Watching him head off to gather the men, Morgan knew Chet had his back. That was more than he could say about his own family. Although maybe his brothers’ affection for Jolie could come in handy. She might not want to tell him about the fainting episode, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t tell Rowdy or Tucker. Regardless, Morgan was determined to find out what was going on, whether Jolie wanted him to or not.
Chapter Five
The familiar scent of dirt and cattle filled the air as Jolie tried hard not to watch Morgan. It was an almost-impossible feat—the man had gotten only better-looking in the past six years. His black hair curled out from under his hat, just whispering against his blue button-down. The color made his eyes look darker than ever. And he was in his element as he strode back and forth inside the arena with Rowdy and the other cowboys getting everything set up for the mugging.
“I got trampled by a cow one time. That’s why I’m afraid to go out there,” Sammy was saying to Jolie. He’d been shadowing her since she’d arrived at the arena. Something about the kid spoke to her, and she wondered why he’d gravitated toward her. She couldn’t help thinking that it was the fear eating him up that had drawn him to her. Maybe on a subconscious level he recognized a kindred spirit of sorts.
Because she had fear eating her up, too.
And it irritated the dickens out of her. So much so that despite almost no sleep, she’d dragged herself out of bed and made it to church on just one cup of coffee. Her night had been awful, to say the least—just plain terrible.
It had started with thoughts of Morgan—specifically, the feel of his arms around her and the beat of his heart in her ear. Those sensations kept her awake half the night. When she’d finally fallen asleep, the nightmares arrived. Why, oh, why had she thought coming home would help ease them?
They hadn’t eased one iota.
Instead, they’d come as hard as ever, if not more so. Always the same, she was trapped in a raging vortex, upside down and fighting to make it to the surface. Always ensnared and struggling for her life.
Somewhere in the wee hours of the morning she’d given up trying to sleep and lay covered in sweat, tangled in sheets and worn-out. In the month since the accident, this had become the norm. Usually she turned to her Bible, searching for comfort and peace. Even though peace had been elusive, she knew God and only God had brought her up out of that watery grave.
A person would think that if she knew God had yanked her out of that murky water, there would be no reason to be full of fear from her toes to her roots—but she was. And she didn’t know what to do about it.
“You’re scared?” According to Morgan, Sammy was prone to exaggerations so she wasn’t sure what to make of his remark about being trampled, but she certainly recognized fear when she saw it. And it was like a flashing red beacon in his eyes.
He nodded. “Scared bad.”
“That’s totally understandable. Did the cow hurt you very badly?”
His gaze slid left, then back toward the four-foot-tall steers. “Broke my leg. My dad, he took real good care of me, though. And my mom.” He paused, gulping. “She cried, it scared her so bad.” He sighed wistfully. “They loved me so much they hated to see it happen.”
Heart slam!—Jolie was suddenly desperately grateful for her parents’ love and affection. She wanted to hug the child close—and at the same time do bodily harm to his parents for giving him up.
“I’m sure they did.” Jolie wondered if he even realized he’d said “loved” in the past tense. “You remember that anytime you need to talk about them, or anything that scares you, you can come to me. If you want to,” she added.
A half smile appeared that was one day going to make female hearts stop.
What a cute kid. And what a tough road he’d traveled. As had most of these boys.
A steer broke from the pack at the end of the arena and ran full tilt down the inside of the fence right in front of them.
Sammy’s head swung fast as he followed the black blur. Then immediately he turned back to her. “Are you really going to get out there?” he asked, his brows bunched in concern.
Jolie bit back a laugh. After all she’d faced in her kayak, a few half-pint cows didn’t scare her. Not that she’d dare tell Sammy that.
“You bet I’m getting out there!” she exclaimed. “It’s fun. If you learn how to do it right, even small people can flip a steer.” He didn’t look convinced at all. “You can do it, Sammy. It’s all in the technique.”
