by Aden Lowe
The catchy tune quickly gave way to the hard beat from earlier, and a growling voice blended perfectly. "Say your prayers little one, Don't forget my son…" Kate listened, captivated, as something in that voice reached into her and gripped a part of her she hadn't known existed. By the time the last notes trailed away, she knew without a doubt, she'd found something entirely new and unexpected.
Jakob watched her, not hiding his knowing smile. "Gotcha." His exact duplication of the growl on the CD sent a shiver down her spine. "Not what you expected?" His voice had gone back to normal, but her newly trained ear picked up the sinister growl hiding within the gravelly tones.
The shudder of appreciation wasn't easy to conceal, but Kate thought she managed it fairly well. "Not at all. I've never been interested in that kind of music. Always just turned the dial as quickly as possible."
"Hang around me a while. I'll show you something far more interesting than what you're used to." The way his gaze swept over her features, paused at her breasts, and continued downward said he fully intended the double meaning.
Okay, she really needed to change the subject. The lane to the barn appeared, offering the perfect opportunity. "Go forward and bear left here. You'll round the barn to the right and pull around back. I have a shed back there if you'd rather park under cover, or you can park just to the side of the shed."
The truck stopped and Jakob nodded once before putting it in gear and following directions. "Do I get an answer now? Or do I have to wait until I catch you a lion?"
"An answer to what?"
"Will you hang around me enough for me to show you some interesting things?"
Oh…boy. Every more severe epithet she'd ever known fled right out of her head. So much trouble. "That—" She had to pause and clear her throat to get the breathy, wanton tone out of her voice. She tried again, "That depends." Better.
"On what?" The grin he flashed her way said he knew all about the pulse that suddenly pounded her core.
"I haven't decided yet."
It was a good thing he'd stopped the truck behind the barn, waiting to see where he should go next. She opened her door and bailed when self-preservation demanded she get the hell away from all that overwhelming maleness. The man absolutely oozed sex at the moment, and she wasn't equipped to deal with that sort of assault on her senses. Nothing in her life had prepared her for that.
Limp on full display, Kate crossed in front of the truck. "We can unload your animals here. The corral should suit the horses, and there's a pen over there for the dogs." Rather than wait for an answer, she headed to open the corral gate.
Jakob already had the first horse out when she returned to the trailer. He passed her the lead on the bright sorrel and white paint. After a quick pat to introduce herself, she started forward, surprised when the horse's big head went impossibly high. She stepped back, prepared to wait out a rear, but the horse just calmly followed. Okay, then.
Apparently witnessing her discomfort, Jakob spoke, "Sorry, I forgot to warn you. These are Tennessee Walkers. Their head carriage is naturally far higher than a Quarter Horse's."
In short order, the four horses pranced around the corral with excited, exaggerated movements, nostrils fluttering to take in all the unfamiliar scents. Surely he didn't mean to take those high-strung animals on the trail? That was a recipe for disaster.
The dogs, big hounds, white with black patches on their bodies and tan over their heads, came eagerly out of the truck kennels, whining and pulling at their leashes. Jakob made no attempt to bring them to heel, instead letting them half-drag him to the designated pen.
Every second undermined her faith in him as a hunter. If he handled his own animals that way, and made such poor choices before leaving the barn yard, what would he be like on the hunt? A sitting duck for a clever mountain lion, no doubt.
Chapter Five
The tasks of unloading occupied only part of Jakob's mind. The rest he turned toward the puzzle of Kate Holt. She presented an odd mixture of strength and vulnerability, experience and innocence. The instant her little fist connected with his jaw, he'd been fascinated, attracted beyond belief. Lust had never hit him so hard or so fast. There for a second, while his fingers clutched her fragile wrist, he'd been hard-pressed to rein in the instincts that demanded he take her, right there in her own driveway.
