She’d Bet Her Best Pair Of Dress Boots That He Could Charm Any Woman Right Out Of Her Garters.

The rancher’s wide, muscular shoulders, narrow hips and long, sinewy legs attested to the fact that he kept himself in excellent physical condition. When he’d hauled her out of the corral, he’d moved with the effortless power of a race horse, and she had no doubt about the identity of the “thoroughbred” glaring down at her. His authoritative presence, arrogant stance and dark scowl could only mean one thing. This was none other than Flint McCray, the lord and master of the Rocking M Ranch—her new employer.

And at the moment he looked mad enough to spit nails. It seemed that the handsome cowboy hadn’t expected his new horseman to be a filly.

Jenna’s smile widened. Time for a showdown!

The Rough and Ready Rancher

KATHIE DENOSKY

Books by Kathie DeNosky

Silhouette Desire

Did You Say Married?! #1296

The Rough and Ready Rancher #1355

KATHIE DENOSKY

lives in deep Southern Illinois and enjoys dining out, factory outlet malls, traveling through the southern and southwestern states and collecting Native American pottery. After reading and enjoying Silhouette Desires for many years, she is ecstatic about being able to share her stories with others as a Silhouette author. She often starts her day at 2:00 a.m. so she can write without interruption, before the rest of the family is up and about.

Kathie and her husband, Charlie, have three children. Two are in college and the other is working with special needs children. You may write to Kathie at P.O. Box 2064, Herrin, Il 62948-5264.

To Kathie Brush, who was there when the dream began. To Bonnie and Huntley for encouraging the dream. And to Tina Colombo and Joan Marlow Golan for making the dream come true.

And to Wes Bennett, Braden Rathert and Forrest the Intern Boy. Thanks for the laughter, the encouragement and playing the music that inspires me to write.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

One

Flint McCray stopped thumbing through the papers on his desk to glare at his ranch foreman. “If Adams doesn’t show up within the next hour, he’s out of a job.”

“Simmer down, Flint.” Brad Henson lowered his lanky frame into a soft, leather armchair. “Cal Reynolds assured me J. J. Adams is the best horse trainer he’s ever seen step into a round pen. You know if the guy has Cal’s stamp of approval, he should be worth the wait.”

Flint considered Brad’s words. Reynolds was one of the most respected quarter horse ranchers in the state of Texas. His word should set Flint’s mind at ease, but gut instinct told him something didn’t ring true about the whole situation. “If Adams is so good, why haven’t I heard of him before now?”

“Let’s face it, since you got custody of Ryan you’ve had more important things on your mind than finding a trainer for that son of a sidewinder you insist on calling a horse.”

Pride and a sense of awe filled Flint at the mention of his son. “Now that I have Ryan, Black Satin’s training should be all I have to worry about for a while.”

His expression grave, Brad shook his head. “I don’t think so. We got hit again last night.”

“The herd up on Widow’s Ridge?” At Brad’s tight nod, Flint slammed his ink pen on the desk. “How many this time?”

“Near as I can figure about fifteen head.” Brad hesitated, then squarely met Flint’s furious gaze. “You haven’t heard the worst. Rocket became one hell of an expensive steer overnight.”

“On Widow’s Ridge?”

Brad nodded. “He had help getting there, too. Either that or he’s learned to open and close locked gates.”

“Damn!”

“Looks to me like somebody’s trying to even a score, Flint.”

“Castrating a twenty-five-thousand dollar bull? No question about it.” Flint leaned back from his desk to rub the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. “But I’ll be damned if I can figure out who it would be or why.”

“Flint, you’d better get down to the barn,” Jed Summers shouted, rushing into the room. “Some kid’s shinnied the fence and is standin’ smack-dab in the middle of Satin’s corral.”

Flint grabbed the wide brim of his black Resistol, jammed it on his head and bolted from the chair. With both men hot on his heels, he covered the distance to the horse barns on the far side of the ranch compound where several of his men had gathered in horrified fascination.

For Flint time stood deathly still, and the air became smothering as the stallion bore down on the slender form inside the corral. Dust swirled where the stallion churned up dirt with his hooves, the beast’s intent clear. But to Flint’s amazement, the boy showed no sign of fear and sidestepped the charge at the last possible moment.

Black Satin’s blue-black coat gleaming, Flint watched the horse paw the ground and shake his head, preparing to make another pass. Flint felt a moment of hope when the unconcerned youth began a litany of unintelligible words the stallion seemed to consider, appeared to understand. But a muttered curse from one of the men broke the spell, and the horse reared on powerful hind legs, his hooves slashing the air as he screamed his rage.

Besides having a death wish, Flint couldn’t imagine what the kid was up to, but he’d seen enough. “Brad, ease around and open the gate,” he ordered, his voice a low monotone. “Jim, you and Tom get your ropes ready. If Satin doesn’t go for the pasture when that gate opens, I want a loop on him from each side.” Readying himself, he placed a booted foot on the bottom rail of the fence. “Hold him in a cross-tie long enough for me to get that damned kid out of there.”

When the horse failed to take the freedom the opened gate offered, Flint vaulted the fence and hit the ground running. His arms closed around the slight body at the same moment two ropes settled over the stallion’s neck. Tossing the youth over his shoulder, he hauled the kid from the corral.

“What the hell were you doing in there?” he demanded, setting the boy on his feet.

“My job.”

Flint started to berate the kid for pulling such a dangerous stunt, but his voice lodged somewhere between his vocal chords and open mouth when the brim of the lowered hat rose and twinkling, gray eyes locked with his startled gaze. Her unquestionably female lips forming a smile, the woman removed the battered Stetson, and a thick cascade of dark-blond hair fell to her shoulders.

“I’m J. J. Adams,” she said, extending her hand.

Flint felt as if a mule had kicked him right between the eyes. Ignoring the gesture, he allowed his gaze to slide the length of her. The curves disguised by her loose denim jacket suddenly became quite apparent. Firm, round breasts rose and fell with her labored breathing, and her jeans, worn white in certain tantalizing areas, were filled out to perfection.

He shook his head, and his gaze traveled back to her face. Lightly tanned, her cheeks glowed with a naturally rosy blush, making them appear to have been kissed by the sun. The effect was one makeup couldn’t achieve—no matter how expensive.

Her soft features and small-boned frame only confirmed what Flint’s brain tried to deny: she was a woman all right, and a damned good-looking one.

Jenna clamped her lips tight against a startled gasp at the man’s rugged features. He for darned sure wasn’t the type to suffer from the lack of female attention. He had a tiny, white scar at the corner of his right eye and a day-old growth of beard shadowed his lean cheeks. A muscle ticked along his firm jaw, but the dark-brown hair hanging low on his forehead seemed to soften his otherwise unhappy demeanor.

She swallowed hard. She would bet her best pair of dress boots that if he ever smiled he could charm a prudish old maid right out of her garters.

His wide, muscular shoulders, narrow hips and long, sinewy legs attested to the fact he kept himself in excellent physical condition. An amused grin played at her lips. When he’d hauled her out of the corral, he’d moved with the effortless power of a racehorse, and she had no doubt about the identity of the “Thoroughbred” glaring down at her. His authoritative presence, arrogant stance and dark scowl could only mean one thing. This was none other than Flint McCray, the lord and master of the Rocking M Ranch—her new employer. And at the moment he looked mad enough to spit nails.

Jenna’s smile widened. Time for the showdown. “I’m your new horse trainer. Sorry I’m late, but Daisy broke down just this side of San Antonio, and the mechanic had a hard time finding a universal joint for a truck of her considerable years.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what kind of scam you’re running here, lady, but I’m not buying it.”

When one of the men coughed in an obvious effort to stifle a bout of laughter, her new boss took hold of her elbow and started for the house. “The show’s over, boys. Get back to work. I want that herd up on Widow’s Ridge moved back down here by headquarters. Brad, you come with me.”

Several minutes later they walked into McCray’s study. It resembled any number of others she’d had the “privilege” to enter over the past few years. Leather and wood dominated the masculine domain and, without looking, she knew the shelves behind the desk housed books on the cattle industry, horse ranching and animal husbandry. Her gaze drifted to the opposite side of the room where, like most Texas ranches, a leather map of the property with the ranch brand burned into one corner graced the wall above the fireplace.

Nothing out of the ordinary, she decided, frowning in thought. On the mantel, beside the antique clock, sat a glass dome; the diamond necklace inside twinkled from the shaft of late-afternoon sun streaming through the window.

She sat in the empty chair beside the ranch foreman and tried to shrug it off. McCray’s life was none of her concern, and his choice of decorations of little or no importance. If he wanted to park a pile of cow patties on his fireplace, it was his business. But still, she found the delicate jewelry out of place in the otherwise masculine room.

Flint hung his hat on the hook beside the door, then lowered himself into the chair behind his desk. He eyed the woman seated across from him. He was having a devil of a time coming to grips with what had happened when he’d escorted her to the house. On contact, a jolt of electricity as powerful as if he’d grabbed hold of a 220-volt wire had run the length of his arm and exploded in his gut. If he had that kind of reaction just touching her elbow through the layers of her clothing, he wondered, what would happen if his hands roamed the silkiness of her soft skin?

He mentally cursed himself as nine kinds of a fool. The woman was running a scam and, distracted by her looks, he’d almost swallowed the bait.

“Before your face freezes in that awful frown, let me explain,” she said. “I use my initials for business purposes. My full name is Jenna Jo Adams.”

Her serene attitude grated on his nerves. “I’m sure you’ll understand I’d like to see some form of identification.”

Her smile accommodating, she took her driver’s license from the breast pocket of her jacket and handed it to him.

Examining her ID, Flint shook his head and gave it back. “You couldn’t possibly be Adams. He’s one of the top trainers in the business. That takes more years of skill than you are old.”

