by Jane Jamison
She allowed herself another moment to mourn for Marty’s loss, then, putting her foot on the bumper of the truck, she lifted herself up and looked to see what was in the back. A couple of tarps were folded and tucked into the corner.
“Amy, what’ve you got in mind?”
“We’re going to hitch a ride.”
Jesse peeked over the side of the pickup. “We don’t know where he’s headed.”
“It doesn’t matter as long as it gets us away from here.”
“I don’t know.”
“We can’t go back to my place or yours.” Did he still have an apartment? He could’ve been sleeping in his car for all she knew. “And they know my car. But, hey, I’m open to suggestions if you’ve got one.”
“Okay, don’t get bitchy. What if the truck’s owner doesn’t want to give us a ride?”
She pulled up then slung her leg over the edge. “He will.”
Jesse followed her into the back of the pickup and took the tarp she handed him. “How do you know? What if he says no?”
“He won’t.”
“But how do you know?”
“Because we’re not going to ask him.”
* * * *
Jarrod’s foul mood continued for the rest of the rodeo. Although they’d done well in the team roping event, losing the bull riding event still ate at him.
“You can’t win them all.”
Jarrod led his horse toward his rig. “Mitch, if you’re going to say bullshit crap like that, then head on off. I’ll catch you later.”
Mitch had a ranch butting up to Jarrod’s spread a few miles outside the small town of Garner, Texas. They sometimes combined land and resources, especially when times were rough. They counted on their rodeo winnings to help them through the lean times and to pay the entry fees for the next rodeo.
“Are you two still going to Albuquerque next month?” The rodeo wasn’t a large one, but it wasn’t a long trip from his ranch into New Mexico. Any time they could add more money to their winnings, it was worth a trip.
Did Mitch think he’d give up so fast? One lousy event wouldn’t get him down. At least, not forever. “Yeah, we’ll be there.”
“Are you going for two events?”
If anyone was watching them, they would’ve thought they were just two cowboys shooting the breeze, winding down after a hard day. Their walk was their usual easy saunter, their eyes shaded by their hats, and their buckles flashing in the sunlight. No one could’ve known how annoyed Jarrod was at himself.
“Yeah. Same two.”
It was one thing to earn enough money during the year to make it as one of the top fifteen money-earning cowboys and go to the finals. But if he made it there doing enough events, then he’d have a shot at winning the All Around Cowboy. He wanted the title so bad he could taste it. But so did Seth and Mitch. Just like so many other cowboys did.
“Okay. Sounds good.”
Jarrod pulled up, stopping his horse. He extended his hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention this before. Congratulations on winning the steer wrestling event.”
Mitch grinned. “Thanks. I appreciate it. You should give it a shot.”
“Naw. I’ve got enough going on.”
“What’s the matter? Are the steers too big and mean for you? Did old Sidewinder put the fear of God into you? No shame if he did. He came within an inch of castrating you.”
Jarrod laughed and flipped his friend off. “See you back home.”
“I’ll be around. Holler if you need me to nurse your wounded pride.”
He chuckled again then led his horse toward the trailer. It wouldn’t take long to get Flyer rubbed down and ready to roll. Seth’s horse Dancer was already in the trailer and starting to get antsy.
“Where’s your rider, boy?” A lot of the pickups and trailers were already gone. If he didn’t know his brother better, he might get worried. But it wasn’t the first, nor would it most likely be the last time, he’d had to wait on Seth to show up. He was probably off chasing girls. Still, his gut was telling him this time was different.
* * * *
Amy did her best to melt her body into the side of the pickup. Jesse was stretched out under the other tarp with his head near her feet. She prayed he wouldn’t make a sound. Or worse, decide to do something stupid.
She could hear the men talking and then the sounds of someone opening the gate of the horse trailer. The horses nickered and stomped, signaling their impatience.
“Go on, boy. Inside. That-a boy.”
She clapped a hand over her mouth, barely covering her gasp. His was a voice she’d never forget. Her body recognized the sexy cowboy, too, lighting up as though he’d flipped a switch deep inside her and turned her on.
Was it luck that she’d chosen Jarrod’s pickup? Or would it turn out to be anything but good? He hadn’t been rude to her earlier, more put out than anything else, but he hadn’t been very friendly, either. And his irritation at Jesse, albeit understandable, hadn’t been hard to miss. Jesse had bitched about how he’d had to apologize for almost an entire hour afterward.
Please, Jesse. Don’t say anything.
More noises continued as the cowboy got the horses and the trailer ready to go. When she heard him move closer to the side of the pickup, she held her breath. If he noticed that the tarps were no longer folded and lifted them up, he’d see them. Would he kick them out? Or would he give her time to explain? If so, maybe, just maybe, he’d want to help them.
She wasn’t sure what she wanted to happen. Having someone else know what Jesse had done could cause problems. But having someone help shoulder the burden would feel amazing.
“Yo, man.”
Someone had stopped him from getting into his truck. She had a horrible feeling she knew who that someone was. Her guess was confirmed when Jesse took hold of her shoe and squeezed it.
“Yeah?”
“Have you seen the people who came in this car?”
