The Rough and Ready Rancher (5 page)

“It's okay, Jim,” Jenna said, her voice gentle. “We're here now. Everything will be all right.”

Envy swept through Flint when she laid a comforting hand on Jim's cheek. The sound of her velvet voice saying another man's name, the sight of her hand caressing the young cowboy's jaw, had Flint wishing he were the one stretched out on the ground with his head resting in her lap.

He gritted his teeth against the irrational thought, rose to his feet and went to the bay's side to unfasten the extra saddle blanket. “Jenna, take off your belt.” He walked back to place the blanket beside Jim's injured leg, then removed his own belt. “I'll need yours, too, Jim. Can you get it off?”

Jim struggled for a moment to sit up, but pain forced him to sink back against Jenna. “Give me a minute…to catch my breath…and I'll try again.”

“I'll get it,” she said, reaching for the buckle.

Flint watched her hands, so slender, so soft, hover above Jim's waist. How many times in the last few days had Flint caught himself reliving the feel of her hands touching
his
skin? Remembering the effect they had on
his
body? Now
those same hands were tugging at another man's belt, mere inches from…

If Jenna unbuckled a man's belt, it damn well better be his.

Cursing, Flint brushed her hands aside, helped Jim to a sitting position and made short work of removing the leather strap. “Support his leg while I get this blanket under it,” he commanded, ignoring the exasperated look she shot him.

He fashioned a makeshift splint out of the stiff pad, then secured it with the belts. When he finished the task, he looked up to see Jenna helping Jim remove his tattered shirt.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“Didn't you say he might have some cracked ribs?”

“Yes.”

“Then don't you think it might be a good idea to tape them?”

Flint knew he was acting the fool and being completely irrational, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. To watch her help Jim out of his clothing, to see her gentle hands touch his bruised side, was more than Flint could take.

He bent to tape the man's ribs, then helped him stand on his good leg. “I don't like having to do this, but we don't have a choice, Jim. We're going to have to ride out of here. Think you can stay upright in the saddle?”

His lips white with pain, Jim sucked in a sharp breath and nodded. “I'll give it a damned good try.”

“He can double up with me,” Jenna offered, steadying the cowboy from the opposite side.

Flint shook his head. “He's going to need support, and you're not strong enough.”

“I'm stronger than I look.”

“Don't be ridiculous—”

“If you two don't mind,” Jim interrupted, “I'd like to get to a doctor before this leg falls off.”

“Jenna, bring the horses over here.” Flint felt guilty as hell. Jim needed immediate medical attention, and all Flint wanted to do was argue with Jenna. Well, that wasn't all he wanted, but it did help to ease some of his pent-up tension. And for now, that would have to do.

After Jenna led the horses to his side, Flint tied the saddlebags to the buckskin's saddle, lifted Jim onto the bay, then swung up behind him. He steadied the younger man with his arms as Jim's body went limp.

“Hang on,” Flint encouraged the now-unconscious man. “Whiskers is going to meet us at the wash.”

A half hour later Flint guided his horse across the sandy bottom of the ravine, relieved to see Whiskers and Ryan waiting for them on the other side with one of the ranch trucks.

“I put some blankets and pilla's in the back so Jim could lay down,” the old man said. “How long has he been out?”

“Since we left the gorge.” Flint rode the bay up to the truck, then stepped down into its bed. Lifting the limp cowboy off the horse, he laid Jim on the blankets and elevated his leg with the pillows. “Besides a broken leg, he's got some bruised ribs and he's partially dehydrated.”

“Daddy, is Jim gonna be all right?” Ryan asked, his small chin trembling.

Flint jumped down from the truck bed. Swinging Ryan up into his arms, he assured, “He'll be fine. We'll take him to the hospital in Amarillo, and they'll fix him up good as new.”

“I don't like hospitals.” Tears threatened to spill from Ryan's big brown eyes. “People go there and never come back.”

Flint's chest tightened at the fear in his son's eyes. Since
Nicole's death, the child had been terrified of hospitals. Hugging him close, Flint tried to absorb Ryan's fear. “Hospitals also make people well.”

Jenna dismounted and walked over to them. “Ryan, would you like to ride back to the house with me while your dad and Whiskers take Jim into Amarillo? We could finish that game of Go Fish.”

