She wasn’t sure if it was the knife coming at her waist or the bull charging the fence from a hundred feet away that jump-started her vocal cords.
Her scream cut off abruptly at the sound of ripping material. “My beautiful gown!” Her eyes darted between the bull and the knife hacking away at the dress as the ground shook beneath her heels.
The cowboy swore when the blade got tangled in the material. The bull was charging at full speed now, and she wasn’t sure her legs would hold her up much longer. The animal drew close enough for her to see his angry red eyes and smell his rank odor.
Just as the beast bellowed, the knife broke through the material and the cowboy flung her away from the fence. Inches from the barbed wire, the bull skidded to a stop, kicking up a cloud of dust. Madeline stared in alarm at the animal’s flaring nostrils and the drool hanging from his massive mouth. The beast dropped his heavy head and backed up.
She could have died if it hadn’t been for the quick thinking of the man next to her. She threw herself at him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she mumbled against his skin. Legs shaking, stomach quaking, she breathed in the scents of soap, leather and man. She rubbed her cheek against his neck, enjoying the scratchy feel of beard stubble.
“Daddy, is she a real princess?”
The fingers clutching Madeline’s waist bit into her.
She glanced over her shoulder and spotted a little dark-haired girl with a chocolate ring around her mouth. Oh, my. Jake Montgomery was a father. Which meant he was married. The sting of disappointment surprised her.
The hands at her waist moved her away from him. Embarrassed, she fingered the lace garter around her thigh. It could be worse. She could have been wearing bikini panties or a thong, instead of the tap pants, which were basically a feminine version of boxer shorts. She scowled at the spectators, who had their gazes glued to her fanny, then faced her rescuer and stamped her heel. “How could you do that?”
His eyes narrowed. “Do what? Save your life?”
“That was a three-thousand-dollar dress you just cut to pieces!” She took a tentative step toward the fence and reached for the material. The rangy old bull had other ideas. He shuffled forward and skewered the material with a wicked-looking horn, then backed up. A loud rip filled the air as the animal tugged the satin skirt through the barbed-wire fence.
Horrified, Madeline gaped as the beast trotted away, the gown hanging from a horn like a war trophy.
SHE WAS THE DAMNEDEST female Jake Montgomery had ever seen.
Facing the fence, the half-naked redhead planted her fists on her scantily clad hips and shouted obscenities at the bull as he trotted off with half her dress.
If Cyclone knew what was good for him, he’d make himself scarce. At least until the fiery temptress left the area. At the raucous laughter behind him, Jake checked his watch. He’d wasted more time than he could afford. Sliding his sunglasses on, he faced the onlookers.
Billy Boyle spit a stream of tobacco juice at the ground. “She need a lift somewhere, Montgomery?”
When Jake glanced over his shoulder, the bride shuddered. “I’ll see to it she gets help.”
Boyle whistled through badly yellowed teeth. “Yeah, I can guess what kind of help you’ll be offerin’, Montgomery.”
Five sets of eyes devoured the bride, and for some crazy reason that ticked Jake off. She wasn’t his lady, so why did he care who stared at her silk-covered thighs and sexy torso? He shifted to the side, blocking the rednecks’ view. “Show’s over. Hit the road.”
He kept his back to the beauty until the men climbed into their pickups and drove off. A moment later, Ricky galloped away on his horse. By noon today, the town would be buzzing with gossip about the bride stuck to his barbed-wire fence. He turned to his daughter. “Annie, go get in the truck. Now.” With a little huff, she spun away and did as she was told.
“Are you really going to help me?” the woman asked.
Jake bristled. “I said I would.”
“Well, you don’t seem very happy about it.”
He whirled. “Lady, you picked a hell of a time to tangle with my fence.” He forgot the rest of what he’d been about to say as a jolt of desire shot through him. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had had this kind of effect on him.
