The Rough and Ready Rancher (8 page)

“Darlin', where do you get those shirts?”

Jenna looked down at the pale pink shirt she'd just pulled on, Bronc Riders Like It In The Saddle printed across the front. “My brother's warped idea of the perfect gift,” she muttered. “He gave me the whole set for my birthday.”

Flint winked. “You know, T-shirt slogans are based on fact.”

Her cheeks burned, and without a word she mounted the buckskin and headed for the house.

The day had started out with such promise. How could it have fallen apart so fast?

Her session with Black Satin this morning had been very
productive, but after that everything had gone to hell in a handbasket. Flint had shown up to place restrictions on her training program, someone was trying to frame her with that threatening note and now her fingerprints were on file with the police. If that hadn't been enough to ruin her day, Flint had caught her skinny-dipping in one of his stock tanks and had taken great delight in joining her. Her body still hummed from the current of unfulfilled desire his presence and candid promises had unleashed.

But as much as her body craved his touch, there was no way she'd give into the attraction between them. Not until he believed completely in her innocence, not until he believed in her.

 

When Jenna ran her hand along his ebony coat, Black Satin's hide quivered with pleasure. She hadn't intended to work with him this evening, but the temperature had dropped several degrees, making it more comfortable, and there was still plenty of daylight left. Besides, the sooner she finished with the stallion's training, the sooner she could leave the Rocking M and the distraction of its owner. She had plans and they didn't include getting involved with a rough-around-the-edges guy like Flint McCray.

He was a good man. The type of man she'd always hoped to find. Honest and straightforward, Flint worked hard to achieve his goals and didn't believe in playing games. If he wanted something, he went after it.

But six years ago she'd vowed never to let anything stand between her and a home of her own. And that included falling for the owner of the Rocking M. He wasn't offering a long-term relationship, and she wasn't staying around for anything less.

“We missed you at supper.”

She glanced up. Flint and Ryan stood by the fence. “I wasn't hungry.”

Couldn't the man find something better to do than lean on that cursed fence? It seemed every time she looked up, there he stood, watching her every move, making her more aware of the attraction she felt for him.

“Jenna, when are you gonna ride Black Satin?” Ryan asked, peeping through the rails.

She looked at Flint and Ryan. They'd come to mean so much to her. She'd like nothing more than to be part of their little family. But the longer she stayed, the more of her heart she'd leave behind when she had to go.

She came to an immediate decision. “Right now.”

“Now hold it,” Flint protested. When she came through the gate to get the saddle from the tack room, he blocked her path. “Why don't you wait—”

“Satin's ready and so am I.” She tried to step around him. “There's no reason to put it off.”

Flint didn't like the idea of her riding the stallion. Satin still wouldn't accept anyone but Jenna around him. To Flint it signaled an unpredictability he'd rather not gamble on.

“There's plenty of time,” he said, stalling, reaching out to stop her. “If he's ready now, he'll be ready tomorrow.”

She stared up at him a moment before she pried his fingers loose. “I'm the trainer, remember? I've set up his program, measured his progress and
I
say when he's mentally ready for something new.” She shoved at his chest. “Now back off and let me do
my
job.”

Flint watched her storm into the barn to get the tack she needed, then enter the round pen. She was upset about something more than his interference with Satin's training. He'd seen the sadness in her eyes, the trembling of her hand as she disengaged herself from him. The woman had no business in the same corral with the stud, let alone trying to work with him.

She patted the stallion, then started that slow, unintelligible crooning he'd come to recognize as her way of re
assuring Satin. When she sacked out the horse by swinging a burlap bag around his legs and chest, Flint tensed. But the big animal stood calm.

Standing by while she saddled Satin was the hardest thing Flint had ever done. He knew the horse could blow up at any time. But much to his relief, she finished the task, then led the horse around for several minutes without incident. She continued to croon as she brought Satin to the center of the pen.