“Can I, Daddy?” Ryan asked, looking hopeful.

Flint's gaze met Jenna's. Her reassuring smile had him smiling right back. “Sure. If Jenna doesn't mind.”

“I'd be more than glad to have the company.” She took Ryan and set him on the bay. “Go on and take Jim to the hospital. We'll be waiting for you at the house.”

Flint stared at her a moment longer before climbing into the back of the truck with the injured cowboy. He tried to fight his reaction to her words, the feelings they caused. But knowing she'd be there awaiting his return sent a warmth coursing all the way to his soul.

 

Jenna sat in the porch swing, her arms wrapped around the sleeping little boy in her lap. She'd always wanted children, and if things had worked out, she would have had a child about Ryan's age. A sandy-haired little boy or girl with laughing, green eyes just like his or her father's.

For the first time in six years Jenna allowed herself to freely remember the gentle young man she'd planned to marry. But no longer was the image of his face so vivid or the sound of his voice as clear as it had once been. The passage of time had healed the hurt of losing him, taken care of the pain. But it had also eased him into a comfortable part of the past.

A past she had learned to live with, but would never, as long as she lived, forget.

For a long time she'd waited for someone to awaken her. To tell her it had all been a terrible nightmare, that Dan
wasn't gone. But it had happened, and all the waiting in the world wouldn't change it.

Now she waited again. Waited for word on Jim's condition. Waited for Flint.

In the distance twin beams of light split the darkness as a truck approached the house. Her pulse quickened as the ebony curtain of night closed in behind them. The wait was over. Flint was home.

After he parked the truck, he and Whiskers climbed the porch steps. “How's Jim?” she asked, careful not to wake Ryan.

“He's gonna be just fine,” Whiskers said, patting her shoulder. He yawned and shook his head. “I'm gettin' too old for these shenanigans. I'll see you two in the mornin'.”

The screen door banging shut behind Whiskers brought Flint out of the daze he'd been in since the truck lights flashed across the porch and he'd spotted Jenna in the swing, his son cradled to her breast. Was there any sweeter sight to a bone-weary man than that of a woman and child holding a vigil for his return?

“How long has Ryan been asleep?”

“About an hour.” She looked down at his son and smiled. “He wanted to wait up for you, but just couldn't stay awake. I promised I'd have you put him to bed.”

Flint sat down beside her. “I'm sorry it took so long, but Jim had to have his leg pinned. Since he doesn't have family around here, Whiskers and I waited until he came out of surgery.” He shrugged. “It just didn't seem right to leave him alone.”

She nodded. “You did the right thing. It's awfully frightening to lie in a hospital bed and know there's not a soul around who cares what happens to you.”

Flint gave her a sideways glance, but she stared straight ahead. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that she hadn't spoken from experience.

“What happened?”

“I came down with pneumonia after a case of flu and had to be hospitalized.”

“What about your brother? Why wasn't he with you?”

She sighed. “As always, Cooper was off at some rodeo. I had no idea where he was or how to get in touch with him.”

He knew it wasn't any of his business, but dammit Flint didn't like the thought of Jenna being sick and all alone. “Couldn't you have contacted your parents?”

She shook her head. “Daddy had an accident.” She paused to take a deep breath. “He never fully recovered. He passed away a year later. That was long before my stay in the hospital.”

“And your mother?” Flint could tell talking about her past had dragged up some very painful memories.

“Momma—” her voice cracked “—she was gone, too.”

Flint put his arm around her and drew her to his side. When she started to pull away, he held her close. He told himself he was only offering comfort, lending her his strength. But the feel of her tucked against his side, the herbal smell of her recently washed hair, soon had him admitting that he'd been looking for an excuse to hold her again, just waiting for the time when he could take her in his arms.

“I guess we'd better get to bed,” Jenna said, taking a shuddering breath.

Flint swallowed hard. “What?”

“It's late. We need to get some sleep.” She handed Ryan over to him, then rose from the swing. “After I've finished with Satin tomorrow, I'll talk to Brad and find out where he needs me to work.”

Confused, Flint stared up at her. “What are you talking about?”

“With Jim in the hospital, you're a man short.” She
shrugged. “I can't think of one good reason why I shouldn't help take up some of the slack.”

“No.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” she said frowning. “You can use the help. And I don't mind at all.”