Concealed by the mirrored glasses, he drank in the sight of her. He dragged his eyes from the front of the gown and skimmed over her narrow waist and slim hips on down the length of her long, long legs. Legs encased in white silk stockings and a garter belt with the sexiest little rose-colored buckles he’d ever seen. She looked as if she’d just stepped off the pages of a Victoria’s Secret catalog.
Her snooty nose poked in the air. “When you’re finished leering, do you think you might get some gas for my car?”
Jake pressed his lips together to keep from chuckling. The fiery hair must be her natural color. Matched her temper. Maybe the missing groom was smarter than he’d assumed after all.
“I don’t have time to get gas for your car.” He headed for the truck. The sooner he got away from the woman the safer he’d feel.
“You’re kidding, right?”
He heard an indignant huff and bit back a grin. “Nope. I’ve got to be in Pocatello in two hours.”
“But…”
Jake glanced over his shoulder and smothered a laugh. Wobbling on her heels, the bride followed, picking her way between clumps of weeds and prickly cactus.
“I’ll call the sheriff on my cell phone.”
“You can’t leave me out here all alone.”
“A deputy will arrive shortly.”
“I don’t have any clothes!”
Damned if he didn’t want to ask her why the hell she was out in the middle of nowhere with no clothes but a torn wedding dress. But he wouldn’t. The less he knew the better. He halted by the passenger door. Annie was half hanging out the window, her eyes round with curiosity. Gently, he set his palm against her forehead and coaxed her back into the truck. “Sit down, Annie. We’re leaving in a minute.”
He opened the toolbox in the truck bed and rummaged around for the old set of clothes he kept in case he had to rescue a cow bogged down in mud, or some other emergency. Who’d have thought he’d be loaning the clothes to a runaway bride?
He sensed the moment she stepped behind him. And it wasn’t because of the curses she muttered. He could smell her. A soft, sweet odor that made him think of naked bodies entwined on cool cotton sheets in a dark room. He breathed deeply, appreciating the feminine scent. It had been a long time since he’d smelled a woman up close. Until now he hadn’t realized how much he missed it.
“I’m not staying behind with those two sleazy rednecks on the loose.”
He eyed the proud tilt of her head and her pursed little mouth. He hated to admit it, but she was probably right. Boyle was a sleaze of the worst kind. Before he could say a word, her chin started to quiver, and he felt like a heel. He hadn’t pegged her for a bawl-your-eyes-out kind of woman, but obviously the lady had had about as much as she could take for one day. He shoved the pair of jeans and shirt at her. “Here.”
Her nose curled. “What are these for?”
Was she dense? “Cover yourself.”
She fingered the hem of the shirt. His skin prickled as if those fingers were actually touching him. One thing for sure, he doubted the material would feel the same against his body after today.
“Look, lady. That’s all I’ve got. Take it or leave it.” He walked to the driver’s side and reached for his cell phone on the seat, then dialed the sheriff’s department.
“Hattie. Jake Montgomery. I’ve got a stranded motorist along my property line north of the turnoff to the ranch. Can you send Karl out with some gas?” The answer wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear and he hung up.
“Is he coming?” She clutched the clothes to her chest and glared at him across the hood of the truck.
“No. There’s b
een a bad accident east of here and the patrol cars are tied up.” A tight knot formed between his shoulders. “You’ll have to ride along with me.”
“Can’t you drop me off in town on your way to wherever it is you’re going?”
“Nope. Don’t have time.” He opened the driver’s-side door. “You coming or not?”
She spun on her heels, went to the car, removed her purse and keys, then stomped back to the truck and slid onto the front seat.
“Are you a real princess?” his daughter asked.
“Annie Jane,” Jake warned as he cranked the engine. He almost put the truck in reverse when a warm smile replaced the redhead’s shocked expression. Under any circumstance the woman would be considered gorgeous, but the smile she bestowed upon his daughter revealed two very endearing dimples, softening her features, making her downright irresistible.
The bride stroked Annie’s mussed hair. “I’m not a princess, sweetie. I’m a bride. But if I were looking for a princess, I’d think you were one.”
