Riding Shotgun

by Joanna Wayne

  “Except there’s no snow,” Jaci said. “The North Pole always has snow.”

  “Don’t get a lot of snow in these parts,” Pierce said.

  “We do get a few flakes every now and then,” Esther said. “I remember one Christmas Charlie and I woke up to what looked like a winter wonderland.

  “We saddled up my horse Elvis and Charlie’s black steed and we went riding through the snow up to the falls at the gorge. What a ride that was.”

  “If it snows this Christmas, I could ride Dreamer,” Jaci said.

  “Don’t go counting on snow for Christmas,” Pierce cautioned. “Even Santa can’t promise that. But you can still ride Dreamer.”

  “Can I get Dreamer a Christmas present?”

  “That’s a great idea,” Esther said. “A big, red juicy apple would make a nice gift for Dreamer. She loves apples.”

  “I can give her an apple and a carrot,” Jaci said. “But not a candy cane. She might get sick.”

  “Actually, Dreamer is fond of peppermints,” Esther said. “But it’s probably not a good idea to give her too many treats at once.”

  “Mommy says too much candy will give me a stomachache.”

  “And that’s a fact,” Pierce said.

  Grace was impressed with the way Pierce handled the situation when Jaci talked about her mother. If he felt any animosity toward his ex-wife, he didn’t show it in front of his daughter.

  “Look,” Jaci called. “I found us a tree.” She ran to a nearby tree and hugged it, a pine that was much too tall and wide to fit in Esther’s living room.

  “That one’s nice,” Pierce said, “but we can’t take the first one you see. We gotta take our time and find the perfect tree to hang those silver slippers on.”

  He picked up Jaci, swung her to his shoulders and off they went, trekking up a hilltop where young pines, cedars and an occasional juniper dotted the landscape.

  “You were right,” Grace said to Esther. “There are plenty to choose from. Shall we tag along?”

  “You go ahead,” Esther said. “This cold weather has my arthritis acting up. Between that and the soreness in my ankle, I think I’m better off just sitting in the nice warm truck.”

  “You’re sure you don’t mind being left alone?”

  “Honey, every foot of this ranch is home to me. I’ll be just fine. You go catch up with them. Pierce and Jaci will be disappointed if you don’t help pick out that tree.”

  Grace hurried off in the direction where they’d disappeared into the trees. She had no trouble following the sound of Jaci’s excited voice and laughter.

  Jaci was ecstatic about Christmas in the way only kids could be. Grace knew how happy Pierce was that she was adjusting to her mother’s absence and making great strides in warming up to him.

  Nonetheless, Grace could tell his good mood this morning was forced. Not that she’d expect anything different after the horror tales she’d laid on him last night.

  She’d shared things with Pierce that she’d never shared with another living soul. Some of the torture she told him about had been so humiliating and degrading she hadn’t even described them to her lawyers.

  She would understand completely if he’d changed his mind and was having second thoughts about wanting her around. What man wouldn’t?

  Grace hadn’t seen or heard him climb out of her bed this morning, but he’d been gone when she woke up. Being that eager to escape a woman’s bedroom said a lot.

  Yet he’d been insistent she come with them this morning.

  “There you are,” he said when she caught up with them. “I was starting to think you’d bailed on us in favor of the warm truck.”

  “And miss picking out the world’s best ever Christmas tree? You think I’m crazy or something?”

  “Actually, I think you’re pretty fine.” He smiled and reached out a hand to her. Warmth flushed her body and a traitorous frisson rocked her senses. A smile. A touch. That was all it took from him to brighten the colors of her world.

  She was falling hard, but was he? Or had last night’s confessions changed everything for him?

  They walked on in the quiet hush of a cold winter morning in the breathtakingly beautiful Texas Hill Country. At least quiet until Jaci’s high-pitched voice shattered the silence.

  “Look, Daddy. Reindeer.” She pointed toward a buck and three does standing not ten feet away from them. The does took off running at the sound of her voice.

  The buck stood stone still, looking straight at them with incredibly captivating brown eyes. Finally, he raised his head higher and turned away, quickly disappearing into the trees.

  “That’s the tree I want, Daddy. The tree the reindeer like. It’s perfect for the silver slippers.”

  “I agree,” Grace said, thankful this choice was a really good one. The tree was a pine with an abundance of full branches to hold the lights and ornaments, around seven feet tall, with bright green needles and a shape to rival the artificial tree they’d seen in town.

  “Who can argue with reindeer?” Pierce said. “Although those aren’t actually reindeer.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Reindeer look a little different and there aren’t any around these parts.”

  “They look like deer.”

  “They are deer—white-tailed deer. But I bet these are the kind of deer Santa would use to pull his sleigh if he lived in Texas.”

  “Can they fly?”

  “Nope.” Pierce laughed, no doubt realizing his logic was not meshing with Jaci’s fanciful reality. “Guess Santa better stick to Rudolph and the rest of his reindeer team.”

  Pierce swung Jaci back to the ground. “You two stay right here and make sure we don’t lose this tree and I’ll go back to the truck to grab my ax.”