The idea of her doing hard physical labor, didn't sit well. “I said no.”

“And why not?” She propped her hands on her hips. “I'm perfectly capable of moving cattle, riding fence and checking water holes.”

Flint came to his feet. “It's hot, dirty work.”

She arched a brow. “And training horses isn't?”

He knew by the look on her face, that she thought she had him. But he wasn't going down without a fight.

“It's not part of your contract.”

“Neither was cleaning up after a skunk. But that didn't seem to bother you.”

Ryan squirmed at the sound of the raised voices, causing Flint to whisper, “We'll discuss this in the morning.”

She threw up her hands as she brushed past him. “Fine!”

“We'll see how
fine
tomorrow morning,” Flint muttered when the screen door slammed shut behind her.

The possibility that Jenna could suffer an injury similar to Jim's just about turned Flint wrong side out. There was no way he'd ever let that happen if it was within his power to prevent it.

“G
ive it up, Jenna. It's not going to happen,” Flint said as he glared at the woman seated across the desk from him. She had presented a convincing argument as to why he should allow her to help out with the ranch work, but he stood firm. He didn't want to take the chance of her getting hurt.

“Don't be pigheaded, McCray.” She sat forward. “You need the help, and as long as I've got time between sessions with Satin, there's no reason for me to be idle.”

“No.”

She went on as if he hadn't spoken. “I could prowl the pastures, check the windmills and water holes, take a head count and report any sick or injured cattle.”

“I said
no.
Working alone can be dangerous.”

“I could team up with one of your men.”

The thought of Jenna with any other man caused Flint's stomach to churn. “You don't know the area.”

Her eyes flashed. “That's horse biscuits and you know it. I'd be working with someone who does, and besides, if you hired somebody else, they wouldn't know any more about the ranch than I do. Probably less. At least I've ridden the part between here and Devil's Gorge.”

“You stay away from Devil's Gorge,” he ordered.

She hurriedly rose to leave. “No problem.”

Flint started to emphasize that he hadn't consented, but the phone rang, and as he answered it, Jenna made good her escape.

 

Two hours later Flint and Ryan rode across the southern quadrant of the ranch. Flint told himself they were just out for a pleasure ride. He'd promised to take his son horseback riding for the past two days and it was mere coincidence they'd headed south. The fact that Jenna was working with Tom Davison had nothing to do with the direction he'd chosen.

Get real, McCray.
After talking with Brad, Flint hadn't been able to saddle the horses fast enough. Tom had a reputation with the ladies Don Juan would have been proud of. And, whether he liked it or not, it irritated Flint to think of Jenna alone with the good-looking cowboy.

“Look, Daddy.” Ryan pointed to the herd of cattle ahead of them. “There's Jenna and Tom.”

Flint's heart came up in his throat when he saw Jenna ride into the middle of the herd, separate a six-hundred-pound steer from the bunch, then move into position to rope the beast.

“Dammit all,” he muttered.

Technically he hadn't even given her permission to ride the pasture, let alone consented to let her play cowgirl. But, too far away to stop her and unable to leave Ryan alone with his horse, Flint had no choice but to watch the scene unfold.

Jenna's body moved in perfect time with the buckskin as they chased the steer across the pasture. When she swung the loop over her head, Flint held his breath. With any luck she'd miss. But a sick feeling settled over him as he watched the rope sail through the air to drop over the brute's head with picture-perfect accuracy. She immediately turned the horse so the steer was in position for Tom's heel shot and in no time at all, they had the animal stretched out on the ground between them.

Flint would have admired such expert roping if not for the fear twisting his gut. To hold an animal like that, Jenna had to have tied her rope to the saddle horn. If you didn't know what you were about, that could prove disastrous. The steer could have switched back and charged the horse, run under its belly, or hit the end of the rope so hard it jerked the horse down.

He watched them dismount, doctor the steer, then exchange a high-five before they wound up their ropes. By the time he and Ryan reached the pair, Flint could have chewed nails in two.

“You can head for me anytime, sweetheart,” Tom said. Turning to face Flint, the cowboy smiled. “Did you see—”

“Jenna, take Ryan back to the house,” Flint ordered. “You're done for the day.”

“But I haven't finished—”

“I said you're done. Now get back to the house.”

