Masked Cowboy (Men of the White Sandy)

by Anderson, Sarah M.

  “No tornadoes today,” he said as his hand snaked out all by itself and began to run up and down her calf.

  “No major traffic accidents either,” she replied, stepping onto the blanket.

  He sat up and kissed her thigh. “Who knows what tomorrow will bring.”

  “We could all die in a flash flood.” She ran her hands through his hair as his kisses moved up her leg.

  “Right. Wouldn’t want to miss this.” He sighed in contentment as he pulled her down.

  “No.” She sank to her knees. “I wouldn’t want to miss this.”

  Without the hurried frenzy that had marked their previous couplings, Jacob was satisfied to move his lips slowly over her body, lolling over her nipples, lapping at her neck, grinning with every faint oh he elicited from her. And she made it a lot. Could it really be that she’d never oh-ed for anyone else?

  “Have I told you how much I love it when you make that little noise?” he asked as he sucked on her pinkie finger while stroking her clit.

  “Jesus, Jacob,” she gasped as he slowly climbed between her legs, his finger still rubbing.

  “That works too, but the other noise is better.” He grinned as he dove in.

  It didn’t seem possible that this—she—was better every time, but she was. Her every move, no matter how small, grabbed him anew, tightening the web she’d cast around him until the bonds were unbreakable.

  Patiently, he brought her up to the edge of collapse several times with his long strokes, only to alter his rhythm ever so slightly and cool her intensity. Finally, unable to hold anything back in her shivering embrace, he arched his back and came quietly.

  “Not… fair…” She panted as he curled up beside her.

  “Huh?”

  “You don’t make any noise,” she muttered. “It’s not fair. How do I know if I’m as good as you are?”

  “Mmm,” he hummed in her ear as she rested on his arm, his other hand wrapped around her breast. She fit in his embrace perfectly. Like she belonged there. “I could tell you that you’re an amazing woman.”

  “You already say that,” she scolded.

  “I could tell you you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

  “Your selection has been limited,” she parried.

  God, he loved that fearless mouth of hers. Somehow, it made him want to be stronger. “How about I tell you that I never thought I’d find a woman as perfect as you are?”

  “Too general,” she groused with a smile. “And a bold-faced lie. I’m so far from perfect it’s not even in the same zip code.”

  He thought for a moment, struggling to come up with the right thing—something enough, but not too much. Not yet. “Mary Beth, if I had this—” he said as he ran his hand down her thigh and back up to her breast “—to look forward to every night for the rest of my life, I would be a contented man.”

  For a moment, she was speechless. She didn’t get speechless often, and he didn’t want to get her hopes up, but he meant it, every single word. If even Tommy could see it, there was no sense in denying it any more.

  If it wasn’t for that damn whatever was out there… Maybe one day.

  Finally, her mouth recovered. “That’s not too bad,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “Good,” he chuckled, relieved to have finally said the right thing, “because that’s the best I’ve got.”

  “Are you ever going to show me what you look like without your mask?” she asked, her voice still a bit jittery.

  “Why should I?”

  “Jacob.” She rolled over, looking him in the eye. “Don’t you ever get tired of hiding? You spend all day hiding behind that mask and all night hiding Kip. One day, she’s not going to need to hide any more. What about you?”

  He sighed as he stroked her hair, moving his fingers easily through the soft waves. “I guess I’ll know when the day comes.”

  “Today isn’t the day,” she nodded as she kissed his homemade nose.

  “What about you?”

  “I’m not hiding.”

  He smirked at her. “Sure you are. You’ve got to have a reason why you’re here, and why you’ve stayed. Most women would have left about ten minutes after Buck threatened them the first time, but you? You take it in stride. Why are you here?”

  Now it was Mary Beth’s turn to sigh. “I’m not hiding.”

  “Not with that mouth anyway,” he snickered as he stole a quick kiss.

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged as she shot him a cross look. “I loved summers on the farm. Loved it. The times we lived in an apartment, I couldn’t wait to get back to the farm when I was a kid.”

