Stone Cold Cowboy

by Jennifer Ryan

  “It’s okay.”

  Rory handed her the bag his brother had packed for her.

  She unzipped it and shook her head. “Does Colt think I’ve got a hot date, or something?”

  “What? Why?”

  Without thinking, she pulled out the black lace bra and panty set Luna had bought her for her last birthday, teasing her that maybe if she wore them she’d feel sexy and say yes to one of the many guys who came into the diner and hit on them. She’d never worn them and didn’t have time for dating. The guys she met never really captured her interest. Well, one man had her full attention. He stood in front of her, his eyes wide and locked on the lingerie in her hands.

  “Uh, I guess he grabbed whatever was there.”

  “Yeah, right. He had to dig deep to come up with these.” She slid off the bed. “My feet are still swollen.” She wiggled her sore toes. “I’ll make whatever he brought work. Really, I’m grateful you guys thought to do this for me, otherwise I’d be wearing this ridiculous gown home.”

  “It’s better than what you arrived in.”

  She laughed under her breath, not really feeling it at all. “I guess you know black lace isn’t exactly my everyday thing.” That’s right, he’d seen her practically naked in her less than appealing cotton bra and panties. Great. Add humiliation and embarrassment to everything else that happened to her.

  “There’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about.” Rory’s gaze dipped down, scanning her body all the way down to her toes. She felt the heat wash over her skin even as the flush bloomed on her cheeks. The man barely said anything to her, but what he did say seemed to hit her hard and deep.

  She ducked her head, slid off the bed onto her sore feet, and hobbled to the bathroom, carrying the duffel at her side, happy to be free of the IV line. It brushed the gash on her leg, and she hissed in a breath. Rory was beside her in the blink of an eye. Who knew the big guy could move that fast?

  He held her arm to keep her steady and stared down at her. “Are you okay?”

  “I just hit the cut on my leg.”

  “Do you need some help getting dressed?”

  She put her hand over his on her arm. “I’ve got this. Really, I’m okay.”

  He pressed his lips together. Lips that looked soft, despite how they always seemed to be turned down into a frown. “You don’t look fine at all.”

  “You don’t look so hot yourself, cowboy. You need to get some sleep and eat a decent meal.”

  “You barely ate your breakfast. You refused lunch.”

  “Sorry, I guess I should have given it to you.”

  “I don’t want to take you home,” he said out of the blue.

  “What? Why?”

  “I can’t be sure you’ll be safe there.”

  “It’s my home. Nothing is going to happen to me.”

  “I bet you thought that when you went after your brother. His friends are dangerous. Do you have somewhere else I can take you? How about to Luna’s place?”

  “No. My father needs me. I’m going home.” She stepped away, pulling her arm free of his light grasp. She walked into the bathroom and closed the door. She needed the distance. Rory sitting beside her bed watching over her gave her comfort when it shouldn’t. She could take care of herself. Okay, except when some nutcase strung her up in a tree to get his rocks off watching her bleed. Still, she didn’t need Rory to worry about her. She didn’t need him to act like he cared.

  She didn’t need him.

  But God, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone like him. Strong. Dependable. Someone who cared about family, the land, a way of life she used to have but lost these last years as her ranch turned to dust and the horses got sold off. Instead of working her ass off to keep her head above water and her brother out of jail, what would it be like to have a home, a husband, a life that included love and happiness and laughter? God, when was the last time she laughed? When was the last time she went on a date? Or felt the way Rory made her feel with one look? Although sometimes those looks could mean he’d like to kill her as much as they could mean he wanted her. There wouldn’t be a whole lot of laughing with him. The man never smiled.

  Except for one little girl he called angel. Kaley changed everything about him. He responded to the little girl and let down his guard. His very fortified guard. Why did he need it?

  She didn’t know, but it made him less than approachable. So how the hell was she going to make things right with him when she didn’t have the money to pay him back for the cattle?

  With her mind still cloudy from the pain meds, she pushed her worries aside and undid the gown strings at her back. It hurt like hell to move. Everything ached, but she got the job done and let the gown fall and pool at her feet.

  The bandages around her ankles and wrists sent a bolt of fear rushing through her. The sense of being bound and hung by her hands made her skin break out in a fine sheen of sweat. Naked, she stared down at her body and every nick, scrape, puncture, and cut.

  “Are you okay in there?”

  “I’m fine.” She couldn’t hide the quiver in her voice.

  “Sadie.” Rory’s deep, rich voice held so much concern. For her. The sister of the man who stole from him. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She’d held it together so far; she wouldn’t break down now. Not with Rory standing right outside the door.

  “I’m almost done.”

  She pulled the clothes out of the bag and set them on the sink. The panties were pretty. She should wear them more often. For whom? She had nothing but work and debt in her life.

  The lace molded to her hips. She slid her hands over the soft material, taking in something soft and good when so much in her life was hard and went from bad to worse. She pulled the bra straps up her arms and adjusted the cups at her breasts, but when it came to trying to fasten it at her back, it hit a particularly nasty cut and stung. She tore the bra off and tossed it back in the bag, opting to put the black tank top on without it. She pulled the black leggings on, thankful Colt hadn’t brought her a pair of jeans. The soft cotton was much better on her legs than denim. Because of where the elastic waistband hit around her waist, she pulled it lower to avoid a particularly sore line of gouges at her sides and across her belly. She looked and felt like some abused voodoo doll a witch doctor used to curse her.

