Cowboy on the Run

by Devon McKay

  “And to think, I first thought it was the lightning startling the cattle into stampeding.” Doyle took a long thoughtful draw on his coffee. “I suppose it could have been either, but I’m favoring the snake theory. We’ll have to check over the steers in the morning to be sure.”

  She studied the man’s weathered face as thousands of questions raced through her head. “Check the steers?”

  “For snakebites,” he said, directing his answer toward her.

  Jessie gasped, the reality of the night dawning on her.

  “Pardon my bluntness, Ms. Jessie, considering your dad’s in the hospital and all,” Doyle apologized.

  She brushed aside his concern with a wave of her hand.

  “What I can’t figure out is where the damn snakes came from in the first place,” William interjected, redirecting her attention back to him. “Worked this land for sixty some years, twenty of them right here on this spread, and I’ve never seen as many rattlers in one spot before.” He scratched his head. “Hell, I ain’t seen that many snakes in my lifetime.”

  “That’s a blessing,” Rosita interjected, topping off his coffee. “Snakes come from the devil himself.” Her top lip sneered in distaste.

  “You got that right. They’re evil.” The foreman nodded his head in complete agreement, volunteering a supportive pat on her backside.

  “You are, too, William McCredie!” Rosita protested, slapping his shoulder with her free hand.

  The playful bickering between the two of them caused Jessie to smile. She stole a glance at Nate, who happened to be standing at the head of the table, his expression unreadable and his arms crossed over his chest.

  “It’s just weird, that’s all,” Doyle added, without a second glance at the open display of affection between the two lovebirds. “It’s almost as if they’d been planted here. It’d be a good idea to have the boys scour the pasture as soon as the sun comes up to search for more rattlers.” He scratched his head. “It’s just strange, as if someone put them on the ranch on purpose...almost as if the stampede was intentional.”

  Jessie gasped, overlooking his mention of boys and her pasture. Instead, she focused on the stampede. The notion someone had maliciously caused such an act had never entered her mind.

  “We need more coffee, wench,” William barked at Rosita, softening the order with a flirtatious wink.

  “Yes, your highness,” she retorted sassily before heading into the kitchen to brew another pot.

  The moment she was gone, William’s playful smile disappeared. “And we never did figure out what killed three of our best steers, did we?”

  A grave fog of somberness filled the air. Jessie stood. The question lingering in the back corners of her mind was now brought out into the open, laid out like a large feast spread on her dining room table.

  “That’s enough,” Nate said, putting the topic to rest. “Look, it’s been a long night. We’re all tired. Let’s try to get some sleep and mull it over in the morning.” He shot a concerned glance in her direction. “You don’t mind if Doyle and I borrow your dad’s truck for the night, do you, Jess?”

  She shook her head and stared at the floor. What if the stampede had been intentional? Her head spun with hundreds of what if’s. But why on earth would anyone do such a thing? It just didn’t make any sense.

  They didn’t have any enemies. None she knew of. And it wasn’t as if there was some big corporation trying to buy her land, desperate to go to any means necessary to get her to sell.

  She allowed herself a meek smile at the direction of her thoughts. Nate was right. It had been a long night, and she was tired. Things would look different in the morning. Besides, at the moment, her brain was past the point of rational thoughts.

  Chapter 19

  Why bother even going to bed? Nate glanced up to the sky. Barely breaking dawn. He sighed, heading to the barn. He’d spent the last hour trying to convince his friend to leave as he’d planned, which he finally did just before sunrise.

  Might as well throw himself into work. The way his mind was racing, sleep would never come anyway. Nate had barely slept a wink since returning home, blaming it on Jessie, although now he had a different concern. His thoughts drifted back to the unexplained rattlesnakes.

  Something was going on. He just couldn’t figure it out. There had been way too many strange occurrences. He stabbed the pitch fork into the dirty hay, gathering a large scoop and placing it in the receiving wheelbarrow. And what had that been with Jessie last night? He gored the hay again.