  Jacob propped up on his elbow and looked down at her. When she lived in an apartment? He thought she was a born-and-bred farm girl. She’d told him once it was complicated. Maybe he hadn’t heard what she was really saying.

  “But I’m the fifth generation of the same family to live in that house—and Annie’s kids are at least the sixth to live on the land,” she continued. “Some days, it just felt—I don’t know—crowded, like you couldn’t turn around without running into a ghost or something.”

  That didn’t make any sense—his people had been on this land for thousands of years—but he wanted to understand, so he carefully asked, “You left because too many people slept in your bed?”

  “No.” She sighed in frustration before she tried again. “I just felt like so many other people had laid claim to the farm that it wasn’t my place. Annie’s husband—John—he’s farming his family’s land and ours together with my Uncle Hank. The farm didn’t need me anymore, not after Granny died.”

  “You miss her.” He curled into her arm.

  “I miss them all. I just thought that—” she took a deep breath, trying not to tear up. “I just thought that when I got here, I’d find the place where I belonged.”

  Jacob nodded against her shoulder. He’d always known he belonged here, even when it wasn’t clear what he wanted. But he remembered when Ronny came back from Iraq. It had taken him a long, long time to find where he belonged. But he didn’t want to worry about any of that right now. He wanted to be with Mary Beth.

  All he wanted was to be with Mary Beth.

  Maybe he belonged with her. And maybe she really did belong here with him. But he didn’t want her to cry again, so he changed the subject. “Did that vision include shag carpeting?”

  She giggled as she looked over at the high pile. “Bill set me up, remember?”

  “I remember.”

  They fell silent for a moment. “Jacob?” she murmured.

  “Yes, babe?” It came so easily now.

  She beamed at the babe. “How long will you and Kip stay? Not an ultimatum, just a question.”

  “As long as we need to,” he replied with a yawn.

  “Stay as long as you like.” And with another kiss, she pulled free of his heavy arms and slipped Garfield back over her head. “I’ll be here. I promise.”

  “Goodnight,” he sleepily replied as he reached up and grabbed the revolver and carefully placed it next to his head.

  She folded the blanket back over his body and kissed his forehead. “Goodnight, Jacob.”

  And the door shut silently behind her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Wednesday at the ranch was normal to the point of dull. They tagged and vaccinated new calves, and she checked on a few young mustangs that were being broken in. All in all, a remarkably unremarkable day.

  But that didn’t quiet the pit of impending doom that took up residence in Mary Beth’s gut and refused to budge.

  “Are you okay?” Jacob asked for the four hundredth time that day.

  “I just feel odd, that’s all. Have you checked on Kip yet?” she replied again.

  “Relax, Mary Beth, please,” he said as he rubbed her shoulder. “You’re making me nervous. I called twenty minutes ago, and everything was fine.”

  “Well, unless you’ve got something else you need me to look at, I’m going to go ge
t her.”

  “Fine with me. I’ll be home around 5:30 or so, okay?”

  Despite the butterflies in her belly, Mary Beth beamed at him. “I’ll have dinner started. You like turkey chili?”

  He made a face as they hefted her packs into the truck that made her giggle. But as she was climbing into the cab, a shout cut across the lots.

  “Jacob! Mary Beth! Come quick!”

  Mary Beth stepped back out of the Ram to see Nobody riding hard across the lots, a look of terror on his face.

  In a heartbeat, Jacob was out of the barn and on Mick. Mary Beth grabbed the vet pack she’d just tossed into the truck bed and threw it back on poor Jezebel, who had already started cropping grass.

  “What?” Jacob demanded as they waited for Mary Beth to mount up.

  “Cattle,” Nobody panted. “Something cut them up.”

  “What?” they gasped in unison.

  “Something attacked some cattle. I was trying to find a horse that went missing—and I found cattle.” Mary Beth realized that the Indian was terrified, his eyes darting back and forth as his head constantly checked their surroundings. “I found Tommy first. Sent him out with your hands. Told him I’d get you.”

  Without another word, Jacob slid down and sprinted back into the barn. When he came flying back out, he had a rifle in his hand and his Colt belted on.