Her smile faded. “I’ve been working with horses most of my twenty-six years. And I’m good.” She shook her head. “No. I’m not just good. I’m damned good.” Raising one perfect brow, she added, “But age isn’t the issue here, is it?”

“No.” Flint had to give her credit. She had her share of pluck. But he didn’t need a gutsy female with an inflated opinion of herself around. He glanced at the glass dome on the mantel. He’d had enough of that type of woman to last him a lifetime. No, he needed a horse trainer. “I’d like to thank you for your time and trouble, but after careful consideration, I don’t think you’d be suitable for the job.”

Her expression calm, she smiled. “Why don’t you just come out and say it, McCray? J. J. Adams isn’t a man.”

Glaring back at her, Flint said nothing.

“When I spoke with Mr. Henson a few months ago, my gender didn’t seem to be a problem.”

Flint turned his attention to Brad. “You knew my expert trainer was female?”

“No.” Brad’s face mirrored his astonishment. “When I talked to Cal, he transferred me to his secretary and she—”

“Mr. Henson, you talked to me, and not once did I say I was Cal’s secretary.” Her eyes lit with amusement. “When Cal turned the phone over to me, I told you if there were no objections to the fee and requirements listed, you were to have Mr. McCray sign the contract and mail it back in care of the Lazy R.” Turning to Flint, she smiled. “Which you did.”

Flint picked up his copy of the document. “I signed this under the assumption I’d be dealing with a seasoned trainer. You couldn’t possibly have the experience it’ll take to turn a stallion like Black Satin into a reining horse champion, not to mention the strength to control him.”

“I’m not up to dancing this afternoon, McCray, so let’s stop two-stepping around what you’re really trying to say. You don’t want me training your horse—not for lack of experience or strength which, by the way, I have more than enough of. You’re having a problem with the fact that I’m a woman.”

Flint felt his control of the situation slip another notch. “You misrepresented yourself,” he said, waving the contract at her. “I won’t deal with anyone who uses deception to get a job.”

“I believe if you’ll take another look, you’ll find I haven’t deceived you in any way. My fee and what you may expect from my services have been spelled out in great detail.”

“Do part of your services include getting yourself killed?” Flint pointed his finger at her. “That stunt you pulled out there was one of the most harebrained I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ll admit my methods are unorthodox, but let me assure you—they work.” She shrugged. “Satin and I were getting along just fine, until you and your men got him excited.”

Jenna could tell her composure grated on the man’s nerves. Every point he brought up, she’d been able to shoot down with amazing ease. He was mad as a hornet and itching for a fight, but she refused to take the bait. Flint McCray would just have to get used to the fact that the best man for this job was a woman. Besides, she couldn’t afford to start canceling contracts if she ever intended to reach her goal. And she was close. Very close.

“I don’t want you training my horse,” McCray said tightly. “Satin is out of championship bloodlines and should have a great future. But after meeting you, I find you could be detrimental to my goals.”

Anger, swift and hot, raced through Jenna. If there was one thing she knew, it was how to turn a high-spirited animal into a top show horse. After all, she’d been a trainer for six years and around horses all her life. “Last year I had a second-place winner at the National Reining Horse Association Futurity, two that took first in similar competitions, and three of this year’s top contenders are horses I’ve trained.”

“You were highly recommended by Cal, Miss Adams. But—”

“But nothing.” She stood, braced her hands on his desk, then leaned forward. “If you had a valid reason for wanting to cancel the contract, I’d be the first one to rip it up. But you don’t. The fact that I’m a woman outside of a round pen or an arena is immaterial. When I step inside, I’m generic. I’m neither man nor woman. I’m a horse trainer. And that is all you should be concerned with.”

He rose from his chair to take a similar position on the opposite side of the desk, bringing them nose to nose. “I’m canceling the contract, Miss Adams.”

“The name’s Jenna, and you can’t. It’s ironclad, unless both parties agree on its nullification. And believe me, before I relent, chickens will start giving milk.” Walking to the door, she turned to smile at her enraged employer. “Check with your lawyer, boss. I think you’ll find I’ve covered all the bases. Either I get paid for training your horse, or I get paid for doing nothing. Period. It’s your choice. But let me remind you, my waiting list has the majority of your competition on it. The only reason I agreed to train your horse exclusively and put you ahead of my other clients was as a personal favor to Cal. Otherwise, a year from now, you’d still be sitting here with an untrained stallion.”

She closed the door behind her with a quiet click, but only managed to walk a few feet before she stopped to lean against the wall. Her whole body trembled, and her knees had turned to jelly.

She’d learned long ago to deal with a certain amount of animosity from some of the more narrow-minded horse-men. But when McCray attacked her abilities and experience, he’d crossed the line. If he’d explained from the beginning that he would rather not deal with her, or that he felt uncomfortable with the situation, she’d have considered letting him out of the contract. But there was no way she’d back down now. She had a point to prove.

Jenna smiled to herself. This would be a first for her. Along with training a horse for championship competition, she’d been presented with the golden opportunity of teaching a prized jackass a lesson or two in the bargain.

Her grin turned to a giggle when an enraged curse, then the sound of a receiver slammed onto its cradle, came from Flint’s office. Apparently his attorney had just given him the good news. J. J. Adams would train his horse and, short of paying her for nothing, there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

Smiling, Jenna pushed away from the wall. It was time to get her things from Daisy and find a place in the bunkhouse.

Flint rubbed his forehead in an attempt to ease the mounting tension. “Hilliard said he remembered the contract as being one of the clearest he’d ever seen. No gray areas or hidden loopholes. Either she does the job, or I pay through the nose to get out of it. Then I’d still have to find another trainer.”

“I should have checked around and found someone else,” Brad said, his expression dismal. “Cal didn’t say anything about J. J. Adams being a woman.”

“I’m not blaming you or Cal.” Flint glared at the closed door. “Miss Adams has obviously practiced this little deception before with her initials and gotten quite good at it. She had ample opportunity to identify herself when you discussed the contract. Besides, I should have had the name investigated before signing on the dotted line.” He leaned back, his gaze zeroing in on the glass dome on the mantel. “It might not be a bad idea to have her checked out, anyway.”

Brad rose to leave. “Do what you think is best. Since one of her requirements is a room in the bunkhouse, I guess I’d better get her settled in before supper.”

“No. She’s the only single woman under the age of sixty within a thirty-mile radius, and I won’t have her causing trouble among the men.” Flint followed Brad down the hall. “She can have one of the rooms upstairs.”

“I’ll tell her.”

Flint shook his head. “From now on, leave Jenna Adams to me. Let’s see how she likes dealing with someone who’s immune to the distraction of a pretty face.”

Leaving the house, Brad shrugged. “You’re the boss.”

Continuing down the hall to the kitchen, Flint called, “Whiskers, I need you to get one of the guest rooms ready.”

In an exaggerated flurry of activity, the old man stirred the contents of a large pot on the stove, then turned his attention to a ball of dough on the counter. “Ain’t I got enough to do without you comin’ up with more?”

“You sound a little hassled. Has Ryan been keeping you busy?” Flint asked, running his finger along the top of a chocolate frosted cake.

Whiskers picked up a wooden spoon to slap the back of Flint’s hand. “Stay outta that cake. It’s for supper.” He shook the spoon at Flint. “Ridin’ herd on that kid of yours is like tryin’ to keep a young buck out of a honky-tonk come Saturday night. It just cain’t be done.”

Grinning, Flint put a large amount of icing into his mouth. “You’ll have to take a nap before we eat.”

“Now, boy, you know I don’t never do more than rest my eyes a mite durin’ the day.”

Flint bit back his laughter. Whiskers’s snoring, while he “rested his eyes,” could stampede a herd of cattle.

“Where’s Ryan?” Flint asked, looking around for his son.

“Outside rustlin’ up a peck of trouble, I reckon.” Whiskers again stirred the boiling concoction in the pot. “I heard an awful ruckus comin’ from the office a while back. What got your nose outta joint?”

The chocolate flavor in Flint’s mouth suddenly tasted like mud. “The woman who’s going to train Satin.”

“Woman?” Whiskers turned to stare, openmouthed. “Was that the little gal I saw cross the yard and head for the bunkhouse?”

“Yes.”

“Have you gone loco? That ain’t no place for a lady.”

“I never intended for her to stay with the men.” Flint scowled as Whiskers headed for the stairs. “That’s why I told you to get one of the guest rooms ready.”

“Don’t just stand there bumpin’ your gums. Git out there and help that gal in with her things,” Whiskers called over his shoulder. Trudging up the steps, he continued to mutter. “Mule-headed sidewinder ain’t got the manners of a day-old jackass.”

Disgruntled by the whole situation, Flint searched for Jenna and found her in front of the bunkhouse. He stood by and watched her pull a scarred suitcase from the seat of an ancient, rusted-out pickup truck. As much as he would like to, he couldn’t ignore years of training in Texas etiquette and stepped forward to take it from her. “You’ll be staying up at the main house.”

“That’s not necessary, McCray. I’ll be comfortable in—”

“Your comfort doesn’t concern me,” Flint interrupted. He slammed the truck’s door. “I have a ranch to run, and I don’t intend to stand back and watch you turn my men into cowpunching Casanovas. You’re here for the sole purpose of training Black Satin, not to fill up your Saturday nights with romantic encounters. You’d do well to remember that.”

“Now, hold it right there, cowboy.” She poked his chest with her finger, the contact making him feel scorched. “I have no intention of socializing with your men, but if I did, it wouldn’t be any concern of yours. What I do on my own time is my business.” She wrestled the suitcase from him. “And don’t slam Daisy’s door. You’ll knock off the rust holding her together.”

She started for the house, but spun around to glare at him. “I don’t know what your problem is, but your attitude toward me sucks saddle soap. As long as I do my job, you have no reason to complain. And you’d do well to remember that.”