She hesitated a moment, then mounted her horse and rode up beside Ryan. “What's your problem, McCray?”

Flint's gaze never left his ranch hand. “I need to discuss something with Tom.”

The man's eyes locked with Flint's. “Do what he says. It seems the boss has some things he wants to get off his chest.”

Once Jenna and Ryan had ridden out of earshot, Flint rested his arm on the saddle horn. “You've been doing
ranch work long enough to know what can happen when you head a steer like that. And especially if the roper isn't experienced.”

“Jenna told me she'd headed before,” Tom said, his expression tight. “And the way she roped that steer—”

“Could have gotten her hurt or killed,” Flint interrupted. “If you'd like to continue working on the Rocking M, I'd better not hear of you putting her in danger like that again.” Flint knew he was being a class-A jerk and unreasonable, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. “And while we're on the subject, Miss Adams is off-limits. She's here to do a job, and I don't want her distracted.”

Tom gave him a measuring look. “Is that the real reason, or are you staking a claim, boss?”

Before he could think twice, Flint nodded. “Consider the deed filed.”

 

“Jenna, do you like dogs?” Ryan asked.

“Sure,” she answered. “Why?”

“I want a puppy.”

Flint stopped his horse beneath a cottonwood and listened to his son's excited voice. He smiled as he dismounted and ground-tied the bay. They were seated on the bank of a stream, and it was apparent Ryan had talked Jenna into taking him fishing after they returned to the house.

His mood light, Flint headed in the direction of the voices. He'd done a lot of thinking since leaving Tom in the south pasture, and he'd reached several conclusions. He'd avoided Jenna, thinking it would cool his attraction to her. But if anything, it had only made matters worse.

His smile turned to a satisfied grin. He could tell she hadn't been unaffected by him, either. So why not take advantage of the time they had together?

Now all he had to do was convince Jenna.

“The other day you wanted a kitten,” Flint said. He walked over to where Jenna and Ryan were fishing. “If you had a pet, who would take care of it?”

“I would!” Ryan threw his pole aside and jumped to his feet. “Can I have one?”

Flint chuckled as he hoisted his son into his arms. “I think we could handle a puppy a lot better than your choice of striped cats. But you have to promise to look after it.”

“Oh, I will, Daddy. When can I get my puppy? Today?”

Flint winked at Jenna and set Ryan on his feet. “We could make a trip into Amarillo this afternoon, but what about your fishing trip?”

Jenna felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach when Flint directed his devastating smile her way. She'd been right. Not only could he charm an old maid right out of her garters, the poor old soul would probably fall all over herself trying to take them off.

“Jenna, you don't want to fish anymore, do you?” Ryan asked, his expression hopeful.

Still shaken, it took a moment for her to realize what the child said. “No, I don't suppose I do.”

She watched Flint reach down, but instead of picking up Ryan's fishing pole, his hand came to rest atop hers. Their eyes locked, and she felt warmed to the depths of her soul. When his large palm enclosed hers to pull her up beside him, her heart skipped a beat and her stomach did acrobatics.

Jenna hastily pulled her hand from Flint's, lost her balance and immediately experienced the strange sensation of flying. A split second later the cool water of the stream closed over her head and her seat bumped the mushy bottom of the creek bed. A large object splashed beside her and, struggling to stand in the waist-deep water, she parted the wet strands of hair hanging in her eyes to watch Flint's hat float by. She'd caused him to lose his balance, too.

Ryan giggled. “Jenna, watch out.”

Before she could ask what he meant, strong arms closed around her legs and she again slipped beneath the surface. Thrashing, she regained her footing, and when Flint stood up beside her, she treated him to a faceful of water.

“Now you've done it,” he said, his deep laughter sending a warmth racing through her body.

When he started toward her, his grin promising retaliation, Jenna headed for the bank. But the lazy current slowed her progress, and Flint caught her around the waist.

She strained against the hard band of his arm. “You really don't want to do this, McCray.”

“Why not?”

“I don't like being dunked.”

He chuckled and hauled her back to the middle of the creek. “I didn't like being pulled into the water or splashed, darlin'.”

Laughing, she didn't sound nearly as convincing as she'd have liked. “I didn't mean to do that. Honest.”

“And I don't mean to do this,” he said, tossing her back into the water.