  “How bad?” he asked as they kicked the horses to the hills.

  “Bad,” Nobody said. “At least three are dead, and it seems like the rest had their hamstrings cut.”

  “Sonofabitch,” Jacob muttered, kicking Mick on.

  “Rustlers?” Mary Beth shouted.

  “Can’t be,” Nobody shouted back. “Rustlers don’t maim, they just steal.”

  As Mary Beth urged Jezebel on behind them, she stared at Jacob’s back, his body crouched and ready for a fight.

  She knew what maimed with a knife, and so did he.

  The shadow thing was out there and it wanted their undivided attention.

  It took fifteen minutes to get to the field filled with bleating, screaming cattle. Tommy and the other cowboys were herding the remaining animals away, but some animals were standing near their downed companions, lowing in sorrow.

  Jacob flung himself off Mick and threw the rifle to Tommy in one smooth motion. “Perimeter check. Go with Nobody. Shoot anything that isn’t a cow or a cowboy.”

  “Done.” And he was gone.

  “Jacob, we didn’t see anything,” Paul shouted as he rode back to herd the remaining walking cattle away. “We swear, we wouldn’t have let anyone do this to them.”

  The scene was horrific. A revolting smell of rotting sage and blood mingled with the fresh scent of fear and blood. Ten cattle were scattered around the trees. Some were nearly decapitated, their heads being held on by a few tendons or skin. A few were still alive, their back legs pitifully splayed out behind them, the flesh flayed to the bone. They had no chance. The thing had left them for dead.

  “Can any of them be saved?” Jacob asked as Mary Beth slowly walked around with her mouth open, unable to comprehend the senseless destruction of animals.

  “Jesus Christ, Jacob.”

  “Mary Beth!” he snapped. “Look at me! Can any of them be saved? Focus!”

  “Um, let me—um,” she stuttered. A sad bleat caught her ear, and she looked over to see a small calf hobble out of the woods, blood running down its side. “This one’s still up. If it can’t stand, I can’t save it,” she said, her medical brain finally clicking on.

  Jacob whipped his .45 out from the holster, and seconds later the pop of bullets putting animals out of their misery echoed through the timber.

  The screaming of cattle got louder as the pain and panic passed through the ones still clinging to life. The calf began to snort in panic, but she held the tiny thing to her as she inspected the wound. Though the cut was three inches long, the blade had only gone in an inch. Maybe Nobody had interrupted before the thing had been able to finish this one, she thought as she packed the wound with ointment and hastily began stitching the hide shut.

  “Not permanent,” she soothed the terrified calf when it whined in pain as the needle passed through its flesh. “I’ll make it better later, okay? You are still alive, little guy.”

  “Holy shit!” Jacob screamed behind her.

  “What? What is it?” she yelled as the calf burst free from her hands. Tommy and Nobody came flying back out of the forest.

  “Jacob! What?”

  Jacob was standing over a dead cow, its throat cut back to the spine, its belly flayed open to the ribcage. It looked like a cow on a slaughter line, but there was something different.

  The cow had no nose, and one eye had been cut out.

  It looked a hell of a lot like Jacob.

  He stood there and shook like a child. “Holy shit,” he cried again, stuck in a personal hell.

  Now it was Mary Beth’s turn. “Jacob! Look at me!”

  “It’s a message, Mary Beth. It’s a message!” He finally got his eye focused on her face, and at the same time, they realized what the message was.

  “Kip,” she whispered.

  “Go!” he urged as he threw himself onto Mick. “Tommy, finish! Get the calf and finish! Nobody—Rebel!” he shouted as he and Mary Beth raced to the town below. Nobody took off in the opposite direction. Normally, she might be scared of the dangerous man, but not today. Today, she was glad that he was on her side.

  Mary Beth tried not to focus on the sickening nausea that wanted to overpower her as they raced past trees and cut through forest, taking the direct route to town. The thing—shadow or man or demon, she didn’t know and didn’t care—had set the trap and they’d ridden right into it.

