Her Unexpected Cowboy (Unforgettable Cowboys Book 1)

by Danae Little

  Jameson held himself with a hand on the wall as more memories flashed through him. O’Neal.

  Jameson ground his teeth. He aimed the rifle right at O’Neal’s head. It took all of his willpower not to just take the shot and end this whole thing right now. Taking in a slow breath, he pushed it back out, doing his best to calm his heart rate, and to let emotions go. This was a job, and they needed that scoundrel for questioning. If they could get to the head of this organization, they had the chance to end the drug distribution in small towns all across several states.

  The cocky snake took a few steps around the SUV towards the house.

  “Hello there, Jake...though that’s not how you introduced yourself to me, now was it?” The man called out in a loud booming voice, confirming Wil’s involvement. That would be the only way he knew the made-up name Syd gave him.

  Familiarity sparked in Jameson. He knew O’Neal, what he did, what he was known for, but though he had a feeling he had interacted with him, specific memories with the weasel eluded him. Jameson must have been undercover. That felt right. It also would explain how he ended up in the bushes. He was lucky he still lived.

  “You know loyalty is everything to us. Imagine our surprise when we found out that the man who had let us down back in the capitol also happened to be FBI. Our own man.” O’Neal shook his head. “Now what do you have to say for yourself?”

  Jameson wanted to show him what he had to say. Instead he clenched his teeth and squeezed the rifle in a white-knuckled grip.

  “I see. You’re too ashamed to say anything. I would be too.” O’Neal looked around the ranch, took a few steps closer to the house. “I had wondered why you had stayed here. Thought you Bureau boys had protocol to follow. Then I saw her. She’s pretty and spunky too.”

  Jameson tensed. Every muscle in his body threatened to crush his own bones. He forced himself to breathe. Syd was safe. By now she would be hunkered down in the cabin, probably bored stiff. Then he smiled. She probably was scrubbing that cabin until it shone. That gal couldn’t sit still to save her life.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing her again. I bet you’ll feel like talking then, won’t you?”

  Jameson knew the game he played, but he wouldn’t be able to hold her against him. She was safe.

  “Oh, you don’t know.” The tone of O’Neal’s voice immediately stiffened the hairs on the back of Jameson’s neck. “My men saw her and the old man take off on the horses. They’re following her trail now. It might take my men awhile since they’re afoot, but don’t worry, she’ll be joining our party soon.”

  The world turned red as Jameson panted and growled in frustration. Everything in his body wanted to storm out the house, firing rampantly into the cocky snake threatening Syd. His rational brain, though, eventually won out. He knew the trap O’Neal attempted to snare for him.

  Once Jameson calmed down, he rationalized, wondering if he could sneak out the back window and catch the men before they found Syd.

  “I bet right now,” O’Neal said as he inspected his nails, “you’re thinking of trying to run after her. I wouldn’t. I have men surrounding the house. If you show your face anywhere but this front door right here, they have shoot-to-kill orders.”

  The growl started low in Jameson’s throat. He lifted his fists, bringing them down to smash the table. He caught himself just in time, remembering the way Syd lovingly ran her hands along the worn-smooth wood. He paced back and forth out of the windows’ views. Come on, Graham. I need you here now before I take out our only lead.

  It became eerily quiet for too long. Jameson finally became aware of that fact and snuck a glance through the window. O’Neal discussed something with one of his men in hushed and heated tones. Then he spoke into a radio. O’Neal’s face turned red and scrunched as he spoke through his teeth into the radio.

  Hope sparked within Jameson. Maybe Graham had arrived and were taking out the perimeter men. As if on cue, a slight reflection from near the barn caught his attention. The flash continued in a repeated pattern. The meaning clear to Jameson.

  The cavalry had arrived.

  “What do you mean the men have been taken out? You said he was in the house. Burn it down then, and find him!” O’Neal screamed at the man next to him who hurriedly grabbed a gas can from the car.

