His Defender

by Stella Bagwell

  Walking down the long shed row, she exited the building and discovered Skinny outside in the shade, tacking a loose shoe on Trixie.

  The older man looked up as she approached. “Well, you’re up early this mornin’. Goin’ ridin’?”

  Skinny was short on words, but long on manners. Since she’d been on the ranch, he’d gone out of his way to show her around the barns and help her with anything she might need. Through Ross, she’d learned that Skinny had been on the ranch almost as long as Marina, and from the devotion the cowboy put into his job, she knew he would be here until he died.

  “Maybe later, Skinny. I want to have a look around first.” She glanced over toward the cattle barn. “Where is everybody? Did they not finish the vaccinating in the north meadow?”

  “Yep. They finished that job yesterday evening. There’re two or three guys around here somewhere, but Ross has most of ’em out workin’ the south flats. Had a bunch of steers to brand.”

  If she’d woken up when Ross had this morning, he might have lingered long enough to tell her of his day’s plans. He might have even told her how much last night had meant to him. But she’d slept right through and now she could only guess what he might be feeling.

  “Oh. Well, I think I’ll go have a look at the orphans and then I might ride out on the mesa.”

  He dropped the mare’s foot and straightened his back. “It’ll be a while before I’m finished with Trixie.”

  Heading toward the cattle barn, Isabella tossed over her shoulder. “That’s all right, Skinny. I’ll wait. Or I’ll ride another horse.”

  Except for a few mama cows penned near the entrance and bawling loudly, Isabella was relieved to see the big building was empty and quiet. She hurried down the dusty alleyway to the opposite end of the interior where Ross had moved the baby calves.

  A quick glance in their pen assured her that the two little Herefords were dry and content, both of them curled up asleep on a bed of straw.

  Leaving the calves, she walked over to the spot where Ross had initially left her standing last night when he’d gone to check on the water trough. Apparently someone had already picked up the fallen hay bales this morning and cleaned away the one that had broken and scattered over the ground.

  A dark, shadowy feeling swept over her as she gazed upward toward the open loft running the width of the building. In the morning light, she could see that the overhead space was jammed with tons of hay. All of the rectangular bales were neatly stacked, the first row starting at least two feet away from the ledge. She didn’t see how the bales could have fallen without someone deliberately pushing them. Ross must have known this. But she figured he must have played down the incident because he hadn’t wanted to frighten her.

  Had someone gone to the house, planning to do Ross harm, then left in a hurry when he’d heard her about to come into the kitchen. Had that someone then returned to the barn and found Ross there and deliberately waited for a chance to ambush him with the hay bales? It sounded too farfetched, too sinister to believe. Yet she couldn’t dismiss the idea. In fact, the strange incidents made her even more determined to get to the bottom of this whole crime.

  Leaving the barn, she walked back to where Skinny was working on Trixie’s shoes.

  “Skinny, were any of the cowboys out of the bunkhouse last night after the storm hit?”

  He glanced up at her as he positioned a horseshoe on the nose of an anvil iron. “Yeah. Four or five of them were gone to town. Didn’t come back ’til late.”

  She grimaced, then asked hopefully, “Were they all doing something together?”

  Shaking his head, he reached for a small hammer. “Don’t think so. Think they all had plans of their owns. Girlfriends, you know. The young ones can’t go without their women for too long.”

  So that meant it would be hard to narrow down who might have been in the barn, Isabella concluded. Any of the five could simply say they’d gone to Aztec and not one of them would know the difference.

  “Why you askin’?” Skinny wanted to know.

  Isabella let out a long sigh. “Oh, there was a little accident last night in the barn. Some hay bales fell and came close to hitting Ross on the head.”

  The man rose up to his full height and leveled an anxious gaze on Isabella. “Ross didn’t say anything about that happening this morning. Not to me or none of the other hands that I know of.”

  “Maybe he just wants to let things ride and wait for whoever it is to play their hand. I just—well, I’m very worried, Skinny. Please keep your eyes and ears open.”

