by Janice Olson
“That bad, huh?” He slid easily into the chaise with a glance in her direction. “So it isn’t just me. And here I thought I was the only one having an awful time.” He gave a good-natured chuckle.
“I’m afraid not. But tell me about your day.”
BJ waited patiently as Jason seemed to be working out the problem in his mind. She noticed a flash of pain cross his face. Pain she could empathize with. Pain seemed to be her constant companion.
“Nothing much. It’s just …” He paused, shook his head, doing his best to control his emotions. He breathed in deeply, releasing slowly before answering. “It’s nothing, yet it’s everything. How much time do you have?” His misery made her want to touch him, be near him, brush away the wrong of his day, and in the process forget about a mother who couldn’t love.
“All night if need be.” She tried for cheerful to ease his hurt but knew she fell short.
Surprised to realize her decision to live without Jason had changed. BJ figured her altered attitude took place when she found he wasn’t a married man. Or maybe because her life seemed void and in need of human contact too. Who was she trying to fool? Jason was the contact she wanted and needed most … especially now.
“Ever since I moved into this confounded house—” He slung his hand back in the general direction, his voice gruff. “—I’ve had trouble at my ranch. My cattle are being slaughtered, and this morning my foreman’s son was shot. He’s at Trinity Medical hanging to life by a thread.”
“I’m so sorry, Jason. Is there anything I could do?” Her problems seemed puny compared to his. He’d been dealing all day with life and death, and all she could think about was who her father might be and the duplicity of Madelyne.
“Nothing anyone can do, except catch the men who have been doing this. And believe me, I will eventually.” He rammed his fingers through his hair then folded his hands in his lap, staring at his templed thumbs.
Jason’s hands were seasoned, tough work hands. But BJ knew they could also be gentle and loving. Even now, she could remember his soft touch, soothing her, calming her fears.
He looked into her eyes as though searching for something, His eyes seared a path over every inch of her face.
Just as she began to feel awkward, Jason gazed off into the night, resting his head back against the cushion.
“Billy Jo?” He didn’t move just continued to stare into the darkness.
“Yes.”
“What happened between us?”
Her heart slammed against her chest. Not what she had expected him to ask. “What do you mean?” The words rushed out sounding breathy and false.
“Forget I asked.” Disgust in his tone.
She wanted to ignore the question, give him some vague answer. But to bring up the past now? Not when she was already raw with pain of her own. Pain, regardless who inflicts the wound, hurts. However, the abundance of hurt in his piercing blue eyes was too hard to ignore.
Today is a day for truth.
She took a breath, deciding to offer at least a partial truth. “Nothing—everything. Youth. Scared. The town. Who I was—an orphan.” She clamped her hands together in her lap.
“But why? You knew I loved you. I thought you loved me.”
“Oh, Jason, I did.”
“Then how could you?”
“The answer’s not that easy.”
“Billy Jo, what people think has never mattered to me, only you. I would have fought the whole town, the world, even my parents to make them accept you.”
“It wasn’t that simple.”
His fingers clinched around the armrests of the lounge. “We could have moved where they wouldn’t know who you were if it mattered that much to you.”
“They’d know.”
“They could have learned to love you, just like I did. Yet you left without a word.”
“Oh, Jason. Please. Don’t do—”
“No one knew where you were.” Again he leaned his head back. “For a while I thought you were dead, until Randi wrote Robby. That’s when I knew better.”
The sadness in his voice cut her to the quick. Made everything she’d done seem foolish, selfish, and for all the wrong reason. “Let me explain.”
“Explain that you didn’t love me enough to stick around? I figured that out the day you walked out of town and I never heard from you again. All I want to know is why.”
BJ placed a hand on his arm. The moment she did it, she knew touching him had been the wrong thing to do. All the old feelings, all the plans they had made as teens, all the love they’d shared, came rushing back, mocking her for the foolish, frightened choices she made so many years ago.
He glanced down at her fingers.
She made to move her hand, but before she could, his large, calloused hand engulfed hers, gently holding on with a firm persuasiveness. It felt right.
When she swallowed, the sorrow stuck in her throat making it achy and difficult to speak. “Can you ever forgive me for the hurt I’ve caused? I never meant to. I would have never left town that night if it hadn’t been for …”
Could she reveal the real reason she’d left Serenity that night? If she did, Jason would seek revenge.
Chapter 54
The tall bushes offered a quasi-shield from detection and dusk gave him an added advantage. If need be, he could disappear within seconds. He stood the rifle against the tree trunk by his leg and leaned his back into the rough bark feeling the ridges through his shirt. He had picked this stand of trees for its cover and the great view of the terrace. And his waiting had paid off.
His fingers lifted the half-empty package from his shirt pocket and he hit it against his palm. A cigarette popped out. He grabbed it between his lips, turned his back, struck a match, holding the flame to the tobacco. With great satisfaction, he inhaled deep and long, holding that first surge of nicotine for an extended period of time to allow it to seep down through his body into every pore. The first intake was always the best and helped to ease tension.
