Lucky Devil

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Lucky Devil Page 9

by Patricia Rosemoor


  “Yes, sir!” Vincent tipped his hat to his new boss, though the gesture didn’t exactly look congenial.

  JoJo thought the stirrups seemed just the right length for Paula’s legs, but the other woman wasn’t satisfied until her knees were drawn up, as if she were used to an English saddle when she rode.

  A moment later, they were on their way, Lucky taking the lead. JoJo noticed his horse’s croup and hindquarters, gray decorated with black spots…and more than a few healed scars. She realized the rodeo circuit must be as tough on the animals as on the men who dared to ride them.

  Lucky took them onto a trail opposite the one passing the apple orchard. Paula was next in line, followed by Rocky, and Adair brought up the rear behind JoJo. They’d barely stretched their horses’ legs before Adair moved up next to her.

  “You’ve done some riding in your time.”

  “Mostly on farm horses.”

  With the exception of Rocky Franzone, whose bottom thump-thumped in his saddle—and he was planning on working as a wrangler?—everyone appeared pretty comfortable, especially Paula. Her posture was perfect, if not for Western riding. She was shifted forward in the saddle, back straight, thighs and knees tight against the leather.

  JoJo’s impression that Paula normally rode English, unusual for someone who lived in Arizona, heightened. Then again, Paula had unusual and expensive interests…not to mention such unusually long nails that JoJo wondered how the secretary could possibly use a computer keyboard at her job. Maybe Paula had been supported in elegance while she was married. And JoJo suspected she wasn’t the sort of woman who would give up nice nails for a job—she’d figure how to work around them.

  Turning her attention back to Adair, JoJo asked, “Were you born on a horse, or did you get into it when you decided to be a stuntman?”

  “I’ve done some riding here and there over the years,” he said vaguely.

  “So how much time did you spend in Rimrock?”

  “Rimrock?”

  “That’s the name of the ghost town according to Flora. You were the one who told Rocky about it, right?”

  “Not me.”

  “But you were doing stunts for Call of the West when the movie company was shooting there—”

  “The name just never registered, I guess,” he said, then suddenly dropped back behind her.

  Why didn’t Adair seem to want to talk about the experience? And why wouldn’t he know the town’s name?

  How peculiar.

  The country here was similar to that which she’d traversed the first time she went riding: rolling hills giving way to paths through sandstone rock. They skirted what looked like a small canyon, but they crossed one of the deep arroyos, or washes, Lucky had mentioned. At the moment, the earth that had been cut by fast-running water was bone-dry. Eventually they came to a gravel road and followed it a way, rounding a corner. The ghost town suddenly popped into view.

  “There it is!” Paula said, moving her horse out of line and taking the lead.

  Rocky and Adair followed, leaving Lucky and JoJo to bring up the rear. Lucky shortened his horse’s stride until they were riding side by side. JoJo tensed, ready for a verbal shot of some kind, and so she was surprised when she glanced at him and he seemed relaxed.

  “How about we start fresh?” Lucky asked. “It’s obvious you’re not going back to Las Vegas until you’re good and ready, so we might as well try and get along.”

  She peered at him suspiciously. The brim of his hat continued to ride low, so his eyes remained shadowed and unreadable.

  “Sounds like a reasonable suggestion,” she said, her wariness warring with her relief.

  “It’s settled, then.”

  “As long as you don’t make any more assumptions about me,” she cautioned.

  “I was merely acting on experience.”

  “Then in the future, you need to remember there are always exceptions to the rule.”

  “And you’re one of them?”

  She’d been known to go her own way, though she wasn’t militant about it. “Depends on the rule.”

  His lips curved into what she thought of as a reluctant grin. “Fair enough warning.”

  Whatever that meant…

  JoJo goosed Spitfire. As she played catch-up with the others, she was aware that Lucky took his time following. Too aware. But even with Lucky’s peace offering, she couldn’t totally relax around the man. She continually sensed his staring at her. Speculating about her. Giving her goose bumps when she least expected it.

  Goose bumps best left for a ghost town, she thought wryly.

