Rebel Heart

by Barbara McMahon

  “Yeah. I’ll call you every couple of days to make sure you’re all right.” He sat down, his face closed.

  “I’ll be fine. I hope you get all the points you need to make the finals.”

  “You’ll still come to Las Vegas?”

  “I said I would.”

  They ate in silence.

  When finished, Jase left to pack. Shannon baked cookies, cleaned the kitchen, packed a huge lunch. She felt numb the entire time.

  It was late when she finished. Jase was still in the office. She paused in the door. “I packed you a lunch for tomorrow.”

  “Thanks. I’m leaving early. Sleep in. You don’t have to get up when I leave.”

  “Okay.”

  He rose and came around the desk, his eyes on her. She watched until he reached the halfway point, then launched herself into his arms. Encircling his shoulders she held on tightly.

  “Oh, Jase, don’t go. I’ll miss you so,” she whispered, tears running down her cheeks.

  His arms were like steel bands, molding her to him, pressing her tightly as if he’d never let her go.

  “Darlin’, you know I have to go. I’ve wanted this for so long. You knew I’d be leaving.”

  She nodded, clutching him tightly, breathing in the scent of him, imprinting the feel of him to never forget. She took a shaky breath, tried to brush away the tears before he saw them.

  “I know. But you’ve done so much for me. Taught me so much, enabled me to hire the new men, buy the feed—”

  “So help me, Shannon, if you mention how grateful you are one more time, I’ll shake you.”

  She tried to smile. “I know. I am grateful, but I won’t say it again.”

  “You take care of yourself,” he said roughly.

  “You, too. Don’t go falling again.” She didn’t want to let go. She wanted to hold him forever.

  “Don’t worry about me, darlin’, I’ll be fine.”

  She nodded and turned her head, kissing his cheek. Then his mouth covered hers in a brief, searing kiss before he set her back, turned and gently shoved her out the door.

  “I’ll call.”

  She nodded and continued down the hall. Tears blurred her vision. He was leaving and there was nothing she could do but let him go.

  Chapter Ten

  The days dragged. But Shannon was not the same woman who had approached an injured rodeo cowboy several weeks ago. She had more confidence in dealing with ranch issues. She could direct the men, plan for the future. She knew enough about the computer program to continue to input historical data. Once things were running smoothly, she could use it for estimates of feed needs, lineages of the different stock, plan sales.

  And if she needed help, she knew she could call on her neighbors, or ask Jase.

  He called her the third night.

  The call was not as satisfactory as she wished. He asked after the men, the stock, the horses. He’d even asked casually after her. But she wished he’d asked about her first.

  She’d followed his progress on the schedule he’d left her. Asked how he’d performed. While she couldn’t help wondering what he did between performances, she didn’t ask. If he was out partying with the other cowboys she didn’t want to know.

  She refused to credit Jase with the same behavior as Bobby. He’d told her not to compare him to Bobby and she tried desperately not to. He was a different man and deserved to be respected for who he was.

  Yet in the dark lonely nights, she wondered.

  She missed him. The ranch didn’t have the same obsession on her it once had. It became a place to live and to work. But without the person who made it all worthwhile, it just filled the time. She was restless, lonely.

  She followed the professional rodeo website to follow the standings. The first couple of weeks she saw no mention of him. But then she saw he’d moved back into the top fifteen for cutting horses. A week later, he had enough points that he had a shot at the National Finals Rodeo after all.

  She wondered if she dare take a few days and go see him perform.

  Two weeks after his phone call, he hadn’t called again. She went to bed each night wondering if she’d hear from him the next day, wondering if something was wrong. What if he’d tried to phone and she’d been out. If so, he'd neglected to leave a message.

  She checked his itinerary before she went to bed. He was in Wyoming. It was a long way away. Out of sight, out of mind? She wanted him to call to tell her he was all right.

