Ranger's Wild Woman Cowboys By The Dozen

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Ranger's Wild Woman Cowboys By The Dozen Page 10

by Tina Leonard


  Already miffed that he was acting so nonchalantly about a kiss that had set her on fire, she retorted, “I thought we agreed no marriage.”

  “Oh, we did. I’m only suggesting that maybe you should change your last name to HotKiss. Hannah HotKiss has a certain ring to it, don’t you think?”

  Her jaw dropped at his flippancy. She wanted to push him down a hill herself. He was teasing her—and it only served to sharpen her sexual attraction to him! His eyes gleamed, no longer hiding his thoughts, and she saw that he knew he’d turned her on with a vengeance.

  “I want to call you a bad word with a French pronunciation, but I’ll restrict myself to helping you find the proper road,” she said, reaching for the map.

  The sun was going down, and the truck was getting warm. Or she had gotten hot.

  He took the map from her and dangled it outside the window, before reaching into the console with his free hand.

  “What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously, her blood starting to thunder with a little nervousness, a bit of trepidation and a lot of wet, hot desire.

  “Lighting you a fire.” He took out a lighter and set fire to the map, which flamed up faster than a girl could pucker her lips. “It gets real cold around here at night.”

  ON THE RIVERBOAT, Cissy anxiously watched the road leading to the dock. “Maybe we should call them,” she said to Archer. “They should have been here by now. Shouldn’t they?”

  Archer sighed. “Could you let it go? They’re fine. Why aren’t you worried about Hawk? We dropped him off in a roadside forest near a small town with a name I can’t remember, so he could track something. Why can’t he be a normal male—get dropped off in a bar to track women?”

  “That’s your idea of normal?”

  Archer shook his head and went back to the issue they were really arguing about. “Ranger and Hannah would have called us if they were stuck. Maybe they stopped to look at landmarks.”

  Cissy’s eyebrows went up. “Landmarks? I don’t think so. Hannah was in a hurry to be on the river. Said she had some things she needed to think about. Or, not think about.”

  Archer crossed his legs and leaned into the rail. “Chiefly my brother, right?”

  “Girls never tell on their gal pals. Don’t ask me.”

  He laughed. “She digs my brother. I could tell.”

  “Digging is not an appropriate word for a woman’s feelings,” Cissy said primly.

  He laughed again.

  “Let’s call them.” She scanned the road again. “Jellyfish said we’re leaving at nightfall.”

  “I still can’t believe his name is Jellyfish. And Hannah nearly married him.”

  “There are reasons for everything,” Cissy told him sternly. “And not always those that the male pea-brain can comprehend.”

  Archer shook his head and squinted his eyes with concentration. “We’re in Mississippi. There are no jellyfish here. Explain that to this country boy, because where I come from, we call a man what he is. And if his name is Jellyfish, well, that indicates a problem.”

  Cissy giggled. “All your Texas tough talk, a-spade-is-a-spade stuff. His name is Jellyfish. That’s what it is. Get over it.”

  “Hawk. Jellyfish. I feel like I’m stuck in a cross between ‘Wild Kingdom’ and The Crocodile Hunter. Can’t they have normal names?” He scowled.

  Cissy lasered a stare on him. “Oh, yeah. Well, it’s so much better to be named after towns or states. Like, if your brother ever gets amnesia, when he comes to and they want to know his name he can just say, what state is this? And they’ll say Texas. And he can say, ‘Dude! That’s it! I’m Texas from Texas!”’ She turned her head to scan the road leading to the dock.

  “You think about him a lot, don’t you?”

  “Mind your own business.”

  “Hey. Did you talk to your customers like that? Because if you did, I’m amazed that any returned at all.”

  Cissy was feeling very snippy, and it had to do with Tex. And she didn’t want to be teased about it. Her half-hearted playfulness gave way to a defensive shield. “This from a man who’s so conversationally stunted he has to have an e-mail relationship with a gal in Australia. For all you know, Archer, it was a guy you were corresponding with for all those months.”

  His jaw dropped. “A guy!”

  “Yes, a guy,” she mimicked. “Now either you call and check on my friend, or I’m going to push you overboard and leave you without a paddle.”

