by B. J Daniels
Then there was Roy, the quiet one and Nevada, the one who looked like an ex-con to her. Not his face, but something about the way he carried himself. And then there was Will. Will Jarvis. If J.T. wanted to know who had taken his stupid distributor cap he should look to Will. The man had passed her on the highway yesterday. She distrusted a man who wouldn’t help a damsel in distress.
The men all seemed to brighten when they were able to recognize the food on the table. The men all took their places. All except for Luke Adams, the shy one.
As J.T. joined the men at the table, she put the plate with pancakes next to him, took her chair and waited. J.T. filled his plate and passed the food.
She wondered where Luke was, but was relieved to see the men filling their plates without McCall having to hold a gun to their heads.
But the true test would be McCall. She stole a look at him, anxious for him to take a bite of the pancakes.
Instead, he looked pointedly at her empty plate. She couldn’t possibly eat at this ridiculous hour of the morning, could she? With his gaze still on her, she took two small pancakes and a strip of bacon.
Foregoing butter or syrup, she took a tiny bite of the pancake, feeling like a monarch’s official food taster. She blinked in surprise. She took another bite, a larger one, and then quickly finished off the pancake. It was delicious.
She helped herself to a couple more and decided a little butter wouldn’t hurt her. She’d work off the calories before the day was over, she was sure of that. She drizzled some of the huckleberry syrup over the top of her short stack, amazed at just the thought that she’d made these.
She took a bite, closed her eyes and let out a moan of delight. When was the last time she’d had pancakes, let alone butter and syrup on them? Breakfast in L.A. was usually a cup of coffee on the run. She would swear that she’d never had pancakes that tasted this good.
She opened her eyes and realized that J.T. was staring at her, an amused expression on his face. She quickly wiped away her look of ecstasy then the buttery syrup from her lips with her tongue.
She waited, her heart in her throat, annoyed at how much she wanted him to say he liked them.
J.T. took a bite of his pancake, chewed, stopped, looked up at her in surprise. “Not bad.” He gave her a slight nod, then a smile.
She looked down, trying to hide how pleased she was.
J.T. LOOKED AROUND the table, worried. Over the years he’d had cowhands leave. Some missed girlfriends, others didn’t like the work. Some got into fights with one of the other cowhands and left. Some just couldn’t take all the quiet.
None of those reasons seemed to fit Luke Adams, but J.T. knew he could be wrong. He hoped to hell he was wrong about a lot of things he suspected.
“Luke didn’t say anything about leaving last night?” J.T. asked as he cut a bite of ham with his knife.
He looked around the table, carefully avoiding looking at Reggie. All he got from the men were head shakes or shrugs in answer to his question.
“He get into a fight or argument with anyone?”
Head shakes, shrugs.
“Luke left?” Reggie asked, sounding surprised.
“So it seems,” he said.
She glanced around the table, then asked Slim to pass her the pancakes.
“No one heard him leave the tent?” J.T. asked. Apparently not. He let his gaze light on Reggie. She had her head down, seeming more interested in her pancakes then Luke’s departure.
“You know where Luke might have gone, Ms. Holland?”
Her head jerked up. She blinked. “How would I know?” She had a dab of syrup on her lower lip.
“I thought you might have heard or seen him leave since you were up late?”
She shook her head, her tongue coming out to lick away the syrup.
She might have been the last person to see him, he wanted to say, but didn’t pursue it in front of the others. He’d been watching her with the cowhands and he hadn’t seen anything pass between them, not even a suspicious look.
Luke’s disappearance seemed to indicate he’d been the person she’d met in the woods last night; the person who’d disabled the truck for her. If so, they were obviously in this together. Whatever this was. Was it possible she wanted him to make a jeans commercial that badly? It had to be something else.
“Maybe he just got up early and went for a ride,” Reggie suggested. “Or maybe he went with Buck.”
“Buck would have said something if he’d known Luke was leaving. Doesn’t it seem odd to you that Luke would take off without a word to anyone?” he asked her.
Her eyes widened. She shrugged. “Everything here seems odd to me.”
His gaze killed the splattering of laughter that erupted around the table from her comment. “Well, I don’t want anyone else leaving here without me knowing about it.” He looked to the men. “I want you to work closely, keeping the others in sight today. Also keep a look out for Luke in case he just wandered off. I don’t want anyone else getting lost.”
J.T. saw Will Jarvis glance over at Slim. Slim was busy eating and didn’t seem to notice, but J.T. did. “Luke didn’t mention anything about leaving to you, did he Slim?”
Slim looked up in obvious surprise. His Adam’s apple worked for a moment. “I might have heard someone get up last night, but whoever it was came back a little while later.”
It seemed no one had heard Luke leave. The six men had all been sleeping in the same tent. He wondered how Luke had been able to leave, gear, horse and all, without anyone being the wiser.
His gaze settled on Reggie. He also wondered what she and presumably Luke Adams might have had to discuss in the middle of the night in the woods. Maybe she was just thanking him for helping her. Because if Luke was the man she’d been whispering to in the dark, J.T. would lay odds Luke had also been the man to take the distributor cap.
