The stranger was several inches shorter than Jackson, but with his stout build, long blond hair and crystal-blue eyes, he resembled an ancient Viking warrior—at least he would if not for his Western hat and clothing. He turned in her direction and his brows lifted as she moved into the room, keeping the table between them. Mariah felt a flicker of familiarity and sorted through her mental files but still couldn’t place him.
His lips turned up in a welcoming grin. “Well, now, this is a surprise. I never expected to encounter a lovely female at ol’ J.D.’s house. Thought maybe he was allergic to them. Hola, señorita.” The man tipped his Western hat as Deuce chuckled.
She stared back and gave a curt nod, choosing to ignore his ethnic greeting. Mariah gripped the top of the chair in front of her and considered his reaction to her being at the ranch. Why would a handsome, robust man like J.D. not want women around? Had that pain of losing his wife been so much that he’d sworn off women?
“Females are girls, and I’m a girl, Lance.” Hailey dropped her peeled potato into a bowl of water, sloshing it all over the counter. “Daddy’s not ’lergic to me. What’s ’lergic, anyway?”
“Nothin’, munchkin,” Deuce said. “Go find your pa and tell him Lance is here to see ’im. I’ll finish the spuds.” He passed the girl a towel to dry her hands.
Hailey swiped her palms, tossed the towel on the counter and ran through the mudroom and out the door, obviously happy to be free of kitchen duty.
“I’m Lance Jordan, J.D.’s nearest neighbor and an old friend. I own the ranch just down the road a ways.” He stuck out his tanned, calloused hand.
She leaned closer, glad for the table that separated them, and shook it. “Mariah Reyes.” That tiny flicker of remembrance sparked again, and this time, it flamed to life. Of course. Lance Jordan. He was on the Tornado team the same time Jackson was. In fact, he stayed on the team until an accident early this season sidelined him.
He winked at her, and Mariah removed her hand. Some females might be attracted to his cocky attitude, but she much preferred a kind, humble man. One thing was certain: Lance’s megawatt smile would make most single women do a double take.
“So, what brings you to our neck of the woods? J.D. didn’t mention that a pretty gal was due to pay him a visit, but then, I can see why he’d like to keep that news a secret.” He wagged his pale brows and smirked. “Doesn’t care much for competition now that he’s retired from football.”
She shrugged and was tempted to return to her room, but then a thought blossomed. A friend of Jackson’s might be an excellent source of information. She smiled. “I’m here to do a story for the Dallas Observer’s Where Are They Now? column.”
Whistling through his teeth, Lance glanced at Deuce. The old man grinned and lifted one shoulder as he cut up the potatoes. “I don’t believe this.” Lance leaned against the counter and shifted his gaze back to her. “J.D.’s always so private. He hates publicity. How’d you ever talk him into it?”
Before she could tell him the interview had been arranged by her boss, Deuce piped up, “She didn’t. Evan cooked up the whole thing and somehow got Jackson to go along with it. Somethin’ about Angelfire needin’ publicity.” The old man dumped the potato cubes into a pot of boiling water and surveyed his chicken.
Lance’s baffled expression must have mirrored her own. Mariah wondered how J. D. Durant, famous football personality and former media hound, had turned into a recluse who passionately guarded his privacy better than a quarterback protected a football. She figured it had something to do with his daughter.
Lance shook his head. “I can’t believe J.D. let his geeky brother talk him into having a reporter do a story on him. Especially a female reporter—and with everything that’s been happening around here.”
Mariah stiffened. In the newspaper field, she constantly battled prejudiced male attitudes, but she wasn’t about to retreat. Then she realized what else he’d said. “What’s been happening?”
Deuce let out a strange cackle, ignoring her question. “Well, now, that there’s the funny part. Evan forgot to mention that fact. Seems our boy never once considered the reporter might be female, and by the time he found out the truth, she was already stuck here—at least until her car’s fixed. That mangled heap you asked about is hers.”
Lance’s dazed expression lasted only a moment. His gaze sparked, and he bent over hooting with laughter. He smacked his thigh three times, and then he rubbed his hand over his moist eyes. “That’s great!”