“We’re going in two groups,” Morgan called. Joseph clamored over the rail and jumped from the top rung to the ground. Instantly five more boys bailed over the rails and sauntered to join Joseph.
Jolie sure hoped she still had it—she hadn’t run around an arena after a steer in years. It hit her that if she hoped to get Sammy to participate at all today, she needed to go in the first group and lead by example. She climbed the fence and dropped to the ground on the other side.
“No!” Sammy yelped, grabbing hold of her shirt sleeve through the railing as if he feared he would never see her again. “Please don’t go,” he implored her.
“It’s going to be all right, Sammy. I promise. You’ll see, sugar,” she urged.
Adrenaline was flowing through her, a feeling she relished. She gave Sammy’s hand one last reassuring pat, then pulled away. She had never let fear hold her back—until the accident. But today, there was nothing inside the arena that remotely frightened her.
Matter of fact, she felt more alive than she had in a long time. Pure fun was what she called this.
It had been too long.
With big, goofy grins, the boys were whooping and waving her over. She jogged their way, smiling.
“Count me in on this one,” she called to Morgan. She rubbed her hands together, joining the boys behind the line that had been drawn in the dirt. Mentally she went over the names of the boys in the group—Joseph, Wes, Tony, Caleb and Micah, who was sixteen with rusty-brown hair, a lean face and eyes the color of well-washed jeans. They were all grinning from ear to ear as they looked at her.
Jolie clapped Caleb, the youngest, on the shoulder. “Hey, aren’t you Mr. Braveheart,” she teased, and his grin widened to touch his ears.
She was just starting to enjoy herself when she looked at Morgan. The man’s scowl told her he wasn’t happy with her at all.
So what else is new?
“You sure you want to do this? It’s been a long time, and yester—”
Jolie cut him off. “I’m fine, and I’m sure. Let’s get this muggin’ goin’!”
“If she can ride those rapids, I bet she can mug a puny five-hundred-pound steer.” Joseph grinned and spat a sunflower seed husk to the ground.
“Why, thank ya, Joseph,” she quipped, gloating a little at Morgan.
He frowned at the teen. “Maybe you need to tend to your own business.”
Joseph chuckled. “You sure been ornery the last few days, Morg.”
“Yeah,” Wes agreed. “Real grumpy.”
Morgan’s scowl deepened. “May I have a word with you?” he asked through bared teeth. Wrapping his hand around her biceps, he started walking her away from the group.
Once they were a good distance away from everyone he let go of her arm, leaving her skin tingling from his touch. She felt a rush of disappointment but wasn’t sure if she was disappointed that she’d felt a tingle or that he’d removed his hand.
“I can do this if I want to, Morgan McDermott.” Here was one of the problems that had prompted her to pack her bags six years ago—the man was pushy.
“You passed out yesterday. That’s not like you. I’ve thought about it all night and I’ve decided that there must be something wrong. You going to tell me what that something is?”
I’ve thought about it all night. He’d had her on his mind
—the knowledge sent a shaft of joy straight to her heart. She continued to glare at him, though, because she’d never liked his bossing her around. It was all coming back to her now. Once he’d put his ring on her finger, he’d started trying to dictate her life—tried to wrap her up and keep her safe. It was out of concern, but she was not a china doll and refused to be treated as one.
Even if she felt broken right now.
“I did not pass out. I got a little faint is all.”
“You would have hit the floor like a rock if I hadn’t caught you.”
“Maybe, but—”
“Jolie, I’m not kidding. You come back here after all this time, and you aren’t kayaking. You nearly died—yeah, I know you didn’t elaborate on that, but Nana is my grandmother, so I’m informed. I know what a close call you had. I’m not blind and I’m not stupid, Jolie. There is something wrong with you and I want to know what it is.”
The man was impossible. “It’s none of your business.”
He loomed over her, his scent filling her senses. “I’m responsible for everyone out here and if you have some kind of condition, I need to know about it. You were hired on to this ranch without my say-so, but guess what? That makes you my business, especially if whatever’s going on affects your job.”