  “We’re cutting down a Christmas tree. We’re cutting down a Christmas tree.” Jaci made a song of the words, clapping along and dancing to her own joyful music.

  Grace had music, too, but it was playing in her mind and in her heart, a song her grandmother used to sing about being home for Christmas. Grace had given up on ever having a real home again, much less spending Christmas in one.

  She’d given up on Christmas trees and silver ornaments and bright-colored lights. Given up on joy. Given up on Christmas.

  But she couldn’t deny that she wanted this Christmas at the Double K Ranch, wanted it so desperately she could feel it glowing inside her. It might have to last her a lifetime.

  Pierce returned a few minutes later, a large ax in hand.

  “Stand back. This is a very dangerous tool.”

  He held the ax back and then swung, burying the blade in the trunk of the tree. He left it there, gleaming in the sunshine, while he shrugged out of his jacket and then his shirt.

  “Why are you taking your clothes off?” Jaci asked. “It’s cold.”

  “It warms up fast when you start wielding an ax.” He yanked the ax from the tree trunk and swung again.

  Grace wasn’t wielding an ax, but her temperature had just climbed into the danger zone. She’d seen Pierce without his shirt before. He’d been shirtless when he’d shared her bed last night.

  But she had never seen him with his muscles rippling the way they were right now. He reeked of masculinity. The fierce hunger for him grew stronger with each swing of the ax.

  But did he still want her?

  There was only one way to find out.

  * * *

  PIERCE LED DREAMER around the corral with Jaci perched in the saddle and holding on to the reins like a pro.

  “Looking good, little lady. Keep this up and you’ll be barrel racing soon.”

  “What’s barrel racing?” Jaci asked.

  “You race your horse around some barrels. We need to get you to
a rodeo,” Pierce said. “Maybe we can go see your uncle Tucker compete.”

  “Okay. Giddyup, Dreamer. We’re going too slow,” she said, obviously having lost interest in barrels and rodeos and an uncle she didn’t really know.

  But Pierce liked the idea of seeing Tucker again and Riley, too. He’d definitely pencil that on his calendar for spring. Grace would like his brothers and they’d love her on sight.

  “I like the way you’re handling those reins,” Pierce said.

  Jaci beamed and tipped her hat, the way she’d seen him do it. Man, had that little charmer stolen his heart.

  “Mommy is going to be so surprised that I can ride a horse. She thinks horses are dangerous, but Dreamer’s a good horse.”

  Leslie would be surprised, but definitely not pleased. Leslie had given him a million orders of what to do with Jaci while she was out of the country. Pierce had followed only a few of her rigid rules.

  If he’d followed all of them, he’d have been too busy to have fun with Jaci. Besides, this fathering business came a lot more naturally to him than he’d expected. But he had to give Leslie a lot of credit. She’d almost single-handedly raised the most wonderful kid in the world.

  Not that he was biased.

  He wasn’t sure how this split custody arrangement would play out over time, but he knew he loved having Jaci with him.

  He loved having Grace there, too. He’d given a lot of thought to the fact that Lacoste was out of prison. When you got right down to it, he figured this was the best thing that could happen for Grace.

  Pierce was working on a plan to put her fears to rest once and for all.

  He was still working out the details, but he’d made the right start with a few phone calls. He’d talked to a security expert in San Antonio, to the New Orleans prosecutor who’d tried the case against Tom, to his friend Andy Malone. Know your enemy. That was an important rule on the battlefield. Pierce was working on finding out as much as he could about Tom Lacoste.

  Pierce started back to the horse barn.

  “One more time, please, Daddy. One more time around the corral. I’m not tired a little bit.”

  Jaci might get her sentence structure mixed up from time to time, but she always knew what she wanted. Pierce knew what he wanted, too, and she was standing near the corral gate with Esther, both of them cheering Jaci on.

  He looked back in their direction. Grace was gone.

  * * *

  GRACE HAD ESTHER’S gentle mare Pansy saddled and standing next to her when Pierce came back into the horse barn with a saddle thrown across his broad shoulder. He looked shocked at first but then broke into his boyish grin that always set her pulse racing.

  “What did you do with Dreamer and Jaci?”

  “I let Dreamer loose into the pasture. Last time I looked, she was drinking water from one of the tubs of fresh water I filled earlier. Jaci and Esther took the truck back to the house.”

  He cocked his head to one side and rubbed a spot on his chin. “Who saddled the horse?”

  “Me.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I. While we’re being totally honest, I have one more confession to make.”

  “Let me guess,” he said, obviously picking up on her flirtatious mood. “You got one look at my Christmas tree abilities and realized you can’t live without me.”

  “You did look awfully masculine swinging that ax.”

  “Aw, shucks, ma’am. That was nothing.” He carried the saddle he was holding into the tack room but was back in under a minute. “So what’s this big confession?”

  “I’m actually an excellent horsewoman. I’ve been riding since I was ten when my best girlfriend’s parents started raising show horses. No cows on their ranch. No chickens. Just horses.”