“What’s great?” Jackson walked through the mudroom and into the kitchen, glancing around, obviously wondering what he’d missed.
Lance instantly sobered. “Uh...nothing. Just something funny Deuce said.”
When Jackson’s blue gaze turned her way, Mariah blew out a frustrated breath, knowing her question wouldn’t be answered now that Jackson had returned. Something seemed to be going on here at Angelfire, besides ranching—and she had to find out what. Maybe her story would take a turn she hadn’t expected.
* * *
Jackson pursed his lips. He’d hoped to keep his visitor’s presence a secret until he could send her on her way. No chance of that now that Lance had seen her. “I guess you all have met.”
Lance grinned. “’Bout time you came out of hiding. I’m gonna have to get this pretty gal alone and tell her all your secrets.”
Jackson’s stomach churned. Was Lance teasing? Sometimes he was hard to read. His friend loved being the center of attention and broadcasting any news he was privileged to. With Lance around, the small town of Westin hardly needed a weekly newspaper. Jackson sighed. He’d have to do what he could to keep Lance and Ms. Reyes apart. “So, what brings you here this time of day, Lance?”
“Thought you’d want to know your horses got out.”
“Horses?” He’d put Sabrina back in her stall and had left Hailey down there talking to the filly while he came up to the house to fetch some salve to put on a scrape on the horse’s leg.
“Mmm-huh,” Lance said, without taking his eyes off the reporter.
Jackson could smell trouble brewing. With Ms. Reyes here for close to a week, it would be nigh impossible to keep Lance away from her. He walked to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water to quench his mega thirst. Watching him, Mariah licked her lips, and he realized he wasn’t being much of a host. He held the chilled bottle out to her, pleased when her eyes sparked with surprise. She gave him an impish grin then walked over and took the container. He didn’t bother offering one to Lance. He’d help himself if he was thirsty. And by the way Lance stared at Ms. Reyes, Jackson guessed he wasn’t thirsty but hungry—woman hungry.
He cleared his throat, drawing Lance’s gaze. “I just caught that filly. She got loose and ran down the drive earlier. Found her munching grass on County Line Road.” Jackson took a swig of water to avoid mentioning how the filly had gotten loose. Mariah glanced at him, offering a diminutive smile, probably thanking him for not embarrassing her with the truth.
“So what happened to that Mustang out there? That tree up and ambush it?” Lance chuckled, helping himself to a piece of lettuce lying on the counter.
A red-wine color stained Mariah’s cheeks as she sipped her water with the grace of royalty. Her gaze locked with Jackson’s for a moment, and then she quietly studied the floor tiles.
“Well, we, uh—had a little accident. The filly got spooked and ran in front of Ms. Reyes’s car, and she had to swerve to miss her.”
Mariah’s tense expression relaxed. Jackson sucked in a deep breath as a surge of chivalry warmed his chest.
“Guess you’re stuck here for a while,” Lance said. “Especially since Tim Denton’s out of town until Saturday, and he’s closed on the weekends. But, hey, just let me know if you need a ride somewhere.”
Great! Jackson lobbed the empty water bottle in th
e recycle tub that sat to the left of the fridge. Leave it to Lance to spill the beans.
Mariah’s questioning gaze touched his face. “Who’s Tim Denton?” she asked, twisting her bottle in her hands.
“He’s the only guy in these parts that works on cars.” An ornery smile tilted Lance’s mouth. “So it looks like you’re going to have to make yourself at home here for a while—unless, of course, you’d rather have some classy company and want to come stay with me.” Lance pulled a toothpick from his shirt pocket and stuck it in his mouth.
Jackson didn’t miss the victorious expression that flashed across Ms. Reyes’s face for a brief moment. Was it because she thought she’d get to stay long enough to get her story? Or because she was interested in Lance’s offer? Jackson winced. He would prefer to have her out from under his boot heels, but there was no way he’d allow Lance to take her home. He might not want her staying at Angelfire, but he sure wouldn’t throw her into the wolf’s den.
