Rebel Heart

by Barbara McMahon

“Why me?”

  “Bobby might not have been the best of husbands, but he seemed to be a good judge of others. He admired you, said you were the best.”

  He chuckled. “The doubt in your tone leads me to think you aren’t too sure of his judgment.”

  “Well, you have to admit, anyone who would deliberately risk his life day after day riding wild broncs and bulls just for the hell of it might give a rational person a moment of doubt,” she said primly.

  He laughed, a rich, contagious laugh that had her smiling reluctantly, sharing the humor.

  “It’s wild and free and like nothing else in the world,” he explained.

  “Wild and free, like you? Don’t you think about settling down and getting on with your life?” she couldn’t resist asking.

  Bobby’d tried. For several months he’d tried, but had not been able to resist the lure of the rodeo circuit. The fast life, fast women and thrills drew him like an addiction. Shannon, who had never understood it, had only, finally, accepted it. Would they still be married and sort of happy had Bobby lived? Would he ever have tired of the challenge?

  Stunned by the swiftness of the change in Jase at her comment, she watched helplessly as his eyes grew stormy, his face grew remote and austere. For a second, Shannon felt a brush of fear. What had she said?

  “I’ve had enough responsibility to last me a lifetime. Now I’m doing what I want for a while, and that’s rodeoing. If you have a problem with that, maybe I’m not the man you’re looking for.” For a moment, the hard lines of his face were ferocious.

  Her heart banged in her chest. She longed to step back, put some distance between them, but she planted her feet, tilted her chin and remained where she was. She'd obviously touched a raw nerve, but she wouldn’t be cowed by the man. She needed him, and fate had provided her something to offer in return, a place for him to recuperate.

  “What you do with your life is your own business. But you need to stay somewhere while you heal. I only want your help while you can give it. I'm not asking for a long commitment. Just until you’re healed and ready to move on, why not help me in exchange for room and board?”

  “You came to the rodeo today to see me. Do you have second sight? Did you know I was going to take a fall and bust my arm? What were you going to do if I hadn’t had the accident?” He leaned back against the truck again, lines of pain and fatigue bracketing his mouth.

  “I planned to ask for a recommendation from you. I know you know ranching, Bobby mentioned it more than once. I thought you might recommend someone honest to help me. When I found out that you were hurt, the other idea came to me. It’s perfect. You’ll have a place to recover, and help me out at the same time.”

  He stared down at the pavement for a long moment then nodded. “Yeah, it has a certain appeal. You think you can learn everything that fast? This arm’ll heal in about six weeks, then I’m back on the circuit, with a lot of lost time to make up.”

  “I can learn some things in six weeks. It would be a start. Then maybe you can recommend someone else. What have you got to lose? You need a place to stay, don’t you?”

  He started to say something, then stopped. Shrugging his shoulders, he winced as the pain tore through his arm and chest. “Yeah, I guess I could use a place to stay. You’ve got yourself a deal, Shannon Blackstone.” His hand reached for hers and he shook it gently. He then turned and opened the door on the passenger side of her truck.

  “I need to go back to the arena so I can get my truck and horses.”

  Jase tried to ride the bumps in the road as Shannon drove back to the fairgrounds. The doctor had offered some pain meds, but he needed to stay sharp until his horses were taken care of. He didn't know if the bump on the head when he fell was clouding his judgment, or if the decision to help out temporarily was a good one.

  He glanced at the woman beside him. He needed to check out her story. Had she really been married to Bobby Blackstone? He remembered the cowboy. They competed sometimes in the same event. Bobby had been good. And wild. And one of the biggest flirts on the circuit.

  Shannon was pretty in a quiet, wholesome way. Not like the flashy gals that hung around rodeos looking for a good time.

  It wasn't long before they reached the fair grounds. He directed her to the back where the rigs were parked. His horse had been taken care of by someone, he could tell. The gelding was hitched to the side of the trailer, with plenty of water in a portable trough.

