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Guardian Cowboy

Page 7

by Carla Cassidy


  The men who chose to sit at the bar were usually the single men of Bitterroot. They were the loners and the lonely, the disenfranchised and the men who took their drinking seriously.

  Next to Myles was Damon West, a widower who had lost his wife to breast cancer three years ago. Was it possible he was looking for a new wife and had chosen Janis to fill that role?

  Seated at the other end of the bar was John Bailey, a forty-something man who had never been married. Did he harbor a secret thing for Janis? Hell, it could be anybody she served a drink to.

  Too many suspects and not enough information, he thought with frustration. So far everything that had happened had been pretty benign. What concerned him was the possibility that things would escalate. And if that happened, he hoped nobody got hurt...or killed.

  Chapter 5

  Bright sunshine greeted Janis on Sunday morning when she woke up, and the sight of it filled her heart with happy anticipation. This afternoon she would once again have Sawyer all to herself.

  He’d come in last night with his Holiday Ranch tribe and she’d been happy when he’d ordered soda instead of beer. He appeared to be all-in on the no drinking policy and she was so pleased that he’d made that decision for himself.

  Whether she was together with him or not in the future, he’d be a better man in staying away from alcohol. But today she didn’t even want to think about him not being in her future. She intended to just enjoy each and every minute she shared with him.

  By twelve forty-five she was clad in a pair of jeans, a light blue T-shirt, and had a navy sweater in her hands as she stood at her door waiting for him to arrive.

  Would she always feel this kind of crazy anticipation when she knew she was going to see him, to be with him again? She hoped so, but she also knew there was still a lot to learn about each other. It was possible that ultimately they would discover things about each other that would make them realize they had no future together.

  She’d never really believed she’d ever find a man who would want to spend the rest of his life with her. All her plans, all her dreams for the future, had been built on the notion that she would be alone.

  But as Sawyer’s truck pulled in, she had a moment of hoping that maybe her dreams really could be revised to include a special cowboy.

  You’ll never find a man who really loves you because you’re nothing but a dirty little whore. The strident voice echoed loudly in her head.

  “No,” she whispered aloud. She shoved the hateful voice, and the pain it always brought with it, away as she left her room and hurried to the truck. She absolutely, positively, refused to allow any negative thoughts to screw up her day with Sawyer.

  He greeted her with one of his sexy smiles as she slid into the passenger seat. “You ready for a fishing contest?”

  “What do I get if I win?”

  “Ha, that’s a real optimistic question. Maybe you should ask what the loser gets,” he replied.

  She shot him a cheeky grin. “Maybe I don’t care what you’re going to get as the loser.”

  He laughed and that set the mood for the day.

  They reached the Holiday Ranch and she sobered as he told her about the shed that was going to be built over the burial site of the seven teenagers Adam Benson, the former foreman of the ranch, had killed.

  When the spring tornado had ripped across the land, it had not only taken Big Cass’s life but the cleanup had unearthed the seven skeletons. It had not only been an unsettling discovery for all the men who lived there, but also for the entire town of Bitterroot.

  She sat up taller with interest as he drove across the greening pasture and to the pond that sparkled in the afternoon sunshine.

  “I’ve got a big picnic basket packed full of goodies, but I thought maybe we’d fish for a little while before eating,” he said as he shut off the truck engine.

  “Sounds good to me,” she replied.

  Minutes later they sat on the end of the small dock that extended out over the pond, their poles dangling over the water. “Do you always wear a gun when you go fishing?” she asked, noting the weapon in the holster on his hip.

  “Whenever we’re out in the pasture, we all usually wear our guns. You never know when you might encounter a wild critter.”

  “What kind of wild critters?” she asked.

  “There are snakes and an occasional coyote, but we’re always on the lookout for the abominable thingamagoblin.”

  “The thingamagoblin? Oo-oh, that sounds really scary,” she replied, loving the twinkle that lit his eyes.

  “It is a terrible thing to behold. None of us has really gotten close to one, but it’s said to be a big, hairy beast who has big fangs for teeth. It’s large enough to carry a full-grown cow and it makes a kind of squealing cry that chills a man to his very bones.”

  “Then I’m glad I have a big, strong cowboy to protect me from such a beast,” she said with a mock shiver.

  “My pleasure, ma’am.” Together they laughed. “You told me the other night that your dad used to take you fishing. Tell me about him.”

  Memories filled her head, happy memories tinged with a pang of sorrow.

  “As far as I’m concerned, he was the best father a child could have ever had. When I was small, each morning I would curl up in his lap at the breakfast table and he’d hold me for a few minutes before my day began. When I started school, he always had something special planned afterward for us to do together before dinner. Not only did he teach me to fish and how to shoot a gun, but he also took me shopping for pretty dresses and to the beauty shop to get my hair and nails done.”

  Oh, she couldn’t begin to tell him everything that had made her childhood with her father so magical. He was the man who had taught her not only how to respect nature but also how to dance. He’d understood her life-or-death need to have a backpack covered in bright red hearts in the fifth grade, and he’d consoled her that same year when mean girl Dana Witherspoon had told her she’d never be popular because she was too stupid and plain.