  God, she nearly sobbed as the guilt washed over her, if only I’d gone to get Kip earlier. Please, God or the ancestors or whoever is listening, please let her be okay. Please don’t let it be that thing.

  But as much as she wanted to curl up and hide from the horror, she knew that Kip needed her. She had to keep it together if she wanted to keep Kip alive.

  Cutting across the land, it took less than ten minutes to get to the valley, and immediately, Mary Beth knew they were too late.

  The main drag was filled with people carrying buckets up from the river as the lone fire truck in the county hosed down the flaming remains of the schoolhouse.

  Jacob got Mick as close to the schoolhouse as he could before he launched himself into the flames.

  “Jacob, no!” Ronny called from his position at the head of the bucket brigade. “You’ll get burnt!”

  “He’s got to get Kip, he’s got to get Kip,” Mary Beth prayed. “He’s got to get Kip. Please, God, let him get Kip.”

  Seconds passed to minutes as the townsfolk pulled buckets from the river and the three volunteer firefighters all worked to douse the flames.

  “Please, God,” Mary Beth prayed as Jezebel panted beneath her, “Please, God. Let him get Kip.”

  “There he is!” Ronny shouted as he threw a bucket of water in the doorway. The flames died down just enough for Jacob to run through them, his ankles smoking as he gasped for air. He threw the body he carried on the ground.

  It wasn’t Kip.

  “Mrs. Browne?” Ronny screamed at her. “Are you okay?”

  “She’s dead. It cut her throat,” Jacob sputtered as Ronny threw a bucket of water over his head. Jacob sizzled as the water evaporated from the heat of his clothes.

  “What?” Ronny took a step back, paling. “It? It who cut her throat?”

  For a split second, Jacob dripped with sorrow as the water ran off his hair. But the look vanished, replaced with a cold, calculating fury. “Ronny,” he growled, “lock everything down. It’s got Kip.”

  “It who?” Ronny demanded again. “Jacob, this shit isn’t funny, it—”

  Jacob threw himself back onto Mick. “Shoot to kill, Ronny. I’m going to get her back.”

  “Where are we going?” Mary Beth s
houted as they headed back out of the valley, leaving the fire and the dead teacher behind them at a full gallop. Storm clouds billowed up out of nowhere, darkening the sky in seconds.

  “Shit.” He slowed. “It’s got her and I don’t even know—”

  The sky flashed with lightning like a bolt of inspiration. The scene of the crime—a dark house with dark stains on the floor. Whatever this thing was, it’d want to finish what it started, where it started it. Mary Beth grabbed Jacob’s arm. “Her house,” she said. “It took her to her old house.”

  Jacob nodded and urged Mick back up to a dead run.

  “How long?” she shouted over the wind rushing up with the surprise storm.

  “Thirty, forty minutes,” he called back. “It had maybe a twenty, thirty-minute head start.”

  “Go faster,” Mary Beth whispered to Jezebel. “Go faster.”

  The land flew by as the horses raced against the clock. Tree limbs reached out, smacking her in the face and arms, but she paid no heed to the cuts. A few times, Jezebel started to stumble, but Mary Beth counter-shifted her weight, keeping the horse up by sheer will alone. The clouds burst open, making the darkening night even harder to see through, but the lightning that scored the sky was just enough that she could keep track of Jacob urging Mick on ahead of her.

  Mary Beth wasn’t sure where they were, but when they splashed through the swelling creek bed, she knew they were close.

  The house was just over the next ridge.

  Jacob pulled the wheezing Mick into a slow walk, his gun drawn, his ears listening as they approached the silent and dark house.

  Mary Beth looked up at the wet, ink-black sky, the lightning jumping from cloud to cloud, and the earth shook from the thunder.

  There was a sound off to the right from deeper in the woods. In the blink of an eye, Jacob was on the ground, racing toward it, gun and knife drawn, looking for all the world like a true Lakota warrior.

  And Mary Beth was alone on Jezebel, the tired animal’s sides still heaving at the effort. The lightning cracked again. Kip had to be here—didn’t she? And if she was here, she’d be inside.