  He leaned against the post of Dreamer’s stall. “You’ve been holding out on me. Why?”

  “I was afraid that if we started riding together, we might...” She hesitated.

  “Like spending time together?”

  “That’s the gist of it,” she admitted.

  “So what’s changed?”

  “I’m no longer afraid of liking you too much.”

  His brows rose questioningly.

  She took a step toward him. “I’m already there.”

  He crossed the space between them in a heartbeat. She felt the heat generated by their bodies when he took her in his arms. When his lips met hers, she went weak.

  One of the horses pawed and snorted. Another started to whinny. She ignored them both. What she couldn’t ignore was the loud clattering growl of an engine.

  She pulled away reluctantly. “I think we have company.”

  “Wait right here, I’ll shoot them,” he joked.

  He walked outside. The engine died and she heard voices. When he returned a few minutes later, Buck followed him in.

  “Buck’s here to clean stalls. I told him we’re taking Pansy and Charlie’s black stallion, Rocket, for a ride.” Pierce turned back to Buck. “We’ll be out of your way in a few minutes.”

  “Take your time,” Buck said. “I’ve got a couple of hours till quitting time and this is the last chore I’ve got scheduled for today.”

  The heart-stopping kiss had been interrupted. There was still plenty of time for another. Grace was ready to ride.

  * * *

  PIERCE NEVER FELT freer than he did galloping across wide-open spaces on the back of a majestic horse. Today was no different in that aspect, but riding with Grace added so many emotional components to the experience, he couldn’t concentrate on his horse or the scenery.

  She hadn’t been kidding. Her experience with horses had been evident from the moment she climbed unassisted atop her mount. Grace took control with confidence and an easy hand on the reins.

  But it was a lot more than her horsemanship that had Pierce reeling. He loved the way she looked in the saddle, silky strands of hair flying wildly behind her.

  Loved her new attitude, as if letting it all out last night had freed her soul.

  She kept up with him when she chose to but was comfortable falling behind or speeding ahead when the mood struck. Independent, her own person in spite of what Tom Lacoste had put her through.

  She’d managed not only to survive but to take down Tom Lacoste and the rest of his powerful family. Tom had picked the wrong woman to try to control.

  Grace might have been the one person in New Orleans who had the spunk and audacity to testify against him and his family. Pierce didn’t doubt for a second that Tom would love to rain down revenge on her for that.

  If he tried it, he’d meet his match. Pierce had fists that ached to beat Tom’s pretty-boy face to mush and the strength and training to do it.

  When the horses began to tire, Grace slowed Pansy to a trot. Pierce dropped back to ride at her side.

  “I’d forgotten how much I enjoy horseback riding,” Grace said. “I think I could do this every day of my life and never tire of it.”

  “Now you are starting to sound like a real cowgirl.”

  “The ranch life is growing on me,” she admitted, “except for getting up at daybreak. I think the livestock should be trained to sleep in.”

  “I’m sure any rancher who had to leave your bed in the morning would agree with that.”

  “I don’t know. You ran out on me awful early this morning.”

  “Not by choice. Never think that. You’d had a traumatic night. I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you when you were at your most vulnerable.”

  They slowed the horses to a walk, staying side by side, but not talking. She was so damn easy to be with. He could do most anything every day of his life if he was doing it with her.

  “Do you think Charlie was murdered?” Grac
e asked.

  “Where did that come from?”

  “I was just thinking. It seems so peaceful out here, but anyone could get on this land if they wanted to. I know it’s fenced, but I slipped under the barbwire without too much difficulty.”

  “And left your car behind,” Pierce reminded her. “If you were looking for a quick getaway, walking wouldn’t be a great option.”

  But Grace was right. The fences were made to keep the livestock in. The gates to the Double K were seldom locked. Besides, even if they were secure, it wouldn’t take much for a pickup truck or a four-wheeler to crash through the fence and get access to the ranch unnoticed.

  All things to consider when he talked to the security technician tomorrow afternoon. Pierce wasn’t expecting Tom to come calling, but on the off chance he did show up at the Double K, Pierce would be ready for him.

  Grace pointed off to the east. “Is that a lake?”

  “Actually, it’s a spring-fed pool that Charlie dammed up so we boys would have a swimming hole. You talk about fun and excitement—try swinging out over the water on a rope and then dropping when you reach the deepest part. That’s livin’.”

  “A little cold for that today,” Grace said. “But I’ll race you to the pool.”

  She took off first. The black stallion he was riding could have easily overtaken Pansy, but he stayed a few feet behind for the short ride. The view from the rear was too good to pass up.

  Once they’d dismounted, Pierce looped the reins from both horses over a low-hanging laurel branch that allowed them access to a cool drink of water. Even on cold days, horses needed a good deal of water.

  Besides, he figured they’d be here awhile. They had a lot to talk about.

  Pierce turned and Grace was gone.

  “Over here,” she called to him and waved from the corner of an old storage shed that looked like it would collapse in the next gust of wind.

  “What’s this building?” Grace asked. “An outhouse?”

  “Cowboys don’t need outhouses in the wilds.”