Flint held his breath when she slid her boot into the stirrup. He automatically put his own boot on the bottom rail of the fence and gripping the top board, braced himself. If that stallion gave the slightest indication he didn't want to be ridden, Flint was getting her out of there.

Jenna swung up onto Black Satin's back and patted his neck. Instead of the stud tensing as she expected he might, Satin seemed interested in what she was asking of him. Nudging him with her heels, she urged him into a walk, a trot and an easy lope. Confident with his reaction, she praised the horse as they moved around the corral, his gait smooth and comfortable.

Her concentration focused entirely on Satin, she knew immediately that something was wrong. The saddle started to bounce and slip to one side, causing him to shy away from the changing pressure. Then everything happened at once. Jenna and the saddle landed hard in the dirt, while in a blind panic, Black Satin reared and pawed the air.

Jenna saw Flint start over the top rail as she scrambled to her feet. “Just keep Ryan away from the fence.” She walked toward the frantic stallion. “Let me get Satin calmed down.”

A combination of fear and adrenaline surged through Flint as he gripped the fence rail. If the horse tried to charge, could he get to Jenna in time? Would he be able
to get her out before she fell victim to the animal's slashing hooves?

But to Flint's amazement, the stallion stopped his agitated movements and twisted his head from side to side, listening to Jenna's murmured reassurances. When she took hold of the bridle, Satin tensed for a moment, then as if he understood what she said, relaxed.

She stroked the stud's neck. “Get another saddle, Flint.”

“No.” Flint's heart still pounded hard against his ribs and he didn't think he could survive another episode. “Wait until tomorrow when he's calmed down.”

“He has to see there's nothing to fear. Get the saddle.”

It went against his better judgment, but Flint retrieved the tack she requested. “You don't have to do this,” he said quietly, handing it to her.

“Yes, I do.” Their hands touched and they stared at each other for several long seconds. “I'll be all right. I promise.”

Flint didn't think he'd ever done anything as difficult as standing back and watching her go through the same routine as before. He held his breath when the stallion pinned his ears back and rolled his eyes as Jenna mounted him. But once Satin realized nothing more was going to happen, he relaxed.

By the time Jenna led the stallion back to the safety of his stall, Flint felt drained. He'd never experienced anything as terrifying as when she took that fall. Nor had he ever felt more helpless. If she'd been unable to get up, he knew he couldn't have gotten to her in time to keep Satin from running her down.

Jenna returned to the corral and without hesitation stepped into his open arms. Flint could tell the incident had shaken her. Her slight body trembled, and she held on to him as if her legs didn't want to support her.

He hugged her close. “You scared me half to death. What happened?”

Before she could tell him, Ryan ran up to them, wide-eyed. “Jenna, are you all right?”

She reached down to touch Ryan's cheek. “I'm fine, honey.”

Flint held her in one arm and picked up Ryan with the other. The three remained silent for several long moments while they held each other close.

“Let's go check out that saddle,” Flint finally said, setting Ryan on his feet.

“The girth broke,” Jenna stated, her voice shaky.

They walked over to where the tack still lay in the dusty corral. Flint scooped it up, placed it on the top rail and examined the girth.

His face grim, he held it out for Jenna's inspection. “This didn't break on its own.” He glanced around the area as he once again felt someone watching their every move, could all but smell the hatred. “It was cut.”

F
lint sat at his desk, staring at the pieces of the girth. He rubbed the tension at the base of his neck. Under normal conditions when a horse bucked or reared up, the rider could at least try to hold on to the saddle. But in this case, that small amount of security had been eliminated. If Satin had reacted differently…

Flint drew in a deep breath. Whoever cut the girth had anticipated a violent reaction the first time Satin was ridden. One that could have proven fatal.

“Flint?” Jenna stood at his office door. “Whiskers said you wanted to see me.”

“We need to talk.”

“Okay.” She settled herself in the chair across from him. “Is there a problem?”