  No, don’t think about that, he told himself, discovering the best way to get a woman off of his mind was to throw himself whole heartedly into work.

  Perhaps it was better this way. To walk away while they still had their pride intact. They were like fire and ice, too much push and pull in their relationship, not enough give and take, both of them too stubborn to forgive, unable to forget. There was just too much pain in their past, too many feelings of betrayal to go forward.

  “You’re up early.” Trent came up beside him, grabbing another pitchfork.

  “Haven’t been to bed yet,” he answered a little too sharp, using the twines of the pitch fork like a bayonet against the defenseless hay.

  “Worried?” The counselor filled his fork. “I forgot Doyle was leaving today.”

  “He already left.” Nate paused to wipe the sweat off his brow. He glanced at his watch. “Over an hour ago. Said he wanted to get an early start.” He shielded his eyes from the sun, facing the slim redheaded man, whose head nodded in agreement. “Besides, I think he missed Sandy.”

  His thoughts returned to Jessie. He knew what it felt like to miss a woman. Peeling himself away from her last night had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. What he wouldn’t give to see her pull down his drive.

  “Looks like we have company,” Trent said, pointing toward a truck heading their way.

  His pulse accelerated. Jessie?

  Even from this distance, he could see the driver was too tall. Disappointed, he continued working, taking out his frustration on the hay. After a few minutes, William came into view and parked the vehicle.

  “The ranch is starting to look promising,” he observed, getting out of the truck.

  Nate tossed another forkful. Using the farm tool as a support, he leaned his weight onto it. He took off his hat and wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his shirtsleeve.

  Following William’s gaze along the horizon, he noticed a hazy gray ribbon swirling above the Calhoun ranch. Nate watched mesmerized for several minutes, never before witnessing a cloud move quite like this one seemed to. It took a minute to register...

  Smoke.

  Jessie’s ranch was on fire!

  Speechless, Nate pointed and spared a quick glance at William. For the second time in two days, fear registered in the older man’s eyes.

  “Go. Please hurry, Nate,” the foreman urged, his voice frantic with worry. “I’ll call the fire department.”

  Nate was two steps ahead, running for the barn and his horse. He called out to the boys for help, and they all piled into the back of her dad’s borrowed pick-up as Trent slid in behind the steering wheel.

  Spurring J.W. on at a reckless speed, he raced across the fields to the Calhoun ranch. Faster by horse than by driving, it still seemed to take hours to cross the mere mile separating the two ranches.

  By the time he hit the front pasture, the barn was fully engulfed in flames, the harsh smell of smoke thick in the air, greeting him with its menacing presence.

  J.W. bucked in response. Halting to a sudden stop, the horse raised his front legs in mutiny. Nate held on tight as the beast, wild-eyed and frightened, refused to go any closer to the fire.

  Jumping down, he slapped J.W.’s hind quarters and the horse galloped back in the direction of the Walker land. Nate returned his attention to the barn as the bright orange and yellow flames bled together, devouring the aged wood. The building was going up quick. If he didn’t
get control of the fire, the house could go up next.

  Nate shot a glance at the house, then back to the barn. The dry wood, brittle from time, proved futile resistance. Suddenly, he caught a brief glimpse of someone in the center of it all, the feminine silhouette a dark shadow even with the blinding light of the flames.

  Jessie!

  A jolt of panic flushed through his veins. Scouring the exits, he refused to allow the fear to take over. The front of the barn, facing him, would be impossible to get through, the flames high and volatile barely tasting the wood it rapidly consumed. The back exit of the barn looked even more death inspiring.

  Her chances of survival were slim to none.

  Jessie was trapped.

  Chapter 20

  Jessie’s lungs ached, her throat itchy and raw as she struggled for breath, the acrid smoke filling her chest. The whole barn was in flames, and she was in the middle of it, the heat scalding her skin. But she was alive, for the moment.

