“You sure do have a big heart, Jessa.” Luis pulled himself out of her truck, and did she imagine it or was he wincing more than normal?
Before she could make a full assessment, Hank waved from the front porch.
“Jessa. Thank God you’re here,” he called, teetering down the steps while he clutched the rail. The rim of white hair on his head had been neatly trimmed, and the bald spot on top shone in the sun. “Butch is terrified up there. I can hear him meowing.”
Luis snorted and Jessa shoved a gentle elbow into his ribs. “Be nice,” she whispered. “At least you have Lance and Naomi and Gracie around.”
A small smile fumbled on his lips. “And you,” he said. Which made her smile. Though she missed her father with heart-aching sorrow, having Luis sure helped.
Hank lumbered down the walkway toward them.
Ah, geez. He’d put on his dress slacks, with a sweater vest and bow tie. If only she could convince him dressing up for her wasn’t worth the effort.
“What’re you doing here, Cortez?” he asked, as though perturbed that he had some competition.
“Luis is helping at the shelter today,” Jessa answered for him. The less these two gentlemen talked, the better off everyone would be. Way back in a previous life, Hank had accused Levi, the youngest Cortez, of shoplifting from his store. Levi, of course, always claimed innocence, and when Luis went down there to straighten things out, it had ended in a brawl that had the town sheriff locking up both men overnight.
Hank still eyed Luis warily. “I’ve told you, Jessa. I can help you at the shelter.” He shifted his body as if to block out Luis and focus solely on her. “I have nothing but time on my hands, and as you know, I am an animal lover.”
“Lover,” Luis scoffed under his breath. Jessa did have to admit that Hank somehow made that word sound rather dirty.
Instead of indulging Hank’s offer with an acknowledgment, she brushed past him and continued up the walkway toward the house. “So where is poor Butch?” she asked.
“He’s out back. About halfway up that blue spruce.” Hank hustled to her side, leaving Luis to walk behind them. “I don’t even know how he got out…”
Once again, Luis snorted.
Jessa shot him a look over her shoulder. Hopefully it said, Let’s not make this more painful that it has to be. Though she had a hard time choking back a laugh. “How high up?” she asked in a businesslike tone. If she could keep them on track, this wouldn’t have to take long and she wouldn’t risk the two of them getting into another brawl.
“Oh, I don’t know…” The man led the way around the side of the house on an intricate stone path that weaved through his prize-winning rose garden. “Maybe twenty feet up.”
“Twenty feet?” Was the man trying to kill her? “You could’ve called the fire department,” she reminded him. That was the sort of thing the small-town Topaz Falls Fire and Rescue was famous for. Rescuing kitties, helping little old ladies cross the street, putting out one hell of a scorching calendar every year…
“I did call.” Hank escorted her past the large white gazebo in the backyard. It was gorgeous. Flawless and lavish, adorned with hanging baskets of every kind of flower. God, maybe she should just give in and marry the man. He had the best yard in all of Topaz Falls.
“The fire department refused to come.”
Yeah, and she was Dolly Parton. The thought brought on a serious cringe. Hank probably wished she were Dolly Parton…
This time Luis coughed behind her, but at least he was keeping his mouth shut. She gave him a surreptitious grin before glancing up into the blue spruce that towered over a white picket fence on the back perimeter of the property.
At least twenty feet above the ground, the cat crouched on a wide pluming branch, its face obscured by the pine needles.
Oh, wow. Yeah. That cat was stuck. “Have you tried calling to him? Luring him down with treats?” she asked, shading her eyes from the overpowering sun.
“Of course,” Hank assured her emphatically. “I’ve tried everything. I’m so distressed by the whole thing. Butch hates heights.”
Again, Jessa called his bluff. Butch did, indeed, look terrified. But there was no way he’d climbed up there by himself. Cassidy was right. Hank had probably hauled over the ladder and stowed the cat up there as a ploy to get her to come over.
“Maybe he’ll come down when he sees your beautiful face,” Hank murmured, leaning too close for comfort. The smell of Pepto-Bismol wafted around her, stealing the sweet scent of roses from the air.