Thankfully, common sense prevailed and insisted he at least find out if she was married. Then she'd climbed into his truck and Jakob was pretty sure her own instincts made some pretty strong demands. When she actually appreciated Metallica, he decided to find out her relationship status at the first opportunity, because as long as she wasn't attached, he meant to have her. Preferably before he left to hunt the lion. And when he returned.
The pronounced limp she displayed when she got out to help him unload certainly changed nothing about his intentions. If anything, it intrigued him more, though it could explain the lack of experience he sensed in her. People with physical issues often hesitated to put themselves out there emotionally, afraid of rejection, often with good reason. A badly timed remark from one jerk, or a pair of popular girls, could easily mess up someone's head for the foreseeable future.
With his animals safely unloaded and truck parked beside the shed to leave his gear readily accessible, Jakob strolled up to where Kate leaned on a corral post watching his horses. Uncle Frank's spotted mare sidled up to Kate, muzzle outstretched in interest. Kate clucked softly and offered an open palm for the gentle mare to check out.
"Her name is Whiskey. She was Uncle Frank's favorite."
"Was?"
"He passed away a couple weeks ago. That's why I was at his place, came in to start settling his affairs. Otherwise I wouldn't have got your call."
Kate rubbed Whiskey's head and looked at him appraisingly. "So you aren't actually a hunter?" Her carefully neutral tone said far more than her words.
Jakob grinned. "I grew up hunting with Uncle Frank, then joined the Army and went to hunt terrorists. Yeah, I'm a hunter." The damn mule darted in and made a grab for his hat in its never-ending game of snatch-and-run. He managed to duck back in the nick of time. "Bastard." He growled under his breath so the mule could go into the run phase of the game. "So, I need a topo map, if you have one, where we can mark what your crew knows about this mountain lion. I'd also like to talk to anyone who's seen the cat's sign or knows anything about it. I'll head out in the morning, right at first light. My animals will be well rested then and I'll make a hard push straight for the lion's range."
"I have the map, already marked. Brady, the hand who found the kills and sign, will be in for lunch. I agree, we should head out first light. We can use ATVs, or I have plenty of riding stock that might be a little more suited to the terrain than your animals."
Jakob held up a hand. "Wait. We?"
"Yes, of course, we. I'm going with you. I can handle horses and guns, and I'm a good shot and a good tracker. Besides. You don't know the terrain here, and I have a thing about strangers wandering around my land unaccompanied."
"Okay, point taken. But I move fast, sometimes on foot. You prepared for that? And what's your husband going to think of it?" Of course she wasn't. Whatever caused that limp wasn't going to let her keep up with him on the trail. If need be, he'd let her ride out a couple hours, and send her home when she got tired.
She shrugged, the movement tightening her shirt across generous breasts, and reminding him of the potential benefits of playing nice. "I'm prepared. We'll see if you can keep up. And I don't have a husband or boyfriend to get upset with me for going after a lion. ATVs? Or should I have the men catch up some more horses? Of course, your horses will be well cared for while we're gone."
Bingo! No significant other to worry about. Jakob let himself relax a little against the rails to work out his course of attack. "I have no doubt. But truthfully, not only are my horses trained to work with the hounds, they're rock-steady in gunfire, or with predators nearby, and they're surefooted as mountain g
oats. And they'll run your cowponies into the ground in both speed and distance."
His bold claims brought a derisive little snort. "Right. They're high-strung, better suited to the show ring than a hard trail with real horses. And what the hell is with the mule?"
Her question caught him by surprise. "Jack? Besides being an excellent riding animal, he's even tougher than the horses, and if all else fails, he'll kick the lion to death. He's also along for entertainment value." As if aware he was being spoken of, the long-legged mule twisted himself into an impossible contortion to bite at an itch inside his hind leg. "See?"
Kate's face lit up with her smile and took his breath away. Makeup would have marred her natural beauty. Full lips begged him to lick and nibble. "So I see. The fact remains, these animals aren't suited to this terrain."
Inspiration struck. "Wanna bet?"
The tempting smile turned into a calculating grin. "What do I get if I win?"