REGINA COULD FEEL McCall’s gaze on her. He thought she had something to do with Luke leaving? She’d never laid eyes on Luke Adams or any of the rest of them before yesterday. But she could see trying to convince McCall otherwise would be futile.
What exactly was he accusing her of, anyway? He already thought she’d done something to the truck to keep it from running so she could stay the night. Now he thought she’d done something to Luke?
She excused herself and got up to start the dishes. She had a pretty good idea that J.T. wasn’t going to have the men help her. She was right. As soon as they all finished their breakfasts, he told everyone to get saddled up.
Chairs scraped and boots thumped across the floor to the door. She didn’t bother to turn as they all left.
“I would suggest you stay in the cabin until Buck returns with a truck,” J.T. said behind her, startling her. She thought he’d left with the others.
She nodded and kept washing the dishes. Stay in the cabin. He must be kidding. She had no intention of missing the chance to see him ride. She had pictured it in her mind given the way he carried himself, all that confidence and competence, all that arrogance.
But in order to see him in the saddle, she’d have to get out of this cabin soon after the men left. She wished now that she’d paid more attention to how far away the cattle were when Buck was explaining how the cowboys rounded them up.
“I don’t want you wandering off and getting lost,” J.T. was saying.
He was still here? She nodded again and when she still felt him waiting behind her, she gave up and turned to look at him.
He handed her a dirty plate from the table. As she reached for it, her fingers brushed his.
They both released the plate. It clattered to the floor but didn’t break. Regina jumped back, startled, her gaze going to his. Other than the color, she’d never really noticed his eyes before. Probably because she’d only been interested in his butt.
Now she saw that part of what made him so handsome was his eyes. They were a pale deep blue, but with flecks of gold. The eyes alone could have held her attention. But s
omething in his gaze—
Suddenly the cabin seemed ridiculously hot. She swallowed, unable to take her eyes from his, although it felt as if all the heat in the room was being generated by his gaze.
Her insides seemed to soften, while at the same time, she felt as if she couldn’t catch her breath. Then over the erratic thudding of her heart, she heard the room grow painfully still.
It all happened in an instant. So quickly that Regina wasn’t really sure she hadn’t imagined it.
J.T. jerked his gaze away, cleared his throat and stooped to pick up the plate as one of his men appeared in the doorway to ask something about riding the ridgeline.
J.T. barked out the answer, his sumptuous, deep voice a little hoarse sounding.
The man—she saw out of the corner of her eye it was the young blonde Cotton—drew back in surprise, then seemed to leave quickly so J.T. didn’t see his knowing grin.
J.T. dropped the plate into the hot sudsy dishwater.
Regina began to wash the plate as if nothing had happened. Nothing had happened, had it? Then why did her face feel flushed and her hands seem to shake as she washed the plate? All because a man had looked at her?
When she finally did turn around she found McCall long gone. She set to washing the pans and skillets, keeping hot water going on with the fire so she could finish her job as quickly as possible and catch J.T. in the saddle.
Through the window she could see that it was growing light out, the sun coming up, the pines shimmering like green silk in the early morning light. The last time she’d seen the sun come up, she’d been out all night.
She stood staring out the window, surprised by how breathtaking the view was, then shook herself. What was she thinking? If she hoped to see J.T. ride— She quickly dried her hands.
But as she started toward the door, she heard a thud like something hitting the side of the cabin. Her gaze flew to the window but she saw nothing through the glass. Could it have been one of the men? Not likely. She’d heard them ride out a while ago. It had probably just been a tree limb blowing in the breeze.
Cautiously, she opened the door. The porch was empty. She stared out at the trees. But there was no breeze. It hadn’t been a limb hitting the side of the cabin. Whatever she’d heard was nowhere to be seen.
She looked out toward the corral. Only two horses remained. No cowboys. She stood at the porch railing listening. She heard no sign of the men or the cows. She realized she didn’t even know which direction they’d ridden off in or how far away they had gone. Mostly, she realized, she didn’t like the idea of going out there alone.
It wasn’t like her to be afraid, but it was as if she sensed something waiting in the woods, something more dangerous than anything she’d ever encountered in L.A.
Not that she would let that stop her. Buck would be back soon. She didn’t have much time and she wanted to see McCall ride. She knew once she saw him in the saddle nothing on this earth could keep her from talking him into doing the commercial.
But as she pushed wide the cabin door, she saw a large dark shadow fall across the porch. J.T.? Had he been waiting outside, knowing she wouldn’t do as he’d told her?
Or had he come back because of earlier and what had happened between them. Had something happened? He must have thought so for him to come back.
Her heart did a little flutter at the thought as she leaned around the edge of the door expecting to see him standing just off the porch, the sun behind him.
At first it didn’t register what she saw—or heard.
She let out a shriek of alarm. A huge bear rummaged in the dirt just off the end of the tiny porch—just feet from her.
She stumbled back into the cabin, slamming the door behind her. She could hear the bear snorting and scraping at the earth next to the porch.
What if it decided to come into the cabin?
She glanced around, looking for a way out. The windows didn’t open and there was only the one door—the one with the bear just outside. She was trapped!