  He patted her shoulder. “Now you quit frettin’ about it, Bella. Just go out and have a nice quiet ride and let Ross an’ me do all the worryin’.”

  She might as well, Isabella thought. Because right now there was nothing she could do about it, except try to piece all the clues together and hope something would click in her mind.

  “How much longer will it be before you’re finished with Trixie?” she asked him.

  Skinny dug a pouch of tobacco from his jeans pocket and placed a hefty pinch in his jaw. “Probably half an hour. She’s got a little chip in her toe that I want to rasp out. Why don’t you ride Juggler?”

  Isabella glanced thoughtfully in the direction of the remuda pen. “I noticed he was already saddled. Why isn’t Ross riding him?”

  “He planned on taking him this morning, but at the last minute he decided he’d used him pretty hard yesterday and he needed to give the horse a rest today. Some of the boys were supposed to have unsaddled him and turned him out. I guess they haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

  Frowning, Isabella looked back at the wiry old ranch hand. “If Juggler needs a rest, then Ross probably wouldn’t want me riding him,” she pointed out.

  Skinny laughed. “A little thing like you isn’t going to tire a horse like Juggler. Besides, you’re not going to be cutting cattle or doin’ any brush poppin’.”

  No, she was simply going to walk quietly out on the mesa, Isabella thought. Still, she hadn’t forgotten that first day she’d seen Juggler throw Ross in the dirt. She was a fairly decent horsewoman, but she couldn’t handle that kind of power if the gelding decided to put his back feet in the air.

  “I don’t know, Skinny,” she said doubtfully. “Juggler is a spirited horse. I’m not sure I can handle him.”

  “Has Ross told you not to ride him?” the cowboy asked.

  Ross had not only offered to let her ride Juggler, on several occasions he’d dared her to ride him, assuring her that the horse would never buck with a woman on him.

  Isabella shook her head. “No, but—”

  Skinny waved away anything else she’d been about to say. “Come on. I’ll walk down and help you mount him.”

  Five minutes into the ride, she was thrilled that Skinny had talked her into riding Juggler. He was a beautiful, stout horse with a smooth gait. Plus, he was Ross’s horse. Somehow that made riding him even more special. And so far he was acting like a complete gentleman.

  Smiling to herself, she leaned up in the stirrups and patted the gelding’s neck. “You’re a true beauty, Juggler. I don’t know why Ross is so obsessed with finding Snip when he has you.”

  The horse bobbed his head as if to agree with her. Isabella laughed softly then gave him an affectionate scrub between the ears. “Don’t worry, ol’ boy. We won’t go very far before we stop and rest. I just need to do a little thinking.”

  Actually, she needed to do a whole lot of thinking. About herself, about Ross, and about what last night was going to mean to their relationship. She wanted to believe that every caress, every whispered word he’d given her had been done with love. It had certainly felt that way. Especially after he’d made love to her a second time, then tucked her exhausted body in the curve of his and ordered her to sleep. But of course, she hadn’t slept. Not immediately. Instead she’d lain there basking in the warmth of his masculine body draped against hers, marveling at the rough yet tender way he’d aroused her t
o heights she’d never imagined. If she’d not already been in love with him, last night would have certainly pushed her over the brink. But knowing the depths of her feelings still didn’t tell her what to do about them.

  Ross was not a marrying man. He’d already told her so. And if she continued to stay here, she would no doubt wind up back in his bed, time after time. Would that be enough for her?

  I could never lie with him…unless he was my husband.

  The words she’d spoken to her godmother had pestered her all morning and now as she thought of them again, she groaned out loud. Thank God Naomi couldn’t see her at this moment, Isabella thought. She would no doubt take one look into her eyes and know that she had spent the night in Ross’s bed.

  You have looked upon the one you want for a mate. And when that happens you can’t change it.