With a quick sidestep she escaped the assault, drawing closer to Luis.
“The thing is, I can’t keep climbing up your tree to get your cat down, Hank.” This was the fifth time in less than two months. But this was also the highest she’d ever found Butch.
“I understand,” he said through a martyred sigh. “Don’t worry. I won’t ask for your help anymore.”
“There really is a God,” Luis muttered, though not nearly soft enough.
Hank whirled. “What the hell does that mean, Cortez? Do you have a problem with me?”
“I think it was you who had a problem with me,” Luis shot back.
Jessa stepped between them. “Luis, can you please go get Hank’s ladder out of the garage?” she asked in her sweetest-daughter-in-the-world voice. Her father had never been able to resist it, and it appeared Luis couldn’t either. He turned away, mumbling some very colorful names for Hank, and hoofed it to the path around the side of the house.
Whew. Crisis averted. Lance would kill her if he knew she’d let his father get into it with Hank Green.
Lance. Right on cue, her stomach dropped and her heart twirled and the warmth of the sun seemed to slip inside her skin.
“So what’s the plan?” Hank’s low and gritty tone snuffed out the sudden fire burning hot and low in her belly. Well, there it was. Her remedy for shamelessly swooning over Lance. She didn’t have to worry about that when Hank was nearby. “Um.” She pushed her bangs off her forehead and gazed up again.
Butch was still perched in place, frozen into a fluffy cat statue. She moved closer to the tree. “Here kitty. Come on, Butch, baby. Come down now.”
The cat crouched lower and mewed. There was no way in hell he was coming down on his own. Which meant she would have to go up and get him. “We need the ladder.” Luis must’ve found it by now, but he was probably taking his time so he could cool off.
Hank slipped in front of her, gazing down on her with an affectionate look that deepened the creases in the corners of his beady gray eyes. “Jessa…while we wait, I want to thank you. For coming. You’re always there for me when I need something.”
“Technically I’m always there for Butch—”
Hank didn’t seem to hear. “I hope you’ll let me take you out to dinner this time. Only to thank you, of course,” he said quickly. “Someplace nice. Maybe the Broker?”
“The Broker?” She almost laughed. “But that’s in Denver.”
“Exactly. We could make it a weekend trip…” Mr. Green rubbed his hand on her shoulder.
She swatted at it like she would a pestering fly. “I’m sorry. That’s not going to happen. Ever.” And the touching her shoulder thing…that had to stop, too.
“Ever?” he repeated, as though mortally wounded.
A sigh lodged in her throat. The poor man. He wasn’t so bad. Hell, at least he had good taste. And at least he didn’t look at her like she was some pathetic groupie. “I’m not in a good place for anything like that right now,” she said gently.
His lips pursed while his head bobbed in a brave nod. “I understand. I can wait.”
Never. She’d told him never. Ain’t no way he could wait that long…
“Mew.” The cat’s soft call commanded her attention. Jessa stood on her tiptoes and tried to see through the pine needles.
“Mew.” Butch inched forward on the branch as though ready to jump down to the next one.
“That’s it!
” Jessa scrambled up the first couple of branches until she was about five feet off the ground. “Come on, Butchie. Come here.” She pulled herself up higher. Somewhere beneath her something cracked.
“Here. I’ll give you a boost,” Hank offered, raising his hands and cupping them against her ass.
“No thanks,” she squawked, darting up to the next branch. The tree was thick and sturdy, shaking only slightly while she climbed higher. After pulling herself up a few more branches, she had to stop. The branches were getting thinner and there was no way they’d support her weight. Butch had climbed down a ways, but he was still a few feet above her. “Here, kitty,” she crooned softly. “Come on, now. I’m right here. Jump down and I’ll catch you.”
The cat crept closer to the edge of the branch, head low, wide, terrified eyes focused on Jessa.