  Archer was disgruntled, but he pulled the cell phone from his pocket. “I still think we shouldn’t bother them. Ranger knows what he’s doing.”

  She sighed. “I know. It’s a Jefferson thing, to know what he’s doing. Right. Dial.”

  “Here, you talk.”

  Cissy snatched the phone from him impatiently. Really! If he weren’t Tex’s brother, she’d be inclined to stomp his boot. They were all hardheaded men—and maybe unattractively so! “Hello? Hannah?”

  She listened for a moment to the garble on the other end. “What? The map’s on fire? Where are you? What do you mean, you don’t know? It was a straight shot from Hawk’s place! We can come get you—”

  Slowly, she pulled the cell phone away from her ear. Turning it off, she handed it back to Archer, who was staring at her quizzically. “They won’t be making the riverboat,” she said. “Ranger’s got them so lost they don’t know where they are.”

  Archer laughed out loud. “Good old Ranger,” he said.

  Cissy rolled her eyes and went to find Jellyfish.

  AT MALFUNCTION JUNCTION, Mason headed over to check on Sheriff Cannady. Although, truth be known, the sheriff ought to be checking on him. Mimi’s father was one of the fittest men he’d ever known—once, he’d seen him take down two beefy brawlers, one in each arm, knocking their heads before tying their feet together, heel-to-heel. The sheriff was a tough guy. Mimi might have a tender heart, but she had her daddy’s nerves of steel, that was for certain.

  No one answered his knock, so he opened the front door and peered in. “Sheriff?” he called. “It’s Mason.”

  There was no reply. And yet, he’d seen the sheriff’s truck out back in its customary spot. “Ah, sheriff,” he called from the base of the stairwell.

  He thought he heard a muted reply from upstairs. Frowning, he said, “I’m coming up, sheriff.”

  Slowly, he headed up, giving the man a chance to dress if necessary. It was going to be plain embarrassing if the man had company and Mason had butted in like a greenhorn. And yet, his promise to Mimi sent him on.

  “Sheriff?” he said in the hallway, inching forward past Mimi’s bedroom, which had been totally overhauled. Gone were the girlish flounces and stuffed animals. A man’s decor warmed the room, with rich paisleys and deep, elegant stripes. Jealousy fired at the base of Mason’s skull, but he strode on. “Sheriff?”

  He definitely heard a moan, and it didn’t sound like one of pleasure. Taking a deep breath, he swung the door open. Sheriff Cannady lay in bed, where he’d obviously been all day.

  “Sir?” Mason said, approaching the bed. “I’m sorry for…” He stared down at the man’s gray face, eyes sunken with pain. Mimi would never have left for Hawaii with her father in this shape. Something had happened in the night. Fear swept over him. The sheriff was ill, and he needed a hospital now.

  “Hang on,” he said, “I’m calling for help.”

  BY THE TIME the ambulance arrived, a group of Jefferson brothers were in the sheriff’s hallway, waiting anxiously. Bandera led the paramedics upstairs, and then they all stood around helplessly watching as the sheriff’s vitals were taken. Mason shifted his hands into his pockets. Matters weren’t good, he could tell that by reading the paramedics’ faces.

  He was going to have to call Mimi. His heart turned over inside him. She’d said she really needed this honeymoon with Brian. As much as that sent pain through him, he’d heard the urgency in her voice. He knew she would try hard to make her new marriage a happy one.

>   “I’m going with the sheriff,” Last called from the stairwell as the sheriff was bundled off.

  “I’ll follow,” Mason replied. “I guess I’d better call Mimi.”

  Tex turned to look at him. “What are you going to tell her?”

  “That her father’s gone to the hospital,” he said on a heavy sigh.

  “Maybe you should wait until you know more.”

  Mason nodded. “I’d rather put it off, that’s for certain.” He scratched his jawline. “You don’t suppose he’s in danger of…”

  “No. Dying isn’t in his plans. He’s just real sick,” Tex said. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “I don’t exactly know. Mimi asked me to keep an eye on him. And I laughed it off because the sheriff’s always been such a workhorse. I don’t think he’s ever had a day of sick leave in his life.”