“She’ll be fine here. Hailey’s taken a likin’ to her.” He forced the words out, finally accepting that Mariah Reyes would be around for the time being.
Surprise flickered in her dark eyes again, and then a pleasant smile graced her lips. Jackson stared out the window, not caring for the way his insides reacted to her.
Deuce pulled some dishes out of the cabinet and clunked them down on the counter. “You stayin’ for supper?” he asked Lance.
“Nah. I’d like to, but I’ve got a date. Just came down to let J.D. know about his horses getting loose. Looks like they broke through that section of fence down by the creek.”
Jackson blinked. Horses? As in plural? “You mean more than one got loose? I thought you were talking about Sabrina, the filly that got spooked.”
Lance straightened from leaning against the counter. “I wondered why you didn’t seem too worried. Yeah, there was six or seven of ’em across the road, grazing near old lady Murphy’s garden. If they get in her flower bed, you’ll never hear the end of it, even if everything is dead now.”
Jackson yanked his hat off and smacked it against his leg. He didn’t need another problem. This was the third time in two weeks his horses had gotten out—and they’d never broken out before. Something didn’t sit right. He was beginning to think someone had it in for him. This week he’d discovered that one of his stock tanks had been used for target practice, and last week, several head of cattle had gone missing and hadn’t been found yet.
He curled the brim of his hat with his hands. Were the incidents the work of bored teenagers? Or was someone deliberately doing damage to his ranch?
But why would anyone do that? He had no enemies—at least none that he knew of.
Slapping his hat back on, he looked at Lance. “You got time to help me round up those strays?”
“Thought you’d never ask. Just need to hurry.” Lance grinned. “Can’t be late for my date, you know.”
“Let’s do it, then, and maybe I can get back in time to eat my dinner while it’s still warm.”
Mariah walked toward him with a concerned look in her eyes. “Is there...uh...anything I can do?”
He shook his head. Just what he needed—for this citified greenhorn to get injured again. He would probably have to pay to get her car repaired, not to mention possibly being hit with a hefty lawsuit. “Stay put.”
Mariah flinched at the tone of his voice and looked at the floor. Jackson winced. Maybe she really did want to help and not just get a story. He could at least protect her without being a bully. “Maybe you could keep Hailey busy so she doesn’t run outside when we herd the horses up the drive.”
She nodded. A smile brightened her face, and Jackson got a peek at how pretty Mariah Reyes really was. Straight black hair framed her face with feminine grace. Onyx eyes danced and her white teeth stood out against her chestnut skin.
He shook his head. Don’t even go there, Durant. This woman is trouble wrapped up in a pretty package.
“You said Hailey was still outside?” Mariah asked.
“She’s in the barn, talking to Sabrina.”
Mariah nodded, looking eager to leave the male-dominated room. “I’ll walk out and let her know supper is about ready.”
As Jackson opened the door for her, a high-pitched scream jerked his head toward the barn. Hailey!
* * *
Jackson raced to the barn. His daughter was tough, not one given to hysterics, but that scream had been frantic. Baron’s frenzied barking added to his concern. His gut forced him to skid to a halt just inside the barn door to survey the situation. As his eyes rapidly searched the dimmer interior, he found his daughter clinging to the hayloft ladder, several rungs off the ground. Footsteps pounded behind him, and a quick glance told him Lance, Deuce and the reporter had followed him. “Baron! Quiet.” The dog trotted to his side, looked up and whined.
“Daddy!”
Relief swarmed him at the sound of his daughter’s voice. He started toward her. The horses in the stalls closest to him snorted and pranced in their small enclosures, sending a shiver of warning down his spine. He scanned the back of the barn, searching for the problem. With all that had been going on lately, he couldn’t afford to drop his guard—but that was just what had happened since that reporter had distracted him. He started toward Hailey. “What’s wrong, precious?”
“No! Stop! There’s a snake.” She pointed to her left, waving her hand up and down.