  “Are you able to haul the trailer?” he asked. It wasn't like driving a car.

  “Sure. I've done it plenty of times. But how do I get my truck home?”

  Despite refusing the drugs, he was having trouble concentrating. His arm ached. Breathing hurt. And the truck could use some new shocks. He was sure they'd hit every bump and pothole on the drive from the hospital. Now he had to come up with a way to get her to drive his rig to her place. Probably not a good idea to suggest she leave it here for six weeks.

  “Oh, I can't believe it, it's Steve Sturney and his son Petey.”

  Before he could even ask who they were, she was out of the truck and almost running after two cowboys sauntering along beside the horse trailers.

  Two hours later Shannon drove Jase’s big truck, hauling the double horse trailer behind them. Jase dozed in the passenger seat. She still could hardly believe she’d run into a neighbor and his sons at the fairgrounds. Petey had agreed to drive her own truck back to the Bar Seven. Jase had given his keys to Shannon, clearly doubting her ability to pull the trailer. But by the time they’d cleared town, he’d seen she was fully capable of handling the rig and he relaxed.

  She glanced over at him and felt a tug at her heart. He looked much younger sleeping against the door. His long lashes brushed against his tanned cheek, the lines caused by pain eased with the medicine he finally took when he was assured she could handle the rig on the drive to the ranch. His position looked uncomfortable, but he was oblivious to all discomfort as he slept.

  She concentrated on the road. It'd never do to become too interested in Jase Hart. She had one purpose--learn all she could about ranching so she'd never be taken in by a swindler like Rod Thompson again. The ranch was all she had. She had to make a go of it. It'd been an unexpected legacy from Bobby and the only thing of value she’d ever owned.

  She had picked up some skills after she and Bobby had married. But her background didn't include ranching. She'd been the only child of an Air Force pilot. Her mother had died when she'd been a baby. A tornado when she'd been in high school had leveled her home and killed her father. She'd barely made it through high school after that.

  Luck had given her a good job at a local bank. Several years of experience had her applying and being accepted for a junior management position at the bank in Tumbleweed where she'd met Bobby Blackstone.

  The ride to the ranch took more than an hour. She drove carefully, conscious of her passenger and the magnificent cutting horse she pulled. She wanted to give both of them the most comfortable ride possible.

  When she turned off onto the gravel drive that led to the house, she glanced once again at Jase. He was awake, watching her.

  “Feeling better?” she asked as the gravel crunched beneath the tires. The grassy hills rolled out before them crisscrossed with barbed wire fencing. Cattle were visible in the distance. She loved this part of Texas. The hills were beautiful in all their moods and she never wanted to live anywhere else.

  “So this is your place?” he asked, looking around as they drove further into the ranch.

  “Yes.” Pride echoed in her voice. She smiled as she gazed over the spread. She'd learn everything she could to run it properly. She wanted it to be a showplace.

  “Some of it’s deeded land. Some of it’s leased from BLM, Bureau of Land Management.”

  “I know the BLM, darlin’,” he muttered, amused. “What do you run?”

  “Polled Herefords.” She threw him a dark glance. “My name’s Shannon.”

  “I know
, you told me.”

  “I’m not your darling,” she said stiffly.

  He chuckled. “Early days yet, darlin’.”

  “This is strictly a business arrangement, Jase Hart. I’m not at all interested in anything personal.”

  “Now, darlin’, that’s a bigger challenge than trying to teach you to run a ranch. Don’t be throwing out statements like that or you might find yourself up against more than you bargained for,” he said, amusement lacing his tone. His voice was disturbingly husky.

  She closed her eyes briefly as his voice washed through her. She tried to concentrate on driving the truck.

  Despite the attraction she felt, she knew better than to get involved with a cowboy. Never again. Tilting her chin, she pulled into the yard, drove past the ranch house and to the big barn behind it. She cut the engine and turned to glare at him.

  “I married a cowboy, I know all about how charming you all can be, and how you have the faithfulness of a rutting stag. All I want from you is your help in teaching me enough to run the ranch efficiently. Save the rest of your flirtatious ways for a woman who wants them.”