  “I know what’s wrong with him,” Navarro said, meeting them on the stairwell as they went down after the ambulance driver had cleared away. “He’s got liver disease.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means he’s got to have a new liver. Or else.”

  Mason stopped in his tracks and looked at his brothers as they gathered around. “Or else what?”

  “He dies,” Navarro said simply. “That’s what the paramedics got from the information on the sheriff’s ID bracelet and a call in to the hospital.”

  They stared at each other as the bright morning light showed worried faces, eyes full of pain. Overhead, a bird called. Mason could only register the sound and not the type of bird. His mind simply would not process. “Die?” he repeated. “Sheriff Cannady?”

  And that would explain Mimi’s reluctance to take care of the Jefferson boys the way she always had. It was the reason for her quickfire marriage. It crystal-clear illuminated the urgency of her trip to Hawaii. If the sheriff was terminal—and from what Mason knew at this moment, the man’s odds were slim—Mimi would want her father to see his only child married. Happy.

  And most of all, she’d want her father to have a grandchild.

  Mimi was trying to get pregnant.

  “Mason?” one of his brothers said, but he couldn’t look up.

  So fast. It was all happening too fast. She’d just gotten married. And yet, she was desperate, he realized. Maybe for the first time, she had not confided in him. Their relationship had shifted, and he was no longer the brother-in-fun he’d been. She’d tried to tell him, with her voice and her absence and her tense expression. He hadn’t listened. He’d been too busy avoiding the marital noose with a girl who was, to his mind, his best friend. Everyone said they belonged together, but he hadn’t wanted to see her that way.

  He really could not see himself married. There was plenty for him to handle as it was. He had enough family, and Maverick’s shadow was ever in his mind.

  But now he wished he’d been just a little less protective of his heart. Because by protecting his, he’d forced Mimi to protect hers.

  Chapter Ten

  Ranger switched off the cell phone and looked at a very desirable Hannah. She was examining him like a hissing cat about to be loosed on his head.

  “So, are they sending help?” she asked. “Maybe a guide to lead us out of here? A helicopter? My boat leaves tonight, you know.”

  “No, no help,” he replied, trying to sound cheerful. “I vote we sleep on it.”

  She blew a raspberry.

  “Everything will look better in the morning,” he said, patting the bench seat. “And sleep is beneficial.”

  “Sleep together, no doubt.”

  “Of course, together. You said you wanted eight minutes.” He gave her his best he-man grin, the one that melted all the women without fail. “I’m offering eight hours.”

  “It’s not going to happen. You loused up your chance big-time. You know, it’s no wonder you Jefferson boys have to break something to win women. By the time you get through messing the whole thing up, you have to do something drastic.”

  Her very tone told him she was not fooling around. Maybe he’d come on too strong with the caveman approach.

  “You knew how much it meant to me to get on that boat, and you set fire to the map,” she accused. “And you didn’t ask Archer for directions out of here. I don’t think you’re trying.”

  “I don’t know where we are, exactly. So I couldn’t ask for help out of here. Plus, I didn’t want to mention this before, but…we’ve got a flat.”

  “A flat!”

  “And we may be a trifle low on gas. But those are minor issues,” he assured her. “The big issue is simply that…we’re lost.” He hated admitting that, since he’d only planned to detour, an idea that had supremely backfired on him. “It will all work out, I promise. I’ll get you to that boat and to your ex. Or almost-ex. Whatever he is,” he said on a deep sigh.

  “You’re just saying that so I’ll succumb, and it’s not going to work. I mean, you nearly had me. But then you set the map on fire and folded papers burning brightly do not romance make.” She crossed her arms and stared at him.

  “No, I promise. I’m very good at recovery missions.”

  She snorted. “You rolled down a hill nude after impaling yourself on a poisonous plant. The only reason you recovered from that was because of Hawk.”

  He felt a tiny spark of jealousy, then forced it away. “Are we having our first fight?”

  “Try multiplying that by ten. Because you and I both know I won’t make it to the riverboat before it leaves. That’s my employment, Ranger.”