The urge to tell her, in explicit detail, nearly prevailed, but Jakob caught the words back in the last instant. "My Metallica CD?"
Her quick nod betrayed her relief. "And if you win?"
Jakob paused as if searching for something worthy. "You listen to my Metallica CD. With me. While we have dinner together."
Kate extended a small hand to confirm the wager, and Jakob closed his much bigger one around it. "I'd rather seal the bet with a kiss."
Thick-lashed blue eyes went wide with alarm, but she quickly regained her composure and mischief turned the corners of her lips upward.
"Miss Kate? You doing okay?" An old timer rounded the corner of the barn.
Every hint of anything more than business disappeared from her face like a switch had been flipped. "Of course, Ray." She started toward the old man, clearly expecting Jakob to follow. "Ray Johnson, Jakob Barger. He's come because Frank couldn't."
Jakob extended his hand. Apparently it was up to him how much he wanted to tell about Uncle Frank. No use hiding it. "Ray, good to meet you. Uncle Frank spoke of you often. He passed away a couple weeks ago."
"You're little Jake? Hell boy, you could walk right under them crazy horses of his last time I saw you. I hate like hell to hear Ol' Frank's gone. He was a good man."
"Yes he was." Relief settled in. Apparently he'd passed that test too. "Ray, tell me, what do your men know about this lion? Miss Kate has told me a little."
"Join us for some coffee, Miss Kate?" The old man led the way into the cool dimness of the barn. Part of a cross-alley had been commandeered to serve as a break-slash-loafing area for the men. A pair of worn bench-style truck seats flanked a narrow table laden with a coffee pot, transistor radio—the necessities for rainy afternoons mending tack, or gathering to receive the day's orders.
Kate followed them, and dropped to a seat rather than offer to take the female role and pour coffee. With a hidden grin, Jakob ignored his own inclination to be polite, and sat beside her. The way his size dwarfed her on the old narrow seat was impossible to ignore, though, and sent all sorts of scenarios racing through his mind. Combined with the way she caught her lower lip between her teeth when she didn't know he was looking, he'd be lucky to manage not to shoot his foot off.
Ray passed him a Styrofoam cup filled with muddy looking sludge that might or might not be coffee. A horse kicked at its stall down the alley and the old man frowned. "Miss Kate, will you come look at the bay with me?"
"The bay? What's wrong with him?" Her genuine surprise made Jakob take a closer look at the old man, but the wizened face gave nothing away.
Chapter Six
Kate hurried down the alley, anxious to see about the horse even if it did hate her. She needed to get the hunt talk out of the way and make her own intentions clear, but that would wait for a sick horse any day.
A glance in the stall door showed the horse contentedly munching his hay. "Ray, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong."
The old foreman sighed. "No, there isn't, Miss Kate. Leastways not with the horse. That boy there has a look in his eye I don't like. I don't want you going. Send one of the boys instead."
Kate drew a deep slow breath through her nostrils to keep from cursing. Of all the people she might expect something like that from, Ray was probably the last. "What do you mean, a look in his eye?"
"You going to make me say it? Dammit, Kate, the boy is a tom cat on the prowl. You don't need to be around that kind of thing."
Shock froze her for an instant. "What?"
Ray shook his head. "I wish your daddy was here, but since he ain't, I have to look out for you. That boy is the kind good girls cry over. He wants nothing but to take advantage of a girl like you, Kate. You can't go on this hunt."
It was only when the tang of blood registered that Kate realized how hard she'd bitten her lip in an effort to stay quiet through her fury. "Ray, I'm going to pretend this conversation never happened. But for your information, I might just want to be taken advantage of for a change." Spinning on her heel wasn't a great idea, ever, but nearly ended with her in a pile on the ground in that moment.
Recovered, she stomped back to the cross alley and flung herself onto the seat at Jakob's side again. Nosy old bastard. As if the state of her virtue was any of his business.