  He studied her then nodded. “As you say, darlin’.”

  He opened the door and stepped out.

  Save it for someone who would believe in it, as she once had. And as she longed to again. At the unbidden thought, she pushed open her door and hurried to the rear of the horse trailer.

  “I’ll get your horse out,” she said, swiftly opening the ramp and letting it down.

  “I can manage,” Jase said, wincing as he watched the ramp reach the ground.

  “Are you always so stubborn?” she asked. She scrambled into the trailer and moved to the horse’s head, soothing him with easy words of praise as she located his lead rope and snapped it onto the halter.

  “Do you always rush in where someone else could do it?” he asked from the back.

  She grinned, peeking around the big gelding, and nodded. “Always.” Slowly she backed out the gleaming horse.

  “He’s a beauty,” she said as she drew level with Jase. Standing on the ramp, eye level with him, she wished that she could always be that tall. With a sigh she continued down until he towered over her again.

  “Shadow. He’s a champion.”

  “Champion cutting horse?”

  “That’s right.” Jase reached out and took the lead line from her and headed toward the barn. Shannon kept up with him.

  “I thought you rode the broncs.”

  “I do. I also participate in the cutting events. Shadow's won me a ton of money. We should do even better this year. And I can ride him when I can’t ride the broncs.”

  “You need to make sure your ribs heal, not just your arm.” Why was she telling him how to run his life? He was all grown up. It didn’t matter to her if he healed before he headed out. She only wanted his knowledge to help her on the ranch.

  “I’ll stay the six weeks. Don’t worry about that.”

  “He can have this stall.” She swung open the door to the stall, watched as Jase settled the chestnut in the large box stall, then opened the door on the far wall that led to the corral. “He must be worth a lot if he’s winning you prize money.”

  Jase shrugged. “I don’t want to sell, so I don’t know what he’s worth.”

  “If you sold him you’d have some ready cash, maybe enough to buy a place of your own,” she said slowly.

  He closed the door, latched it, leaning on the top bar to watch the horse explore his new home. “I don’t need the money to get a place. What I want to do is ride the circuit, see some of the country, be responsible to no one but myself. Go where I want, when I want, do what I want.”

  She turned away, surprised at the shock of hurt that plunged through her. Those had been Bobby’s feelings. Even though he professed to love her, he’d wanted to leave and do his own thing. The responsibility of the ranch had proved too much. The responsibility of being married had proved too much. She hadn’t asked to fall in love with her husband. She'd wanted a man to love, someone she could depend on to be there for her, someone she could build a life with, not have visit when the mood struck.

  “Where do I sleep?” Jase asked as she gazed at the gelding.

  She blinked, the thought of him in bed flooding through her mind. Feeling the steal of color in her cheeks, she desperately hoped he couldn’t read minds.

  “You can have one of the extra bedrooms in the house.” She swung around and headed swiftly for the house.

  Jase grabbed his duffel bag from the back of the truck as they passed and followed her, his boots crunching the gravel beneath his feet, ringing hollow on the wooden porch.

  “Down here.” She didn’t pause when she entered the house, but headed down the hall to the large guest room on the left, several doors from her own. It would do.

  The house had been built for a family. She'd once hoped she and Bobby would fill it with lots of children. Now she lived in it alone.

  She stepped aside so he could enter, watching him fill the room with his presence. For a moment, she wondered if she’d lost her mind. Why have him stay in the house? Rod had had a room in the bunkhouse. Was she crazy to put Jase so close? She was only fooling herself if she thought he’d need any help because of a mere broken arm. Putting him so close was like putting a torch near a keg of gunpowder. She'd better watch her step, or it was all likely to blow up in her face.

  “This’ll do fine,” Jase said as he surveyed the room. Then he turned to her, staring at her for a long moment. He took a step closer. His eyes were smoky gray. His lips were lifted in that easy half smile of his. The injuries faded into insignificance beside his blatant masculinity.