Oh, shit.
They were standing right next to the truck. If she or Jesse made a squeak, they’d be screwed. It was a wonder they hadn’t heard the rustle of the tarp when Jesse moved his arm.
“Who’s asking?” Jarrod’s voice held an edge of defiance.
He wasn’t going to tell them straight out. At least that was something.
“It ain’t none of your business, man.”
“It is if you think you’re going to get an answer.”
She smiled. She’d been attracted to Jarrod the first moment she’d met him, but she was starting to like him more and more. Not because of the way he looked, but because of the way he acted. He was a man who didn’t take shit from anyone. And he wasn’t about to go shooting off his mouth without knowing what was going on.
“Look, man, just say yes or no. Did you see the girl and guy that came in this old car or not?”
She could imagine the corners of Jarrod’s mouth tipping upward into a patronizing smile.
“Nope.”
“Damn, man. Was that so hard? If you do, you give out a shout, got it?”
“Yup.” That yup was definitely a nope.
“Yeah. You do that, cowboy.”
Footsteps sounded like they were going away from the truck. She breathed a sigh of relief then paused, half expecting the tarp to get lifted off them. Had he guessed they were under there and kept quiet anyway? If he found them, what would he do? Give them time to get away or call out to gang?
“’Bout time you showed up,” said Jarrod.
“Who were those guys?”
Seth was back. Relief collided with nervousness. If found, she’d have to convince both of them to let them come along.
“Just some boys acting like tough guys. They’re looking for Amy and her brother. Looks like someone’s in trouble. I’m taking a bet that it’s not her.”
Shit. Having anyone know about her brother’s trouble was bad enough. But for the Hill brothers to know made her queasy.
“You didn’t tell them th
ey were here, did you?”
Here? As in at the rodeo? Or under the tarp?
“Nope. Doesn’t matter. They knew her car, so they know they’re around here somewhere.”
“Maybe we should stick around in case she needs us.”
She. Not they.
The silence after Seth’s question weighed in the air. If she and Jesse weren’t hiding in the back of the pickup, she would’ve been thrilled. But now all she wanted them to do was get in the truck and start on their way.
“She’s probably long gone.”
She heard the conviction in Jarrod’s tone. He was leaving, doing what she’d hoped he’d do. And yet, she couldn’t help but be disappointed.
The pickup dipped to the side as one of them opened the door and slid behind the driver’s seat. At least, if he’d noticed the tarps, he wasn’t letting on.
“You coming?”
“Yeah.” A moment later, another dip came from the other side as the other cowboy got in on the passenger side.
Were they still talking? She listened, concentrating on picking up their voices, but the roar of the engine drowned out the other sounds.
“Do you think we’re good, sis?”
“Hush, Jesse.”
Yeah. I think we’re good. For now.
Fortunately, for once he listened and kept quiet.
But where were they headed? All they had was a small amount of money and the clothes on their backs. Everything else, all the things she’d scrimped and saved for, were left behind. All her hard work, trying to make a home, a place she could be proud of had amounted to nothing. The enormity of what had happened in the last few hours hit her, tearing her apart.
She covered her mouth and wiped away a tear.
* * * *
Seth pushed the CD into the player. If anything could get Jarrod into a good mood, it’d be his favorite country singer, Will Harnett. The throbbing beat of a bass drum pounded in the background as the smoky-voiced singer belted out the lyrics. The song was about a hard-drinking, hard-loving man who was on his way down when he found the love of his life. Before long, Jarrod started patting out the rhythm on his leg.
Seth gripped the steering wheel. Hard drinking he could relate to. Hard loving was a different matter.
Although he’d fallen in lust more times than he could count, he’d yet to fall for any one woman. Jarrod, however, had fallen in love with his high school sweetheart. At least, until she’d ended up in the backseat of the quarterback’s Chevy Camaro. After that, his brother had stopped believing in love or that a woman could be faithful.
Seth wanted to change his mind. Just because he hadn’t fallen in love yet didn’t mean he didn’t want to. In fact, he figured not falling in love made it even likelier for him to fall hard and fast. And when he did, he wanted his brother along for the ride.
They’d long ago realized that they wanted one woman for the both of them. If she was the right woman, she’d be more than enough. She’d have to be tough, strong, willing to handle not only life on a ranch but on the rodeo circuit. But, above all else, she’d have to be faithful and willing to give them everything she had. They wanted a woman who’d have their backs just like they’d have hers.
He cursed as yet another hell-on-wheels maniac of a driver cut in front of him, giving him precious little time to pump his brakes. Hauling a long horse trailer was hard enough, but on the highway it was worse. People in Selena drove like they lived in Los Angeles. With enough skill to operate a moving missile, but not enough sense to know when to slow down. By the time he’d made it farther outside of town and on the long stretch of road that would take him home, he was ready to swear off cities, both large and small.
Why the hell would anyone want to live in a city anyway? Who wanted to smell car fumes and breathe in smog when they could live on a ranch with wide open spaces and clean air? The answer, of course, was clear enough. Most people just weren’t as lucky as he and Jarrod were.
