Her Unexpected Cowboy (Unforgettable Cowboys Book 1)

by Danae Little

  “So how are you involved in all this mumbo-jumbo?” The older man peered at him with aging eyes.

  “Good word. I don’t rightly know, but they want me.”

  “Have you called Wil?” Homer asked.

  Jameson watched Syd, she froze in mid-pour and a shudder coursed through her. He wanted more than anything to shield her from that pain and fear. She put down the pail and turned toward the older man.

  “He’s involved, Homer.” Her words were heavy, sad, but spoken with conviction.

  “What? No!” Homer shook his head. “He’s a good boy. How would he have gotten mixed up with hoodlums like these?”

  “I don’t know, Homer, but the signs are just too obvious to ignore.” She squeezed his arm. Jameson could tell her affection for the older foreman.

  Homer furrowed his brows, and Jameson could tell it took a great deal of inner settling before he could wrap his mind around all of this news.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Homer asked.

  Jameson met Syd’s eyes, her beautiful multi-colored eyes that he wished he could get lost in rather than face what lay before them. “Syd’s going to call the FBI and tell them everything. We’ll see what they have to say.” He watched the sorrow fill her eyes. Jameson clenched his hands.

  ~11~

  Sydney couldn’t believe that they had found the FBI’s phone number in the phone book. She would have never thought to look there. Jameson had excused himself from the house so she could talk freely as he said.

  Homer had sat with her, silent and watching.

  She hadn’t wanted to call the FBI. It sounded absurd to her and yet there was a real danger. She also didn’t want to get Jameson in trouble. She had wanted to just leave, escape, but as Jameson maintained, there was no running from a problem like this. It had to be hit head on.

  After Sydney gave a brief summary to the first person she was transferred to, she continued to be on hold or transferred several more times. By the time a man with a grizzled voice came on the line, she had left teeth marks in a pencil and torn a sheet of note paper to tiny bits.

  “This is Agent Graham. I’m the Special Agent-in-Charge. I hear you have a situation, Miss, uh, Campbell.”

  “I have explained the situation I don’t how many times Agent Graham, and truth be told I didn’t want to call in the first place. Do I really have to go through it all again?” She heard the exasperation in her voice and took a breath to steady it.

  “No. Your situation has been explained. I just have a couple detailed questions for you.” He sounded almost compassionate.

  “I’ll answer what I can,” she sighed, ready to put this nightmare behind her.

  “Now you stated this man who showed up at your door with no memory has had a few recollections, including his name, Jameson?” His voice held expectation.

  “Yes,” she said as her heart raced. She looked out the window for Jameson, a sudden sickening filling her stomach.

  “Can you please describe him?”

  “Describe him?” A blush crept up her cheeks, and she turned away from Homer’s intent attention. “He’s well over six feet, broadly built, and has amaz...uh, green eyes. I...I don’t want him to get into any trouble.”

  “Do you know if he has a tattoo with two swords on his upper left arm?” The man’s voice held restrained excitement.

  “You know who Jameson is?” A lump bobbed in her throat as she held her breath.

  “I believe so, Miss Campbell.”

  “So, you know he isn’t dangerous.” Was she trying to prove it to him, or herself?

  The man laughed, a sound of relief. “Dangerous? If it’s the Jameson I think, yes, he’s very dangerous, but he will do anything to protect you.”

  “That’s the impression I get.” She nodded, her heart easing a bit.

  “That’s why you need to find a way to leave him if possible.”

  “Leave him?” Sydney’s head raced, how could she leave him here, and where would she go?”

  “Do you have a way to hide out somewhere until we can get there?”

  “They have all the roads to my property blocked.” She didn’t want to leave without Jameson. He had become a safety net in the chaos, even if he had brought the problem himself.

  “Tell me your address again.”

  Sydney repeated her address. While she heard the man type away at the computer, a feeling that she couldn’t quite decide was relief or remorse coursed through her. This man knew Jameson. The excitement he exhibited sounded like relief and happiness, and he spoke of Jameson with kind familiarity.