“I'm going to write you a check for the specified amount stated in the contract plus wages for the ranch work.” Flint took a deep breath. His heart wasn't in what he was about
to do, but his mind was set. “Then I want you off the Rocking M first thing in the morning.”

“What's this all about, Flint?”

He took a check from one of the drawers, filled it out, then pushed it across the desk. “We both know what happened with Satin this evening was no accident. Someone had every intention of seeing you hurt.”

“Yes. But—”

Flint shook his head. “As long as it's in my power to prevent it, I can't and won't take the chance on something like this happening again.”

Jenna saw the self-reproach in his eyes, the regret. Her heart beat double time at the sacrifice he was willing to make. Flint would jeopardize Black Satin's training program and his goal of a championship, if that's what it took to protect her.

“Thanks.” She picked up the check and tore it into tiny pieces. “But I haven't completed the job, and until I do, you're stuck with me. I'm here for the duration.”

He reached for another check. “I'm releasing you from the contract with full pay.”

“I understand that.” She sat back in the chair. “And I appreciate the offer. But I have to decline.”

“Like hell you will!” Flint jumped to his feet. “Don't you understand? It's become too dangerous for you to stay. I can't guarantee your safety.”

“I'm not asking you to. All I'm asking for is your trust, Flint.”

“You've got that, darlin'.”

Outwardly calm, Jenna's insides were a mass of quivering nerves. Earlier she might have thought it best to get away from the Rocking M, but now the idea of leaving Flint upset her as little else could. He had big trouble on his hands, and she wasn't about to leave. Besides, it had
become a personal matter when the culprit weakened that girth.

“What happened tonight was partly my fault,” she admitted. “I should have checked the equipment to make sure it was sound before I saddled Satin.”

“There wasn't any reason.” He walked around the desk to stand in front of her. “The saddle and the girth were new.”

Jenna rose to face him. “Yes, but if I had taken normal precautions and inspected it, the way I should have, I'd have discovered the damage.”

Flint took her by the shoulders. “It still doesn't change the fact that someone wanted to see you hurt.”

“Then whoever is behind this got a big disappointment.”

She took his hands from her shoulders and placed the torn-up check into one of them. Closing his fingers around it, she held his hand in both of hers. “I've never run from anything in my life, Flint, and I'm not about to start now. You'll have your championship horse. I'm going to finish training Satin.”

Flint reached for her and crushed her lips beneath his. She opened for him to thrust his tongue into the sweet, hot recesses of her mouth, and a ragged sigh escaped him.

Jenna would jeopardize her own safety in order to help him. He'd never know a woman that self-sacrificing. Nicole certainly hadn't been. His ex-wife's interest in a man never went further than his bank account and how to deplete it. But Jenna wasn't like Nicole. Money wasn't that important to her.

His fist relaxed, and the pieces of the check fluttered unnoticed to the floor. He cupped Jenna's breast, teased the tight nub with his thumb, then gently kneaded the softness surrounding it. Rewarded by her moan of pleasure, Flint shuddered at the molten flow of urgent need racing through him.

How he wanted her. And not just physically. It scared him, but he could no longer deny it. He wanted to possess her body and soul.

“Daddy, is something wrong with Jenna's heart?” Ryan asked, tugging on Flint's shirt.

Unnoticed, Ryan and the puppies had entered the room and stood curiously watching the two adults.

When Jenna started to jerk away, Flint held her tight. “Her heart was beating pretty fast,” he said. He removed his hand from her breast. “I was checking to see that she's okay.”

“Oh, Lord!” Jenna buried her face in Flint's shoulder. Embarrassment burned her cheeks and a nervous giggle threatened to escape. Couldn't he come up with something better than that?

“I'll bet she's still scared 'cause of falling off Black Satin,” Ryan said solemnly.

“I think you're right,” Flint agreed, just as serious. “Does Whiskers still have some cookies left from supper?”