  Rimrock consisted of a couple dozen ramshackle buildings, most with new false fronts, evidently provided by the movie company that had been shooting there.

  “Isn’t this fab?” Paula demanded, hanging on to her hat and twirling around in the middle of the dusty street. “Just like we stepped back in time.”

  JoJo dismounted, automatically checking her back pocket to make certain her wallet was secure.

  “Where a man can be a man,” she murmured with a snicker. Rocky was standing in the middle of the street, legs spread, hat pulled low, as though he were preparing for that gunfight at high noon. “I’m not certain I’d like being a woman who lived back then.”

  “Whyever not? There were tons of men for every woman. And you would probably have been a dance-hall girl, so you would have been very popular.”

  Paula didn’t get it, and JoJo wasn’t about to give her a diatribe on a woman having had disturbingly few rights in the last century. Dance-hall girl indeed. Undoubtedly, most of those poor young women were pressed into less appealing services for the men of the town.

  She tied her horse’s reins around a hitch in front of the general store as Lucky dismounted nearby.

  “Be careful,” he cautioned as the small group began to fan out. “These buildings are older than any of us. Could be rotted floorboards or beams inside. I don’t want anyone hurt.” He was looking at her when he said it. “It’d take some doing to get an ambulance out here.”

  The warning didn’t dampen anyone’s enthusiasm, though they all agreed to be careful. Adair stuck close to JoJo. And wherever she poked her nose, Lucky seemed to be in the general vicinity, as well, the feel of his steady gaze staying with her even when she left his line of sight. She didn’t understand it. She’d only known the man for a couple of days, but Lucky continually crowded her thoughts. And despite the truce, her thoughts about him weren’t all good ones, either.

  “Hey, Adair, come look at this old saloon,” Paula called.

  “I’ve got plenty to look at over here.”

  “Stop being a poop and come on!”

  Remembering Paula’s interest in the men, JoJo grinned at him. “She won’t leave you alone until you go.”

  With a sigh, Adair yelled, “I’m coming!” and set off across the rutted street.

  Finding herself alone at last, JoJo wandered into a building designated Hayward’s Stable by a freshly painted sign. The inside was dark but for the shaft of light coming from the hayloft above. The smell of fresh bales reminded her of her grandparents’ farm and terrific memories of her growing-up years. Following the scent through the gloom across the hard-packed dirt floor, JoJo approached the ladder that would take her up to the hayloft.

  She inspected several rungs. The ladder seemed perfectly safe, so she tested her way up to the base of the loft. It, too, was solid when she levered her weight on the edge before clambering across the straw-strewn surface, unquestionably a courtesy of the movie company.

  JoJo made herself comfortable on a bale near the open doors, content to watch the activity below as her companions continued to explore the old ghost town. Paula. Rocky. Adair. Their voices echoed up to her.

  Feeling more relaxed than she had since arriving at the ranch, she let her mind drift.

  And darn if it didn’t drift straight to Lucky Donatelli.

  The son of a crime boss who had disappeared just before hi
s father’s incarceration was up. Nick had once told her that he, Caroline and Lucky had been working together to turn Sally’s various interests legit. The Three Musketeers. So why hadn’t Lucky stuck around to enjoy the fruits of his efforts? Why had he left his home to wander the West? And why had he changed from the happy-go-lucky guy Nick had told her about to this distrustful, cynical man?

  Lucky was a puzzle if she’d ever met one. A puzzle she shouldn’t concern herself with figuring out.

  Sheer animal magnetism. No other explanation. She shifted uncomfortably as the kiss they’d shared came back to haunt her. The exploration. The building desire. The sheer heat of the moment.

  And the dousing with cold reality afterward when she’d realized he’d been trying to make some damn point.

  As if thinking about the man conjured him, Lucky’s voice came from behind her. “Not feeling very sociable this morning, huh?”

  Unnerved, JoJo whipped around so fast, she fell off the bale she was sitting on. A couple of stacked bales also toppled, bringing her to the floor of the loft in their midst. A heavy bale atop her, she glared up at Lucky, who found the situation amusing, if his choked laughter were any indication.