Jake stepped on the gas pedal and started down the road. How could he leave the lady after she’d made his daughter smile? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Annie Jane’s face light up with such pleasure. “Buckle up.”
The bride helped Annie secure the belt, then did her own, wiggling her sassy fanny on the seat until she had those blasted satin short things arranged just so.
“What are those for?” Annie asked.
Jake glanced sideways and caught his daughter playing with the little rose snaps on the bride’s garter belt. He stared at the expanse of creamy white thigh and shifted uncomfortably against the seat.
“Watch out!” The bride braced her hands against the dashboard.
Jake jerked his attention back to the road and wrenched the wheel to the right seconds before the truck would have drifted into the oncoming lane. The over-correction caused the horse trailer to swerve violently, and he struggled a good ten seconds to get the trailer and truck under control. A sweat broke out across his forehead that had nothing to do with his reckless driving and everything to do with his reckless thoughts. “Aren’t you going to put those damn clothes on?”
The bride ignored him, offering a tender smile to Annie. “Those are called garters. They keep the stockings from falling down. But I’m afraid the stockings are ruined.”
The least he could do was offer the woman an apology, since she was being nice to his daughter. “Sorry about Cyclone.”
“Cyclone? That nasty bull has a name?” She gazed out the side window as though searching for the recalcitrant animal.
“Yep,” Annie answered for him. “He’s real old. Daddy can’t sell him ’cause no one wants him.”
“Well, I can understand that. How old are you, Annie?”
“Five. How old are you?”
Good question, Annie. Jake kept his eyes on the road, determined not to let his gaze wander. For all the good it did. The lower half of the bride’s body reflected off the windshield.
“I’m twenty-five.”
He glanced across the seat and frowned. Her skin was as smooth as a baby’s butt. She didn’t appear a day over nineteen.
“What’s your name?”
Keep up the good work, Annie, and we’ll find out all kinds of things about the bride before we get to Pocatello.
“Madeline Tate. You can call me Ms. Madeline if you’d like.”
Madeline. Sounded snooty. It fit, though. By the looks of the gown she’d been wearing he’d say she came from money. He cleared his throat. “Exactly where were you headed when you ran out of gas?”
She waved her hand in the air by her head and shrugged. “I don’t know. I just wanted to get as far away from Vegas as possible.”
The slight tremor in her voice reminded him of how his daughter sounded when he’d gone and stepped on her feelings. “Do you live in Vegas?” Part of him wanted to learn as much about her as he could. He suspected it was the part of him that wouldn’t settle down in his pants.
“No. I’m from Seattle. I work for an ad agency there.”
Some of the excitement at discovering her attached to his fence died down. “I guess you’ll head back to Seattle once you gas up.”
She nibbled her lower lip. “Not necessarily. I took a three-week leave of absence from my job to get married.”
“What about family?”
A bitter laugh escaped her mouth before she drew in a deep breath, then exhaled in one burst of air. “It’s just my father and I. He’s in Canada on business.”
“You didn’t invite your father to your wedding?”
She picked at a run in her stocking. “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
Spur of the moment with a gown like that? “What about friends?”
“The last thing I want to do right now, Mr. Montgomery, is face my friends.” She crossed her legs, and he clenched the wheel to keep the truck steady.
“So you’re searching for a place to hole up and lick your wounds for a while.”
Her firm little chin jutted in the air. “Exactly.”
“Then what?”
Her hands fisted in her lap. “Then I plan to find that…that—” she glanced at Annie “—groom and tell him exactly what I think of him.”
Man, he’d like to be there when she laid into the guy. How could any man leave a woman like Madeline Tate standing at the altar? “So what do you think of him?” He shrugged at her wide-eyed stare. Hell, she’d be curious, too, if their positions were reversed.
“Was your groom as handsome as a prince?” Jake winced at the rapturous look on his daughter’s face when she asked the question.
“Yes, he was handsome. A handsome prince with blond hair.”