  “What did he do for a living?” Sawyer asked, pulling her from her inner thoughts.

  “He worked at the bank as a loan officer. He once told me that his greatest joy was when he could loan people the money they needed and one of his greatest sorrows was when he had to tell somebody no.”

  Sawyer took his hat off and raked his fingers through his hair. He eyed her with a twinkle of humor. “So, were you a good kid or were you a little bit ornery?”

  “Definitely a good kid.” Her fingers itched to reach out and stroke through his hair that sparkled so enchantingly in the sunshine.

  “I was an excellent student and I toed the line. Not because I was afraid of punishment, but because I never wanted to be a disappointment to my parents, especially my father.”

  Her line jerked. “Oh, I think I’ve got a bite.” She scrambled to her feet.

  Sawyer quickly joined her. “Don’t lose it.”

  She jerked the line and began to reel in. “I’ve got it,” she exclaimed with excitement. She kept tension on the line and a few moments later pulled in the smallest little catfish she’d ever seen.

  Sawyer laughed. “The way you were reeling, I thought you were going to pull in a whale. That little fish doesn’t hardly count as a catch.”

  “Ha, but in the contest of who is going to catch the biggest fish, right now I’m in first place,” she replied.

  He laughed again. “I’ll give you that, but our fishing time isn’t over yet.”

  They fished for another hour or so, but no more fish were caught. “Looks like I’m the big winner of the day,” she said as they reeled up their poles in preparation of enjoying their picnic. “And you never told me what the prize was for the winner.”

  He took her pole from her hand and then placed them in the rear of his pickup. He turned back to her an
d his eyes were lit with a shine that half stole her breath away.

  “The prize is a kiss,” he said, drawing her into his arms. He then planted a kiss on her forehead and released her.

  She stood still, disappointed in her prize. Why had he kissed her on the forehead? Had he found her kisses wanting in some way? He certainly hadn’t acted like it the last time he’d kissed her.

  He grabbed a large cooler basket from the back and gazed at her again. “You ready to eat?”

  “Yes, but what I really want to know right now is why you didn’t kiss me on the lips.”

  His eyes once again flamed with heat. “Oh, woman, I have to pick and choose when I kiss you on the lips because kissing you is way too hot and exciting. If I kiss you right now, then I might not want to stop, and you deserve far better than a roll in the grass in a pasture.”

  A warm thrill sizzled through her at his words. Sawyer Quincy was definitely working his way quickly into her heart. “Okay, now I’m ready to eat,” she said.

  He maneuvered the picnic basket onto one shoulder and then grabbed her hand as they walked to an area near the pond. A happiness she’d never known before filled her. It made the budding green leaves on the trees look brighter and the smell of early spring flowers much sharper. The sky appeared more blue than ever before and the birds all sang happy melodies.

  They reached a lovely spot with mature trees surrounding a large clearing. He opened the basket and pulled out a big red-and-white-checkered tablecloth. “Get comfortable and prepare for a feast,” he said.

  As she sat on one corner of the tablecloth, he began pulling out cold drinks and then container after container. “My goodness, you weren’t kidding about a feast,” she said. “Did you pack all this?”

  He knelt on his knees to finish unloading. “If I was smart, I’d tell you I spent all morning putting this food together especially for us.”

  “And if you weren’t smart?” she asked.

  He grinned at her. “I’d have to confess and tell you that the truth is I had nothing to do with the food. Last night I told Cookie that I was having a picnic with a special lady today and he did the rest. Why don’t you start opening the containers and let’s see what we have.”

  By the time he sat, she’d revealed ham-and-cheese sandwiches, potato salad and a medley of bite-size fruit. There was also potato chips, bread and butter pickles, and brownies for dessert.

  “Unfortunately there are no french fries, but maybe one night you can eat dinner with us men on the ranch and get a taste of Cookie’s seasoned fries.”

  “I’d like that,” she replied, pleased that he wouldn’t mind her being around his friends when she wasn’t serving them at the bar. “It’s so nice out here. It’s a good place to listen to nature’s heartbeat, as my father used to say.”

  “I think I would have liked your father,” he said. They began to fill the sturdy paper plates Cookie had provided.

  While they ate, they talked about the food, the birds in the trees and the fish they’d caught in the past. She believed most of his stories, but when he told her that he’d once pulled in a crappie almost as big as his horse, she cried foul.

  When the leftovers were packed in the basket, they stretched out side-by-side on their backs. She looked up at the blue of the sky and released a deep sigh of satisfaction.

  They were silent, but it was a comfortable quiet. The scent of his cologne eddied in the air and filled her with both a simmering desire and a sense of contentment.

  “I’m glad you aren’t a woman who feels the need to fill every silence with a lot of chatter,” he said after a few minutes.

  She rolled over onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow. “I’ve always been comfortable with silence. I spend a lot of time alone, so the silence is familiar to me.”

  “Did you always plan to be a bartender?” He changed his positon to mirror hers.