So his interest in what was wrong with her was because she worked for him. There was nothing personal about it. Nevertheless, she caved under that blue-eyed stare, blurting out, “I’m having trouble sleeping ever since the accident. I’m having a few nightmares.”
“Nightmares,” he repeated, clearly startled. Then his expression softened. “I guess that’s understandable after what you went through.”
Jolie suddenly wanted to tell him more, but was aware that all eyes were watching them as they stood practically nose to nose. This wasn’t the time or the place. And now that she thought about it, she didn’t want sympathy from him.
“I’m dealing with it,” she huffed, “which is why I’m taking some time off. Now, can we get this done?” she asked.
“Fine, do it,” he snapped. “Only, and I mean only, if you’re sure you won’t be passing out and getting trampled.”
“Such a sweet thought,” she replied, syrup dripping from her words as she crossed her heart. “I promise.”
She spun and jogged back to the boys. Energy surged through her—for now, she was alive and unafraid, and Morgan McDermott couldn’t tell her what she could or couldn’t do.
She gave high fives to the boys.
“Let’s do this,” she said before turning her attention to the midsize steers milling about in a huddle. She took them all in and zeroed in on her pick, a hefty black angus that had some challenge in his eyes. Sure, there were a few mild-mannered ones milling around, but she’d never taken the easy route.
“Just so y’all know, I’m in it to win it,” she warned.
“Win it,” Wes said in comical disbelief.
“Win it,” she clarified. Their disbelief was all the challenge she needed. She’d always liked having something to prove.
“Here you go, hotshot. Be my guest,” Morgan said, issuing his own challenge as he handed her a rope.
Jolie stuffed the tie rope in her back waistband and gave the guys a grin just to egg them on because they were looking at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“All right,” Morgan commanded. “This is our version of a muggin’ competition. All of you will go at the same time and first man—person—to get the steer by the horns and to the ground is the winner of this group. Once we have the winner established of this go-around, then one of you will tie its legs and be timed on that. We’ll do the same with the second group, and the overall winner will be determined by time. Remember, we’ll have a team roping in a couple of weeks and you’d better be practiced up on your roping and tying by then, because I’m bringing out the real steers.” This information won huge grins and a ton of chatter.
“Everyone behind the line and we’ll get this show started. Get set,” Morgan called, “go!”
It was on. Dirt flying, steers running, cheers threatening to lift the roof off the building, Jolie and the five boys ran out into the arena. Jolie focused on her target—which was heading for Denver, by the looks of it. Anticipating his movements, she raced after him. When he spun, she dived for him—and landed face-first in the red dirt.
Sputtering the bitter, gritty dirt, she was on her feet in a flash. Hands out to either side, she waved the steer back when it would have broken left. Scrambling for traction, she broke right, then lunged again...and grabbed him.
“Gotcha, big boy,” she grunted, locking her elbows around the steer’s blunt-tipped horns. Instinct from years on the ranch kicked in. One arm locked around the horns, she grabbed the animal’s jaw, dug her boots into the dirt and twisted the steer’s head as she leaned back on her heels. Once she felt his weight shift she hung on, pulled harder and let herself fall back into the dirt. The steer came with her, landing on his side. Only then did the riotous yells and cheers begin to register.
Holding the angry steer’s horns to her chest, she waited for someone to come tie its legs. A shadow blocked out the overhead light and Morgan grinned down at her.
“I reckon you haven’t lost your touch after all,” he drawled.
Looking up at him like this felt so familiar, like when they were teens and this was a normal part of their weekly routine. The steer squirmed, reminding her that she still had it by the horns. Thankfully Joseph raced up and had three legs tied in seconds.
Sliding from beneath its head, Jolie stood and dusted off her backside. “If you ask me,” she said, her poker face in place as Rowdy joined the group, “that was kind of slow.”