  “The least you could do is help.”

  He stooped and started to lift the weight. “Something’s stuck.” He tried reaching a hand in between her body and the bale to investigate.

  She smacked the searching fingers away before they caused trouble. “I’ll do it, thank you.” But her body tingled as if he’d actually touched her anyway.

  “You asked for help.” Lucky rocked back on his haunches and grinned at her. “I was only trying to be agreeable.”

  Sliding her hand down to her waist, JoJo found the problem. Her belt buckle was hung up on some bale wire. Fingers working frantically, she freed the metal piece.

  “Got it.”

  And couldn’t help herself. She rolled the bale off her…and onto Lucky, knocking him off his haunches.

  “Hey!”

  “Right. Hay!”

  Snorting, JoJo tried to make a quick escape, but already freeing himself, Lucky shot out a hand, caught her by the ankle and dragged her back down next to him, her fall softened by loose hay that seemed to be everywhere now.

  On the floor. In the air. In her clothes. Up her nose.

  She sneezed and started to itch.

  The itch transformed into something a bit more tormenting when Lucky slid over her, setting every nerve in JoJo’s body afire.

  “Don’t mess with a Donatelli,” he warned her. “We give as good as we get.”

  “Something in the genes?”

  Even though his back was to the light, she couldn’t miss the fleeting cheerless expression that passed over his features only to be replaced by the familiar devilish grin. Uh-oh. That meant he was up to something.

  Squirming under him, JoJo said, “I think we’d better get back to the others.”

  “No hurry.”

  Pulse surging, she pushed at his chest. Futilely. She might as well try to move a wall.

  “But they’re probably wondering where we’ve disappeared to,” she complained.

  “They’re not missing us,” he promised.

  Undoubtedly not. Still, she tried again. “I haven’t seen much of the town.”

  “Not much to see.”

  Amazed that she was unable to think of a stronger excuse, she stared up at him mutely, wondering if he were feeling the same attraction she was or if he were tormenting her because he still thought she was reporting to his father. No matter, she had no control over her own being. Her pulse began to pound faster, and her mouth went dry. Worse, there was this funny little catch in her breath that she only prayed he couldn’t hear.

  “Be truthful with yourself,” Lucky whispered, making JoJo think he was going to probe again about her reasons for being there. But he surprised her when he said, “You want me as much as I want you.”

  “I…I…”

  “Say it.”

  Unable to find her voice, JoJo wanted to deny it. She wouldn’t admit to any such thing. Not about him. She trembled. Feared that he would kiss her again. She prepared to stop him. To stop herself.

  Energy spent for naught.

  A scraping outside the barn broke the fine thread that held them fast. Footsteps below told her they weren’t alone.

  “Anyone up there?”

  “Adair!” JoJo cried, half in relief.

  She would deal with the disappointment half later. This time, when she pushed at Lucky, he moved back and surged to his feet.

  “We’re up here,” he announced, holding out his hand to JoJo.

  She accepted his offer. His hand gripping hers was more stirring than she might have imagined. Heat sizzled up her arm. His look was equally hot before he let go. But she was nearly recovered by the time Adair’s blond head popped over the edge of the loft.

  At least she was recovered enough to say, “The view’s pretty good from up here.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  JoJo realized Adair was staring at the imprints in the straw, at the bits clinging to them, and he was obviously filling in the blanks. JoJo beat fiercely at her clothing to rid herself of the evidence of her foolishness.

  “Everyone had enough?” Lucky asked.

  “I don’t know. Have they?” Adair returned, tone amused as the men locked gazes for a moment.

  Not liking the male-bonding thing going on here, JoJo muttered, “I have,” and stomped to the ladder.

  She practically slid down the thing in her hurry to put some distance between her and the situation that could so easily have gotten out of hand. How did this keep happening to her? How could she fall under the spell of a man who was arrogant, antagonistic and very probably dangerous.

  Escaping the stable, she took a big, relieved breath to be out of his sphere of influence.