He shook the match back and forth until the small flame was extinguished. Turning his head, he released a plume of grey smoke from his lungs. He watched as it shot up into the air to finally settle down around him, disappearing completely. His victims were much like his smokes, he always savored his first contact, the initial draw, the release, then setting them free to disappear forever. Only the euphoria left for him to savor.
Lifting the cigarette to his mouth, taking another drag, he watched Goldilocks on the patio. He lowered his hand to his side. She was a vision of loveliness. If he hadn’t lit the cigarette, he could have no doubt caught the scent of her womanly essence all the way down here by the trees. Just thinking about it caused his fingers to curl. He threw his smoke on the ground and snuffed it out with his shoe.
Excellent timing on his part, just like before. Patience—what was that saying “patience is a virtue.” He smiled. In this case, patience would get the job done. The only hitch, O’Connell showed up. But that wouldn’t stop him. He’d be able to deliver another message to Goldilocks, give her another taste of fear, and maybe send her packing, but in reality, he hoped not. He had an affinity for women who didn’t scare easily. They were a lot more fun and entertaining.
He quietly observed the byplay of the two on the terrace and had the greatest desire to smash cowboy’s face to the back of his skull. But the rancher wasn’t the reason he stood under the tree waiting. The temptation of watching her had been too much to resist.
It’s all about Goldilocks … and me the big bear. His humor brought a laugh to his throat, but he didn’t make a sound. He didn’t want to give away his surprise. For some reason, Goldilocks could sidetrack him as no other woman had been able to, and he wanted to know why. Her kind of distraction wasn’t good for his line of work. Could easily get him into trouble.
His hand instinctively went to his chest pocket for his smokes only to remember he’d used the last one. Without cigarettes the night wouldn’t become any ea
sier, might as well get it over with.
Lifting the rifle to his shoulder, he zeroed in on his target, took a breath, and then released the air from his lungs, squeezing the trigger. The moment the shot released, he lowered the gun to look at his handy work. Tucking the twenty-two rifle between his ribcage and bicep, he wrapped his arm around the barrel. He charged full speed for the gate and didn’t stop until he was safe inside his truck on the country road heading away from town.
If that didn’t work, next time I’ll up the ante with some bodily contact—close and personal which I’d like. But I’m sure Goldilocks won’t.
Chapter 55
The flower pot disintegrated between Jason and BJ shooting dirt and flowers in all directions. BJ’s arms shot up shielding her face as her scream rent the air.
Shards of pottery flew by Jason’s ear missing him by a fraction. He dove over BJ, yanking her down beneath him, his back to the stand of trees, shielding her with his body. Jason’s lungs heaved with exertion and fear of more to come as the rapid beating of heart pounded his chest, uncertain if more shots were coming. He pressed her body deeper into the cushion. Her slight frame trembled while long seconds of torment and fear seemed to drag into hours of waiting for the next gun report.
When no more came, Jason moved back slowly, allowing BJ to sit up behind him in the chaise lounge. He wouldn’t let her move any further than what the protective shield of his body allowed. The perfume she wore seemed to cling to him. Love and concern for her safety surfaced and he knew he was going to be in a world of hurt for loving BJ. She doesn’t want you or what you have to offer. But he couldn’t and wouldn’t fight it any longer. He wanted her, and he was burning mad someone had nearly taken her from him.
He had to clear his throat to speak. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
“No.” She gave him a dazed look. “What was that?”
“A gun. Someone is either a terrible shot or just sent a warning.” He wanted to do bodily harm to the person who had done this.
“Who? Why? The money?” Her voice trembled.
Jason didn’t answer. Instead he pulled her to her feet and shoved her in the direction of the door, keeping his body between her and where the shot came from.
“Inside.” He opened the door to the house, pushing her inside. “Go to your office. Call the police and stay away from the windows. Please.” He touched her cheek, his eyes pleading with her. “I’ll be right back.”
He heard her call his name, but he didn’t answer. Sprinting toward the line of trees where the gun had been fired, he knew before he got there, the person would be gone. But he had to check to make sure.
Jason found no sign of anyone. He ran back to the house and to BJ’s office. When he entered, she jerked around, her hand fingering the locket around her neck.
“Did you see anyone?”
“’Fraid not. He’s long gone. Did you call the police?”
“Yes.” BJ looked shaken and vulnerable. “Why, Jason, why?”
“Come here.” He gathered her in his arms. She didn’t resist. It felt so right. The ice around his heart melted and he had no defense against this woman in his arms.
“Could be the money.” His chin rested against her temple relishing the feel of her in his arms. “But more than likely it’s the same one who has been butchering my cattle.” She looked up at him and he couldn’t resist. His fingers swept the silky gold strands from her brow. He wanted to kiss the fear from her eyes, but knew better than to try.
“Your cattle?”
Still in the circle of his arms, he looked deep into her eyes. “Pure meanness. Someone has been slaughtering my calves, but we’ll catch them.”
“Oh, Jason.” Her troubled eyes filled with remorse.
Concern and profound anger rolled through him when he saw a trickle of blood that had made a red path down the side of BJ’s temple then along her jaw line. He used a tissue from her desk to wipe away the blood. He relaxed a little when he saw it was only a small cut, but even that was too much.
