Dakota didn’t sleep. She stared at the stains on the ceiling, pretending they were stars, and she waited for the sun to bring in a new day, a new life.
***
“This is it,” the woman said, inviting Dakota into her apartment. “It’s li’l enough to make a pig claustrophobic, but the rent is cheap and the bills are low.”
The apartment wasn’t that small. There was room to move. Dakota liked the way the kitchen blended into the living room, both decorated with a country charm. The glasses looked like jars, the cabinets were painted a pale grey-blue, and the doors were made of refurbished wood. It was simple but alluring.
The same could be said about the woman, Brianna Jackson. With her sleek auburn hair and jade-green eyes, Brianna was stunning, but she was grounded, almost to the point that she seemed burdened. Likely in her late-twenties, only a few years older than Dakota, she was far too young to carry such heaviness around her, but she was friendly in spite of it.
Brianna smiled kindly. “What do ya think? Could you stand living here without feeling like a sardine?”
“Can I see the bedroom?” Dakota asked, much more guarded than Brianna. She didn’t want to be discourteous, but she hadn’t come to West Texas so she could make friends. She’d chosen it because the South was loud and rowdy, a place she could get lost in.
“Sure. It’s just in here.”
Brianna opened a barn door at the back of the apartment, next to the kitchen. It revealed a modest room with a double bed pushed under a tiny window. With little light allowed into the room, the walls were haunted by shadows. In the corner, sitting in the shadows, was a dresser.
“It’s exactly what I’m looking for,” Dakota said. “I’m interested. Is there an application I need to fill out?”
Brianna laughed, her amusement filled with compassion. “No need, chickling. I’m renting it out myself. No agencies. I don’t really need the money, just the company. I travel a lot, and this town ain’t exactly the safest. I’m looking for a built-in house sitter.”
“So you own the apartment?”
“It was handed down to me, but yeah. My name is on the deed.”
That was good. There would be no paperwork to sign, nothing she needed to falsify to protect herself.
Dakota returned to the living room and pulled an envelope from her bag. “I can give you cash up front,” she offered, hoping Brianna would accept. The place was perfect. There was nowhere better she could hide, not unless she was willing to risk bed bugs and drunken neighbors.
Contemplative, Brianna studied her. “That’s an awful big purse you carry around,” she said, meaning the duffle bag.
“It’s my belongings.”
“Your only belongings?”
Dakota looked away, unwilling to share the details of her past. Maybe the apartment wasn’t such a good idea after all. “All that I have on me.”
“Gotcha. I was going to show the room to a few others over the week then choose from there, but I like what I see. You have your secrets, no doubt about that, but we all have things we keep hidden. As long as you’re not planning to bring no trouble, the room is yours.”
“No trouble,” she said, uncertain if it was a promise she could keep.
Brianna took the envelope. “You didn’t steal this, did you?” she asked with clemency.
“It’s my savings.” That, at least, was the truth.
“Are you handing me all you have? Cuz I don’t want you wandering around with empty pockets.”
“No. There’s more.”
“Good.” Brianna tucked the envelope into the back of her jeans without counting the money inside. “Then hurry on up and change. We have a rodeo to get to, and you can’t go wearing a sweatshirt. You’ll wither away like a tulip without water.”
“A what?” Dakota asked, taken aback.
“A rodeo. Call it your roommate initiation. I’m a bull rider. The best in my class. I can’t live with somebody who’s never seen a bull buck. You wouldn’t understand anything I have to say.”
Dakota glanced at her room. All she wanted to do was sleep. “I think I’ll have to pass, but thank you.”
“You can thank me after all the fun you’ve had. You look like you’re in need of some fun, chickling. Go on now. Shower and get dressed. I’m about to change your life.”
***
I came to the South because it was loud and rowdy, Dakota mused as they entered the rodeo. Careful what you wish for.
When she thought of rodeos, beefed-up rednecks sporting cowboy hats and rugged smiles came to mind, mavericks who were rambunctious and fowl-mouthed, sons and daughters of the Wild West. She was right. In the stadium where the rodeo events took place, hundreds of country folk cheered on a rider in a pen, their shouts as deafening as a thunderstorm.
Beside her, wearing a white hat embroidered with a green that matched her eyes, Brianna whistled. “I love it when the party comes home! That’s Owen Hutch,” she explained, pointing to the man in the pen. “He’s the best bull rider in these parts. He’s a superstar.”
A buzzer echoed across the stadium, causing everyone to explode. Used to the drone of the bus, it took all of Dakota’s willpower not to cover her ears. In the pen, sitting on a bull, Owen shook a gloved fist in the air, playing to the crowd, not a fear on him.