Flint watched her march toward the house. It shouldn’t matter to him what she did so long as his horse got trained. But the sight of her well-shaped backside and long, slender legs made his mouth go dry. Those legs of hers went all the way up to—

Disgusted with himself, Flint shook his head. Just how could he expect his men to turn a blind eye to something like that, when he couldn’t? He, more than any other man, should be immune to Jenna Adams and her considerable charms, after the way she’d duped him into hiring her.

But he’d be the first to admit she was one hell of a sight in a fit of temper. Her sparkling, gray eyes promised a passion that would consume a man when he loved her. And the husky quality of her voice had whispered over his senses like a piece of soft velvet. His body tightened. How would his name sound when she cried out as he pleasured her?

Flint took hold of the reins to his runaway imagination. Whiskers must have put locoweed in that damned chocolate icing, he decided, starting off in search of his son. He wanted to get better acquainted with Jenna Adams about as much as he wanted to get up close and personal with a rattlesnake. She would train his horse, then be on her way.

And that’s just the way he wanted it.

Two

Jenna placed the last of her clothes in the dresser, then turned to survey her room. Indian print curtains framed the tall, old-fashioned windows and matched the coverlet on the natural pine bed. On the wall above the headboard, a large dream catcher adorned with rawhide thongs and hawk feathers assured sweet dreams for the bed’s sleeping occupant. On the polished bedside table beneath lamps made from Native American pots, two Kachina dolls in the images of the eagle and buffalo stood watch.

She smiled. It wasn’t a feminine room by any means, but the bright colors against the off-white walls made it seem warm and friendly. “Just the opposite of its owner,” she muttered, heading for the stairs.

She followed a tantalizing aroma, stopping just inside the spacious kitchen to inhale deeply. “Something smells wonderful.”

Whiskers turned to give her a toothless grin. “Hope you like son of a bit—” His weathered cheeks reddened above his snow white beard. “—gun stew.”

Laughing, Jenna patted his arm. “I’ve had it before and no matter what you call it, I’m sure yours is delicious.”

He took a tray of sourdough biscuits from the oven. “Your room okay? It’s been a while since we’ve had us a lady round here, and it might not be as purty as what you’re used to.”

Jenna swallowed hard. How long had it been since anyone cared if she liked her room, or if she even had one?

“Everything’s fine,” she said around the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”

“Whiskers, look what I found.” A small boy of about four flung open the screen door and ran into the kitchen.

When the child spotted Jenna, he stopped so fast he almost dropped the box he held. “Who are you?”

“Ryan McCray, mind your manners,” Whiskers scolded. “You didn’t even give this here little gal so much as a howdy-do.”

“Sorry,” Ryan said, his smile friendly. “Howdy-do. Who are you?”

Jenna laughed when Whiskers sighed his exasperation. “I’m Jenna Adams.”

“Wanna see what I found, Jenna?” He held out his treasure for her inspection. “It’s a kitty.”

Afraid to move, Jenna and Whiskers froze.

“What’s the matter?” The puzzled child looked from one adult to the other. “He’s kinda smelly, but you can pet him.”

“That’s a dad-gummed polecat,” Whiskers exclaimed.

As if in slow motion, Ryan set the box on the floor and the three of them watched the half-grown skunk climb out. Jet-black with twin stripes of white running the length of its back, it waddled around the kitchen sniffing its new surroundings.

“Don’t nobody move,” Whiskers commanded, his voice reduced to a hoarse whisper. When the animal ambled toward the door, he reached for the broom in the corner, eased forward and used the handle to push open the screen. “Get Ryan outta here while I take care of this varmint.”

“I want my kitty,” Ryan protested loudly.

Afraid the child would upset the animal, Jenna placed her hand over Ryan’s mouth and backed them from the kitchen. But she’d only gone a few feet when she encountered an immovable object planted in the middle of the hall.

Flint tensed, every nerve in his body alert to the soft warmth of the female bottom resting against his thighs. His hands came up to hold her there. He told himself he was only trying to steady her, to keep her from falling. But turning to glance over her shoulder, her body shifted to brush the most vulnerable part of his anatomy and the jolt of awareness coursing through him felt as if he’d walked into an electric fence.

He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the urgent signals pulsing through his body. He had to focus on the way she’d maneuvered herself and Ryan from the occupied part of the house. A mixture of anger and suspicion overtook him. Had she been trying to kidnap his son?

“What in blazes are you doing?” Flint demanded, his voice echoing through the unnaturally quiet house.

An acrid smell suddenly permeated the air, followed by a vehement curse from Whiskers.

“Skunk,” she said, covering her nose.

Flint brushed past Jenna and Ryan to enter the kitchen. He coughed several times, then pinched his nose shut and scowled at Whiskers. “How did it get in here?”

“You’re gonna have to sit down and teach that young whelp of yours which critters to leave be,” Whiskers said angrily. “He thought the dad-burned thing was a cat.” He limped over to turn off the simmering stew, a colorful string of curses accenting his steps. “Now we ain’t got no supper, and we’ll be takin’ meals outside on the picnic table for a month of Sundays. And it’s all your fault. If you hadn’t started your bellerin’, I’d a had it outta here before it had a chance to spray it’s stink.”

“Daddy, I want my kitty back,” Ryan wailed from the hall.

“When was the last time you took a bath, Whiskers?” Brad asked, stopping just inside the back door. The other ranch hands piled up behind him.

Tom Davison fanned the air with his hat. “Whew-ee! This place smells like a cross between Jed’s feet and a damned old billy goat.”

“Whiskers, did you finally die and somebody just forgot to tell you?” Jim Kent choked out.

“Outside,” Flint gasped, bolting for the door. He stood in the yard taking cleansing gulps of air. When Whiskers came to stand next to him, Flint moved upwind. “Do you mind?”

“Consarnit all. It weren’t my fault that kid got hold of a polecat.” Whiskers pointed to Ryan when he and Jenna joined the group. “I cain’t figure out how he kept from gettin’ bit when he picked it up. Those things can have the hydrophoby, you know.”

Worried, Flint knelt down in front of his son and searched for any signs of an open wound. “Did it bite or scratch you, Ryan?” he asked, his voice sharpened by his concern.

Ryan’s chin quivered and he shook his head. “No. What’s hydo…hydotrophy?”

“Hydrophobia. It’s another name for rabies,” Flint explained gently. He gave Ryan a reassuring hug. “It’s a dangerous disease some wild animals carry. That’s why I don’t want you trying to catch any more of them. Understand?”

Ryan nodded, the matter forgotten. The wind shifted, and he wrinkled his nose. “You stink, Whiskers.”

Clearly exasperated, the old man opened and closed his mouth several times in search of epithets suitable for ladies and young ears. “Well, you don’t smell like no rose, yourself, boy.”

When his stomach rumbled, Jed asked, “What are we gonna do about supper?”

His complexion a sickly green, Jim swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down several times. “How can you think about your gut now? I’ll be off my feed for a week.”

“I can’t help it,” Jed complained, his stomach growling again. “I’m hungry enough to eat that danged skunk.”

Whiskers folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I ain’t goin’ back in there till the place airs a mite.”

Jed pointed to Jenna. “What’s she doin’?”

Flint turned in time to see Jenna take a deep breath and head back toward the kitchen door. Several minutes later, tears streaming down her face, she deposited an armload of luncheon meats, condiments and two loaves of bread on the picnic table at the side of the house. She coughed several times, but to his amazement she didn’t stop. She headed right back inside.

When she returned to add a six-pack of beer, several cans of soda and a bottle of tomato juice to the pile on the table, Whiskers elbowed Flint. “Don’t that beat all you ever seen?”

She wiped her eyes with her shirtsleeve and slumped down in the dappled shade of an oak tree. He and his men stared in awe.

Tipping his hat, Jed broke the silence. “Thanks, ma’am.”

“Whiskers, you…and Ryan need…to wash off…with the tomato juice.” She coughed several times, then leaned back against the trunk of the tree. “It should take care of the smell on your skin, but you’ll probably have to burn your clothes.”

Admiring her in any way was the last thing Flint wanted, but when he washed Ryan with the juice, he had to give her credit. She’d braved the pungent odor when the rest of them wouldn’t.

After helping Ryan into the clothes Whiskers had retrieved from the clothesline, Flint walked over to hand her a sandwich and can of soda. “Here. You’ve earned this.”

She took the soft drink, but refused the food. “Thanks, but I don’t have much of an appetite right now.”

Flint squatted down beside her, plucked a blade of grass and began to twirl it between his fingers. After what she’d just done for Ryan and his men, she deserved some sort of appreciation. But the words wanted to stick in his throat.

Damn. Eating crow wasn’t something he had to do often and it didn’t come easy. “I…appreciate what you’ve done.” He cleared his throat. “And earlier—in the hall—I guess I might have been a little harsh. But I’m sure you can understand, since my ex-wife died and I gained custody of him, I’m very protective of my son.”

Jenna gave Flint a suspicious look. He did seem to be trying to establish a truce, although it wasn’t exactly a gracious one. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’ve always been that way with my brother, Cooper, even though he’s older.”

Flint looked thoughtful. “Cooper Adams is your brother?”

Not surprised he recognized the name, she nodded.

“He’s one of the best bull riders I’ve ever seen. I watched him score a ninety-four at the rodeo in Mesquite and a ninety in Amarillo. Didn’t he make the National Finals a few years back?”

Jenna nodded. “Year before last he took second place in bull riding and fourth in the all-around competition.”

Ryan’s eyes grew round and he plopped down between them. “Wow! He must be real brave.”

Remembering another bull rider and the two thousand pounds of enraged beef that had ended his life, a shudder ran the length of her spine. She stared off into the distance. Forever etched in her memory, the image would haunt her until the day she died.

