a school year’s worth of playground privileges for taking Frankie Joe’s dare to walk on top of the monkey bars. Another was when the church youth group leader had personally brought her home after Dani brawled with an older boy who’d called her “chicken legs” the first time her mother had gotten her to wear a dress.

She’d been a ponytail-wearing, makeup-avoiding, bruise-and-scrape-covered, bone-breaking horse fanatic who’d surprised everyone by cleaning up good once in a blue moon...and those only happened every other year.

How her mama had despaired of her. If only she could see Dani now. She still wore her hair back and didn’t so much as own a tube of mascara, but she’d walked straight since her huge mistake years ago. Would this brush with the law yank her back to that time? Undo all of her hard work to steady her life?

They rode along the sloping path, following a trail that came up the back of a bluff, through a clump of aspens with white trunks and green fluttering leaves, and led across a level patch of lush grass and wildflowers to the rocky edge.

She dismounted. Storm, used to being petted, rubbed her sleek, silver head against Dani’s arm then dropped her head to graze. “If you’re not leading groups out on horseback, taking them down the Arkansas rapids, fly fishing, zip-lining—”

“Zip-lining?” he interrupted, his tone incredulous, as he eased off Pokey and joined her at the ledge.

“Oh, you’ll love it.” Her voice rose as she warmed to the thought of the Goliath dangling from a line and speeding over treetops. “Nothing but you, a harness and pine trees. We have the longest and fastest zip lines in Colorado. Six in total, from 850 to 1,900 feet. Right out there.” She pointed to the high peaks rising across the valley that comprised this section of the Continental Divide.

He stared at the steep inclines then back down to the flat, muddy water of the South Platt River below. “Thanks for the invite. I’ll pass.”

“If you don’t fit in with the rest, they’ll question it. You don’t want to alert anyone, do you?”

A hawk wheeled overhead in lazy circles. “I don’t think there’s much chance of me fitting in, is there?”

“Why not?” she insisted. When she turned to look at him, he was disturbingly close, her senses alive to the brush of his shoulder against hers.

He gazed out at the valley. “You know what I look like.”

It wasn’t a question—just a statement of fact with a hint of resignation at the edges. It made her soften toward him.

“Lots of people have, uh, scars,” she floundered, trying to find a polite way to describe the deep ridge that looked bad enough to have gone bone deep. “It adds character. Makes you interesting. The guests will want to know about you.”

A humorless laugh escaped him. “A character? Interesting? Well. That’s something. Consider me your newest attraction.” He grabbed Pokey’s reins and mounted in a move so agile it aroused her deep, feminine appreciation. There was something about a man who rode well.

She watched as he and Pokey disappeared around a bend.

Her next attraction indeed...