by B. J Daniels
“I was thinking it might have been a bear who messed up our tent,” Roy Shields offered, his face coloring. It was the first time Roy had said that many words since J.T. had met him. “I saw prints on the way back to camp.”
Cotton groaned. “I did have some cookies my girlfriend sent and they’re gone.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time we had a bear in camp,” Slim chimed in, the group seeming to relax a little.
“You all know this is bear country and we need to keep a clean camp,” J.T. said and looked pointedly at Reggie.
“Sorry, Mr. McCall,” Cotton said.
The talk around the table turned to cows and how many had been rounded up. Tomorrow they would begin gathering the rest of the strays. With luck they could be out of here the next morning.
J.T. noticed that the men all seemed tired while Reggie appeared to be getting her second wind. He didn’t see that as a good sign.
He felt a little guilty for what he’d said to her earlier. He hadn’t meant to come down so hard on her. Maybe she wasn’t responsible for the disabled truck, or for whatever had happened to Luke Adams, or Buck not returning yet. But he had a bad feeling that someone in this camp was and he feared it was the owner of the gun he’d found.
Chapter Nine
All the men cleared out right after dinner, including J.T. Regina could hear some of the men standing around the fire, a couple of them talking quietly. She could see the flicker of the campfire through the window and their silhouettes.
J.T. wasn’t one of the men standing around the fire. She wondered where he’d gone. She wished he’d stuck around. She’d hoped to talk to him. It dawned on her that if he continued to be suspicious that she was behind the things that had been going on in the camp, he wouldn’t be looking for the real culprit.
She’d seen how worried he was about Buck. She hoped he was wrong and that the elderly foreman was just running late for some reason. She couldn’t bear it if anything happened to Buck because of her.
She finished the dishes and stepped out on the porch, needing a breath of fresh air. The bath in the creek had been wonderful. She felt like a new woman and smiled, remembering J.T. under that tree. His eyes were the palest blue she’d ever seen in a face that was rugged and so sexy it made her knees weak. J.T. had insisted on wrapping her sprained ankle, which felt much better.
She heard someone approach from the darkness of the pines and knew without looking that it was him.
“Come on,” J.T. said and motioned for her to follow him.
She didn’t question where they were going, just stepped off the porch, glad for his company tonight. She followed him along the dark edge of the cabin on the side away from the campfire, away from the men. Her ankle ached, but she wasn’t about to complain.
He stopped at the edge of the corral. She saw that he’d moved the other horses into the corral next to it.
Stars popped out in the clear midnight-blue sky over the tops of the pines. Tonight the sky seemed even bigger, the stars brighter. Or was it just being here with McCall? She felt awed, humbled under such a sky, everything that had motivated her to this point in her life seeming insignificant.
“The first thing you need to learn is how to saddle a horse,” he said quietly as he picked up his saddle, which was straddling the corral fence, and shoved it at her.
Her knees practically buckled. The saddle was heavy, much heavier than she’d expected. She could feel his look of disdain and hurriedly righted herself, hefting the saddle a little higher, getting under it. She’d be damned if she’d drop it.
She followed him over to where he had his horse tied to the corral railing.
“It takes a little effort to get the saddle on,” he said.
She imagined so given that she was way down here and the horse’s back was way up there. She took a breath and tried to lift the saddle up and onto the horse’s back. The saddle went over the top, almost taking her with it.
He retrieved the saddle and handed it to her without a word. This time she got the saddle in the right place and practically swelled with pride at her accomplishment.
He straightened the saddle and proceeded to show her how to cinch it down and put on the bridle.
The horse, of course, moved away, snorting and giving her a look that said, over his dead body. She grabbed the rope Killer was tied to and pulled the beast closer. She refused to groan. At least out loud.
“Good job. You’re stronger than you look,” J.T. said, with maybe a little admiration in his tone, when she’d finished. “Okay, let’s adjust the stirrups. It’s time to get on the horse.”
Her heart was thundering in her chest, her hands shaking as she took the reins he handed her.
“Don’t drop these. This is how you control the horse, okay?”
She nodded, staring at the horse, remembering that feeling of being out of control when she was astride the monstrous thing. She swallowed and repeated her resolve to learn to ride.
Reaching up to grab the saddle horn, she put her foot into one of the stirrups and pulled herself up, swinging her leg over, grinning in surprise to find herself astride the horse.
McCall smiled.
The horse shuddered and hopped over a few feet to the side. She quickly dropped the reins and hunched over the saddle horn, gripping it with white knuckles.
She heard J.T. groan.
“What did I tell you about the reins?” he asked handing them to her again.
“Don’t drop them.”
He nodded and looked up at her, shaking his head as if she were hopeless.
He got the horse moving and showed her how to hold the reins in one hand and lay them to one side of the horse’s neck. To her amazement the horse turned.
“Good,” he said.
She tried turning the horse the other way. Shoot, it was like driving a car. Kinda.
“Okay, walk him around the corral.” McCall climbed up on the corral to watch.