“We’re getting close!” Brianna shouted over the noise. “When they open the gates, his eight seconds will start. He has to stay on for eight seconds to receive a score. We’re just in time.”
“Is the score based on how long you’re on the bull?” she asked.
“Only partly. It’s how well you ride.”
They stood near the arena, inches from the barrier that divided them from the action. Tickets didn’t seem to be a requirement, not for Brianna. Everyone they passed had greeted Brianna warmly, full of admiration. No one had stopped them, not even security. It seemed Owen Hutch wasn’t the only superstar at the rodeo. Brianna Jackson had her own fans.
“Are you ready?” the announcer bellowed across the stadium. He was met with elaborate applause. “Keep your britches on. It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.”
Another buzzer sounded, and the gates to the pen swung open. The bull rushed out, carrying Owen on its back. He sat tall and confident, moving with the bull as if he and the animal were the same. Dakota watched him carefully, his ease and his talent. And the way he awkwardly shook his foot against the bull, the only flaw to his ride.
“Somethings wrong,” she said.
Brianna saw it too. She clenched the metal barrier in front of them, her face lined with worry. “His foot is stuck in the rope,” she said, indicating the rope tied around the bull that Owen held onto, his grip. “They didn’t put it on proper. He won’t be able to get off. When he falls, he’ll drag against the bull. Why don’t the officials see it?”
She called to an official, but it was too late. Owen fell, but instead of rolling away like Dakota had seen in the movies, he flopped against the bull like a ragdoll. A bull fighter jumped into the arena to help, but the bull couldn’t be controlled. It bucked relentlessly, jerking Owen around, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do.
Except for Owen. In a flash, the rider was no more. In his place was a bear, a brown grizzly who easily broke through the rope and rolled away.
“He’s a shifter,” Dakota stated.
“Thank goodness he is,” Brianna muttered, relaxing, the danger over. “Otherwise, he would have been killed.”
Shifters were no secret. Humans had known about them for almost a century, but they were few and far between. To meet a shifter was rare. Many people never did.
Dakota had. She knew one very well, back home.
“I’m surprised shifters are allowed to compete,” she said, knowing their abnormal strength and instinct gave them an advantage over other athletes.
“It’s a sore subject. A lot of folk don’t agree with it.” Brianna spoke tensely, her focus on the pen where Owen had disappeared. Dakota could tell
she wanted to go to him to make sure he was okay.
“Go,” she told Brianna. “I’ll be fine. I’ll wander outside and get some fresh air.”
“Thanks. I won’t be long. Meet me in front of the photo booth in an hour.”
“Sure. Sounds good.”
As soon as Brianna was out of sight, Dakota left the stadium for the brightness of the day where the sun blazed down on numerous craft stalls, food stands, and beer tents. Crowds of people pushed past her, enjoying the festivities. Wearing jeans and a red tank top that complemented her chestnut hair, she almost fit in, if not for her fair skin. She would tan, eventually, but until then, her paleness marked her as an outsider. It was a bad thing. A very bad thing.
Folding her arms around her, she headed for the bathrooms, but as she passed a beer tent, she was knocked to the ground by an impossibly tall cowboy with broad shoulders and arms that could tackle a dinosaur. With his golden eyes and sandy blonde hair, she found him good-looking, if he weren’t a stumbling drunk.
“Don’t come back without my money,” a portly man with bad skin called from the tent. “You owe me, Edward Tyrell, and I always collect my debts. I don’t care who your family is or what you are.”
In reply, Eddie picked up an empty beer bottle lying on the ground and threw it at the man, but his aim was miles off. “Bastard,” he muttered, kicking the dirt.
Vexed, Dakota stood from the ground and dusted the dirt off her knees. Her side ached. It felt as if she’d been attacked by a boulder. “Maybe watch where you’re going next time, yeah?” she admonished.
“Hey, you’re pretty,” Eddie said, ignoring her reprimand. “Wanna take a ride with a real cowboy?”
“Sure, tell me when you see one,” she returned, rubbing her arm. “I don’t appreciate being knocked over.”
Eddie frowned, genuinely concerned. “I knocked you over?”
“Didn’t you notice?”
His frown disappeared, cavalier once more. “I noticed how gorgeous you are.”
Unwilling to entertain him, she turned to leave, but Eddie quickly moved in front of her. “Let me make it up to you. I’ll buy you a shot.”
“You can buy three shots, and you can drink them yourself. I’m going home.”