“Uh-huh. He told me to come and tell you guys that he's got a snack for us.” Clearly puzzled, Ryan gazed up at Jenna. “Your face is awful red. Does your heart still hurt?”

Wishing the floor would open and swallow her, Jenna nodded.

When Ryan patted her arm in sympathy, Flint cleared his throat in an obvious attempt to stifle his laughter. “Ryan, would you tell Whiskers we'll be there in a minute?”

“Okay, Daddy.” Ryan trotted to the door, but turned back. “You'll feel better when you have some milk and cookies, Jenna.”

“I think I'll pass on the snack,” she said when she found her voice. She escaped Flint's grasp and put some distance
between them. “It would probably be best if I go on to bed.”

Ryan nodded, then called to Whiskers as he and the dogs ran back down the hall. “Jenna isn't gonna have a snack. She doesn't feel too good, and Daddy had to put his hand on her chest to check her heart. Can my puppies have her cookies?”

Whiskers's hoot of laughter carried all the way to the study.

“Is your heart still racing?” Flint asked, his grin wicked.

Her cheeks flamed anew. “No, it just stopped completely.”

Without a word she turned and headed for the door. There wasn't anything she could say that wouldn't make the matter worse. And for the first time in her life, Jenna opted for the coward's way out.

 

Jenna wiped her brow and walked through the back door. Avoiding Whiskers's twinkling eyes, she went to the refrigerator to get something cold to drink. She wasn't about to comment on last night's embarrassing incident. And if he knew what was good for him, Whiskers wouldn't, either.

“Have you seen Brad?” she asked.

“Flint sent him to town.” The old man watched her pour a glass of orange juice and shook his head. “Is that all you're gonna have for breakfast?”

She slumped into a chair. “It's too hot to eat.”

“Well, I cain't kick up a fuss with you on that one,” he said, seating himself across from her. Lowering his voice, he confided, “I wouldn't tell this to jest anybody, but it's days like these make me glad I got old and had to turn to housekeepin'. Stayin' in the air-conditionin' while them young bucks get out and chase beeves don't bother me one bit.”

Amused, she asked, “Even if you have to share the house with three dogs?”

“Them hounds are outside where they belong,” Whiskers stated flatly. “And they're gonna stay there. They done chewed up the last pair of my boots they're gonna get ahold on. There weren't nothin' left but the soles by the time I found 'em.”

Jenna laughed at the disgusted look on the old man's face. She'd seen the boots Whiskers referred to, and he was right. The puppies had even chewed off the heels.

Rising to place her glass in the sink, she asked, “Did Brad leave me a message before he left?”

Whiskers shook his head. “Nope. Flint said you'd be workin' with him today after you got done with Satin.”

“Where is he now?”

“That heifer in the birthin' pen dropped her calf last night. He took Ryan down to see it. He's been gone a spell, so I 'spect he'll be back directly.” The old man stood and hobbled into the pantry. “He did tell me to have some sandwiches packed, 'cause the two of you won't be back 'fore supper.”

Before Jenna could ask if Flint mentioned where they would be working, he and Ryan entered the kitchen.

“Jenna, Daddy gave me a calf,” Ryan said, racing past her on his way to the stairs. He turned back suddenly. “Is your heart okay today?”

Her face burning, she nodded. “I'm doing a lot better, Ryan. Thank you for asking.”

“Good.” The child started up the stairs. “I gotta get my gloves. I'm gonna help Brad with my calf when he gets back.”

Flint watched the blush rise on Jenna's cheeks. Her hair spilled onto her shoulders like a dark-gold cloud, reminding him of the feel of his face buried in the silken strands.

His gaze ran the length of her, and he found it hard to
breathe. With the sunlight streaming in through the windows behind her, her thin T-shirt might as well have been transparent. The pale-yellow cotton complemented her light tan, but did little to hide the outline of her upper body, the fullness of her breasts. Tucked into her snug jeans, it gave him more than a fair idea of her enticing shape.