  She tried to clear her vision, to see through the heavy layer of thick smoke as her eyes blurred and burned, and her throat threatened to close up. Coughing, her throat rebelled in pain; her lungs screamed for fresh air. How had the barn gone up in flames so fast? Thank god she’d been able to unstable the horse, but now she was...

  Trapped.

  Jessie froze, comprehending the daunting truth of her situation...looking death square in the face.

  The bright headlights of Nate’s truck caught her attention, and she sighed in desperate relief. Ironic, she thought as she was bound to the barn, flooded with thoughts of him and their children. With death knocking on her door, she had complete faith in him. Why did it take the thought of dying before she could trust him?

  Jessie’s legs refused to move. One thought circled in her head...this was it. She would die unless Nate was able to save her. Inhaling, she ignored the painful protest of her throat. A dark shadow appeared, and she heard J.W.’s neigh of protest as the horse reared upward trying to buck his rider off his back in fear.

  The odd detail of seeing the headlights of Nate’s truck on one side and him on the other was muddled together as her smoke-fogged mind played out parts of her life. Images of her kids, her dad...Nate’s smile, flashed like scenes from a home movie.

  An ear splitting sound raged above, swallowing the crackle of the fire and shaking the barn to its foundation. The splintering of wood suggested the roof was not going to hold much longer. Her gaze locked with Nate’s across the flames. And then he was gone as the flames licked higher and higher, blocking her view.

  Suddenly, a body crashed into her, and a wet, heavy blanket shrouded them. Despite her fearful protests, she let Nate shove her to the back door of the barn, and pushed through the circle of flames.

  She landed hard on the dirt, the weight of him on top of her stealing her breath. The damp horse blanket clung to her skin and steamed as if it were on fire. The heat of the covering scorched her ankles and bare legs as Nate rolled, tossing it off of them as Jessie began coughing, unable to inhale air.

  The thunder of the roof giving way stole her attention, and she gasped, sucking in a deep breath. Jessie stared at the collapsed structure in shock before locking her gaze with Nate. One more minute and she would have been crushed beneath the burning timber.

  She opened her mouth to tell him, but he placed a finger on her lips. His dark, sapphire gaze held her captive as the tender touch of his fingertips moved on, skimming across her cheekbones as if she were as delicate as fine china. She needed this, the feathery brush of his caress reinforcing the fact she was still alive.

  The warmth of his lips encompassed her mouth in a gentle kiss. The heat of his arms wrapped around her and she melted like soft butter in his possessive grip. The hardness of his body, molded firmly into hers, caused an intense sensation and unleashed a sudden surge of life-affirming yearning.

  Nate pulled back and gazed at her with a long, thoughtful stare. His fingers trailed along her exposed skin, burning her flesh with his molten touch, hotter than she could have imagined and several degrees higher than the blaze from the barn. Such sweet torment; she sighed, deeper in the depths of a fire now than she had been mere moments before.

  He kissed her again with a frantic urgency, his lips hungry, greedy for more. Aware only of Nate, she returned the kiss with equal passion as his lips, his scent, his entire essence overshadowed everything else.

  When he pulled away abruptly, Jessie read uncertainty in his stare. Hazy with desire, she forced herself not to reach for him, keeping a safe distance. This game they played was one of pure torture. And she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She loved him, despite the continuous justification her response had been from almost dying. Realizing how close she’d come to losing her life...

  Kissing him...had just been a natural reaction, she reasoned to absolve her actions. Tasting his lips simply cemented the fact she was still alive. As if life was still within her reach.

  Nate jumped to his feet. The loss of his body heat wasn’t quite as chilling as his angry glare.

  He extended his hand to help her to her feet. “What were you thinking, Jessie?”

  She stared at his hand blankly, unable to understand, stunned by his question and the abrupt change in demeanor. Needles of irritation prickled under her skin, and she shook her head. The man’s moods changed like the weather.

  “What are you talking about?” Refusing his assistance, she got to her feet on what was left of her reserved strength. Her limbs shook, and she questioned if her legs would be able to hold her own weight.