“Bulls can be very dangerous,” she finally managed.

“Daddy won’t let me go down to the bull pens.” Ryan glared at his father. “I’m not allowed to go around any of the animals without a grown-up.”

“Maybe he’s afraid you’ll get hurt,” Jenna offered, grateful for the distraction.

“Not my daddy. He’s not afraid of nothin’.” When he gazed up at Flint, Ryan’s expression instantly changed to admiration.

Jenna smiled at the pride in the little boy’s voice. She remembered thinking much the same about her own father. She reached out to ruffle Ryan’s hair. “I’m sure he isn’t.”

Flint watched with a trace of envy. How would it feel to have her run her hands through his hair?

Try as he might, Flint couldn’t erase the memory of how she’d felt when she backed into him in the hall. He glanced down at his callused hands. Her curves had filled them to perfection, and they itched to hold her again.

“I wanna be a bull rider when I grow up,” Ryan said, jumping to his feet, his face animated.

Snapped back to reality, Flint smiled and caught his son in midhop to swing Ryan up onto his knee. “Last week you wanted to be a Jedi knight. The week before that you were going to play a guitar and change your name to Garth.”

“I can still do all that stuff, too. But I wanna be a bull rider and go to all the rodeos.”

“I’ll clean the kitchen while the men finish eating,” Jenna said suddenly, rising to her feet.

Flint shook his head. “No. We’ll—”

“Are any of you willing to volunteer for Purge Patrol?” she asked the men gathered around the picnic table. Gazes darted off to the distant horizon and boots shuffled, but the men remained silent. She turned to walk toward the house. “I rest my case.”

What kind of game was she playing now? Flint stared after her. If she thought being helpful would pardon the way she’d tricked him with that contract, she was in for a big surprise.

He gave himself a mental pat on the back for a lesson well learned. Now that he knew how she operated, there wasn’t any kind of scheme she could think up that he couldn’t deal with.

Jenna stepped out onto the front porch to watch the golden glory of the setting sun fade into indigo darkness. Like a comfortable quilt, a wondrous tranquility began to settle across the land, and pinpoints of light dotted the vast heavens above. The chirp of crickets soon introduced a chorus, and bass-throated bullfrogs down by the creek joined in. Somewhere in the distance, spotlighted by a full moon, the mournful solo of a lone coyote completed the lullaby, transforming the evening into a hymn of praise by nature’s wild creatures.

Despite the warm temperature, Jenna wrapped her arms around herself to ward off a chill. This time of night always reminded her of her solitude.

It wasn’t supposed to have turned out this way, she thought sadly. Life should be shared.

“Nice night, isn’t it?”

Startled, she spun around to find Flint leaning against one of the support posts in a shadowed corner of the porch. “I didn’t know anyone was out here.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Embarrassed that he’d witnessed her pensive mood, she dropped her arms to her sides and turned back to watch the last glimmer of light slip below the horizon.

Several minutes stretched between them before Flint spoke again. “The smell has cleared out of the kitchen. Thanks.”

Jenna shrugged. “The skunk didn’t bless us with a full dose, and what he did spray missed the porous surfaces. Nothing the tomato juice and ammonia couldn’t take care of.”

“That’s all it took?”

She smiled. “A large amount of elbow grease and a can of air freshener helped.”

“How did you know what to do?”

“Just something I picked up along the way.” She walked over to the swing and sat down. “When you’ve traveled as much as I have, you learn things without remembering how or when.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” he said, his voice containing a hint of suspicion. “Usually the horse goes to the trainer, not the other way around.”

Jenna started the swing into motion. Let him think what he wanted. But instead of ignoring him as she intended, she found herself trying to explain. “I find a horse is more relaxed in a familiar environment, and it’s much easier to gain his trust. Once I’ve done that, I can teach him just about anything.”

Flint pushed away from the post and walked over to sit on the porch rail in front of her. “So, you’ve been traveling around like this a long time?”

“All my life.”

“Wildcatter’s daughter?”

She shook her head. “Daddy followed the rodeo circuit.” She stared out into the darkness. “Home has always been a camper on the back of a pickup truck.”

A frown creased Flint’s brow. “Now, hold it. You had to have stayed somewhere long enough to get your education.”

“Momma taught us for a while.” Jenna swallowed hard. She didn’t want to remember certain events of her childhood. It was too painful. “Later, Cooper and I kept up with our studies by correspondence until we’d earned the equivalent of our high school diplomas.”

The night suddenly closed in and, disturbed by unpleasant memories, she rose from the swing. “I’d better get some sleep. I’d like to start Satin’s training first thing in the morning.”

“Is there anything special you’ll need?”

“No. He’s already wearing a halter, so I assume he’s trained to lead?”

Flint nodded.

She opened the screen door, but turned back, only to collide with his broad chest. His large, callused hands caught her shoulders to steady her, and Jenna’s stomach did a wobbly cartwheel at the sight of his handsome features so close to her own. He stared down at her for several long moments. She watched his firm lips part, heard his harsh intake of breath. When he gathered her more fully against him, her pulse pounded in her ears at the intense desire in the depths of his slumberous, brown eyes, and the scent of his clean, masculine skin.

She brought her hands up to push herself free. But the feel of his rock-hard chest made her knees go weak, and she found herself clinging to his solid strength for support. How could a man she didn’t even know cause her to go into total meltdown? More important, why was she allowing it to happen?

Somewhere in the back of Jenna’s mind an inner voice cautioned that she was flirting with disaster. But when Flint’s lips came down on hers to brand her with his kiss, the warning faded into oblivion.

His hands roamed from her shoulders to tangle in her thick hair, and every cell in her body tingled to life. His thumbs slid along the column of her throat, and a molten surge of need gathered at the core of her. She tried to press her thighs together against the sweet pain of mounting desire, but the heat of Flint’s muscular leg, lodged between hers, had the intense sensations threatening to consume her. She tightened her legs around his in an effort to ease the burn and heard a groan rumble deep in his chest. Cupping her behind he pressed her higher along the rough denim covering his thigh.

The slamming of a door somewhere inside the house jolted Jenna back to reality, and she pushed against him. “Please—”

Releasing her, she watched Flint jam his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and walk over to lean against the newel post. His back to her, he took a deep breath. “Was there anything else you needed, Jenna?”

His sudden withdrawal and dispassionate tone helped to douse the last traces of her desire. “No.”

Bewildered by her body’s betrayal, and furious with herself, she allowed anger to take charge. She tried to wipe away the feel of his kiss with the back of her hand. “And I certainly didn’t need that.”

“You didn’t turn it down.”

“I didn’t ask for it, either.”

Flint turned to face her, his smile meaningful. “Come on now, darlin’. We’re both too old to play games. Why else would you force yourself into my arms?”

Outraged, Jenna saw red. “I turned to ask you to keep your men away from the corral tomorrow while I work with Satin. Nothing more.” She jerked the screen door open. “Let’s get something else straight while we’re at it. You grabbed me. And if you weren’t so full of yourself, you’d admit it, McCray.”

The sting of Jenna’s words hit like a physical blow as Flint silently watched the door bang shut behind her. He had reached for her, but only to steady her, to keep her from falling. What he couldn’t figure out was why he’d allowed it to go beyond that. Maybe it had been the way she’d looked up at him with those big gray eyes—eyes that promised not only ecstasy and fulfillment, but mirrored a loneliness as deep as his own.

He cursed a blue streak. Whatever the reason, when he felt her soft, pliable body beneath his hands he’d displayed all the finesse of a steam roller.

Flint stepped off the porch and headed for the east pasture to check on the herd. He had to forget the feel of Jenna pressed against him, the taste of her lips clinging to his.

He shook his head. Why he’d allowed her to get under his skin remained a mystery. But one thing was certain. No matter what her eyes promised or how tempting the moment became, he wouldn’t let it happen again. He’d learned long ago that beyond the green of his money, he was nothing more than a dust covered cowboy with very little to offer a woman. It was a lesson he’d learned the hard way. And he kept the diamond necklace he’d bought for his ex-wife in a glass dome in his office to make sure it was one he wouldn’t forget.

He’d just been too long without a woman’s softness, that’s all, he reasoned. Every man needed physical release from time to time. And he was overdue. Way overdue.

Jenna lay awake long after she left Flint. She’d had time to reflect on the incident, and her anger had cooled toward him, but not with herself. He might have initiated the encounter, but she could have called a halt to it at any time.

So why hadn’t she?

She stared at the ceiling, listening to Flint climb the stairs and go into his room. What was there about the man that made her so spineless? Had he been as effected by their kiss as she’d been?

She’d been kissed many times before and never felt the way she had tonight. But the moment he’d taken her into his arms, her common sense had flown away like a big, green bird.

Not even Dan’s kisses had brought her to such a fevered state. And she’d loved him.

A mix of guilt and sadness suffused her when she thought of the young man she’d promised to marry. By now they should have been getting ready to celebrate their sixth anniversary. But life had taught her that plans change and guarantees for happiness weren’t handed out for the asking. Dan had died that day on the dirt floor of the rodeo arena, and she’d had to learn to get on with her life.

Jenna impatiently wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, turned to her side and forced herself to relax. She’d wasted enough time feeling sorry for herself. She had a new horse to work with tomorrow, and she needed rest to meet the challenge. Besides, trying to figure out her reaction to Flint McCray was like trying to solve a crossword puzzle with no clues.

Drifting toward the peacefulness of sleep, the sound of shots being fired brought her to instant awareness. Rolling to the side of the bed, she landed on the polished hardwood floor with a jarring thump. Her hand hit the nightstand, and something sharp pierced her palm, but after a startled cry, she ignored the pain and began inching her way toward the door.

Maybe she should reexamine her position on insisting Flint honor their contract, she thought, her heart pounding hard against her ribs. If she was going to have to dodge rifle slugs, she’d be more than glad to go.