But luck was only part of it. They’d worked long and hard, starting as soon as they could get a rancher to hire them at the ages of eighteen and sixteen. The rancher hadn’t thought either one of them would last a week, but they’d proven him wrong, learning everything until they’d become the best ranch hands the old man had ever seen.
Under the hard but fair teachings of the rancher, they’d learned how to break horses, ride bulls, and herd cattle. Before their first year had come and gone, they’d gotten damn good at ranching. Whenever they could, they’d taken off for a rodeo and entered events. Once they’d started winning, they’d started investing the money. The day after his twenty-first birthday, they’d surprised everyone by buying their own ranch. That had been the happiest day of his life.
They loved ranching. The life was perfect and the skills came naturally to them. While other ranches had gone belly-up, theirs had thrived.
What one of them lacked in skill, the other made up for. Jarrod was skilled at breaking horses while he had a gentle touch and sixth sense that made him invaluable when it came time for the calves to be born. Jarrod was more of a stickler for details while he could see the big picture. Jarrod had a head for numbers while he was great at negotiating deals. Together, they made a terrific team.
He drove on, switching out one CD for another. Before long, they’d be back on their ranch where they belonged. If it weren’t for rodeos and the occasional trip into the small town of Garner, he doubted they’d ever leave the ranch. It was more than just a home, it was their idea of heaven.
Once they got back, they’d get the horses settled in, then take a couple of bottles of cold beer out onto the front porch facing the western horizon, and relax. Maybe then Jarrod would stop reliving those blasted seven seconds on Sidewinder.
He glanced over at his brother and guessed what he was thinking. Although he’d started to relax with the music, Jarrod’s face was still scrunched, no doubt reliving his bull ride. He was probably cursing both himself and the bull.
A bump jostled the truck and the trailer, jerking his attention back to road. He glanced over his shoulder at the trailer. Not that he could see anything. Instead, he lowered his window and listened. If the horses had taken the bump the wrong way, he would’ve heard them kicking up a fuss. They stirred a bit then settled down, letting him know they were all right. Still, he’d stop at the next gas station to fill up and check on them.
“Problem?” Jarrod twisted around to take a look.
“Not that I can tell.”
“Good, but—”
“I know. I’ll stop soon enough and make sure.”
“Make it real soon.”
Like he wouldn’t? But he didn’t argue. What use would it do? Jarrod was only saying what he was thinking.
He turned back toward the road in front of them just in time to see a huge, deep pothole. His foot hit the brake, pumping it as hard and as fast as he dared without making the trailer jackknife into the other lane. And then he heard it.
But what exactly had he heard?
“Did you hear that?” asked Jarrod.
“Yeah.” He glanced back at the trailer again. And yet, what he’d heard didn’t sound anything like a noise a horse would make. Instead, it reminded him of a groan. A very human groan.
Fuck. “I think we’ve got a stowaway.”
“You’re kidding.” Jarrod shot him a look then checked over his shoulder.
Seth glanced back yet again, but this time he looked into the bed of the truck. “Wish I was.”
Why hadn’t he noticed it before? The two tarps they kept in the back weren’t folded any longer. And damned if they didn’t look lumpy. Lumpy like a couple of bodies were underneath them.
If he’d been closer to the Texas-Mexico border, he might’ve expected a couple of illegal aliens had hopped aboard and were using him for a quick ride farther into the country. But it didn’t make sense. For all his stowaways knew, he could’ve been heading toward Mexico instead of away from it.
“Check the back
. Does anything look different than it did before?”
“Seth, why don’t you just tell me instead of playing Twenty Questions?” Jarrod twisted around again and gave it another, longer look. “Shit. Last time I checked, those tarps were folded.”
“Yeah. And I remember them being folded when we first got to the rodeo, too.”
“Then you’re right. We’ve got at least one, maybe two, riders. Pull over.”
“In a sec.” Whoever had hidden under a couple of tarps had needed a ride bad. But bad enough to cause a problem once he pulled over?
“Are you thinking they’re more than just a couple of hitchers? You think they might be trouble, right?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Damn. Whichever way it goes, I want to be sure we’re ready for it.” Jarrod reached for the glove compartment.
“Aw, come on, bro. There’s no call for that. If they were armed, they would’ve just carjacked us.” Pulling a weapon was a serious decision. One he didn’t want to make if they didn’t have to.
He kept driving, going farther until a sign noted a rest stop a mile up the road. By the time he pulled off the road and onto the gravel path heading toward the small restrooms and picnic tables, he’d decided how he wanted to handle the situation.
He pulled the truck alongside a curb, giving plenty of room for the trailer. Checking around the area, he made sure no kids or women were anywhere near.
“I still think we need protection.” Jarrod held the Glock in his lap.
“Then you handle it. Remember? I’m a lover, not a shooter. Just let me take the lead on this, okay?”
“Suit yourself, but don’t go blaming me if one of them comes up blasting and puts a hole in your gut.”
Carrying a gun didn’t sit easy with either of them, but not having one on the road made them more nervous. Rodeos could be rowdy places, but nowadays, there were bigger dangers in the world besides getting beat up by a drunken cowboy or stomped on by a bull.