  Shannon’s pulse sped up, her breathing became more difficult. Was he going to touch her? Kiss her? Heat suffused her body. She knew she should turn, should walk away, but she was paralyzed, like a deer in headlights, unable to move, unable to reason, only capable of feeling.

  To her utter surprise, he closed the door in her face!

  Jase turned and swept his hat off and tossed it on the dresser. Gingerly removing the sling, he shrugged out of his shirt. He hoped he could get his boots off, but if not, he'd sleep in them. He was about out for the count as it was. Five minutes later he'd fallen into bed, pulled the coverlet over his chest. He ached everywhere. And he couldn't for the life of himself figure out why he agreed to Shannon Blackstone's crazy idea of him teaching her to run a ranch profitably.

  The last thing he wanted was to be responsible for anyone other than himself. And some starry-eyed young woman would be a bigger responsibility than he'd ever known if he let her.

  Chapter Two

  “Morning, darlin’,” Jase’s lazy voice called across the kitchen.

  Shannon paused, then turned, the fork still in her hand. Momentarily she forgot the bacon she was cooking as she took in the tall, rangy cowboy leaning casually against the doorjamb. His voice traced through her senses like hot syrup, warm and sweet. His easy grin and devilish eyes touched her with a lazy sensuality that was disturbing and totally unwelcome.

  She scowled and nodded to the table.

  “Have a seat. I was going to bring your breakfast to your room. I didn't know if you'd be up and around today or not. You took a hard fall.” She turned back to the sizzling bacon. She was beginning to doubt whether her plan, which had seemed so practical in theory, was going to work. How could she get anything done, learn anything to help her become a better rancher when she was so very aware of Jase as a man?

  “No need to wait on me, darlin’. I’m not your responsibility. It'll take more than yesterday's knock to slow me down.”

  “Stop calling me darling. And while you’re on this ranch you sure are my responsibility. Just as all the hands are. How do you feel today?” She tried to get on the offensive and take charge.

  “Better than yesterday, worse than tomorrow.” He drew back a chair, scraping the floor. Shannon jumped at the sound, throwing him an angry glance. It was
a mistake. His eyes caught hers, the silvery shimmer held her mesmerized.

  He was the one that broke first, trailing his eyes insolently down her small frame, taking in the loose cotton shirt, her snug jeans, the scruffy boots. Slowly he traced back up and met her gaze again; his, clearly hot and interested.

  It made her blood boil—especially when she could feel the heat rise at his gaze. She tilted her chin, masking her churning emotions with disdain, and turned back to the stove. Her hand shook slightly, but she knew he couldn’t see. Scooping up the last of the bacon, she didn’t even bother with any effort with the eggs, she scrambled them all.

  Five minutes later she set the heaping plates on the table. That had proved to be the longest five minutes in her life. She'd felt his gaze bore into her back every second. She knew he studied every move she made, and was a hairbreadth away from making some annoying comment. And if he had even hinted at anything—

  A darting glance at his face let her know he knew she’d have blasted him to kingdom come if he’d opened his mouth. And Bobby had liked the man! She shook her head. She’d always thought her husband had had some smarts, now she wondered.

  “You always put your foreman up in the house?” Jase asked as he tucked into the hearty breakfast.

  “I thought you might need something during the night. When you’re well, you can move out to the bunkhouse.”

  “Hardly worth it. I won’t be here that long,” he said easily. “You’re a good cook.” He had almost finished the meal.

  “Thanks for saying it, but it doesn’t take much to cook eggs and bacon.”

  “These biscuits are light as air.”

  They were good, and one thing she excelled in. Actually, Shannon could cook. She could do a lot of things, but not run a ranch. Yet.

  “You didn’t grow up around here?” Jase asked as he poured himself another cup of black coffee and tipped back in his chair. His cast on his chest, he rested his cup against the plaster. He studied his hostess.

  “No, farther west in a podunk town you've probably never heard of.”