She rode around the corral and even let go of the breath she’d been holding when she didn’t immediately slide off. Or get bucked off.
After a dozen laps, she brought the horse to a stop next to J.T. She couldn’t see his face in the darkness but she could feel his gaze.
“Good job. How’s the ankle?”
“Fine,” she lied.
“Right. Better call it a night.”
A twig cracked off in the woods behind them. The horse shuddered. J.T. brushed her leg as he steadied the horse.
“Okay, let’s see you get off by yourself,” he said quietly as if he was listening to something beyond them. “Think you can get down and unsaddle him?”
She nodded. The horse felt warm against her calves. She reached down to run her hand over his neck. Nice boy. It surprised her. She didn’t want to get down yet. The truth was, she didn’t want this time with J.T. to end.
“You never told me how he got the name Killer,” she said, remembering just what she was sitting on.
J.T. drew his attention back to her. “His full name is Lady Killer.”
“Why would you— You were just trying to scare me?”
“I was angry with you for taking off by yourself. I was trying to teach you a lesson.”
“I’m sorry.” She really meant it. “I didn’t realize when I talked Buck into hiring me as your camp cook the trouble I was causing.”
“I know.”
“I know you’re worried about Buck,” she said. “Can’t you ride down and check on him?”
J.T. shook his head. “I can’t leave here.”
“But don’t the men know what to do while you’re gone?” She could feel his gaze on her. She knew what she was suggesting. If he went, he’d come back with a four-wheel-drive truck and insist she leave. Any chance she had of talking him into the commercial would be over. “I’m worried about Buck, too.”
J.T. THOUGHT she couldn’t surprise him. He looked up at her. She didn’t look afraid of the horse anymore. She seemed to have forgotten tha
t she was even on it. But he feared there was much worse in the night to be afraid of.
She swung down out of the saddle and reached for the ground with her foot, the one attached to the sprained ankle. The moment it touched earth, she fell backward.
He caught her, his hands curling around her waist, keeping her close. Past her, he could see the campfire through the pines but no one around it. Earlier all five men had been standing around it. The fire had burned down to glowing coals now. Everyone had gone to bed. Maybe.
“If I left and came back with a truck you’d be free to go search for another jeans model,” he said quietly as she turned in his hands to face him.
She shook her head and smiled ruefully. “Anyone else would just be settling.”
“I thought this was your big chance, that it meant everything to you.”
“There’ll be other commercials,” she said, her voice wavering a little.
He wanted to believe her. “This cowboy thing was your idea?”
She nodded. “Most of our models are professionals who look like…models.”
He knew without asking. “You have a deadline coming up soon?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Of course it mattered. He got the feeling that if she blew this assignment, it would have very bad consequences on her career and he knew how much her career meant to her. Everything, she’d said.
“Ride out in the morning,” she said now. “I can make breakfast for the men. Hey, I might surprise you.”
He could count on that. He laughed softly and pulled her closer. “I can’t leave you here,” he whispered against her mouth. “It’s too dangerous.”
REGINA THOUGHT she heard a noise in the darkness over the trees. It sounded like the crack of a twig, only this time it was closer. Much closer.
He must have heard it, too. He drew back. “Go to the cabin.” He dropped his voice. “Keep the door locked.”
If he was trying to scare her, he was doing a darned good job of it. She hurried back to the cabin, taking the path on the campfire side this time, her ankle aching badly now. She heard the murmur of voices in the cowhands’ wall tent, but saw no one.
The porch side of the cabin was dark. She hurried along the worn boards to the door. She’d left the lantern on in the cabin and was welcomed by its warm glow as she rushed inside. Because the cabin was small and only one room, she saw at a glance that it was empty. Hurriedly, she locked the door behind her and stood for a moment trying to catch her breath.
J.T. said he couldn’t leave because of her. Because it was too dangerous. What did he mean by that? Surely he wasn’t just trying to scare her into giving him the distributor cap from the truck. She wouldn’t put it past him. After all, he’d told her his horse’s name was Killer.
But they’d both heard something out in the woods. And Luke’s horse had come back, his saddle and gear stuffed in a box outside the cabin to make it look as if he’d left. Had that been Luke out there spying on them? Listening?
She touched her tongue to her lips and hugged herself, still excited by the horseback ride and the kiss. She must be losing her mind. But then so must McCall. How else could she explain the kiss? How did she explain any of J.T.’s kisses, she thought with a sigh.
With only towels on the windows, she felt too vulnerable with the lantern on. She went to the bunk, found her small flashlight and extinguished the lantern. For a few minutes, she stood in the dark, watching the gap between the window frame and the towel. Nothing but tree limbs moved beyond the glass.
She turned on her flashlight and put more wood in the stove. She wasn’t tired at all—not after that long nap she’d had.
Was she really resigned to finding another model for her jeans commercial? If she was trapped up here much longer it wouldn’t make any difference. Unless she had a model by the end of the month, she could just kiss the promotion goodbye. But so much more had been riding on this advertising plan. She tried not to think about it.