When the door crashed open, Jenna barely had time to cover her head with her hands before a large body landed on top of her.

Three

“What in God’s name are you doing on the floor?” Flint roared.

He levered himself to a sitting position. The light of the moon, shining through the part in the curtains, illuminated Jenna’s still form and the thin line of blood trickling down the side of her face. His heart stalled right then and there. He couldn’t tell the extent of her injuries, but clasping her shoulders, he hauled her up into his arms.

“I’m…warning you…McCray—” she took a deep breath “—if this keeps up, I’m going to demand hazardous-duty pay in addition to my regular fee.”

“Did you see or hear someone?” he asked, cradling her to his bare chest.

“No.”

Her warm breath against his skin sent a shiver snaking down his spine and a fire burning at his gut. Damned if she didn’t feel made to fit his arms. He cleared his throat to get words past the cotton clogging his throat. “Then why did you scream?”

“I have a tendency to do that when people shoot at me.”

“Shoot at you? You mean, you thought…” Relieved, he couldn’t help it. He laughed out loud. “That was Whiskers’s truck backfiring.” Remembering the blood, he sobered instantly and tightened his embrace. “Where are you hurt?”

“My hand. I hit it on something when I rolled out of bed.”

Flint had a hard time concentrating on what she said. Her small, scantily clad body felt wonderful, and the intensity of his reaction stunned him. He was overwhelmingly, completely, undeniably aroused. And it had almost been instantaneous.

He shook his head and tried to ignore his mounting desire. He had to have just set some kind of record. A man of thirty-three wasn’t over-the-hill by any means, but he for damn sure wasn’t a randy teenager with nothing but seething hormones racing through his veins. Over the years he should have gained at least a modicum of restraint.

Distracted by his changing body, it took him a minute to realize Jenna was pushing against him. He got to his feet and pulled her up with him. “Let’s see about your hand.”

Pulling her out into the hall, he turned on the overhead light and gulped back a groan when his eyes adjusted to the brightness. Here he stood, harder than the Rock of Gibraltar, gazing down at the half-naked woman responsible for his almost painful state. Now how was a man supposed to ignore a situation like that? It would take a saint or a blind man to overlook the possibilities. And Flint was neither.

He cursed under his breath and tried to ignore the outline of her nipples pushing at the thin fabric of her T-shirt. He normally considered T-shirts shapeless and unappealing. But this one draped her to perfection and made him want to run his hands under the hem, to expose every inch of her to his hungry eyes.

That wouldn’t take much, he decided. The damned thing barely covered her panties and exposed enough delectable skin to send his blood pressure up fifty points.

Sounding like the pop-off valve on a pressure cooker, he expelled the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The phrase, Calf Ropers Like It Tied Up, printed across the front of the garment had his imagination running wild and his body right along with it.

“Wait here,” he said, his voice more harsh than he intended. He forced himself to move toward his room. It wasn’t her fault his imagination already had them all but experiencing the throes of passion. But her eyes had perused his body like a lover’s caress, and heaven help him he’d loved every minute of it.

Jenna watched Flint walk down the hall to his room. When he turned on the light, it had taken all of her strength to keep from staring at his perfectly sculpted chest and washboard stomach. A thin coat of dark-brown hair covered muscles made hard by years of physical labor, and from his tan she would bet he often removed his shirt while he worked.

She swallowed hard when she remembered the narrow, dark line arrowing down below his navel to draw attention to the open snap at the waistband of his well-worn jeans. Jeans that hung low on lean hips and emphasized the fact that he was all male and thoroughly aroused.

She was only seconds away from having to fan herself when he walked back into the hall, jamming the tail of his shirt into the waistband of his jeans.

“Put this on,” he ordered, shoving a robe into her hands.

The fabric caught on a large splinter protruding from her palm, causing her to wince.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Let’s go see to your hand.”

“What about Ryan?” she asked, belting the robe.

Flint took her by the elbow to usher her toward the stairs. “His room is on the other side of the house. I was checking on him when you screamed. He’s so active during the day, by bedtime he could sleep through an all-out war.”

When they entered the office, Jenna sat in the chair across from Flint’s desk and held her hand out for his inspection. “It’s just a splinter. No big deal.”

He whistled low. “It looks like a log.” Retrieving the first aid kit from his desk, Flint took her hand in his. He examined the wound, his large hand dwarfing hers. She knew she shouldn’t, but she liked the contrast.

“Have you had a tetanus shot recently?” he asked, his attention on her hand.

“I make sure I keep all my immunizations current.” His hands engulfed hers as he worked to remove the splinter and she wondered how they would feel caressing her—

“Ouch!” Her erotic thoughts shattered when he continued to probe for any traces of wood he might have missed. “What are you trying to do, McCray? Drill for oil?”

He poured hydrogen peroxide over the area, applied an antiseptic ointment, then wrapped her hand in gauze. “I think I got it all, but it’ll probably be sore for the next few days.”

Jenna glanced up when he continued to hold her hand. Their gazes locked and the charge of excitement coursing between them took her breath. When he took an antiseptic pad and sponged the blood from her cheek, she wondered if she’d ever breathe again. Shaken by the feel of his hand caressing hers, the gentleness he displayed wiping her face, she jerked her hand from his.

“Why do I get the idea you wouldn’t have been surprised if someone had fired shots at us?” she asked, cursing her breathless tone.

Jenna settled back into the armchair to focus her attention on Flint. She wasn’t going anywhere until she had an explanation. Besides, at the moment, she seriously doubted her legs would support her.

“You might as well tell me what’s going on. I have a right to know.”

“It’s none of your business.”

She jerked her thumb toward the door. “What happened upstairs just made it my business. You weren’t altogether sure I hadn’t seen someone. If I’m going to have to be looking over my shoulder, I’d like to know why. It’s something I don’t take lightly.” She gave him a pointed look. “And I don’t think you do, either.”

Flint slumped into the chair behind his desk and ran a weary hand over his face. If their positions were reversed, he’d be pounding on the desk, demanding an explanation.

But her calm demeanor unsettled him, and suspicion began to cloud his mind. Could Jenna already be familiar with the situation? Was she somehow involved in stealing his cattle? Why hadn’t she been hysterical when she thought someone was shooting at her? Nicole would have been. Hell, his ex-wife went off the deep end when she broke a fingernail.

“We’ve had some trouble with rustlers,” he stated, watching for her reaction.

“Spreads the size of the Rocking M will always be targets of cattle thieves,” she said. “But rustlers usually steer clear of a ranch headquarters. Besides, stealing cattle is one thing. Prowling around an occupied house is an entirely different matter. And that’s exactly what you thought had happened.”

“It’s just been the past couple of days that things have started getting ugly.” He searched for any indication she might be aware of the situation. When he found none, he continued, “Last night they castrated a twenty-five-thousand-dollar bull.”

She sat forward, her eyes wide. “Why wasn’t an animal that valuable closer to the house?”

“He was. Somehow he managed to get through two locked gates and across a six-hundred-acre pasture.”

“He had help,” she said flatly. “Have any other ranchers had similar problems?”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

“This is more than just a case of cattle rustling,” she stated. “It sounds like someone is trying to seek revenge.”

“But I’ll be damned if I can figure out who it is or why they’re doing it,” he agreed. He wasn’t used to talking with a woman about his ranching problems. Nicole had never cared what went on as long as the money kept rolling in.

“Have you checked with the state brand inspectors?” she asked. “They should be able to tell you who brought the cattle into the stockyards. Maybe you could catch them that way.”

Flint propped his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepled his hands in front of him. She certainly knew enough about the workings of the cattle industry to implicate her, but then so did most people used to being around livestock. And her shock at the mutilation of the bull seemed genuine.

Jenna Adams was either a damned good actress or innocent of any involvement. One way or the other, he’d know for sure when the investigator finished running a check on her background.

“Of course I’ve notified the authorities,” he answered. “But the only cattle with the Rocking M brand that have gone through any of the yards are the ones I’ve sent.”

She arched a brow. “Then where are they? They didn’t just vanish into thin air.”

“The sheriff found some hides bearing our brand in a remote area about seventy-five miles from here,” Flint answered. “From all indications, the rustlers are butchering the cattle in the back of a refrigerated trailer. By the time they reach the packing house, the beef is dressed out.”

“No hides. No evidence,” she said, nodding. “But what about the USDA? Why haven’t they caught the uninspected beef?”

He shrugged. “Who knows? It could be an inspector on the take or a packing house with a counterfeit stamp.”

He left his chair. “Either way, it doesn’t make much difference. After the events of last night, I’d say they’re getting impatient. It’s just a matter of time now before they screw up.” His voice grew cold, his smile deadly. “And when they do, I’ll be there to nail the bastards.”

As she rose to her feet, a shiver ran the length of Jenna’s spine. She wouldn’t want to be in the rustlers’ boots when he caught up with them. One look into those intense brown eyes told her Flint McCray could be a very dangerous adversary.

She felt Flint’s gaze boring a hole into her back as she climbed the stairs and entered her room. In his eyes, she knew no one was above suspicion. Not even her.

But that didn’t matter. He could think whatever he liked. But if she’d known he had this kind of problem on his hands, she might not have been so insistent that he honor their contract.

She shook her head and immediately dismissed the thought. Running from trouble was a coward’s way out.

And no one had ever been able to call Jenna Adams a coward.

“I tell ya, Jed, I thought I had that truck fixed or I’d a never loaned it to you last night,” Whiskers said, wiping the counter. “If Flint hadn’t said it scared Jenna into hurtin’ herself when it backfired, I’d a sworn you made it up.”

“Believe me,” Jenna said, entering the kitchen. “It happened.”

“Mornin’, Miss Adams.” Jed pointed to her bandaged hand. “After what happened last night, I’ll bet you’re just about ready to cut your losses and run.”