  She leaned down to pull on her sock, but lost her balance when the movement hurt her sore back and shoulders. She let herself fall to the floor. Bad idea. She put out her hand to catch herself, only to hurt her wrist even more.

  She groaned and sucked in a deep breath to stave off the pain.

  The door flew open and Rory rushed in, bending down beside her and brushing his hand over her hair. She stared up at him, lost in the depth of concern filling his eyes.

  “Are you okay, sweetheart? Did you fall?”

  Sweetheart? Did she fall? Damn if her heart didn’t trip, then stutter back to some new beat. Yeah, maybe she was falling for this quiet giant, but it needed to stop. She was tired. Hurt. Looking for something good and decent to hold on to and here he was, but he wasn’t for her.

  “Sadie.”

  “When you say my name . . .” She shook her head and stared down at the floor.

  “What?” he asked the top of her head.

  If feels like you’re calling me home. She couldn’t say that to him. He’d think her mad. Or at least drugged out of her mind. Yes. That was it. Nothing but all the pain meds they’d given her. She’d be thinking straight and clear again tomorrow.

  “Nothing. Never mind. I’m fine.” No you’re not. You’re losing it if you think Rory would ever be interested in you for anything other than finding your brother and killing him.

  “I tried to put on my socks.” What else could she say?

  Rory’s gaze narrowed on her and focused on her moving her hands back and forth, stretching her wrists. He tucked one arm under her up-drawn knees and the other at her back, his hand dipping under her arm. He picked her r
ight up off the floor like a feather and settled her against his chest. He carried her into the other room and set her gently on the bed. Without a word, he went back to the bathroom, grabbed the bag, came back, and set it at her feet. He picked up her hairbrush from inside and stepped close next to her and began running the brush over her tangled mess of hair. Everything in her stilled at his soft touch, the rhythmic sensation of the brush sliding through her hair. A tidal wave of memories flashed through her mind.

  “My mother used to brush my hair at night.” She’d tell Sadie how pretty she was, how much she loved her. Sadie didn’t feel either of those things right now. “I miss her.”

  Rory didn’t say anything for a long moment, just kept brushing her long hair down her back. “My mother used to let me stay up on snowy nights,” he said at last. “She’d put all of us boys to bed, then come back and get me so my little brothers didn’t know. She’d take me downstairs to the big window in the family room. She’d sit in the overstuffed chair with me in her lap and we’d drink hot chocolate and watch the snow, the house dark and quiet. Her presence used to fill the quiet. I miss her most when it’s quiet.”

  “You lost both your parents, right?”

  “Avalanche covered their car on a back road through some steep terrain. They froze to death before help arrived.”

  Sadie turned to face him. “Oh God, Rory, I’m so sorry. Then you found me out there nearly frozen to death.” She closed her eyes for a moment, imagining what that must have done to him. “I can’t imagine what went through your mind.”

  “Murder.”

  “You thought I was dead? Great. Add that to the list of things I have to make up to you.”

  Rory shook his head. “No. I wanted to murder whoever did those heinous things to you.”

  “Yeah, well, get in line behind me.”

  “You do realize it’s only a matter of time before the cops find your brother and put him in jail.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m going to be the one who puts him there.” She raised her shaking hand to her head and pressed on her forehead above her eye where the stress headache gathered strength.

  Rory took her shaking hand in his and held it. “Are you afraid to go home?”

  Yes. No. Yes. “I don’t have a choice.” She stood beside the bed, but didn’t step away. She couldn’t.

  Rory held firm to her hand. He didn’t hurt her, just gently tugged to get her attention. “He’d be stupid to come after you again, knowing I’m coming after him.”

  She met his steady gaze. “Don’t you think that’s a bit arrogant?”

  “It’s the truth. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She cocked her head, wondering how he planned to do anything once she was back home, back to her mundane life.

  “If you need me, I’m there.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Rory stopped the truck outside Sadie’s home. Once she got dressed—and put a light blue sweater over the black tank top that hugged her curves and drove him nuts—she dragged her feet getting ready to leave. He hated the way her hands trembled, the lost look in her eyes as they drove, the quiet that grew thick inside the truck, and most especially the unnatural distance she kept between them, her side pressed to the door.

  “Do I make you nervous?”

  Her head snapped toward him. “No. Why?”

  “Do I scare you?”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  The front door to her house opened, drawing her attention. He reached over to touch her shoulder just to see what she’d do. She jumped, turned, and smacked his hand away. He held his hand up to let her know he didn’t mean to harm her. Something died inside him, knowing she really did fear him.

  “Rory, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s the matter with me.” She raked both hands through her hair and held it at the back of her head, staring out the window at her home with the sagging steps, weathered white paint, and cracked front window.

  “You’re scared.”

  “I don’t have time to be scared.”

  “You’ve got no cause to be scared of me.”