  “Heavens, no,” she replied with a laugh. She sobered as she remembered what had once been some of her dreams for her future. “My dad wanted me to go to college and get a degree in accounting or maybe nursing. ‘Money-people and health-care workers will always have a job,’ he used to tell me.”

  “So why didn’t that happen?” Sawyer asked.

  She shrugged. “Things changed when dad died. My mother told me there wasn’t money for college. By the time I turned eighteen, all I wanted was to get out on my own. I had my car and a handful of plans that had nothing to do with real life.”

  “I think I know about all those plans,” he said. “I imagine they were the same ones I had when I left home.”

  She nodded. “I figured it would be easy to be out on my own. I’d get a great job and an awesome apartment. I’d work hard and build a wonderful future for myself.”

  She’d show her mother. That’s what had driven her out of her house and out on her own the day she’d graduated from high school. She’d do great things and make her mother regret all the hateful, hurtful, things she’d ever said to Janis.

  “So, what did you do?” he asked. His gaze searched her features, as if trying to memorize them.

  The sun was warm, but his gaze made her warmer and suddenly she didn’t want to talk about her past anymore. She wanted to see his beautiful eyes light with humor. She wanted to hear the sound of his deep laughter.

  “Thankfully, Gary gave me a job when I turned nineteen, along with the room to live in. The bottom line is I survived and now here I am with you, as the official winner of a fishing contest.”

  Sure enough, his eyes twinkled and a sexy smile slid across his lips. “How long do you intend to keep crowing about this fishing thing?”

  “Until we fish together again and you figure out how to beat me,” she replied.

  “Maybe we should fish a little more right now,” he replied.

  She grinned. “You’re just eager to take away my championship status.”

  “I am. But before we get to the fishing, there’s something I want to do.”

  “What’s that?”

  He leaned forward and captured her lips with his. Sweet fire swept through her and her heart quickened its pace. Her impulse was to lean forward, to get closer to him. But he made no move toward her and, before she knew it, he’d ended the kiss.

  Instead he abruptly got to his feet. “Come on, woman. Let’s see if I can catch a fish bigger than your little minnow.” He held out a hand to her.

  Although she would have lain on the tablecloth and kissed Sawyer forever, she grabbed his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet for more fishing adventure.

  Instantly, a loud pop resounded, sending birds to fly from the treetops. “Get down,” Sawyer yelled at her.

  What was happening? Before her mind could make sense of things, Sawyer threw her to the ground and covered her body with his. All of his muscles were tensed and her heart fluttered with fear as he pulled his gun and pointed it toward a nearby stand of trees.

  * * *

  Another pop smashed the silence and Sawyer returned fire despite the fact that he could see no target. Whoever it was had the cover of trees while he and Janis were out in the open like two sitting ducks.

  His brain worked overtime to digest the fact that somebody was shooting at them. But his number-one priority was to get Janis to safety.

  His truck wasn’t parked too far away. At least that would provide her with some kind of cover. All he had to do was to get her out from beneath him and to the vehicle.

  He had no idea who the shooter was trying to hit, but what he did know was those two bullets had whizzed precariously close to his head.

  “Janis, I need you to run to the truck,” he said softly. Her body tensed beneath his. He thought he could feel the frantic beat of her heart but, under the circumstances, it was hard to tell if it was hers or his own doing the quick thudding. At least she wasn’t scream
ing like a banshee as many might do under the circumstances.

  “Okay.” Her reply was a mere warm whisper against his neck.

  “On the count of three, I’m going to roll off you and start shooting. You run like hell to the truck and get on the other side of it. You should be safe there.”

  “But...but what about you?” she asked with a touch of frantic fear.

  “I’ll be all right,” he lied. In truth, he had no idea if he’d get out of this situation alive or not. He hoped like hell he would, otherwise he worried about what would happen to Janis if he wound up dead and his killer went after her.

  “One...” He felt her body tense even more. “Two...” Her gasp heated his throat. “Three.” He rolled off her and at the same time fired several shots toward the general area where he knew the shooter was hiding.

  He was grateful that no shots stymied Janis from reaching the safety and the cover of the truck. She had been a relatively easy target as she’d run away, but Sawyer had the idea that the person with the gun wanted him dead, not her.

  The next gunshots proved that point. The bullets were directed at Sawyer, whizzing by him first on the left side and then on the right.

  Sooner or later the bastard was going to get lucky and hit his mark. Sawyer rolled once again. At least he could make it more difficult by keeping on the move.

  It was possible he could roll enough to reach the tree line and there he would have some much-needed cover. He rolled again. Another shot fired. Dust kicked up so close to him he tasted it in the back of his throat, along with a healthy dose of fear.

  He was afraid to get up into a crouch and make himself a bigger target. He continued to move, slithering like a snake against the ground to get to the trees.

  The thunder of horses’ hooves sounded from the distance and jetted a wave of relief through Sawyer. At the same time a gunshot sounded again and a searing pressure ripped through the top of his shoulder. Crap, he’d been hit. Burning pain fired through him, making him feel half nauseous.

 

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