She shook her head and sat down to a delicious-looking plate of biscuits and gravy. “It’ll take more than a splinter to keep me from training a potential champion.”

“Flint said you got hurt,” Whiskers said, worriedly. “Maybe you’d better not try to work with Satin this mornin’.”

Touched by his concern, Jenna smiled and held out her bandaged hand for his inspection. “I’ll be fine. I’ve worked with much worse injuries than this.”

“I just don’t like the idea of a little gal like you climbin’ in the corral with that black devil,” Whiskers stated, picking up Jed’s plate to scrape the contents.

“Hey, I’m not finished,” Jed complained.

Whiskers placed the plate in the sink. “Yes, you are.”

Jed started to protest, but stopped when a gnarled finger pointed his direction.

“Somebody has to keep track of the vittles you poke down, cause it’s for danged sure you don’t know when to push away from the table.” The old man propped his hands on his hips. “The rest of the men finished up fifteen minutes ago. Now, get your shiftless butt outta here so I can get my work done.”

Jed jumped to his feet. “If you keep mean-mouthin’ people, somebody’s gonna tear your head off and shout down the hole.”

“Then who’d feed your worthless carcass?” Whiskers asked.

“That’s the only thing holdin’ me back, old man.” Jed grabbed his hat and walked through the door.

Shaken by the man’s obvious anger, Jenna’s appetite deserted her. “I’m not very hungry, Whiskers.” She rose from the table. “But thanks, anyway.”

“You cain’t be done.” When she nodded, he threw up his hands. “No wonder you’re such a puny little thing.”

“She has to be wiry and quick to work with horses like Satin,” Flint said, walking into the room.

Jenna ducked her head to conceal her astonishment. That wasn’t the argument he’d used yesterday when he tried to break their contract. He’d accused her of not having the strength to work with his horse, or any others, for that matter. What had changed his mind?

She decided to ignore the comment. All her concentration needed to be focused on Satin and his training. If she allowed her mind to wander while she worked with the stallion, she could confirm Flint’s first observation. And she’d rather run naked through a briar patch than let that happen.

She adjusted the shotgun chaps she’d put on before coming downstairs. “Speaking of Satin, I’d better get started.”

Flint’s mouth went dry when he noticed the way the leather hugged Jenna’s slender thighs and framed her blue-jeans-clad buttocks. He shifted from one foot to the other and swallowed hard. It was all he could do to keep from reaching for her.

For the life of him, he couldn’t forget what had taken place last night on the porch and in the hall. Her legs had felt incredible tangled with his when he’d kissed her. And the memory of her, half-naked, lying in his arms on the floor, had already driven him to a cold shower this morning.

Flint observed the way the open seat of the chaps emphasized the movement of her firm little bottom as she walked toward the back door. He thought his mouth might drop open.

“Dinner’s at twelve,” Whiskers called after her. His eyes dancing merrily, his toothless grin wide, he turned back to Flint. “Unless the big bad wolf gets ahold of her first.”

It took every ounce of effort Flint could muster to keep from turning a deep crimson. He should have known Whiskers would notice his discomfort. The old man had the eyes of a hawk.

Whiskers laughed. “I’m glad to see you takin’ an interest in that little filly. She’s a danged sight more tolerable than the one you used to be hitched up to.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Flint lied. He removed his hat from the peg beside the door. “I have no interest in Miss Adams aside from her training Black Satin.”

“Is that why you look like you’re gonna make her your next meal?”

Flint turned to glare at his housekeeper. “Dammit, Whiskers. I don’t—”

“Save it, boy. I’ve had the oven on this mornin’ and there’s already plenty of hot air in this kitchen.” Whiskers moved to the table to stack plates. “If I was forty years younger, I’d lasso her myself. Mark my words, that little gal’s a keeper if ever I seen one.”

“I have no intention of keeping her or any other woman.” Flint’s scowl deepened. “If you’ll remember, I gave it a try and it turned out to be a disaster.”

Whiskers waved a spoon at Flint. “Any time you play with a wildcat, you’re bound to get scratched. I told you about that woman before you ever got yourself hitched up to her. She’s the very reason you’re gun-shy now.”

“I’m not gun-shy.” Flint shook his head. “I just don’t intend to make the same mistake twice. That’s all.”

“There ain’t no way you could with Jenna.”

“Just when did you become an expert on women?”

Whiskers put the dishes in the sink and poured them each a cup of coffee. Motioning for Flint to take a seat, he lowered himself into a chair on the opposite side of the big oak table. “You can tell a quarter horse from a Thoroughbred, cain’t you?”

Flint knew he should let the matter drop, but instead of walking away, he sat down. “What do horses have to do with women?”

Whiskers grinned. “Jenna’s like a quarter horse—”

Flint laughed. “I’m sure she’d be flattered by the comparison.”

“Are you gonna shut your trap and listen?”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“Well, like I was sayin’, she’s pretty, but she’s got a lot of heart, too. She don’t let things make her skittish when there’s a job to be done.” Whiskers nodded. “Yessiree, when the chips are down, she’d be right there givin’ all she had and wouldn’t give up until she couldn’t go no more—just like a quarter horse.” The old man’s voice took on a disgusted tone. “On the other hand, Nicole was a true Thoroughbred. A real beauty to look at, but flighty and temperamental as hell. Give her a cross-eyed stare and she couldn’t even make it to the startin’ gate, let alone run the race.”

“But there’s one thing you’re forgetting,” Flint reminded him.

Puzzled, Whiskers scratched his beard. “What?”

“I don’t need a woman. I’m happy with my life. I have Ryan and the ranch—”

“Horse spit! You and Ryan rattle around this place like BBs in a boxcar. A house this size needs a whole passel of kids. And you need a little gal like Jenna to cozy up to so you can get ’em.”

His cup halfway to his mouth, Flint stopped to glare at the old man. “Have you lost your mind, Whiskers? I just met the woman yesterday.”

“And you’ve been in a hot fizz ever since,” Whiskers shot back.

Flint gritted his teeth, then lied right through them. “I have not. As far as I’m concerned, Jenna Adams is an employee—the same as Brad or any of the others.”

Whiskers shook his head and got to his feet to start the dishes. “I never thought I’d live to see the day I’d be callin’ Flint McCray a liar.”

Without a word, Flint placed his cup on the table, rose from his chair and left the house. He stopped in the middle of the ranch yard, his hands clenched into tight fists. He took a deep breath in order to calm himself.

But in all honesty, being called a liar wasn’t what had Flint’s anger close to the boiling point. It was the truth in Whiskers’s words. The old man’s observations had been right on the money. He had been tied in knots since Jenna’s arrival. And Flint didn’t like at all that it was so damned obvious.

Jenna shortened the lunge line until Satin became more manageable. She loped him in a tight circle around her for a few more minutes, then tied him to a post for grooming. She recognized the signs of an active mind and an over-abundance of energy. But unlike some horses she’d trained, he wasn’t rebellious and difficult.

He did have a tendency to become aggressive and try to charge when excited or frightened, but she knew it stemmed more from him being a stallion and pasture raised, than from a hatred of humans. Once he learned there was nothing to fear, she would train him to channel his spirited nature into a constructive pattern and turn him into a champion reining horse.

“Hi,” she said when she noticed Flint standing at the fence. She’d wondered how long it would take him to check on the progress she was making with his prized stallion.

“How did it go this morning?” he asked after she’d turned the horse into the small pasture behind the corral.

“Pretty good.” She coiled the rope she held. “He has a lot of potential.”

“He seems to have settled well.”

“High-energy horses usually do, if you can keep them from getting bored.” She turned to watch the stallion gallop across the pasture. “That’s why I prefer a varied program for horses like Satin. His temperament can’t tolerate the monotony of constant drilling exercises.”

“What do you have planned this afternoon?”

“Nothing.” She let herself out of the enclosure. “He’s had enough for now. Tomorrow I’ll repeat what he’s learned today and introduce a new activity or two.” She shrugged. “The next day I may only work with him for a half hour or so.”

Flint scowled. “Isn’t that wasting time?”

“No.” She started for the house. “It’s a precaution.”

He caught her by the arm. “Since my money is paying for this, would you care to elaborate?”

Jenna felt the tingling begin where his hand clasped her upper arm, then make a beeline to the pit of her belly. Why did he have to do that? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone and let her do her job?

Her gaze locked with Flint’s a moment before she pried his fingers, one by one, from her arm and turned to walk away.

“You didn’t answer me. I want to know why you’re wasting the afternoon.”

She needed to escape his disturbing presence in order to regain her equilibrium. But Mr. Can’t-Leave-Well-Enough-Alone wasn’t about to cooperate.

She turned to face him, her voice terse. “Satin has a high mental energy as well as physical. That has to be taken into account when planning his training.” When Flint’s scowl deepened, she blew out an exasperated breath. “Wouldn’t you say you’re a person with a lot of drive?”

“Yes, but—”

“How would you like to have a job doing the same repetitive task day after day?”

“I’d quit.”

“Exactly. You’d get frustrated with the lack of mental challenge.” She pointed to the pasture. “Satin’s like that. He needs to be kept guessing as to what we’re going to do next. It keeps him interested and his attention on the task at hand.”

His mouth twitched a moment before a roar of laughter rumbled up from his chest. “You mean to tell me you practice horse psychology, too?”

Jenna felt like punching him. “If I were you, I wouldn’t think it was all that funny, McCray. From what I’ve seen, you and your men haven’t done such a great job with him.”

His grin disappeared. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Satisfied she had his attention, she smiled sweetly. “You called me, remember? Evidently you recognized he was beyond your limited realm of experience.” She started for the house. “Leave his training to me and you’ll have a champion. Interfere and you’ll be stuck with the results.”