  “You still there, Miss Campbell?”

  “Yes, please call me Sydney,” she said. She had never liked being called by her last name.

  “Sydney, I see here you butt up to some vacant Bureau of Land Management property. Is there a place there you could hunker down for a night, or even ride through, or connect with a friend’s place?”

  “There’s a cabin at the end of my property. I hadn’t thought about it. What about Jameson? Is he one of you?”

  Agent Graham chuckled. “Oh, he’s one of us. You don’t worry about him. He can handle himself. Now if he’s distracted by protecting you, that might get messy. These people that are causing you trouble are serious. It would be best for everyone involved if you got to a safe place immediately.”

  “What about Jameson? When can I tell him you will be here to help?”

  “The team is assembling as we speak. We’ll be there in a couple hours tops.”

  “Is there anything else I should tell him? Shouldn’t he just come with me? Wouldn’t he be safer that way?”

  “They would pursue, and like I said, it could get messy. Trust me. Don’t you worry about Jameson. Even with amnesia, he’s not someone to trifle with. You just get to a safe location. We’ll come get you when your home is secured.” He paused, and she could hear muttered voices. “I’ve got to go. The team is ready to head out.”

  “Okay,” Sydney said, still feeling uncertain about everything, especially leaving Jameson alone.

  “Oh, and Sydney, thank you for calling. Jameson will be safe because of you, and we will help him recover his memories. We’ll see you soon.”

  The line went dead. Sydney held the phone until the beep-beep-beep sound blared into her ear. She pressed the off button and set it on the table where she collapsed into the chair. Her heart pounded with indecision as she squeezed her eyes shut. She knew she should be running to get her things ready for a stay at the old cabin, but she couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

  ~*~

  Jameson slid behind the thick pine that had been his shield for the last couple of days. There were now two SUVs parked at the end of the driveway, the drivers in deep discussion. From his position he could not make out the words, and he couldn’t get closer without jeopardizing his position. Tension filled the air in the same way an electrical storm charged the sky before its onslaught.

  The attack would soon come.

  He needed to prepare. He needed to get Sydney somewhere safe, and Homer too.

  Stealthily, he maneuvered through the forest back to the house. He paused at the top of the steps, still doing his best to find a solution that would keep Sydney out of the mess. His fists clenched at his sides. It was his fault she was in the middle of this. He needed to keep her safe.

  The screen door squeaked, and he slowly looked up to meet multi-colored eyes full of mixed emotions. He immediately noticed that she had a backpack slung over her shoulder.

  “I was right.” Her eyes met his, open and trusting. He hoped he lived up to that trust.

  “You were right?” he asked, not wanting to breathe, for he knew this might be the last time they saw each other.

  “Yes, you’re one of the good guys. Agent Graham, does the name trigger anything?”

  Memories shot through him so fast he threw an arm out to grasp the railing for support. The barrage gave him a better feeling for who he was, but he couldn’t completely a
ccess the memories enough to share them. He just knew that it felt right and good.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Her voice softened as she took two steps to close the distance between them and laid a hand on his arm.

  “Yes, definitely triggers.” He watched her small hand on his arm. So small and feminine, yet so strong. Without the power to restrain himself, he took her hand in both of his and brought it up to his lips. He wanted to remember the feeling of her touch and the smell of her skin. “You’re leaving. How? Where?”

  “When talking with Agent Graham, I remembered an old homesteading cabin at the edge of my property. He said I had to leave you, that you would be safer without me distracting you.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted as he raised his eyes back to hers. Yeah, she was a distraction, one he would like to have more often. Not today though, today it could mean life or death, hers and his. “It would be safer for you, and I guess for me, if I knew you were in a secure location.”

  She nodded. He saw her swallow and push her shoulders back. “Do we have time to take the horses?”