Frantically she looked around for a weapon, then let out an oath. What was she thinking? Even if she’d found a rifle she didn’t have the faintest idea how to shoot one. Nor was she apt to shoot the bear even if she did.
Belatedly, she remembered something Buck had told her when she’d asked if there were any bears in the mountains.
Chapter Six
J.T. had sent the cowhands off to start rounding up the cattle. He wanted a few minutes alone to cuss and fuss and mentally kick himself—and to take a look around their tent.
What the hell had happened back in the cabin? One minute he was looking at Reggie and the next—
He swore under his breath, shaking his head at his own foolishness. One minute he’d just been looking at her, thinking what a handful the woman was, remembering the way she’d enjoyed her pancakes, and the next minute—hell, he didn’t know what he’d been thinking the next minute.
He couldn’t have been thinking at all to be thinking anything about a woman like her. A fool city girl. Worse, one with designs on him. At least this one had been honest from the get-go. All she wanted were his…assets.
So she’d stayed up most of the night and taught herself how to make pancakes and hadn’t burned breakfast to a crisp. So what? No reason to go all soft on her.
She was a damned fine-looking woman so who could blame him for being attracted to her if that’s what it had been for that split second when their fingers had touched?
Whatever it had been, it wasn’t going to happen again. He needed to keep his distance from her. Who knew what womanly wiles she would use on him if he weakened even the slightest. He already knew what lengths she would go to. At least he thought he did.
What really ticked him off was that she’d made him forget all about her late-night rendezvous. He had meant to ask her, not that he thought she would tell him the truth.
But as he led his horse over to the second wall tent, he couldn’t help worrying that she hadn’t been behind taking the distributor cap. So how did he explain her wandering around in the night whispering to someone in the trees?
He started to open the tent and stopped, thinking he heard a noise. He glanced toward the cabin. He was tempted to check on her and make sure she was all right. Uh-uh. He wasn’t going near that cabin or Reggie. It didn’t matter what she was doing out in the dark last night or who she was talking to. Buck would return and take her to town. By the time he and the men came in for supper, she would be gone.
So what was his problem? He knew it was the idea of leaving her alone even for a few hours. Who knew what kind of trouble she could get into?
He glanced around, feeling as if someone was watching him. He knew he couldn’t be seen through the pines from the cabin. Reggie would probably still be doing the dishes anyway. Taking another glance around, seeing no one, he entered the tent. The cowhands should all be out rounding up cattle, trying to keep each other in sight. So no one could sneak back for any reason, right?
He knew what was nagging at him. Luke Adams. He was surprised that the cowhand would leave in the middle of the night without a word. Especially if Luke was the person Reggie had been whispering to out in the woods. Luke’s disappearance on top of the disabled truck left him feeling all the more uneasy.
He’d already checked and knew Luke’s gear was gone. But still he wanted to have a look around the tent.
He checked each man’s gear but didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. He straightened, hitting his shoulder on the tent frame. He thought he heard a sound, a soft rustle, like something shifting over his head. He looked up and noticed something odd—an object had been stuck between the layers of canvas in the frame. He wouldn’t have noticed it at all if he hadn’t hit his shoulder and dislodged it.
He reached up and sliding his hand into the space touched cold metal. His heart leaped to his throat as he pulled out the 9 mm pistol.
J.T. knew that each man had a rifle or pistol on him when he was gather
ing cattle. Sometimes a man had to put down an injured cow. Or scare off a bear or mountain lion. Even put down a horse with a broken leg.
His camp rule, which he was sure Buck had shared with the men, was no alcohol. And no firearms in the tent or cabin. He’d heard too many stories from his father and grandfather about cowhands getting drunk and having shootouts in the middle of cow camp.
So why had one of the cowhands hidden a gun in the tent? As he stared at the gun he wondered not only who it belonged to but also what the owner was planning to do with it.
Sticking the pistol into his coat pocket, he stepped from the tent, glanced around and saw no one, then went to his own tent and hid the pistol beneath his cot for the time being.
As he exited his tent and started toward his horse, he heard a noise come from the cabin. He told himself he was just imagining the banging sound, looking for an excuse to go back to the cabin and Reggie.
As he looked toward the cabin, he realized he half-expected to see it on fire. It was that damned night mare he’d had last night.
Through the trees he could see a portion of the building and the only smoke rising out of it was through the chimney. But the memory of the night mare coupled with everything else left him anxious.
The banging sound seemed to be getting louder.
He stared at the cabin, telling himself not to go back there. He had six hundred head of cattle to get out of these mountains before the snow hit and the sooner the better, all things considered.
But it was impossible to ignore this much racket. And there was no doubt that the incessant banging was coming from the cabin.
He shook his head and headed toward the sound. What in the devil was she up to now?
REGINA HAD RUSHED to the kitchen, grabbed the largest pan she could find and a good-sized spoon. Out on the porch, she heard the creak of a floorboard groan under the weight of the bear. It was on the porch!
She began to pound the bottom of the pan with the spoon like a mad woman. To her horror, the earsplitting banging didn’t seem to phase the bear. She beat the pan harder and realized she would have to open the door. Obviously, the bear couldn’t hear it well enough.