Flint stood rooted to the spot. He watched Jenna march the distance to the back door, but he didn’t dare move for fear of exploding. He’d been raised in the saddle, and she might just as well have called him a greenhorn.

He spun around and went to the pasture where the working horses were kept. He caught and saddled his favorite gelding, then loaded fencing supplies and a hammer into a set of saddlebags.

When he swung up into the saddle, Brad called, “Where are you going? It’s dinnertime.”

“To blazes with dinner,” Flint growled.

He touched his spurs to the horse. He’d ride fence, check to see if he could find any sign of who might be causing all the trouble and hopefully forget he’d ever heard of Jenna Adams.

Dealing with Flint McCray was like trying to convey a message to a rock, Jenna thought as she climbed the stairs to her room. Shout at it, try to reason with it, even ignore it. The results were the same. Stubborn and immovable, the damn thing just sat there waiting to trip you up.

She closed the door behind her, then stripped out of her chaps and dusty clothing. Maybe a good sit-down, soak-until-you’re-pruny bath would help her relax. She walked into the adjoining bathroom, turned the water taps on and eased herself into the big, claw-footed bathtub.

Since her arrival on the Rocking M, her emotions had been yanked around like a yo-yo, with Flint controlling the string. He’d accused her of deceiving him to get the job, scoffed at her training abilities, kissed her in a way she’d never been kissed before, then accused her of pushing herself at him. Now they’d come full circle. They were back to scorn and doubt.

Jenna reclined against the cool porcelain. Why did she find it so hard to resist Flint?

She closed her eyes and tried to remember the reason she’d come to the Rocking M, the job she had to do. But images of Flint kept flashing through her mind. His mouth descending on hers. His warm, firm flesh beneath her fingers. His body pinning her to the floor.

She sighed. The man could drive a saint to sin with his kiss and a pacifist to violence with his stubbornness.

Unfortunately, any way she looked at it, Flint was the most infuriating and, at the same time, seductive man she’d ever met.

Flint rode into the ranch yard well after dark. Bone tired, he slowly dismounted and led his horse into the barn. He’d searched every inch of Widow’s Ridge for anything left by the rustlers that the sheriff might have missed, tightened strands of barbed wire and repaired the hinges on every gate he came to, whether they needed it or not. He’d worked off his anger, but hadn’t found a clue as to the rustlers’ identity or been able to tire himself enough to forget his new horse trainer and the way she made him feel. The woman had the unbelievable ability to make him furious enough to choke her, and hard as granite, all at the same time.

In retrospect, Flint had to admit he wasn’t as angry with Jenna as with himself and his reaction to her. For some unfathomable reason, when she stood up to him and managed to hold her own in an argument, he found it incredibly sexy and arousing.

She met him as an equal, using the admirable weapons of logic and reason to get her point across. Things a man could identify with, understand.

And that was what threw him off balance. He wasn’t used to those qualities in a woman. His ex-wife hadn’t possessed them. Nicole had relied on tears and tantrums to get her way.

“Flint, we need to talk,” Brad said, entering the barn.

Flint studied his foreman’s tense expression. Whatever Brad had to say would be better faced over a drink. “Let me wash up first. I’ll meet you in the study.”

“I’ll pour the Scotch,” Brad said, walking from the barn.

Fifteen minutes later Flint sat behind his desk, his hand gripping a glass of amber liquid. “They got another twenty head last night?”

His face grim, Brad nodded. “I hate to say it, but it’s my guess someone here at the ranch is involved.”

Flint’s mood darkened. “There’s no other explanation. Whoever’s doing this has to have somebody here feeding them information. I didn’t decide to bring that herd up to the east pasture until late yesterday afternoon.”

“What I can’t figure is who it would be or why,” Brad said. “All the boys have been with us for some time, and I haven’t heard any complaints about the work or the pay. If one of them had an ax to grind, you can bet I’d have wind of it by now.”

“Well, whatever the reason, it’s crystal clear somebody’s out to destroy the Rocking M,” Flint said dispassionately. “And me in the bargain.”

Four

A trickle of sweat slid down Jenna’s spine, and she rotated her shoulders to dispel the odd sensation. When the rivulet slipped below the waistband of her jeans, she decided this was as close to hell as she ever cared to get.

A gentle breeze ruffled the leaves on the tall oak tree at the side of the house, but did little to diminish the oppressive, midafternoon heat. For more than a week temperatures had been soaring as a heat wave baked the panhandle with blast-furnace intensity, and she’d even had to change her working schedule with Satin to early morning in order to keep from overheating.

His round little cheeks flushed from the heat, Ryan asked, “Are you gonna play? It’s your turn.”

Jenna glanced at her cards. “Do you have any fours?”

“Go fish!”

She smiled at his triumphant giggles and reached to take a card from the pile between them. But movement in the distance caught her attention, and her smile faded. She had no idea who the rider was, but he should be shot for running a horse flat out in this kind of heat.

When the animal drew closer, Jenna’s eyes widened and her breath lodged in her throat. The stirrups of the saddle slapped wildly against the horse’s ribs, the seat ominously empty. The sight of a riderless horse usually indicated a cowboy in trouble and was a major source of anxiety in big-ranch country, especially in this kind of heat.

Jumping to her feet, Jenna threw her cards on the picnic table. “Go get your dad, Ryan.” Knowing that many horses headed for the barn or corral after finding themselves without a rider, she ran toward the enclosure where the working stock were kept.

She was waiting when the gelding came to a shuddering stop in front of the closed gate, his chest lathered with sweat, foam dripping from around the bit in his mouth. Approaching slowly to avoid startling the agitated animal, she reached up and took hold of his bridle to keep him from shying away. She cringed when she noticed the reins, wrapped around the saddle horn. It was an undeniable indication the rider’s departure from the saddle had been sudden and quite unexpected.

“What happened?” Flint called, his long strides closing the distance between them. “Where’s Jim?”

“I’d say he’s somewhere between here and wherever Brad assigned him to work,” Jenna answered. Running a reassuring hand along the gelding’s neck, she eased to the horse’s heaving side to loosen the cinch. “Did Brad go over the schedule with you this morning?”

Flint nodded, his features grim. “Jim was supposed to check the grazing conditions up at Devil’s Gorge.”

“What’s up, Flint?” Whiskers asked when he and Ryan reached the pair.

“Looks like Jim’s gotten himself into a wreck,” Flint said, heading for the barn. When he returned, he placed the saddle he carried on the top rail of the fence, then caught one of the horses in the corral. “I’ll ride up there—”

Jenna started through the gate to catch one of the other horses. She couldn’t bear the thought of staying at the ranch when she might be of some help to the friendly young cowboy. “I’m going with you.”

Flint blocked her path. “No, you’re not.” He shook his head as he led the bay from the enclosure. “This isn’t a pleasure trip, Jenna.”

“Don’t be a stubborn jackass, McCray.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “You’ve got a man down out there somewhere with God only knows what kind of injuries, and the sooner he’s found, the better.”

His eyes narrowed, he stopped his preparations to stare at her over the horse’s back. “My main concern is finding Jim. Once I cross the dry wash up there, I’ll be traveling over some of the roughest country this side of hell. It isn’t even accessible by truck. I for damn sure don’t need the added responsibility of watching out for you.”

She raised her chin. “I can take care of myself. Besides, two riders can cover more ground than one.”

“She’s got herself a point,” Whiskers agreed. “You’re gonna have to bring Jim out on horseback. If he’s busted a leg or something, you might need the extry help. Me and Ryan can meet you with the truck this side of the dry wash, in case he needs to see a doctor.”

Flint didn’t like his options one damned bit. Why did his only source of help have to come in the form of a petite, desirable blonde? His reaction to her made him as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. And after making a fool of himself several times in the first twenty-four hours of her arrival on the Rocking M, he’d made it a point to avoid her like the plague.

He’d kept himself busy during the days with hard, back-breaking work in order to ease the ache he’d had since that first day. But at night, when he lay alone in his bed, the physical exhaustion did little to erase the taste of her sweet lips, the feel of her softness pressed to his body.

Flint frowned as he checked his watch. Damn! He didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t wait for his men to get back from their assigned areas of the ranch to start a search. There wouldn’t be enough daylight left, and Jim might be in need of immediate attention.

Cursing under his breath, Flint jerked the sorrel’s reins from Jenna and handed them to Whiskers. “Cool down Jim’s horse.” He ignored the old man’s knowing grin and turned back to Jenna. “I’m going up to the house for some medical supplies. If you’re not ready to go by the time I get back, I’ll leave without you.”

Whiskers rolled his eyes. “You sure know how to sweet-talk a gal.”

Flint ignored the comment and headed to the house. What he wanted to do with Jenna wouldn’t require words, but it for damned sure would be sweet. Shaking his head, he entered the study, collected the first aid supplies and packed them into a set of saddle bags. He needed to keep his mind on what had to be done.

When he returned to the corral, he shoved a rifle into the boot on his saddle, then tied the saddlebags and an extra saddle blanket to the back. “I’m warning you right now,” he said, a muscle along his jaw tightening. “If you can’t keep up, you’re on your own. I’ll go on without you.”

Jenna mounted the buckskin she’d saddled. “Don’t worry. If I take a fall, you can always do the decent thing and put me out of my misery.”

He sucked in a sharp breath and thought about the misery he was experiencing. Beads of sweat that had nothing to do with the afternoon heat popped out on his forehead and upper lip. One look at Jenna’s slim legs wrapped around the buckskin had his jeans feeling way too small, and his throbbing body reminded him he was about as miserable as a man could get.

“Don’t tempt me,” he growled. Hoping his face revealed none of the battle raging within his taut body, he shoved his boot in the stirrup and gingerly swung up into the saddle.