That got a grin from Morgan. She grinned right back at him, and for a moment the tension between them eased and she felt her heart pick up the pace.
Rowdy jogged up and nudged her arm. “Not too shabby, pest. For a girl.”
“A girl who had her moments of glory beating you both a time or two.”
“I’m impressed,” Wes said, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm.
“You did it!” Sammy exclaimed, elbowing his way through the group and grabbing her around the waist, hugging her tight.
“Hey, I told you I would.” She returned his hug. A warm feeling expanded in her chest like a hot air balloon, lifting her spirits. Beaming with gladness, Jolie met Morgan’s hazardous indigo gaze...and whoosh, just like that, all coherent thought evaporated right there under the big lights.
* * *
Morgan was rocked by the attraction buzzing through him as he watched Jolie. It was as if they’d been swept back to the past and the world was right again.
He was also more than a little startled by the enthusiastic way Sammy had just latched on to her. His thoughts were stumbling all over themselves as her dancing green eyes locked onto his.
Clearing his throat, he tried to clear his brain and turned his gaze to the kid.
Sammy connected with Jolie on a level that he hadn’t come close to doing with anyone else. Morgan could practically see the kid’s heart on his sleeve. And it immediately reminded Morgan that—no matter what he’d been feeling toward Jolie just minutes before—her being here was a mistake.
Oh yeah, a big mistake—of gargantuan proportions.
The kid needed stability—he did not need to fall for Jolie, then have her exit his life in a few short months. But Morgan’s hands were tied. Jolie was the kind of person who drew people to her—no doubt about it. What could he do now? It was clear that it was already too late—Sammy was attached with a capital A.
“Morgan, did you see Jolie?” Sammy yanked on his sleeve to get his attention, too young to realize that Morgan hadn’t taken his eyes off Jolie for even a second while she was out there.
“I saw. She
was born to be a cowgirl.” His observation came out before he could stop it. Born to be a cowgirl riding a horse—and ended up riding river rapids. The thrill was clearly much more exciting out there taming white water in places he couldn’t pronounce much less compete with.
“I learned everything I know from Morgan, so do as he tells you and you can’t go wrong.”
Her glowing eyes settled on him, drawing him like some poor moth to a flame. After all that had happened, he could still get lost in those gorgeous eyes of hers.
“Ha!” Joseph exclaimed, blessedly drawing Morgan’s attention. “Morg taught me and you still beat me.”
Jolie’s laugh tinkled like wind chimes. “The steer has to cooperate, too, you know. That handsome hunk of a hairy dude wanted to be caught by me, I think.”
“Well, duh,” Wes drawled. “Who wouldn’t?” That brought hurrahs from all and big goofy grins that were becoming commonplace around Jolie.
Jolie laid a hand on her heart and smiled at the boy. “Aw, that is so sweet.”
She was a born dazzler. Morgan realized that in all of her wordplay with the boys, she’d still somehow managed to make them feel good about themselves, even though she’d beat them fair and square. He liked that, and appreciated it.
But what he didn’t like was that he felt the shield he’d built up around his emotions slipping a notch as his admiration for her returned full force—he was feeling pretty dazzled himself.
Nope, he didn’t like that. Not at all.
She hadn’t even been back three days and he was already starting to think she was great again. He scrubbed the back of his neck, catching the half-amused eye of Rowdy.
Shaking his head, Morgan turned and headed toward the exit. While they prepared for the next groups muggin’, he needed to put some distance between him and Jolie.
Some poor sodbusters just never learned.
Chapter Six
You can’t go home again.
The words echoed in Jolie’s head all the way back into town after the steer mugging. She’d never expected to come back to the sleepy little town she’d grown up in on that day six years ago when she’d hit the gas and aimed for the horizon. She’d left in a haze of confusion and tears, torn between two worlds. Now, here she was, amazing as it seemed, about to start teaching at Sunrise Ranch.
Her Unforgettable Cowboy Page 5