Jackson blew out a pent-up breath, the tension rolling off him. “Since when have you been afraid of—” The eerie clatter of a rattlesnake’s tail yanked his attention to the gate of the nearest stall. Lightning whinnied and reared, his hooves pounding hard against the gate. The snake swiveled its head toward the horse and away from Jackson’s daughter.
“A diamondback? Where in the world did that come from?” Lance moved up on Jackson’s right.
“Stay on the ladder, Hailey. Do not come down until I say so.”
She nodded and looped her arm around a rung.
“I’ll get a shovel.” Lance started toward the far wall, but after he passed by, Jackson moved to the left side of the barn door and reached up on a high shelf. He pulled down a pistol he’d kept there for an emergency—like this one. He moved several feet closer then aimed and fired. The snake lurched then settled in death.
He put the safety on the gun and rushed to his daughter, scooping her into his arms. What if the snake had bitten her before she’d noticed it? Thank You, Lord, for protecting her.
“Where did that thing come from?” Ms. Reyes asked. “I didn’t think rattlesnakes were common this far north, and they aren’t usually active this late in the year.”
Jackson shook his head and hugged Hailey. “I don’t know. It’s the first I’ve seen on the ranch. Most of the snakes we have here are harmless, except for water moccasins.” He shuddered, again thinking what might have happened.
Lance trotted over with his shovel. “I didn’t know you kept a gun out here.”
Hailey wiggled, and Jackson set her down. “Good thing I do.”
Hailey walked closer to the dead snake and stared at it. “I’ve never seen a snake so big. That rattle thing on its tail is cool.”
Lance stepped between the child and the snake. “Don’t get too close, short stuff. That snake still has deadly venom in its fangs.” He looked over his shoulder at Jackson. “I’ll bury it if you want to get her up to the house.”
“I can take her—since you still need to catch those horses.” Mariah gazed at Jackson with her eyebrows lifted.
“My chicken!” Deuce spun around and took off running like a calf let out of a rodeo chute.
Lance chuckled.
Jackson nodded. “Hailey, go on back to the house with Ms. Reyes.”
“But I was giving Sabrina some hay.”
�
�Go on. I’ll finish up.”
“Okay.” She jogged over to their guest and took her hand. “Wanna see my princess dolls?”
“Uh, sure.” Ms. Reyes allowed herself to be dragged across the clearing to the house.
Lance sidled up to him. “That reporter sure took me by surprise. Pretty thang, isn’t she?”
Jackson glanced sideways. “She’s off-limits, and she’s leaving the minute her car is fixed.”
“Whoa, cowboy.” Lance held up a hand.
“I need to catch my horses. Go ahead and take care of that snake. Bury it deep so Baron won’t dig it up—or better yet, burn it somewhere and then come and help me herd the horses home.”
Lance nodded and scooped the snake onto the shovel. Jackson headed into the room where he stored his motorcycle, both thankful for how God had protected Hailey from the snake and irritated somewhat at Lance. His friend always saw a pretty woman as a challenge to conquer. He hoped Lance didn’t give the reporter trouble—or tell any of the many secrets he knew about Jackson’s former life. A life he’d just as soon forget.
He opened the side door to the garage, hopped on his motorcycle and shoved on his helmet, then started the bike. The loud sound of the powerful engine revving up mirrored his mood. He steered the bike outside and down the drive.
Where had that snake come from? Jackson had no doubt someone had planted it in his barn. But why? He shuddered to think Hailey had been out there all alone. What if she’d gone to visit Lightning after feeding Sabrina? What if the filly had heard the snake and spooked when Hailey was in her stall? She could have been badly injured, at the least. A cold chill settled in his chest. Someone was out to get him—and didn’t care if they hurt his daughter in the process.
He looked around for signs of someone watching him as he pulled onto the main road but saw no one. It was clear now that teens couldn’t be the source of his problems. Someone wanted to hurt him, and he had no idea who it was or why. The picture of his daughter on that ladder just a few yards from a deadly snake made his gut swirl. He’d have to keep a better watch on Hailey—and the reporter—until things settled down. But when would that be?
Rancher Under Fire Page 4