  Jameson thought quickly. He shoved the handgun into the back of his pants and flipped his shirt over it. He positioned the rifle against the inside of the front door for easy access if he had to rush back in for defense. The idea of walking out there into the open didn’t sit well with him, but he had to keep them from burning the house.

  With his hand on the door knob, he took a deep breath. It seemed like only hours before when Syd was in the same place, breathing deep before meeting the snake that stood out there now. Yet, this time was different. This time he knew the dangerous situation he was in.

  Jameson swung the door open just as a man with a gas can walked onto the porch. The man’s hands were full and cumbersome. He dropped the can, but not quickly enough. Jameson acted with instinct. He took two strides to the man, grabbed his arm and spun it around behind him and up.

  The man grunted in pain and Jameson twisted it a tiny bit more to make the point clear. He was his.

  “I’m here, O’Neal.” Jameson’s voice boomed over the ranch, as he pushed the man down the steps in front of him, never letting go of his arm and keeping his other hand to hold the pistol at the guy’s temple.

  O’Neal spun around at the sound of Jameson’s voice. He quickly sized the situation up and then nodded.

  “You were always good, Jake. I should have known you would acquire collateral to help keep your lady friend from harm.”

  “Don’t you talk about her. Call your men off.”

  “Oh, you know I can’t do that now.” He took a few steps towards Jameson and the man he held hostage. “Now, Doofus Dave, why did you get yourself caught like that. If you weren’t my nephew I’d out you myself.”

  Jameson knew he took that risk. O’Neal was known for being ruthless, even with his own men. In fact, even if the guy under his gun was the man’s nephew, when it came down to the line, Jameson knew O’Neal wouldn’t hesitate to kill the guy.

  Jameson slowly walked Dave towards his uncle as O’Neal took a few steps to meet them.

  “So, as you see here, Jake, we have a predicament. I promised my sister I would keep her son safe, and it seems you promised to keep that nice lady safe.”

  “I’m sure we can reach some arrangement.” Jameson’s words came through clenched teeth, every fiber of his being primed for what he knew he had to do. Just two steps closer. “Call your men off,” he said each word emphatically.

  “Now, now, we’ve been over this.”

  Jameson shoved the pistol harder against Dave’s head and pulled his arm up tight enough it made the man whimper. “Now.”

  “Okay, okay.” He took another step towards Jameson.

  Just one more.

  O’Neal lifted the radio to his mouth. “Jenkins, status.”

  “We’ve picked up their trail heading west at the fence line.”

  O’Neal met Jameson’s gaze, a dark expression coming into his eyes. “You know what to do.”

  “Yes, sir,” the radio crackled.

  Jameson ground his teeth as he tightened his hold on the man’s nephew.

  “You see, Jake. I can’t let you go. It would be signing my death certificate.” O’Neal’s arm slowly dropped lower.

  Jameson saw the glint of metal under O’Neal’s jacket. O’Neal caught his gaze, dropped the radio and reached for the gun. Jameson took that last step, shoved Dave to the ground, turned his pistol towards the O’Neal. He could shoot him right here and be done with it, but instead he pulled back and side cocked the snake on his temple. O’Neal went down, slumping on top of his nephew.

  Jameson kicked the gun that fell from O’Neal’s hand and kept the pistol aimed down at the two men who lay unmoving. He scanned t
he area. His eyes caught movement at the barn. A man in a black mask, the man who had been flashing before, came out, gun and eyes scanning as well. He nodded towards Jameson, and then touched the black device at this throat.

  “Area secured.”

  Relief swept through Jameson as the man lowered his gun and cuffed the two men at his feet.

  “Good work, sir,” the man in black said, as he pulled up his mask. The guy’s face was familiar but Jameson couldn’t come up with a name.

  “Good timing,” Jameson said as he eyed the dozen other men in black appearing from behind the house, the barn, and the forest to meet them.

  One in particular strode straight towards him, he lifted his mask and smiled broadly.

  Graham.

  Jameson grinned.