"Problem?" The firm line of Jakob's mouth commanded all her attention for a moment and left her glad to be sitting. Otherwise, her knees would have dropped her right at his feet.
Kate forced a rueful smile. "Just a misunderstanding. Nothing to worry about." If only it were that simple. Ray, and likely the rest of the crew, considered her one of those girls, unmarriageable, unworthy, unable, un-fucking-anything. And no doubt Jakob put her in that category too, and his seeming interest was only fleeting, and only because she happened to be female. Every ounce of her willpower focused on pushing back the heartrending despair that threatened to envelope her. She had no time for that shit.
At least Ray was smart enough not to follow her directly back to the cross-alley. He would have regretted it, for sure.
"Hey," the gentle pressure of Jakob's finger on her jaw insisted she look at him, "You okay?"
Of course, he would catch her in a moment of weakness. It simply confirmed Ray's suspicion he was a 'tom cat', a man who wanted nothing more than lots of sex with lots of different women. That sort always knew when and how to be sweet and get past a woman's guard.
He trailed that soft touch along her jaw and down her neck, raising the temperature to all sorts of illegal heights. "Tell me. I'm betting it involves me, and some of those interesting things I'd like to show you."
The truth bolted from her throat and blew through the gates of her lips to prove her foolishness. "He thinks I can't handle myself."
He tilted his head a little. "And can you?" The finger continued to stroke the column of her neck.
Again, the truth ran away from her, while her mind was occupied with the various ideas his finger inspired. "Sometimes I don't know." And why the hell didn't she just tell him to keep his scorching fingers to himself, anyway? When she thought to do so, her mouth betrayed her and refused to utter the words. She just couldn't win.
He gave a little wink that flipped her stomach and made matters worse. And he took his finger away and deprived her of that fascinating sensation. "I think you can."
The words didn't make up for the loss, but thankfully Ray chose that moment to return and saved her from having to answer. Would have been impossible anyway with her heart pounding in her throat.
Even as he nodded to acknowledge Ray, Jakob refused to move out of her personal space. One thing for sure, the man had nerves of steel even with Ray staring him down like some angry god from an ancient civilization. "Tell me what you know about this lion."
Ray's heavy scowl spoke volumes but Jakob continued to ignore it, and asked questions about what they'd found. Ray finally seemed to resign himself to his lack of control and began to speak in more than monosyllables.
With Jakob only inches away, his scent quickly over
whelmed Kate again, leaving her unable to stay focused on whatever was being said. Over the next hour, Jakob and Ray discussed the predator and its known habits, while Kate tried in vain to keep up and Ray ignored her. Of course, in all fairness, she couldn't blame him, since she'd essentially told him to go fly a kite.
As lunch-time grew near, Brady and one of the other hands joined them, electing to sit in the battered folding metal chairs, and pointedly refusing to acknowledge Jakob's proximity to Kate, or anything else out of the ordinary. Obviously, as far as they were concerned, if he got rid of the lion issue, everything else was all good.
Eventually, Jakob seemed satisfied that he knew as much about the lion as he could learn without a face to face meeting. "Okay, I'm going to double check all my gear and animals. Miss Kate, I could use a hand if you have time." He rose and offered his hand in a casual way, is if offering assistance was purely habit, more like in-grained good manners than trying to help someone less able.
Despite her usual stubborn independence, it felt natural to place her hand in his and accept his support to stand. "I'll be glad to help. I need to get my gear ready too." Her men stared at Kate as if she'd sprouted a second head right in front of them. It took some doing but she managed not to take any of their heads off as she reminded them of some of the tasks waiting for them. You'd think the bastards had just suddenly realized she was female.
Orders given, she followed Jakob out toward his truck, trying not to let her lingering aggravation at the men effect the hours ahead. Since she intended to be in the wilderness with this man for several days, far from any kind of assistance, she needed to get to know him a little, at least. Of course she would go armed to the teeth and prepared for trouble, no matter what he did to her libido.