  His lips compressed. What could he say? He’d had a pigheaded idea. “Sure are a lot of stars out to waste on bickering.”

  “You mean, gee, it’s a great night, and we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere with a flat, no spare, no compass and not enough gas to waste by driving aimlessly around on our rim, so we might as well play hide-the-salami.” She gave him a stern eyeing. “Do I translate your machismo correctly?”

  Whew-oo! This was a hot one! “Remind me of your saucy side if I ever ask you to marry me again. I may have missed that before.”

  “I don’t want to get married. And I sure don’t want to be with you, cowboy. Right at this moment, I’m so mad that I’m thinking perhaps I should have stuck with Jellyfish.”

  “What do they have to do with anything?” he demanded, annoyed at her illogical conversational turn—and the fact that she was right about everything she was saying.

  “My ex. My friend, Jellyfish.”

  He stared at her, to see if she was telling the truth. Her eyes were clear and focused. He started laughing. He laughed until he felt better. Wiping his eyes, he said, “Wait till I tell my brothers that I’ve been jealous of a man named Jellyfish!” And he threw back his head, roaring with more laughter.

  Hannah flounced down in the seat and gazed out the window until he’d finished. “I hope you didn’t rupture anything.”

  “Actually, I feel better.” But now he didn’t, because Hannah looked so dismayed. Damn, but he hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. It’s just that he had been jealous, and clearly, there was no need. Jellyfish! No cowboy would ever have a name like that! He imagined an undersized, whitish, forty-year-old who was too sickly to do much more than steer a riverboat all day. Pursing his lips, he realized he had all the odds stacked in his favor, and he’d be the better man if he was big about his non-rival.

  “I’m sorry, Hannah,” he said. “I shouldn’t have laughed at your friend. And I shouldn’t have picked on you. I’m feeling frustrated and embarrassed.”

  Her lips separated as she turned to look at him. “Well, cowboy, color me shocked. An apology?”

  “Yes. And I also shouldn’t have set the map on fire. I got carried away trying to…to get you carried away.”

  She looked at him speculatively. “You’re kind of cute when you’re not acting like an ass.”

  “Is that the rude word with a French pronunciation you wanted to call me?”

  “Sort of. Ah-shay,”
she enunciated, so he could get her inflection. “Ah-shay.”

  “Huh?” He looked at her quizzically.

  “The business orifice of the ass,” she said with a comforting nod and a smile.

  “Oh. I get it.” He really didn’t, but he wasn’t going to let on. “Wouldn’t that be ah-shole?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She rolled her eyes for his benefit, and then brightened. “So. You were jealous?” she asked, her eyes big and curious.

  He started to fib, and then realized he’d already admitted it and was going to have to derail his ah-shay tendencies. “Still am.”

  “And your idea of romance was to start a little fire?”

  “I lack resources in the middle of nowhere. And I heard women are seduced by fires.”

  “In a fireplace, you dip. I’m realizing that you may not be very good at this, for all your big talk,” she told him. “If Hawk hadn’t had all the necessary romantic supplies on hand, you probably wouldn’t have known what to do.”

  “I found a brochure in the kitchen drawer that had tips for romance,” he admitted. “That hideaway of Hawk’s is a honeymooner’s retreat he rents out.”

  “No way!”

  “It’s true.”

  She shook her head in amazement. “I can’t believe you came clean with that admission.”

  “I’m trying to start this relationship out with honesty. I’m sort of a believer in that.”

  “Okay. You’re not the smoothest man I’ve ever known. How’s that for honesty?”

  “Pretty good,” he admitted grudgingly. “I’m used to women who do all the work for me. Lord only knows you don’t help me out much.”

  “Pitiful.”

  He slipped her a sideways look. “Is it working?”

  “Absolutely not. Now, if you had thought of roasting some vegetables on the map fire, I might have been impressed. I’m starving.”

  “That I can solve,” he said, instantly cheered. Hopping out of the truck, he pulled some things out of a chest in the back. Getting back in, he handed her beef jerky and Twizzlers, then put cans of Big Red in the cup holders. “I travel prepared.”

 

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