She couldn’t search for another cowboy posterior until she could get off this mountain. But she knew what she’d told McCall was true. She’d just be settling if she chose another cowboy. She would always know that she’d gone for second best—and that had never been her style.
So why wasn’t she in a complete panic? She told herself it was because there was nothing she could do, but she knew there was a lot more to it. McCall had changed everything. The six-foot-four man with blond hair and blue eyes and the best behind she’d ever seen had spoiled her for another cowboy. Or another man.
She listened, hoping she would hear his footfalls on the porch soon. She was worried about him. If Buck didn’t return soon, what would J.T. do? She knew he was trying to get as many cattle rounded up as possible but he seemed…scared. Not for himself but for her and his cowhands. And she knew him well enough to know that J. T. McCall wouldn’t scare easily.
She thought about everything that had happened at the cow camp. None of the incidents should have had him that frightened. There had to be more going on than he’d told her.
J.T. WALKED the perimeter of the camp, telling himself the sound he’d heard was a deer or an elk. He circled back to the corral, the camp quiet, and unsaddled his horse and carried the saddle to the big tent.
On the way, he looked in on the cowhands.
All five cots appeared to be occupied. He closed the tent door, sure at least one of men had seen him checking on them. Will Jarvis. Was he awake because he’d just climbed into his sleeping bag?
The campfire had burned down. No light burned in the cabin. Maybe Reggie’s walk had been good for her, made her too tired to do any roaming tonight.
But still he had to go check on her. He left his saddle in the tent and walked toward the cabin feeling strangely vulnerable because of her. She was his Achilles’ heel. He wanted desperately to go look for Buck, but he couldn’t leave her. Nor was he sure he could protect her.
The men would take care of themselves as best they could if they had to. They’d known what they were getting into when they’d signed on. There was always some danger involved whenever you were this far up in the mountains. And they could all ride. Any one of them could get out of here in a matter of hours by horse.
But Reggie… He hated to think how ill-equipped she was to survive here. Especially since she didn’t ride a horse and he could tell that her ankle was hurting her more than she wanted him to know.
He reached the cabin and tapped softly on a windowpane, waited and tapped again. He wasn’t about to go to the door. The last thing he could trust himself not to do would be to go inside where it was warm, where Reggie would be possibly wearing that heart-stopping negligee—
Her face appeared in the window, startling him. She looked pale.
“Are you all right?” he mouthed.
She nodded and gave him a smile. “You?”
He had to smile. “I’m fine. Did you bolt the door?”
She nodded again and motioned did he want to come in?
He shook his head a little too vigorously because she laughed. “Good night.”
“Good night,” she mouthed back. She did have a great mouth.
He quickly turned and walked toward the tent, smiling to himself.
Now if Buck and Luke Adams would just show up. But he knew he wouldn’t stop worrying until this roundup was over, until Reggie was safe, until he knew who had sabotaged the truck and killed the cows.
He wished a cell phone did work up here. He would call the ranch and see what had happened to Buck.
But a phone call wouldn’t solve the mystery of what had happened to Luke. J.T. thought the cowhand had left in the middle of the night because he’d realized he’d made a mistake by coming back here, the memory of what had happened nine years ago too much for him.
But with Luke’s horse returning, his saddle and gear stuffed in the box behind the cabin, J.T. was worried that Luke hadn’t left running scared. Luke hadn’t even left under his own power.
J.T. stopped to listen to the night. Hearing nothing unusual, he stepped into his tent and tied the canvas door closed. He pulled off his boots and jeans and crawled into his sleeping bag, knowing he wouldn’t get much sleep tonight.
As he closed his eyes, he listened for the sound of a truck coming up the mountainside. Prayed for it. What he wouldn’t give to see Buck’s weathered old face right now and know he was safe.
Just before daylight, J.T. heard a sound that bolted him upright in bed. A terrified shriek.
J.T. pulled on his boots and dove from the tent wearing only his long underwear. It took him a moment to realize the sound hadn’t come from the cabin where he’d expected it had.
The wall tent door next to his flew open, the air filling with cries and cussing as the men lunged out into the darkness half-dressed.
“What is it?” J.T. demanded as everyone circled, Roy snapping on a flashlight and shining it on Cotton.
“Rattlesnake,” Cotton said from between gritted teeth and leaned down to pull up the leg of his long underwear. “The son of a bitch got me.”
J.T. stared at the bite mark in the glow of the flashlight. There weren’t any rattlesnakes up this high in the mountains. Especially in October. He could feel everyone looking at him, no doubt thinking the same thing.
“What’s wrong?” Reggie called from the cabin porch, sounding scared. “McCall?”
“Go back in the cabin! I’ll be there in a minute,” J.T. hollered back. He swore as he turned to go out into the trees. He picked up a limb and returned. Roy handed him the flashlight without a word. Carefully, he stepped into the tent.
The flashlight beam illuminated only a small circle of golden light. He quickly shined the light around the tent, the beam skittering over the canvas floor. No snake.
Gingerly, he moved along the cots, shaking out each sleeping bag. He hadn’t gone far when he heard the distinctive rattle and froze.