  Naomi’s prophetic words seemed even wiser to Isabella now that she’d given her heart and her body to Ross. He was the only man she would ever want for a mate. And that could never be changed.

  With a heavy sigh, she leaned back in the stirrups to settle her weight in the seat of the saddle. At the same time, a popping noise exploded from somewhere beneath her. Frightened by the sound, Juggler reared high on his hind legs and pawed the air.

  The saddle listed violently to the right and Isabella screamed. Desperately, she clutched for a handhold and came up with a small clump of Juggler’s mane. But the weight of her body, along with that of the saddle, were too much to hold upright and she found herself hanging sideways on the horse’s body.

  “Whoa, Juggler! Whoa, boy!”

  The terrified horse ignored her commands and took off in a gallop, darting wildly around clumps of cacti and twisted juniper. Isabella’s hat fell to her back and her black hair streamed out behind her as wind, branches and twigs slapped her face.

  Horrified, Isabella continued to grip the horse’s mane as she tried to lever herself out of the useless saddle. But each time she attempted to pull her boots from the stirrups, the movement caused her to slip even further toward Juggler’s underbelly.

  Oh God, she was going to die! She was never going to see Ross again! Any second the horse was going to slam her into a pine tree or the saddle was going to fall completely. And at this rate of speed, her neck would be broken on impact.

  Praying desperately, she tried one last time to free her feet from the stirrups. She failed. And all hope inside her died. Now all she could do was hang on to Juggler’s mane and even that lifeline was rapidly slipping away.

  Across the wide mesa, Ross was cursing to himself as he glanced down at his burned palm. It wasn’t like him to grab a hot branding iron too low on the handle. The heat had seared all the way through his glove and charred the major part of his palm and a portion of his thumb.

  In spite of the injury, he’d tried to keep on working, but the rest of the work crew had insisted he ride back to the ranch and treat the burn with first aid. Not wanting to deal with a nasty infection, he’d finally agreed and set out toward the ranch.

  Wasted time, Ross thought grimly. But then, he only had himself to blame. Only a portion of his mind had been on his work. The major part had been on Isabella. Since he’d left her asleep in his bed this morning, his thoughts had been completely consumed with her.

  He’d felt badly about not waking her before he left the house. But when he’d slid out of bed shortly before dawn, she’d only been asleep a few short hours. And the truth of the matter was, he’d not been ready to face her with words.

  Last night had shaken him to the very center of his being, and he still wasn’t certain what had happened to him. No woman had ever made him feel the things Isabella had made him feel. No woman had ever burrowed under his skin and traveled straight to his heart. Even now, he still didn’t know what to think. And this morning, he sure as hell wouldn’t have known what to say to her.

  She’d given him her innocence and in doing so, he knew she had also given him her heart. He wasn’t ready for that kind of gift. He was a bachelor and he’d sworn to be a bachelor for the rest of his life.

  But having her here on the ranch and now in his bed had given him dangerous ideas. Like how it might be to have her as his wife, a permanent partner in his life. How it would be for the two of them to have children together, to raise them here on the ranch, as Amelia and Tucker had raised him and his siblings.

  But she was a career woman, just as Linda had been. Yet he had to admit there was a big difference between the two women. Linda had only wanted a career for her own personal gain. Isabella wanted to use hers to help others, not herself. And she was determined to move back home to the Jicarilla and do just that. So how could he ask her to give it up for him? How could he ever expect her to care for him that much?

  With a silent groan of misery, he reached up with his good hand and wiped the sweat collecting on his face. The movement caused Ross to wince and reminded him of the black-and-blue condition of his shoulder. If something wasn’t broken, it would be a miracle. And if Victoria could see the injury, she’d be zapping him with X rays and tying his arm up in a sling.

  But he wasn’t about to let his sister see what had happened to him. He didn’t even want Isabella to see the injury. She’d already been terrified last night; he didn’t want to scare her even more.

  “Heeelp! Heeelp!”