The phrase Steer Wrestlers Like It On the Side caused him to gulp. As usual, his imagination and body were off and running at the thought. How the hell was he supposed to work with her all day and keep his hands to himself?

He'd seen the smooth length of her slender legs that first night, and just yesterday he'd caught a glimpse of her luscious breasts beneath the water in the stock tank. His mind filled in the blanks, and his body tightened.

“Flint, are you all right?” Jenna asked. She stepped closer. “You look a little flushed.”

Whiskers came out of the pantry to peer at the crimson staining Flint's cheeks. “He'll be okay. I've seen that look before when a man gets a mite too hot.” Chuckling, he handed Flint a set of saddlebags, then winked at Jenna. “Throw a little cold water on him. He'll come out of it.”

Flint glared at Whiskers, then snatched up the saddlebags and one of the cellular phones he'd purchased since Jim's accident. “Jenna, are you finished with Satin for the day?”

“Yes.” She bit back the smile threatening to break through. It felt good to know she wasn't the only one suffering from a heat that had nothing to do with the temperature outside.

“I need you to help me move one of the smaller herds to Devil's Gorge,” Flint said, jamming his hat on his head.

“The weatherman says there's a chance of somethin' blowin' through,” Whiskers warned. “It starts to lookin' bad, you two find yourselves a hidey-hole. Ya hear?”

Jenna tucked her hair into her hat and followed Flint. “If
the need arises, we'll find somewhere to hide,” she promised.

When the pair were safely out of earshot, Whiskers chuckled merrily. “That's what I'm countin' on, gal.”

 

As Flint and Jenna rode away from the box canyon, she found she hated to leave. She'd thought it to be one of the prettiest areas on Flint's ranch. The contrast of the lush, green grass against the multicolored strata of the canyon walls they'd had to pass between had been breathtaking. And the spring-fed pool at the far end had reflected the beautiful surroundings, just like in a painting.

“I can understand why they call it Devil's Gorge,” Jenna commented when they left the pass and were once again able to ride side by side. “It's hard as the dickens to get to, but it really is gorgeous. Almost like an oasis.”

Flint chuckled. “A piece of heaven in the middle of hell?”

“I'd say that pretty much sums it up,” she agreed, smiling.

He stared off into the distance a moment before he spoke again. “You won't have to check with Brad anymore to find out where you'll be working.”

She glanced at him, but his face revealed nothing. “Why?”

He stopped his horse, then waited for her to do likewise. “From now on you'll be working with me.”

“But I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“This isn't negotiable,” Flint said firmly. He reached out to touch her arm. “Yesterday someone on this ranch tried to make sure you got hurt. The only way I can prevent them from succeeding the next time will be to keep you with me.”

The feel of his hand on her arm, the protective look in
his dark brown eyes, caused her stomach to do a back flip. “All right. But we stay away from stock tanks. Agreed?”

Flint released her arm and shook his head. “I'm making no promises.” His grin devilish, he winked and nudged his horse into a walk. “I've just recently discovered what a pleasure it is to own stock tanks.”

“A gentleman would forget.”

“Darlin', even a gentleman couldn't forget about that.”

“Can't or won't?”

“Both.”

When the sound of distant thunder rumbled across the land, she pointed to the horizon. “It looks as if we might get some relief from the heat.”

Flint watched the bank of dark clouds rapidly rise in the southwestern sky and cursed under his breath. Still several miles from them, the main body of the storm was building momentum as it traveled across the prairie. Jagged columns of lightning streaked down from the low-hanging, greenish-black clouds, and the wind picked up. Fat raindrops began to fall, causing little puffs of dust to rise when they hit the thirsty earth.

He quickly assessed their situation. They were too far from the canyon to take shelter there, and unless the system changed direction, and damned fast, they were in the direct path of a sizable blow.