  She brushed off Nate’s attempt to help steady her by offering her his arm.

  “Why were you in the barn? Are you trying to kill yourself?”

  “No,” she answered him. “I was saving Lilly.”

  Her mind raced to the kids, and the possible consequences of her actions. Guilt tore at her. Such a foolish move almost cost her life. And her children their mother.

  As if reading her mind, Nate said, “Our kids are fine. William’s keeping an eye on them.”

  She nodded in relief, and reveled in the way he had said “our kids.” Would she ever get used to the sound of it?

  “Yeah, I saw him heading to your ranch then...” Her voice wavered as she stared at what was left of the barn. “What could have started the fire?” Her gaze was drawn to the many young men scattered around, every one of them armed with a bucket of water or a loaded shovel of dirt. Who were all these strangers?

  A faint memory of Nate mentioning a camp for boys resurfaced. She sucked in a relieved breath, thankful the fire was under control, no matter who was putting it out. The structure was now little more than a large mound of glowing embers with half a wall still standing, a reminder of how lucky she was.

  A thick, blackish-gray smoke hovered over their heads and ash filtered down from the sky like dirty snowflakes. She couldn’t stop her mind from trailing... Ashes to ashes... It could have been me.

  “I guess it depends. The barn was old, but it was in fairly good condition. You still store the majority of your hay in there? How much did you have crammed in this year?”

  She scowled. Of course, he would remember the way she had always been a notorious hoarder, storing as much hay as possible for the cold winter months.

  “Was the hay dry?”

  Her thoughts were still focused on how close she had come to her demise and hoping the amount of hay wasn’t responsible.

  “The hay, was it dry?” Nate asked again

  His irritation pulled her out of her thoughts, and she sucked in a deep breath. Every good rancher knew never to store damp hay—depending on a hot day and several other factors, it could combust. Which was probably what happened.

  Swallowing the doubt, she was certain the hay they’d stored the other day had been dry.

  The dozen snakes re-appeared in her mind, but she kept it to herself, not willing to consider someone had planted them and started her barn on fire. Too many coincidences. Too ha
rd to believe.

  “It looks like no one was hurt,” Nate stated, sparing a glance in her direction, an unconcealed expression of concern worn on his features. “Except for the barn.”

  Jessie’s attention returned to the stable, and her thoughts shifted to building a new structure.

  “Lucky for you, I have a bunch of boys who love to work.” Nate pointed to the group.

  Jessie nodded her head, returning her focus on the several young men still putting out the fire. Suddenly, everything began to make sense.

  “You introduced Doyle to me as heading the O-K Corral. I take it the Corral was a home for troubled teens?” The conversation she and Nate shared in his barn came to life again, and she shook her head in disbelief.

  When he had spoken of his plans, she’d made light of the confession, thinking it was simply another of his pipe dreams. Just one of many things he had often thought to do, but never followed through. Again, Nate surprised her.

  Shocked, Jessie realized how wrong she’d been. “I can’t believe it. You did it. You actually did it.” Proud of him, she realized how much he’d changed from a troubled teen himself to the man before her. “What was it you called them? Law benders?” She smiled at the memory.

  In an instant, her thoughts changed direction. With her mind still reeling, she searched for a reason the barn had gone up in flames, and the notion of stocking wet hay just wasn’t settling in well. Was it too much to question the possibility one of the boys could be at fault?

  “A candy bar my ass! Law breakers? They wouldn’t dare—” She stopped herself in mid-sentence, controlling the sudden surge of anger.

  “Wouldn’t dare what, Jessie?” Nate probed her to finish her sentence.

  “Set a barn on fire?” she questioned uneasily. Despite her doubts, a slight awareness such suspicions could be without warrant filtered through.

  Nate cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “What exactly are you implying, Jessie? How quick you forget they just put your barn fire out. Does that sound like criminals to you?” he snapped, walking away from her.