  Shannon sat back in the office chair, vaguely pleased with the way things were going. The ranch was running smoothly. She was caught up on all the records, was confident in supervising the men and their tasks, and had easily handled the feed company when negotiating their latest order.

  Her desk was clear. Feeling proud of her accomplishments, she glanced around, noting a stack of Stockmen’s Journals waiting to be read. She hadn’t had a chance since before Rod arrived at the ranch.

  Since it had turned cool as October sped by, she was looking for something to do inside. She didn’t want to go out in the late afternoon air. Might as well catch up on the reading. She reached for the most recent journal.

  Curious, she flipped open the cover, leafed through. There was an article on—suddenly she stopped. There, facing her in full color, was a picture of Jase Hart. Her heart lurched as she studied the much loved face. What was his picture doing in the journal?

  Scanning the article, she was stunned. Slowly she leaned back in the chair, began again, reading every single word.

  “That lying, cheating, son of a bitch!” she hissed between clenched teeth, rereading the opening paragraph. “I’m going to find the meanest bronc in Texas and put him on it with his hands tied behind his back,” she declared, surging to her feet and rummaging around on her desk until she found his itinerary. She was so mad she could spit!

  “I’m going to stake him out on the plains and run a herd of cattle over him, twice!” She sought the date, matched it to where he was. Calculating how long it would take her to drive to Wyoming, she frowned and looked for where he’d be in two days.

  She snatched up the journal again, still turned to the article. Seeing his picture had her plotting other dire actions she could take to make sure he understood just how angry she was. Who the hell did he think he was making a fool of her like that? She’d skin him alive!

  It was late. Too late to leave today. She was not going to go haring off in the dark.

  First thing tomorrow she’d be on the road. Oh, just wait until she caught up with him! She’d wring his neck.

  Angry as never before, she flung the journal across the room, heard it hit the wall and fall with a plop to the floor. Pacing to control the fury that raged through her, she longed to face her husband, just for five minutes. She’d make sure he rued the day he’d lied to her.

  She hadn’t been this angry when Bobby had walked away. She hadn’t felt this hurt in all the time she could remember.

  “Just you wait, Jase Hart,” she muttered, pacing the room.

  Two and a half days later Shannon pulled her pickup truck into the fairgrounds holding the Trinity Rodeo. Pickups and horse trailers abounded, sharing the dirt parking lot with haphazardly parked cars. The area was designated for contestants. She had lied just a little to get in, but she figured it was justified. After all, it couldn’t begin to match her lying husband.

  She hopped out of the truck, turned to snatch up the rumpled journal, then slammed the door. Walking to the arena, she remembered the first day she’d met Jase. Anger boiled again. He could have said something that first day. Or any day since.

  She stopped two cowboys. “I’m looking for Jase Hart, do you know him?”

  “Know of him, rides broncs,” one said, running his eyes over her trim figure, giving her a friendly grin.

  “That’s right, do you know where he is?”

  “That event’s going to go off in another few minutes, he’s probably at the chutes,” the other offered.
/>   “And how do I get there?”

  “You can’t, unless you’re a contestant. And the last I heard they don’t take women.”

  Stalking away without a word, she bought a ticket for the stands. Climbing up until she had a good view of the arena, she found a seat in some shade and waited, quietly seething at the delay. The announcer was warming up the crowd. It was sparse; Friday afternoons were still working days for most folks. But the crowd was a respectable size. The stands would likely be full for tonight’s show, and the Saturday ones.

  Bareback bronc riding was the first event and she settled down to watch Jase compete. The first rider barely cleared the chute before falling. The second drew a horse that ran too mellow to rack up the points. The third rider scored in the low seventies. Jase was number four.

  Shannon gripped her hands together as he began to ride. The horse went wild, bucking and corkscrewing, his unruly mane and tail flying in the wind. Jase raked his spurs on the shoulders, one hand held high, the other holding the rope. His hat jammed on his head, he concentrated on the ride.