  “The men at the end of the road are getting ready to act now. You would be faster on horses though.” He thought about the trade-off, trying to sense which would be the safer option. “How long would it take you to saddle them?”

  “Awhile, but we could ride bareback.”

  Jameson scanned the yard. The horses were corralled on the opposite side of the driveway which should keep them hidden if they were quick. He nodded. “It has to be done now.”

  Sydney stiffened, but she nodded and called in to Homer, “You can still ride bareback, right?”

  “Yes, Miss Syd. I’m not that old yet.” He wheezed out a pathetic attempt for a laugh.

  “Then let’s go.”

  “Take Guardian with you. It’ll be good for you to have him.” Besides, Jameson didn’t want the dog getting shot while trying to protect him. He didn’t need to say that to Syd though.

  She nodded. “Come on, boy,” she called the dog to her side. Syd gently pulled her hand from Jameson’s and started down the steps before she turned back to him. “The guns and all the ammo I have are on the table. I’m sorry for...” She blinked several times before turning her head and striding towards the corral.

  Jameson caught up with her in less than a half dozen strides. He grasped her arm and pulled her into him. Wrapping his arms around her slight frame, he breathed in the scent of her hair, letting the aroma fill him.

  Homer continued past them with a sideways glance and softly whistled for the horses.

  Jameson loved the way Syd melted into his arms. He squeezed her tighter to him, never wanting to let her go. She fit so perfect against him. Too soon she, seemingly reluctantly, pushed away to look at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

  “When this is all said and done, will you, uh,” Jameson coughed, and then chuckled nervously. “Will you go out to dinner with me?”

  Syd stared at him for a very long moment before laughing and melting back into his arms. “Yes, Jameson. If you find your way back here, I will go out to dinner with you.”

  He blew out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and rested his head on hers. He wanted to hold her forever, even though he knew it would be safer for both of them for her to go. If it hadn’t been for the charged air and imminent danger about ready to strike around them, he wouldn’t let go of her. He kissed her forehead, then her temple, along her jaw, and her chin.

  Her mouth parted, her breath matching his and warming him. He met her eyes so close. Her gaze softened before traveling down to his lips, less than an inch from hers. He couldn’t stop the momentum they had built up as his mouth crashed down upon hers. He needed to express all the emotions he could never find words for.

  As their lips mingled, his heart tugged and ached, and his stomach filled with flutters. He didn’t know what love felt like, and thought it too soon to know of such things anyway, but what he did know was that he was falling for the gal who had saved his life, in more ways than one.

  ~*~

  Sydney couldn’t believe she was kissing Jameson. When she had realized what his intention was, all she could do was follow it. Once their lips touched, the rightness filled her to the core. She had kissed men before, but none held so much power, so much force that the air rushed out of her lungs and yet filled her at the same time.

  His large hands threaded through her hair. His scent filled her. His lips devoured her, and yet it felt as if his soul had opened up, inviting her in, coaxing hers to meet his. Tingles swept through her in a rush of butterfly-like flutters.

  No, she had never been kissed like this.

  She knew love, or what she thought love was, but she couldn’t rightly call this love so soon, right? Yet, she knew as soon as he pulled away and she rode off across the land, her heart would break from loss. Even if everything turned out fine after this mess, she couldn’t be with someone who worked in the FBI. That was a life of danger, and she couldn’t handle this level of adrenaline on a daily basis.

  She pulled him into her, wanting to give all she could, knowing that it most likely would be the last time, knowing she probably would never be kissed like this again and that no other man would ever be able to compare.

  Homer cleared his throat.

  Syd grudgingly pulled away, her soul screaming at her. She rested her head against Jameson’s as they both panted with more than physical exertion. Looking in his eyes, she knew he felt the intensity too. It was no ordinary kiss.

  “The cabin is due south, hit the fence line and go west until the valley opens up, and you’ll see it.” She rushed out the words, pulled him to her for a brief second, and then quickly pushed away. She flung her leg over the gelding that Homer held for her. “Agent Graham said they’d be here within a couple hours. Please stay safe until then.”