She preferred blondes. What was it with women and men with blond hair? If you asked him, they were a bunch of prissies. “Annie, don’t pry.”
Thank God his daughter ignored him. “Is he gonna come rescue you?”
The bride sighed. “I’m afraid not, Annie. I’m on my own now.”
“My daddy can be your prince. He can rescue you.” Annie yanked on his shirtsleeve. “Won’t you, Daddy?”
Before he could form an answer, the redhead’s light laughter filled the cab. “Annie, I think your dad has his very own princess already.”
“He does?”
Madeline smiled indulgently. “Why, your mother, of course. She’s his princess.”
Silence filled the truck as Annie stared at the half-eaten cookie in her lap. The bride sent him an anxious glance. “My wife, Sara, died three years ago.” Three years that felt like ten, he admitted. Even though he and Sara hadn’t had the best marriage, he still missed her presence in the house, the nice things she did for him, like straightening his dresser drawers or cleaning off his mud-caked boots. Things she did for him because she couldn’t give him what he’d wished for in the privacy of their bedroom.
The quiet gasp was worse than any apology. The bride’s expression softened with sympathy as she took Annie’s hands and squeezed gently. “I’m so sorry about your mother, sweetie.”
Jake kept his gaze on the road, not willing to risk seeing sympathy or anything close to pity in the siren’s green eyes.
“So it’s just you and your dad? Or do you have brothers and sisters?”
“I ain’t got—”
“Don’t have.” Both he and the bride spoke in unison, then stared at each other and smiled.
“I don’t have no brothers or sisters.”
Jake felt her gaze on him but refused to elaborate. He didn’t owe the woman any explanations. She’d be out of his hair in another few hours, and by the end of the day she’d be out of his mind. Yeah, right.
“Who takes care of you when your father is working?”
“Ms. Catherine. But she quit.”
“Quit?”
“Annie, I doubt Ms. Tate wants to hear about our problems.”
“She told Daddy her sister broke something, and she gots to go help her.”<
br />
Broke something? His daughter made it sound like a dish. “Her hip.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I hope her sister recovers quickly.”
Annie nodded. “Now Daddy gots to take me everywhere.”
A knot formed in Jake’s gut at the prospect of having to watch Annie every minute of the day while trying to train eight cutting horses for the Bar S Ranch. The Bar S was one of the wealthiest ranches in Idaho. If the owner, Sam William, was impressed with the horses, he’d recommend Jake’s training talents to other prominent ranchers in the area. And Jake needed the business. Desperately.
If only Little Bear, his ranch hand and second best horse trainer in the state of Nevada, hadn’t decided now was a good time to go on a traditional Blackfoot vision quest with his people, Jake wouldn’t be in this mess. As it was, he’d be breaking his back to get those roans trained in three months. And he for sure wouldn’t make it if he had to watch over his daughter every second of the day.
He wasn’t aware of time passing, or how many miles they’d driven, before he noticed Annie had quit firing questions at the bride. He felt a sting of jealousy at the sight of his daughter, asleep, with her head in the bride’s lap. Madeline stared out the window, her pink-painted nails stroking Annie’s head.
He swallowed the lump of emotion clogging his throat. If he were better at this father business, his daughter would snuggle against his side, not a stranger’s right now. He fought the feeling of guilt that always simmered inside him when he thought about his lack of parenting skills. When Annie had been born, he’d vowed he wouldn’t be the same kind of father his old man had been. He’d vowed to spend time with his daughter, to always be there for her. To be someone she could count on.
“What kind of ranch do you have, Mr. Montgomery?”
At the sound of the question, his self-deprecating thoughts scattered. “Jake. Call me Jake.”
“Okay. If you call me Madeline.”
He nodded. “I train cutting horses.”
“Cutting horses?”
“Cattle horses. They’re used to move cattle.”
“Is that where you’re headed right now? To pick up these cutting horses?”
The Cowboy and the Bride Page 2