  Head almost between his knees, the horse tried to dislodge the rider. His hind legs flew straight up. He swapped ends. All four legs hit the ground at the same time, jarring the rider. Jase held on. Eight seconds ticked by as if in slow motion.

  Shannon held her breath, fear licking through her every single one of those endless seconds. Fear that he’d be bucked off, end up in the dirt again, maybe more injured this time than the last time.

  She could scarcely stand it. Adrenaline poured through her as she willed him to stay on the horse, to stick to the saddle, finish the ride and get safely off. Her palms were slick, she rubbed them on her jeans. She couldn’t stand it if anything happened to him. He had to finish the ride!

  When the bell rang, she sagged back in the bench, relief flooding. He’d made it. In another couple of seconds the pickup men had him safely on the ground waving at the crowd. His score beat the next highest by two points.

  Shannon scrambled out of the bleachers, heading toward the end of the chutes, no longer interested in the event. Thankful that he was safe, she still had something to say to her husband.

  “Jase!” She found him at the end of the arena, laughing and joking with a bunch of other cowboys. They all looked the same, tall, rangy, dressed in blue jeans and colorful shirts. Their hats ranged from black to straw to snowy white. Most of them were younger than Jase. All of them swung around at the sound of Shannon’s voice.

  “Shannon?” He pushed away from the side of the barn and headed toward her, his lopsided smile slowly forming. “What the hell are you doing here, darlin’? I’ve called you three nights running and got no answer.”

  “She yours?” one of the men asked.

  “Yeah, she’s my wife.” It was said with quiet pride.

  Shannon glanced at him, peered around at the group of grinning cowboys.

  “No wonder you never chat up the girls, I wouldn’t either if I had someone like her at home,” someone else called.

  “Something wrong at home?” Jase asked, taking her arm and turning her away from the rowdy cowboys. He walked her across the fairgrounds and toward the familiar truck and horse trailer. Shadow was tied in the shade, dozing.

  “Nothing wrong at my ranch,” she said firmly. Slapping him in the chest with the side of the journal, she stopped and glared at him, ignoring the small dart of pleasure that she felt seeing him. Trying her best to ignore how tanned he looked, how happy, how relieved she was that he’d finished the ride safely. Her anger flared again, hot and strong.

  “But I wouldn’t know about the Rafter C. Maybe you have more information than I,” she snapped.

  He looked at her, at the journal. Slowly he peeled it from his chest, lifting her fingers to release it. With a wary glance at her, he opened it. It took him only a second to find the article.

  “Something you forgot to tell me?” she asked, eyes narrowed. “Like that first day in Fort Worth at the hospital? I thought you didn’t have any place to stay while you recuperated. You never denied it.”

  “I never said I didn’t, either,” he answered carefully.

  “You lied.”

  “No.”

  “The whole thing’s been a lie from start to finish, hasn’t it? You own the Rafter C. One of the largest and most successful ranches in Texas. God, you must have laughed yourself sick at my offering you a place to stay on the Bar Seven. How could I have been such an idiot?”

  “Shannon—”

  “You didn’t need to stay at my place, you could have gone home and recuperated. Probably had a private jet fly out for you. Dammit, Jase, you lied the whole time!”

  “No.” He took her shoulders and shook her slightly to stop her tirade.

  “Listen to me, darlin’. I was intrigued by your request. I knew I couldn’t ride for a while so thought I might as well help you out. I remembered Bobby. He and I had been friends of a sort on the circuit. And I—”

  She broke free and stormed away, turning after a dozen steps to stomp back. “All the time I called you irresponsible and you never said a word. According to that article you built that ranch up from a small, almost-bankrupt spread to a showplace. The brightest star in Texas ranching,” she spat out. It had taken a lot more than a sense of responsibility to build up a huge ranch. It had taken hard work, grim determination and skill. Had he turned his back on it, shunned all duty since?