  “You always know how to make a show, Jameson.” Graham came up to him and pulled him into a rough hug before slapping him on the back. “What’s all this?” He tugged at the scruff on Jameson’s chin. “I guess I’ll let it pass since you’ve been undercover.” He laughed.

  With seeing Graham’s face and hearing his voice and laugh, a rush of memories flooded Jameson. He stumbled slightly with overwhelm. Bending over, he grasped his knees in order to not fall. Jameson’s head swam.

  “Hey man, you alright?” Graham nudged him gently.

  “Yeah, just...my memory is coming back. It’s a lot to take in.” He drew in a deep breath and unsteadily stood upright, a hand on his head.

  “You’ve led quite the life.” Graham stood back, watching him without expression.

  “So it seems.” Jameson growled. There were many things he wished had remained forgotten. What he did know was that he was in need of a career change. That life no longer suited him. Besides, Syd would never be okay with him slogging off to dangerous work all the time. “Syd!”

  “Yes, she’s in a safe location.” Graham stated.

  “Didn’t you hear him? He sent his men after her. I have to go.” Jameson looked around wildly. The quad would have been the fastest, but that was all the way over at Homer’s. Their trucks wouldn’t make it out there. His eyes landed on the red roan. The horse looked lonesome in the corral all by himself.

  Jameson rushed out the directions to the cabin to Graham and then opened the corral gate. A halter hung on the fence post there and he grabbed it. He called the horse over to him, haltered him quickly, swinging the lead rope around for reins as he saw Syd do. With a deep breath he grabbed its mane and threw a leg over the back of the horse. If he had ever ridden bareback before, it hadn’t been since he was a child, but there was no time to saddle now. He gripped the horse’s side with his knees and leaned forward.

  “Let’s go catch your friends.” He clucked his tongue.

  The horse didn’t need any further coaxing. He took off, quick to trot and then canter. Jameson held on for his life, his shoulder burning and knee aching. It didn’t matter though. He had to get to Syd before those men did.

  He made it to the fence line, and the horse turned west on his own. Jameson’s muscles fatigued and he felt his grip loosening on the smooth muscles underneath him. It wouldn’t do Syd any good if he fell off now. He gritted his teeth and clenched tighter. Almost there.

  The cabin came into view, looming in a clearing behind a stand of trees. Jameson’s eyes bounced as the roan galloped toward his friends tied at a hitching post. It was hard to focus, but he saw two men, one at the side window, the other rounded towards the front of the cabin out of sight.

  The sound of hooves pounding the earth must have caught the attention of the man by the window. He stood out in the path of the horse, his gun aimed. Jameson grunted with effort as he dug his heels into the horse’s side. They plowed right into the man, who spun, hit his head on side of the house, and fell.

  Jameson didn’t stop to see if he still moved. He clung to the horse and guided him around to the front of the house. The man there turned abruptly at the sound of his approach and raised a gun, pointed right at Jameson.

  Jameson launched himself at the man from horseback right as the sound of gunfire broke the air in a loud, reverberating blast. Pain propelled into his shoulder, fire laced through his ribs, but he and the man he had landed on remained still.

  ~*~

  Sydney dumped the full dustpan outside for the third time. As she closed the flimsy door, her breath caught. There was movement at the tree line. At her side, Guardian growled. She closed the door and moved to the window, pulling the dog close. Goosebumps broke out on her skin and she shook.

  “Syd?” Homer questioned.

  She slammed a finger to her lips, her eyes wide and heart pounding. Homer tiptoed over to her, handing her a gun and peering out the window.

  “I hope Hotshot was worth it,” Homer grunted.

  Her heart pounded with what might happen, but then she thought of never meeting Jameson. A part of her believed that whatever happened, it was worth knowing him. Besides, he promised to keep her safe. From what she knew of him, he wasn’t one to break those promises.

  Unless...

  She shook her head. She couldn’t afford to even think of what these men being here might mean for Jameson.

  “Should we shoot on sight?” Homer whispered.

  Syd shook her head. What if they were Graham’s men coming to tell them it was safe to return? She peeked out the window again. These men weren’t dressed like she thought the FBI would dress. They looked like slicked-back cowboys to her.