  “I will. I’m a man of my word, and I promised you a dinner.” Jameson’s sideways grin about cut through her grit and had her slipping off the horse and back into his arms.

  If it wasn’t that Graham said it would be safer for him, she would have argued and stayed put. She couldn’t see Jameson hurt though. She returned to her horse.

  “I’m holding you to that, Cowboy,” she said, before lifting her hand in a final farewell and kicking the horse into a trot away from the corral, away from her land, and away from her unexpected cowboy.

  ~12~

  Jameson’s mind swam. With the mention of Graham, his mind hadn’t rested. Without Syd here to distract him, the memories solidified, becoming more tangible. Loading the guns and preparing the house for a siege became methodical. This wasn’t the first time he had held off a group of men on his own.

  At least he knew the cavalry would arrive soon. He hoped soon enough. He had a promise to keep.

  The noises of the ranch came to him through the windows. He missed the comfort of the shaggy dog on the porch. Guardian’s keen sense would have warned him as danger approached. Jameson would have never had forgiven himself if something had happened to that loyal animal though. The dog was Syd’s constant companion and protector.

  “Meow.” The cat rubbed up against his leg.

  He reached down and picked up Mr. Paws, scratching him behind the ears. “Now, when it gets loud you follow your instincts and find a good hiding place.”

  The cat purred his response. Jameson smiled. Here he was talking to the animal just as Syd would do. Somehow it comforted him. He wondered if that’s why Syd did it, or if it came naturally from spending so much time alone. Being alone felt familiar to him, too.

  If he was to live past this, he planned to rectify that for both of them. He and Syd belonged together. He knew that more than he knew his past, and he didn’t care what memories surfaced. That feeling of belonging wouldn’t be swayed.

  The animals started to practically yell in a frantic clamor. Jameson’s heart picked up its pace. He gave the cat a final scratch and then closed it into the bathroom. Flush against
the wall, he made his way back to the living room. His head hit a picture, but he caught it before it fell to the ground.

  All at once, he wished he had thought to make his stand out in the forest rather than Syd’s house. As quickly and quietly as possible, he took the pictures off the wall and set them on her bed. If bullets came flying through the windows he didn’t want her photos to be ruined.

  He snuck back out to the front of the house, rifle in hand. Pulling the shades back ever so slightly, he scanned the area. The goats ran around in their pens, acting as nervous as if a storm was approaching. In a way it was. He blew out a breath.

  They were out there. The question was where.

  A dark SUV slowly rolled down the drive. Jameson snorted. The audacity of this guy. So this was how he would play this. Jameson eyes shifted to the clock on the microwave. He had at least a half hour or more until Graham arrived. Then it would depend on protocol. Would his old friends just fly and drive in with a rush or go stealth and pick off the perps on their way in?

  Familiar memories rushed through him. If his instincts and flashes of memories were right, Graham would go stealth. Gratitude filled him for the man who would be coming to his rescue. The more memories that filtered in, the more he realized that this man was more than a boss, but a good friend too.

  The SUV pulled to a stop about twenty yards from the house, close enough to get shots in, but far enough they could mostly stay hidden behind the doors. It sat there, taunting him while he held his breath. Then he blew it out. Let them call the shots on how this started. Let them take their time.

  Jameson’s game plan was all about stalling anyway. He needed this man alive. He was the key to the head of the organization. Jameson could see the reports he had studied. Though he couldn’t remember everything, some things had been drilled in him enough that he knew them. Why he had been flung from the car and beat still eluded him, but it seemed this guy and he had a history. This man had a bone to pick with Jameson.

  The driver’s door slowly opened. A moment later the same man stood behind it, tugging down his coat and scanning the ranch just as he had the first time he stopped, as if things weren’t about to go down, as if he weren’t preparing for an all-out war to get what he wanted. The man’s eyes seemed to meet Jameson’s through the slat he peeked through.