“I’ll go with you,” he said, flashing her a perfect smile, the smile of a playboy, someone who treated life like it was a game of marbles.
Dakota wasn’t impressed. “You can go to hell, that’s where you can go.”
It made him laugh. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
She stepped away. “Don’t worry about where I’m from.”
He tried to maneuver with her, but in his inebriation, he tripped over his own feet and fell into a water trough, soaking him through. “Thanks!” he called, splashing his arms. “I needed a cool down. A girl as pretty as you had me all riled up.”
“What you need are some manners, little brother,” a man said, joining them on horseback. He was tall, like Eddie, but he had dark hair, and he was much bulkier, thick around the shoulders, built to rule. “You okay?” he asked Dakota.
“I’m fine,” she told him, nervous with so much attention on her. She wanted to slip away, but she saw no easy way to do so, not with a man on horseback and a drunk in a trough staring at her.
He turned his attention to Eddie, full of authority. “I’m leaving now. You’ll be in charge. You know what that means.”
“I know,” Eddie grunted, displeased.
“Try to stay sober while I’m gone. The clan will be looking towards you for protection. They need a leader. Don’t be reckless.”
She could tell there was more the man wanted to say, but he wouldn’t in front of her. She wasn’t insulted. She had her secrets too.
“Safe journey, brother,” Eddie bid, half-sarcastic.
“Protect them,” the man said once more, and then he rode off.
The confrontation had sobered Eddie. She could tell he was humiliated. Feeling sorry for him, she offered him her hand and helped him out of the trough. “Who was that?” she asked.
“Holden, my saint of a brother,” he answered, wringing out his hat. “I hate the way he speaks to me.”
Surprised by his confession, she set her hand on his arm, comforting him. “It’s his way of looking out for you. That’s what siblings do. They take care of each other. Even shifters.”
She’d known Eddie was a shifter from the moment she saw him. Only shifters had golden eyes as deep and compelling as his were. It was one of the traits that set them apart.
“It doesn’t scare you that, underneath this sinfully attractive body, I’m a bear?” he asked, resuming his charm.
“No,” she answered. “It doesn’t scare me. I’ve met shifters before.”
“Like who?” he asked, intrigued.
“A friend.”
He laughed. “You’re mysterious. I get it. Is there anything about yourself you are willing to tell me?”
She couldn’t walk around West Texas ignoring the natives. It would only draw suspicion, so she played along. “Tell me more about you first.”
“I’m a middle child. Not much responsibility on my shoulders. No one to prove myself to, except the bull I sit on when I ride. Got a lot to prove to him.”
“Until now.”
“Yeah, til now,” he said reluctantly.
“You don’t want to be the leader of your clan.”
“Would you? There are things happening in the shifter world, unsettling things. I can’t protect my brothers from it any more than I could protect myself.”
It worried her as much as it did him. “What things?”
“Nothing you have to worry about, darling,” he said, perking up, a fresh wave of his intoxication coursing through his blood. “Wanna dance?” Before she could stop him, he scooped her up into his arms and spun her around.
She protested, outwardly annoyed, but a secret side of her enjoyed it. Eddie was brazen, and he was sexy, especially when he wasn’t acting like a drunken fool. His robust charm took away some of the misery of being on the run. She demanded he set her down, but part of her wished he wouldn’t let go.
He set her back on her feet. “You’ve just made a new friend here today,” he said. “Feel free to call on me anytime, but when you do, I prefer you wear lacy–”
The intercom cut him off, crackling around them. “There has been a change in the schedule. The Tyrell Clan will no longer be competing in today’s events. All riders have been moved forward accordingly.”
“Who the hell decided that?” Eddie growled, outraged. “Sorry, darling, but I gotta go.” Moving fast, he planted a playful kiss on her cheek. “Until next time.”
“There won’t be a next time!” she hollered after him, confused.
A fugitive, Dakota wanted nothing to do with handsome cowboys or their pretty words. She wanted to stay hidden in the shadows, away from Eddie and his recklessness, but she also very much wanted to dance with him again. She was a fugitive, but she was also a woman.
“It’s the heat,” she decided, speaking out loud. “It’s consumed me.”
Chapter Two
The next day, Brianna rode. She was magnificent. She handled the bull like a queen. Sitting in the front row of the stadium, next to the press, Dakota was in awe of her new roommate. A lot of talent had been showcased in the arena, and most of it belonged to Brianna, who wore white chaps with jade beading to match her hat, her signature look.
Jackson (BBW Secret Baby Bear Shifter Romance) (Secret Baby Bears Book 3) Page 5