“Okay. It’s okay.” Hooking one arm around the trunk, she shimmied up one more branch and reached until her fingertips tingled. “There.” She grabbed the skin at the back of Butch’s neck. The cat hissed and squirmed but she secured him against her chest, gasping and sweating. Carefully, she picked her way back down the tree and dropped to the ground. Heaving from the effort, she handed Butch over to Hank. “Don’t let the cat get out again. I can’t keep doing this.”
The man’s chin tipped up defiantly. “If you’d agree to dinner, I wouldn’t have to keep calling.”
Shaking her head, she turned away from him and started toward the path. What could be taking Luis so long?
“Maybe you’d rather have breakfast?” Hank persisted, coming alongside of her.
Wordlessly, she shook her head.
“Coffee?” he tried.
She stopped walking and faced him. “Sorry. It’s not going to work out.” This time she patted his shoulder in an effort to ease the dejected look he gave her. “What about Helen Garcia?” she asked. Helen had been the librarian since the turn of the century. “She’s so smart. And … organized.” That was about where the list of her attributes stopped.
“Jessa, I know there’s a slight age difference, but—”
“Slight?” she interrupted.
“I think you’re the loveliest woman in the world,” he finished a little desperately.
Okay, so sweet and subtle was not going to work with Hank. She had to give it to him straight. She started walking along the path so she wouldn’t have to look into his eyes. “I appreciate that. Really. But it’s not going to happen. I don’t look at you like that, and—” When they came around the corner of the house she stopped cold.
The ladder lay in the center of the yard, crushing Hank’s perfect green grass.
“My grass,” he gasped, stalking toward the ladder.
Worry filled her stomach like a cold hard stone. “Where’s Luis?” she choked out. The ladder looked like it had been dropped, but he wasn’t there.
“I don’t know, but this’ll ruin my grass.” Hank struggled to drag the ladder to the driveway while she scanned the empty street.
Luis wasn’t there. He was gone.
Somehow, Jessa faltered to the garage, her eyes searching. It was empty. “Where could he be?” she blurted, frantically looking around.
“Knowing Cortez, he’s in the house going through my things,” Hank replied tightly. He marched to the garage door and threw it open. “That family is all the same. Thieves, the lot of them.”
She reprimanded him with a glare. “None of them are thieves,” she said sternly. “But maybe he went in for a drink. Or maybe he had to use the bathroom.” Of course that was it. He had to be in the house. Jessa gulped a breath to steady her heart. He hadn’t disappeared, for God’s sake. She followed Hank inside, inhaling the musty scent of an old closed-in house, searching room by room, not really seeing anything but somehow finding her way. He wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room or the dining room or the main floor bathroom. She bolted up the rickety staircase. “Luis?” she screeched, throwing open the upstairs bedroom doors. The house sat in a heavy silence. She broke it again with another shout, half stumbling back down the steps.
Hank met her by the front door. “He’s probably gone into town for pie and coffee,” he said, his nose scrunched with distaste. “You can’t count on the Cortez family for anything except trouble.”
“No,” Jessa wheezed. Not Luis. He wouldn’t leave her when she needed his help. He wouldn’t have left the ladder lying in the middle of the front yard. “Oh God.” Sidestepping Hank, she broke through the front door and sprinted down the driveway to the sidewalk. Trying to breathe, she looked up and down the deserted street. “Luis?” she yelled.
Nothing. No response. Hands shaking, she dug her keys out of her pocket and flew to her truck.
“Sorry, Hank!” she yelled, fumbling to unlock the doors. “Please call me right away if Luis comes back!” Before he could respond, she thrust herself into the driver’s seat and gunned the engine until the truck shot away from the curb.
Chapter Twelve
One more fall like that and he’d be seein’ stars. Lance hoisted himself off the ground. Not gonna lie, it was getting harder to get up. That was the third time in an hour Ball Buster had thrown him. Good thing Tucker was a regular master at corralling the mean son of a bitch so he hadn’t trampled him.
Shit. He hunched, trying to even out his breathing, which was a hell of a lot harder than it sounded with the laceration and bone bruise sending flames up his rib cage.
“Hey, you okay, man?” Tucker jogged over to where Lance limped near the fence. “You’re lookin’ tense out there.”