  “It’s not you. It’s me. I can’t get what happened out of my head. What he did to me. Why?” She let out a heavy sigh. “I’m just sore and tired and . . .”

  “And?”

  “I don’t know if I have it in me to keep doing this.”

  “You do.”

  “How do you know that? Up until you found me the other day, the only other time we met is when my brother was stupid enough to take a swing at Colt.”

  “Going up against one Kendrick is stupid. Taking on all three of us is suicide.”

  She smiled. Not a lot, just enough to tilt her pretty lips up at the corner and put a little spark back in her eyes. Those eyes swept over him.

  “I see your point. The three of you together is a whole lot of muscle. I appreciate you letting him go that night.”

  “If you hadn’t stepped in—”

  “And nearly gotten decked myself.”

  “We’d have taught your brother a lesson about being stupid.”

  “You let him go for me?”

  Rory pressed his lips together and nodded. “You’ve got guts to put yourself in front of your brother and in between us. You’ve been holding this place and your family together for years. You need some rest, time to let what happened settle, and you’ll bounce back.”

  “Right. Back to work. See if I can dig myself out of this hole.” Sadie pulled the handle on the truck door and pushed it open.

  “Hold it. Let me help you out. You’re still recovering.”

  She turned back and looked him right in the eye. “You’ve helped more than I deserve. Thank you, Rory. You don’t know what it means to me that you not only saved my life, but stayed with me. I can promise you, I’ll try my best to pay you back.”

  “Sadie . . .”

  She slipped from the car with her bag slung over her shoulder and headed for her father up on the porch. He held his arms out to her and she walked right into them.

  “Hey, Dad. How are you?”

  “No use fussing over this old man.” He held her softly, not wanting to hurt her, but then stepped back and held on to her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  “Right as rain.”

  “No use lying to me, girl. That Colt Kendrick came by to tend the horses and told me all about what happened.”

  “I’m fine, Dad. Come on, let’s go in and get you settled. You must be hungry.”

  He looked past her shoulder. “Who’s your friend?”

  Sadie spun around to face him, her golden hair flying out behind her. “Rory, is there something you need?”

  “Yeah, you to stop dismissing me.”

  “I . . .”

  “Mr. Higgins, I’m Rory Kendrick. Have you seen your son, Connor?”

  Her father stepped beside her and hooked his bony arm around her waist, holding her close. “He’s not about to show his face here after what he’s done.”

  “What’s that smell?” Sadie raised her face and sniffed the smoke on the breeze. Without a thought to her injuries, she bolted past her father and ran into the house.

  Rory followed Mr. Higgins in and found Sadie in the kitchen, flipping the stove handle off. She used the potholder to shove the smoking pot off the burner. She waved the pot holder to clear the smoke in the kitchen, then stepped back and opened the kitchen window. Rory opened the one in the living room, noting the piled-up papers, food wrappers, and remotes on the table next to the recliner.

  “Did you burn something?” Mr. Higgins asked, looking genuinely confused.

  Sadie stared at her father. The initial fear from the fire faded to concern and sadness. “Why don’t you go watch your show, Dad. I’ll clean up here and make you something to eat.”

  Mr. Higgins coughed from the smoke, but the rattle in his chest and the way his face turned a deep red disturbed Rory. He took a closer look at the man who couldn’t be more than fifty-five. His pasty complexion,
thinning hair, frail frame, and the dark circles under his eyes made him seem older and like a man who’d been sick a long time.

  “Mr. Higgins, are you okay?”

  “Fine. Just trying to catch my breath.” Mr. Higgins coughed a couple more times.

  Sadie stood beside her father, rubbing her hand over his back.

  Her father looked up at her and reached to touch the nasty bruise on her face. Like he didn’t see it at all, he said, “You look so much like your mother.”

  “Come, Dad, sit in your chair. You need to rest.”

  “Your mama used to make the best fried chicken and biscuits. Mmm, mmm, those biscuits melted in your mouth.”

  Sadie led her father to his chair. Mr. Higgins shuffled along beside her and literally fell into the seat. Sadie handed him the remote and bent next to him, though it cost her to do so thanks to her many injuries. She squinted her eyes in pain, but didn’t let her father know how much she hurt. That hurt ran deeper for her father’s deteriorating condition.

  “I love you, Dad.”

  Her father ran his hand down her head and held a lock of her blond hair in his hand. “Now, what’s all this?”

  “I had a bad day. I wanted you to know. I love you. I’ll take care of you.”

  “You always do. You’re a good girl.” Mr. Higgins looked around the open room. “Will Connor be home soon?”

  “I’m sure he will. Can I get you something to drink while I make dinner?”

  Mr. Higgins patted Sadie’s hand on his leg. “I’d like that . . . you know the . . .” Mr. Higgins’s eyes squinted as he tried to think of the right word. “You know what I like.”

  “Sure, Dad. I’ll get it.”

  Mr. Higgins focused on the TV. His face went soft as he stared. Rory wasn’t sure he was actually watching TV or lost inside his muddled mind.

  Sadie stood and cocked her head, indicating for him to follow her to the door. She walked out and down the porch steps, standing between the house and his truck.