  Across the street, Paula and Rocky were huddled together in the shelter of a building. They were conversing in low tones, looking pretty intent, until they noticed her. Paula didn’t seem all that happy to be interrupted, but she put on one of her cheery smiles and waved JoJo over. Reluctantly, JoJo joined them, figuring the other woman must have been checking Rocky out.

  “Lucky was saying something about getting back,” JoJo told them.

  “Okay by me,” Rocky said.

  Paula agreed. “I’ve had enough exploring for one day.”

  Seconds later, Lucky and Adair exited the stable. Both men seemed to be in good humor, JoJo noticed resentfully.

  “Let’s round ’em up!” Lucky said.

  That Lucky paid her no more mind than the others smarted. Confused by his wavering attitude toward her, JoJo would be glad to head back to the ranch.

  A few minutes later, they were on their way. Good timing, it seemed, for the sun was playing hide-and-seek with a couple of clouds rolling in over the area.

  The male-bonding thing obviously still in progress, Lucky and Adair took the lead. Paula rode a comfortable distance behind them, with Rocky trying to keep up. Though Adair looked her way several times, seeming intent on hanging back to talk to JoJo, Lucky seemed equally determined to have his company. JoJo let the distance between her and the leaders grow. Eventually, Rocky dropped back, too, and rode with her. His bottom was thumping even more furiously against the saddle than it had on the way out. Some cowboy.

  “So did Rimrock meet your expectations?” JoJo asked to be friendly.

  “Sort of. I thought it’d be bigger, though.”

  “Towns out here were pretty small before the turn of the century. I read an article about some of them being only a handful of buildings—just the basics for prospectors to get supplies and such.”

  “I guess I’ve seen too many old Westerns.”

  “Movies do tend to glamorize things,” she agreed.

  Again, she thought it was strange that Rimrock had seemed as new to Adair as to the rest of them. Her gaze shifted ahead to the stuntman, still in the lead with Lucky. He was s
till glancing back at her every so often, as if he were keeping an eye on her. Maybe Adair hadn’t been in the scenes shot at the old ghost town. If that had been the case, why hadn’t he just said so?

  JoJo crossed the dry wash, then suddenly realized Rocky wasn’t beside her. She glanced over her shoulder. He’d fallen back even farther. He was six feet below, at the bottom of the arroyo and staring balefully at the climb up to the bank where she waited.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, just hungry.”

  And sore, though he obviously didn’t want to admit it. “We’ll be back at the ranch soon,” she assured him. “Just lean forward so your weight’s over Apache’s neck. Then give him his head.”

  “I know that,” Rocky insisted. “I was just giving him a breather.”

  Thinking the man had to keep his macho image, JoJo didn’t say anything. She kept Spitfire in check, waiting for Apache to get up the side of the arroyo despite the bobbling weight of his rider. No doubt Rocky’s sense of direction was as finely honed as his riding skills. If he got too far behind, he might get himself lost.

  JoJo turned Spitfire and moved her out slowly enough so that the other horse could catch up.

  They rode in silence for a while, before Rocky said, “You got straw in your hair.”

  She brushed the curls below her hat. “Did I get it all out?”

  “Yeah, but there’s more all down your back.”

  As flustered as if she’d been caught with Lucky, she grabbed the bottom of her vest and fluttered it, hoping to free the straw bits. Her hand brushed her backside, and she checked there, as well. Nothing.

  She rode for a while before it hit her.

  Nothing. Really nothing.

  Her hand returned to her back pocket.

  Flat!

  “My wallet—it’s gone!” And with a certainty, JoJo knew just where she’d lost it. Darn Lucky Donatelli anyway. “I’ve got to go back.”

  “To Rimrock?”

  “I had my wallet when we got there. I don’t care about the money, but my driver’s license and credit cards…” Some kid had stolen her purse in New York once. Replacing everything had been a major pain, and one of her credit-card bills that kept bouncing from the old number to the new had been a nightmare that had taken months to get straightened out. “It must have dropped out of my pocket in the loft over the stable. Uh, that’s where I picked up the hay. Tell the others where I am so no one thinks I got lost.”

 

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