Tense. That was one way to put it. “I’m fine,” he lied, guarding his right side. Damn bone bruise. Sure wasn’t making his training any easier. Every time that pain zinged through him, he also thought back to when Jessa had touched him there. When she’d run her hands over his skin, her fingers light and gentle. That only led to another problem that pretty much made it impossible for him to ride in comfort.
“Maybe you ought to call it a day,” Tucker suggested, handing him his water bottle.
Lance removed his hat and took a good long swig. He couldn’t call it a day. Not until he’d gotten the better of Ball Buster. There was no way he’d be able to compete at Worlds if he couldn’t even stay on that damn bull for more than three fucking seconds.
He shoved the water bottle back into Tucker’s hands. “Here. I’m going again. Let’s get him ready.”
The man shook his head like he wasn’t sure if he should pity Lance or argue. But he knew the sport. He knew what it took.
Lance climbed the fence and jumped down on the other side. He removed his gloves to check the tape on his hands. It was already frayed and torn. He’d have to rewrap—
“Lance!”
Naomi raced around the edge of the corral.
Damn. She had that look of drama about her.
“I just got a call from Ginny Eckles,” she yelled as he walked to meet her. “It’s your dad. She found him in front of the bakery, and something’s wrong.”
The pain in his ribs intensified with the hitch in his breathing. “What do you mean something’s wrong?”
Naomi was wheezing like she’d sprinted all the way from her house. “She said she tried asking him some questions but he wouldn’t answer. He wasn’t acting like himself.”
Oh for chrisssake. “Where the hell is Jessa?” he demanded, as if Naomi were her keeper.
“I don’t know,” she shot back with just as much attitude. “I asked Mrs. Eckles if he was alone and she said he was. She said Luis didn’t seem to remember where he was supposed to be.”
“Of course he remembers,” Lance grumbled, already unbuckling his chaps. His dad wouldn’t forget where he was supposed to be. He was probably just being ornery. Which Jessa could’ve prevented had she kept an eye on him like she was supposed to.
Naomi stooped to help him get the chaps off. Always the mother. “She thinks someone should pick him up. I’d go but I have to pick up Gracie at a friend’s hous
e on the other side of town in five minutes.”
“I’ll get him,” Lance said, kicking off the leather gear. “Tucker, go ahead and get Ball Buster settled in the stables,” he called to his friend. Looked like he was done training for the day after all.
The man tipped his hat and approached the bull while Lance followed Naomi down to the driveway.
“I tried to call Jessa’s cell a few times, but she didn’t answer,” Naomi informed him, almost like she didn’t want to get her friend in trouble.
His face steamed. “Don’t worry about it.” Not like he could blame all of this on Jessa. Knowing his father, he’d probably lost her on purpose.
“Maybe she’s really upset,” Naomi said. “About your talk this morning.”
“She didn’t seem upset.” The memory of her coy smile tugged at his gut. She seemed fine. Confident. Strong. Like a woman who could hold her own. “You’re wrong about her, you know,” he told Naomi. “She’s stronger than you give her credit for.” Strong and sexy. Enticing with that body of hers. Not that he wanted to get slapped…
“Don’t you get any ideas,” Naomi warned. “I don’t know who that woman at breakfast was, but it wasn’t Jessa. It was an act. And I don’t blame her. You practically humiliated her.”
“On your advice,” he reminded her.
They parted ways, but before Naomi climbed into her car, she shot him a glare. “You just keep your distance. Take my word for it.” Before he could answer that he was done taking her word for anything, she disappeared into her car and peeled out.
Shaking his head, Lance climbed into his truck and drove down to the highway. As far as he could tell, Jessa was a big girl and could take care of herself. He might not go out of his way to pursue her, but if something clicked between them one night, he’d let it happen. Not that he’d be dreaming about that moment. Not dreaming…fantasizing. About those slender fingers grazing his skin again, about the sexy dip in the curve of her upper lip. About the delicate weight of her body against his, all soft curves and creamy flesh…
Luckiest Cowboy of All--Two full books for the price of one Page 40