Jenna managed a gulp of air before she went under and, moving beneath the surface, managed to get behind him. Her well-placed push to the back of his knees achieved the desired result. Flint went under like a ton of bricks.

He resurfaced, reached out and pulled her to his solid frame. “Truce?”

“Tru-truce,” she agreed, her voice a husky whisper. His proximity played havoc with her senses, and she was shocked to find she'd twined her arms around Flint's neck.

“Are you guys gonna get out of the water so we can get my puppy?” Ryan asked, clearly impatient with the two adults.

“Sure.” Flint's eyes never wavered from hers. “I have
an idea. Why don't you take the poles and head back to the house? We'll be right behind you.”

When Ryan grabbed the poles and started across the field, Jenna watched a slow smile spread across Flint's face as he carried her to the bank. He had something on his mind all right, and it had absolutely nothing to do with getting his son a dog.

If she had any sense, she'd start running and not stop until she crossed the Oklahoma line. But when he set her on her feet, her traitorous body refused to budge from the spot.

She watched Flint retrieve his Resistol from a snag of branches a few feet downstream, then walk toward her. His wet clothing clung to his skin, defining every muscle, every part of his anatomy. She swallowed hard. The soft, wet denim cupped him like a lover's caress and emphasized the fact that he was all male and thoroughly aroused.

He stopped in front of her, and she tried to focus her gaze on something—anything—above his belt. His hair was plastered to his forehead, and water dripped from his chin, but she didn't think she'd ever seen a man more devastatingly handsome. The look in his dark-brown eyes held her captive, and like a night creature caught in headlights, she had no will to flee.

She moistened her lips. “We should go.”

“No doubt about it,” he agreed.

He reached out to caress her cheek and wipe a droplet from the corner of her mouth with the pad of his thumb. She shivered when he lowered his mouth to hers. Slowly, thoroughly, he caressed her lips before he sought and found entry inside.

When he molded her to him, fireworks ignited in her soul. The feel of her breasts crushed to his hard chest, the firmness of his arousal pressed to her lower belly, sent fiery
tendrils of need wrapping around her. Shoving all thought aside, she let her feelings take control.

His hand roamed from her back to cup the sensitive flesh of her breast, the tip puckering at his touch. He teased with his thumb as his lips nibbled a path to the sensitive hollow at the base of her throat. She breathed deeply, absorbing the masculine scent of him in every cell of her body.

“We'd better leave,” he murmured against her sensitive skin. “Ryan will be upset if he doesn't get his puppy today.”

Jenna's sanity slowly returned, mesmerized by the sound of his husky baritone. She allowed him to lead her to the side of the big, bay gelding. Air seemed to be in short supply when she finally managed to ask, “Aren't we going to walk?”

“Nope.” Flint effortlessly lifted her into the saddle. “Do you have any idea what walking a quarter of a mile in wet underwear can do to a man?”

She grinned at his pained expression. “I suppose there would be a certain amount of…um, chafing.”

“To the point of emasculation,” he muttered. He swung up behind her and settled her atop his muscular thighs.

Her body heated at the feel of him touching every part of her backside and it truly surprised her that steam wasn't rising from their damp clothes. “I could walk,” Jenna offered, her voice little more than a whisper.

“Not on your life, darlin'.” Clamping an arm around her middle to draw her close, he nudged the horse into a slow walk. “What kind of gentleman would I be if you walked while I rode?”

His warm breath, so close to her ear, sent a tremor coursing through her. Jenna cursed her weakness, even as it thrilled her. “I don't know what you're up to, McCray, but—”

“I'm just giving you a ride back to the house, darlin'.”

“—we don't even like each other.”

“I like you fine. I just don't trust you.” Flint nipped at the column of her neck. “But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy each other while you're here on the Rocking M.”

Jenna bit her lip to keep from moaning, but when his words finally penetrated her addled brain, she stiffened. Throwing her leg over the saddle horn, she tried to wrestle herself from his grasp. “Turn me loose, you low-down, sorry excuse for a snake!”

Surprised by her sudden outburst, it was all Flint could do to keep them both in the saddle.

He reined in the horse. “Not until you calm down.”

She stopped struggling to glare at him. “How do you expect me to calm down when you've just the same as said I'm dishonest. Put yourself in my shoes, McCray. How would you react?”