Jason moved his hands over her face inspecting for other injuries. At first, he thought she was going to resist, but she stood patiently. He brushed away streaks of the dark brown dirt on her cheek.
He grabbed another tissue, applied pressure with his fingers to her temple, still searching for any other signs of injury but found none.
Seeing her questioning eyes, he said, “It’s just a small cut.” He didn’t realize he had pushed hard against the injury until he saw her wince. She quickly tried to hide the pain.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“That’s okay. It’s just a little sore.” She touched his blue shirt where a dark stain made a stark contrast. “Are you hurt?”
“No. I think that’s your blood, not mine. Probably when I shoved you under me.” He pulled the makeshift bandage away. “It looks like its stop bleeding, but it wouldn’t hurt to hold it in place a little longer.” He slid the tissue in her hand.
A good thing the culprit wasn’t in front of him. He would have killed him with his bare hands for what the bullet almost cost him … Billy Jo.
He knew he was seven kinds of a fool for nearly causing BJ’s death. If he hadn’t seen her sitting alone … no. When he saw her, he couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t resist. And tonight he had been in such desperate need of human contact—hers.
“BJ?” His fingers lifted her chin to look at him. Without him realizing, BJ had wormed her way into his heart. “This is my fault and I’m sorry.”
“No.” Her breathy cry was almost his undoing.
His finger touched her lips. “Shhh. I shouldn’t have gotten close to you. There’s a madman trying to get even with me. For what? … I don’t know. As you suggested, could be the money. But now he’s hurt you.”
“How do you know that bullet wasn’t meant for me?”
“I believe it’s the same guy who’s causing havoc on my ranch. The cattle, Reuben, and now you.”
She stood silent and brushed at the blood on his shirt. Her face turned darker, the color giving her a kissable glow. “Sorry about your shirt.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Jason’s throat grew thick with desire. He wanted to grab her up into his arms, but he moved back. “You need to clean that cut. Go inside. I’ll send Martha up to help you.”
“I do have a small headache. I think I’ll take your advice. I’m going to clean up and go to bed.”
“BJ.”
“Yes?”
“We need to talk. Tomorrow.”
Chapter 56
After the police left, Jason decided to make another pass over the grounds where the shot was fired. Taking a flashlight, he walked to the strand of trees again, shining the light on the ground. He found one cigarette butt with no filter, crushed. The same kind he’d found the day Beauregard had chased BJ. Nearby, the grass was flattened, like someone stood waiting for some time.
Shifting his foot back and forth through the lawn, he uncovered a shell casing hidden in the grass a little ways from the tree trunk, a foot or two from the trampled grass. Jason picked up the object. Turning it over he noticed it was a twenty-two before he slipped it into his pants pocket.
The flashlight cut a path through the darkness as he continued to look for clues, but found none. He’d take a better look in daylight, but he was sure he wouldn’t find anything more.
Heading in the direction of the dirt road that backed up to one side of the property, Jason found the gate standing open, padlock missing, chain hanging loose. He made a mental note to tell Sidney to make sure all gates were checked, rusty locks and chains replaced with new ones, and to see to it that the fence surrounding the estate had no breaks. Pulling the gate shut, he realized the hinges worked effortlessly, probably been recently oiled. Jason wondered if this was where the shooter had entered.
When Jason returned to the terrace, he looked for the remnant
s of the shot. Kneeling by the flower pot debris, he found the spent bullet. He rolled the metal between his fingers to remove the dirt. No doubt, the same one that belonged to the twenty-two casing.
“You had to be a pretty poor marksman … or were you right on target? A warning perhaps? Whose? Mine or BJ’s?”
Except for his slaughtered calves, BJ’s track record looked pretty bad up against his—the tire incident, the bull, the snake, and now this. He didn’t like where his thoughts were headed. But to his way of thinking all signs added up to BJ as the target. She needed a bodyguard, but he knew she’d never agree to one. He could hire someone without her knowledge. She’d never know and he’d feel a whole lot better about her safety.
On his way to the French doors, he noticed something stuck between the cushion and the side of the lounge. He picked it up and saw that it was a journal with something stuck between, marking the page. Desperately wanting to open and read the thing, he knew better. He wouldn’t betray her trust that way.
He shifted the book to his other hand. The bookmarker fell to the ground. As he bent to retrieve the thin scrap of plastic, Jason heard one of the doors open and looked up. BJ walked through coming toward him. He hoped his desire wasn’t as evident as he feared it to be.
He picked up the object then stood smiling and advanced in her direction. “You look a lot better but I thought you were going to bed. Feeling okay?” Her smile warmed him.
“Yes. I took some aspirin. Did you see anyone?” She looked down at his hand, a frown appeared.
“No. Nothing at all.” He held out the book to her. “I was just going in when I found this in the chair. About to bring it to you.”
Her eyes were glued to the little scrap of plastic in his other hand. He looked at the thin short band. Speechless, he held it out to her. He knew he couldn’t hide the shock in his eyes.