  No, that didn’t match with what she knew of him. He talked a good line, but responsibility was never far from him.

  “Shannon, I’m trying to explain, if you would shut up for a minute.”

  “I’m so angry I could hit you!” she yelled, emotions churning. She felt anger, but also betrayal and hurt. She had fallen in love with a man who hadn’t even done her the courtesy of telling her the truth about himself!

  No! She would not let herself be in love with anyone. She would not! She would stand on her own two feet and guard her heart from hurt.

  “Nobody’s going to hit anybody. Calm down, dammit. I can explain. Just listen, okay? Everything I told you is true. I just didn’t tell you everything there is to know.”

  The anger deflated.

  Stunned as she realized she loved him, the anger faded. That was the reason she’d come, to see him again, to be with him. That’s why the fear had been so strong when he rode, fear for the man she loved. Fear he might be hurt again.

  She shivered at the thought of loving a man who would never be home, who wanted an irresponsible existence.

  What she felt for Jase couldn’t compare with what she’d ever felt before. How could she stand it? She leaned back against the side of the truck and gazed off across the fields. Her heart ached. In the distance she could see the wooden buildings of downtown Trinity silhouetted against the afternoon sky. It was hot. She didn't expect Wyoming to be so hot. It was already late October.

  At home the trees had begun to turn and the nights were cold. And she stood there beside her husband, a stranger she knew even less about now than she thought she had before. Knowing she loved him scared her more than anything.

  She’d tried that once with a rodeo cowboy and failed. The hurt still lingered. But the fear of further hurt, deeper pain, was almost overwhelming. She couldn’t love him.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, the fight seeping out of her.

  “For a number of reasons. None of them seem any good right at the moment. But at the time, I don’t know, you didn’t seem to know who I was and that was a novelty. I’ve had women come on to me because I own part of the Rafter C, or because I’m winning in rodeos or just because they think I have money. Not because they really want to get to know me.”

  “For money?” Funny, she’d taken his money, too. Didn’t that make her like the others?

  “That and the prestige. I thought I’d help you out while my arm healed, then move on. I hadn’t expected it to turn out this way.”

  “Marriage, you mean?”


  “Yes, that’s what I mean.” He ran his hand around the back of his neck, glancing down at the article. “They did the interview a few months back. They always do interviews months before they’re published. To tell the truth, I'd forgotten about it.”

  “It’s a very enlightening article. I should be even more reassured you know your stuff. No wonder I learned so much. Sorry for the shots about irresponsibility.”

  She closed her eyes. Sorry I fell in love.

  “You made me so mad at first, equating me with Bobby. But then I guess I never gave you any reason to think differently,” he said slowly.

  “You still run it, don’t you, even doing the rodeos.” How could she have ever thought he was a man who shunned responsibility?

  “No, Josh’s managing it now. We talk from time to time, but he’s in charge.”

  The anger that had driven her over 900 miles vanished. She felt drained, tired, depressed. What had she expected, for Jase to deny the article? Tell her a fairy tale that would make everything come out the way she wanted? Had she really pursued him, just to see him again, to gain some sort of reassurance that he would continue in their marriage, that one day he’d be back at the Bar Seven? The truth was she loved him and didn’t like being parted, she wanted him home.

  In truth she’d used the article as an excuse to see him again. The last weeks had been so lonely without him.

  Love should bring happiness, joy. She felt almost sick. She wasn’t sure, wasn’t sure at all. All she knew was that it had been a mistake. From beginning to end, a huge mistake. And she was the one going to pay the price for it. If she could only undo the past, she’d make so many changes.

  Not falling for a cowboy would be at the top of her list.

  “I don’t know why you wanted forty percent of my operation. It can’t amount to a hill of beans in comparison to what you already have.” She rubbed her chest slowly, trying to ease the ache that was building.

  “What you have, too, now, darlin’,” he reminded her, watching her closely.