  Sydney and Homer stood against the wall on either side of the only door to the small cabin not that these walls would hold back any bullets. She could see light streaming in from between the boards. A shadow crossed the window to her right. Her heart raced as she leveled the gun at the window.

  At first she thought the thundering sound was her heart, but soon she realized it came from beyond the walls and took on the distinct rhythm of a horse in full gallop.

  Jameson.

  Tingles rushed down her spine and her heart thundered. He had come for her!

  She met Homer’s eyes that crinkled in knowing as he nodded.

  The grunts out the window and the sound of flesh against the wall left Sydney’s stomach queasy. The sound of horse hooves then rounded the house. When she heard the gunshot behind her, she doubled over with a sickening feeling. It only grew worse with the deathly silence that followed the blast.

  Guardian barked, frantically pawing at the door. Without thought, she grasped her gun and swung the door open.

  Her red roan pranced away to stand with the other horses. A groan sounded near her feet. Guardian whimpered and nudged at the bodies lying there. Jameson lay on top of another man, his breathing rapid and shallow.

  “Jameson!” She knelt down beside him, touched his face and watched his eyes flutter open.

  “Syd. You okay?” His green eyes were dark and unfocused.

  “Yes, we’re fine. Thanks to you.” Her hands brushed over his hard muscled body in search of wounds and came back bloody. “You’re hurt!”

  “Just a scratch. It’s nothing.” His tight voice told her he wasn’t telling the truth. “Homer?”

  “I’m here, Jameson.” The older man stood in the doorway, still as a statue.

  “Find something to tie these two up, in case they come to consciousness.” He groaned as he uneasily rolled off the guy he had landed on.

  A bright red puddle of blood spread across the man’s chest, but he breathed. Sydney then turned her eyes towards Jameson lying awkwardly and realized that the blood had come from him. She passed Homer exiting with a roll of twine as she ran inside and shifted through the cupboards until she came up with some sheets. Running out to Jameson, she stuffed the cloth on his wound where the blood surged with each pulse right under the outside of his collar bone.

  Using all her strength, she pressed the sheet on his wound while he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. She freed one hand to brush her fingers along his bearded chin.

  “You better hang in there. Yo
u promised me a dinner, remember?”

  Jameson opened his eyes and chuckled shortly before groaning and grabbing his ribs. “I could never forget.”

  Sydney bent over and kissed him lightly. His lips turned into a slight smile before his eyes closed as he let go of consciousness.

  “Jameson. Jameson!” Sydney called his name. Her hand went to his pulse on his neck and saw that it still beat, and he breathed, although shallowly.

  Jameson had only been unconscious for a few minutes when a loud whomping sound filled the sky. It became louder and louder until the wind picked up as the helicopter landed in the clearing behind the cabin.

  Guardian barked, around her and Jameson in a frantic dance.

  “Homer, would you get him inside please,” she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the loud thrumming.

  He nodded, grabbed Guardian by the collar, and took him into the house.

  A man in his late fifties jogged towards Sydney. His eyes narrowed and never left Jameson lying in her arms. He slowed as he came closer, his eyes moving from the bloody, still form of Jameson to hers.

  “He...?”

  “He’s alive.” She met the concerned brown eyes. Even from the one word he spoke, but mostly from the way he reacted to Jameson lying in her arms, she placed him. “Agent Graham?”

  “Yes,” he said, lowering to her side to place a finger on Jameson’s neck. He turned away from them and yelled, “Bring the stretcher.”

  “You’ll make sure he’s okay?” Sydney stared hard at Graham before lowering her eyes to Jameson’s. She traced his cheek and wished she could see his beautiful green eyes one more time.

  “On my honor,” Graham said in a deep serious tone. “Thank you, Sydney, for helping us find him.”

  She nodded, wishing that the bad guys had never found them and Jameson could have just stayed on the ranch. It wasn’t a fair wish though. Jameson needed to know his past, even if it took him away from her.