  The frantic call came out of nowhere and jerked Ross’s head straight up. His eyes squinted against the hot summer sun, he quickly scanned the horizon until he spotted the white horse with a rider hanging precariously on his side.

  Dear God, it was Isabella!

  Icy fear thrust through him like a lance as he dug his spurs into the sides of his horse and raced to intercept Juggler’s path.

  “Hold on, Bella!” he shouted out to her. “Hold on!”

  Sage cracked and cacti popped as the horses busted wildly through the brush. With his injured hand, Ross steered his mount alongside the runaway horse and, using his other hand, reached for Juggler’s bridle, missed, then reached again before he finally managed to catch the leather throat latch and jerk the animal’s head toward him.

  “Whoa, Juggler! Whoa now!” he shouted.

  Juggler’s head came around just enough to give Ross a chance to grab the bit shank at the side of the animal’s mouth. Once he pulled it back, the horse came to a jarring halt.

  The abrupt stop caused the cinch to break completely and dumped the saddle and Isabella onto the rocky ground. She landed with a heavy thud, the saddle twisted crazily between her legs.

  “Bella!”

  Jumping off his horse, fear beating like a wild bird in his chest, Ross raced around to where she was attempting to raise herself up to a sitting position.

  “Careful now! Careful,” he urged he as grasped her gently by the shoulders. “Oh God, Bella, are you hurt?”

  Her lungs were heaving from exertion and fear. Gulping for air, she looked up at him, tears flowing from her eyes. “Oh, Ross! Oh thank God you found me! That you stopped Juggler! I—I was—I thought I was going to be killed! I thought I was never going to see you again!”

  With shaking hands, he pulled her into his arms and buried her face against his shoulder. Above her head, he closed his eyes and tried to block out the image of her falling beneath Juggler’s galloping hooves. If he’d lost her, he wouldn’t want to live. It was so simple to see that now.

  “Don’t think about it, darling. You’re safe. You’re all right.”

  “Ross…Ross,” she mumbled brokenly, “I thought—I was going to die out here alone! Without you.”

  His fingers meshed in her hair, then spread across her back as he tightened his hold on her. “Dear God, Bella, when I saw you—saw what was happening—my blood ran cold!”

  His thumbs slid beneath her jaw and lifted her face. Tears had tracked twin trails down her dusty cheeks and he kissed them away as he attempted to assure her, and himself, that the danger was over.

  As soon as his lips touched her face, h
eat spread through Isabella and chased away the cold shock of her terrifying experience. The strong circle of his arms around her was heaven on earth and the urge to be closer was the only thing on her mind as she turned her mouth hungrily toward his.

  Groaning with need, he took her offered lips, letting his own express all the fears and longing and relief that had tangled up inside him during the past few moments.

  The need for air was finally the thing that tore them apart and they both stared at each other, dazed and frightened by the depth of what had just transpired between them.

  You’ve looked upon the one you want for a mate. When that happens, you can’t change it.

  Naomi’s words leaped into her mind once again, reminding her that she had to be strong or she would never be anything more than this man’s lover. Maybe that would be enough for some women. But not for her. Somehow, deep down, she’d always known that.

  Slowly, she pushed herself away from his chest and nervously licked her lips. “I—uh—think I’d better get up from here. My legs are hurting from the strain.”

  Overcome with the need to keep holding her, Ross had to mentally shake himself before he could finally release her and turn his attention to pulling her feet from the stirrups.

  “How in the world did all of this happen anyway, Bella?”

  She winced as he helped her free the leg that was still trapped beneath the saddle. Her whole body was already stiffening, she realized. By tonight she’d probably be too sore to walk.

  “Whatever you’re thinking, it wasn’t Juggler’s fault. He was behaving perfectly and I stood up in the stirrups to pet him between the ears. The next thing I knew something popped. The saddle fell sideways with me in it. After that, the horse was terrified and took off galloping. I had no way to stop him.”

  His features tight, Ross helped Isabella to her feet, then squatted down on his boot heels to examine the saddle.