Whiskers watched Flint and Jenna nudge their horses into a lope and head in the direction of Devil’s Gorge. Disgusted, he shook his head as he looked down at Ryan. “When you get to be a young buck and wanna start courtin’, remind me to be the one to teach you bout how to chitchat with a gal.”

Flint focused on the heat waves shimmering in the distance as he and Jenna made their way toward Devil’s Gorge. When a slight breeze whispered past, mesquite branches stirred and prairie grass swayed, but instead of relief, the flurry of hot air only made the heat more stifling.

His concern for Jim grew the farther they went. Flint had hoped to meet the man somewhere along the trail. Maybe a little red-faced at losing his seat and having his horse head for home, but nonetheless, moving on his own steam. But the closer they got to the gorge, the less likely that eventuality became.

Apparently, Flint’s worse fears were going to be confirmed. Jim was most likely down and not moving at all.

A heavy cloak of guilt settled over Flint. He should be shot. He’d tried to insist Jenna stay behind, when in truth he could use all the help he could get in his search to find Jim.

But along with worrying about Jim, Flint had also been concerned with the torment his own nervous system suffered every time he got close to Jenna. That’s why he’d exaggerated a little about the area being the roughest country this side of hell.

Okay, he admitted to himself, he’d exaggerated a lot. But the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to spend. And that was something he wasn’t exaggerating.

Jenna followed Flint as he crossed the wash and threaded his way through the outcropping of knife-edged rock. He hadn’t spoken more than twice since they’d left the ranch, and that was just fine with her. For the past few days, Flint McCray had all the personality of a wooden fence post, and she’d just as soon try to communicate with one as to hold a conversation with him.

Oh, she hadn’t expected him to fall all over himself with gratitude when she’d offered to help him search for Jim. But she hadn’t thought he would act like a badger with a hangnail, either.

She wouldn’t have persisted in coming along, but a downed cowboy in this kind of heat could dehydrate rapidly, and finding him as soon as possible could mean the difference between life and death. She’d come along for Jim’s sake, not because she wanted to spend more time with Mr. Congeniality.

“How do you manage to get cattle in here, McCray?” she asked, guiding her horse around another boulder.

“We bring them in from the east. There’s a narrow pass about four miles from here. This is a shortcut.”

They rode in silence for several more minutes, before she pointed to the vultures tracing slow circles in the sky not far ahead. “That doesn’t look good.”

“Damn! I was afraid of this.”

Nudging their horses into a lope, they approached the spot directly beneath the birds.

“There he is.” Jenna winced at the sight of the still, crumpled body. Praying they weren’t too late, she jumped from the buckskin and ran to the man’s side. “Jim. Jim, wake up.”

Flint knelt and placed his fingers against the young cowboy’s neck.

“Is he—” She couldn’t bring herself to voice her fear.

Flint shook his head. “His pulse is strong. But I’d say he’s well on his way to dehydrating.” Taking a canteen from his saddle, he wet Jim’s bandanna. “Here, see if you can bring him around so we can get some water into him.”

Jenna knelt so her body shielded the man’s scorched face from the blazing sun. “Come on, Jim.” She bathed his parched skin with the cloth. “You’ve got to wake up.”

She watched Flint retrieve the saddlebags from his horse, then open Jim’s shirt to run his hands along the cowboy’s torso. “I’d say from that bruise on his side, he might have a couple of cracked ribs.” His face grim, Flint nodded at the odd angle of Jim’s lower leg. “And his leg’s broken just below the knee.”

When Flint used his pocket knife to cut Jim’s jeans and peeled back the fabric, he muttered a succinct curse. The sight of the twisted leg caused Jenna to turn away and swallow against the bile rising in her throat.

“You going to be all right?” Flint asked.

“Yes.”

She turned back to face him, and her expression told Flint she was relying on pure grit to do what had to be done. “Good, because the swelling around his boot is cutting off the circulation to his foot. I’m going to need you to hold his leg steady while I try to get it off. Think you can do it?”

Her face pale, Jenna’s resolute gaze locked with his. “Yes.”

The sparkle of determination in the clear, gray depths of her eyes, the squaring of her slender shoulders, convinced Flint that Jenna was a pressure player. She wouldn’t turn tail and run, no matter how unpleasant the situation became. Even if she had to rely on sheer raw nerve, she’d see the job through to the end.

Unbidden, Whiskers’s sage words whispered through his mind. When the chips are down, she’d be right there givin’ all she had and wouldn’t give up until she couldn’t go no more.

On impulse, Flint reached out, placed his hand at the nape of her neck and pulled her forward for a quick, hard kiss. “Hang in there, darlin’. You’re doing just fine.”

His lips, pressed even briefly to hers, sent a shockwave straight to the pit of his belly. He’d only meant it as a gesture of encouragement, but his body wanted to argue the point.

“Ready?” Flint asked, determined to ignore the tightening in his groin.

He watched Jenna clamp her lips together, then reach down to steady Jim’s leg. He could tell this was hard for her, but she wouldn’t give up. He admired that kind of grit.

Flint split the side seam on the boot’s shaft. “Hold him tight, while I try to ease this off.”

Regaining consciousness, Jim groaned. “Hurts…like hell.”

“Just a little bit more, partner.” To help distract the man from his obvious pain, Flint asked, “What happened?”

“Coming back from the gorge…I caught sight of a coyote dragging a calf hide.” Jim’s breath caught as Flint worked to free the swollen foot. When the pain eased a bit, Jim continued, “Like a damned fool, I dallied the reins around the saddle horn, pulled my rifle and gave chase. I never figured on running across a buzzy-tail, though. One whiff of that rattlesnake and old Red went berserk. He piled me in two jumps, then kicked me in the ribs for good measure.”

Flint worked to free Jim’s foot. “Did you get the coyote?”

“Hell, no!” Jim chuckled feebly. “That old prairie wolf turned around pretty as you please and watched the rodeo. Then I swear it sounded like he had a good laugh as he trotted off.”

“He probably did. I imagine you and Red put on quite a show.” The foot finally pulled free of the boot, and Flint blew out a relieved breath. He handed Jenna his canteen. “Here, try to get some water into him.”

When she placed the canteen to Jim’s cracked lips, he took a sip, then gazed up at her. “Damned nice to wake up lookin’ into the face of an angel.” Paling, his lopsided grin suddenly turned to a grimace.

“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.

Five

“Give 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?”

He looked over the top of her head and in the distance watched Ryan enter the house. He’d be inclined to deck whoever had the nerve to doubt his honesty. But he wasn’t the one in question.

“You used your initials on our contract, knowing full well I’d think you were a man. That’s the same as fraud, darlin’.”

“Would you have hired me otherwise?”

“No.”

“It’s men like you who force me to use J.J., instead of my full name. And it’s not fraud. Those are my initials.” She poked his chest. “And let’s get something else straight, cowboy. No matter what you think of me, I don’t have affairs.”

“Darlin’, just because a beautiful woman’s integrity is in question, that doesn’t keep a man from wanting her.”

“I’ve calmed down,” she said suddenly. “You can let me go.”

Flint felt the fight go out of her. Loosening his hold, he reluctantly let her slide off the horse.

“I’m flattered you think I’m attractive, McCray.” She started toward the house. “But I happen to believe it wouldn’t be called lovemaking, if love wasn’t supposed to be involved. As far as I’m concerned, one won’t happen without the other.”

Jenna had just finished running the brush through her recently dried hair when Ryan raced into the room. “Are you going with us? I’ll let you hold my puppy.”

“But what about supper? Won’t Whiskers be upset if we aren’t here to eat?”

Ryan’s expression brightened. “Oh, Daddy said we’d get some hamburgers and stuff at Heartburn Heaven before we go to the dog place.”

“Where on earth is that?”

“That’s what Whiskers calls all the hamburger and taco places. He says if we’re boneheaded enough to eat there, we oughtta get sick.” The child shook his head. “But we don’t. He just says that.”

“Don’t tell Whiskers,” she confided, “but I eat at places like that quite a bit when I’m traveling.”

His face eager, Ryan asked, “Does that mean you’ll go?”

Jenna hesitated. After their talk on the way back from the creek this afternoon, the prospect of spending an evening with Flint might not be wise. “Does your dad know you were going to ask me?” she stalled.

“Oh, yeah.” The child nodded so hard his hair flopped on his forehead. “Daddy said I could. Are you ready to go?”

“I guess so,” she said not wanting to disappoint the child. She did need to pick up a few things, and it would save her a trip later.

Ryan grabbed her hand and when they walked into the kitchen, Flint stood by the door, a surprised expression on his face.

Jenna stopped short to look at the child still tugging her along. “I thought your dad knew you were asking me to go.”

“He said I could.” Ryan turned to Flint. “Didn’t you, Daddy?”

Flint searched his memory. Excited about getting a dog, Ryan had chattered from the moment Flint entered the house. He’d even followed Flint upstairs and tried to talk to him while he took his shower. But with the water running, and preoccupied by his conversation with Jenna, he hadn’t understood much of what Ryan had been asking and answered with “Fine,” “Sure” and “We’ll see.”

He’d learned a lot about parenting in the few months since Ryan came to live with him, but Flint still had a long way to go. Evidently, paying closer attention when he agreed to something was to be his most recent lesson.

“Of course I told him to ask you,” Flint lied. In truth he wished he’d thought of asking her himself.

Jenna looked doubtful. “Maybe I should stay here.”

“Please, Jenna,” Ryan pleaded, tugging on her sleeve. “I want you to come.”

“Go on and have a good time, gal,” Whiskers called from the pantry. He limped into the kitchen. “This past week you’ve been busier than a one-legged man in a butt-kickin’ contest. You deserve some time away from the ranch.”

“I don’t want to impose.”

Flint could tell by her wary look that she had her doubts about going anywhere with him after their talk this afternoon. Leaning close, he whispered, “I never figured you for a coward.”

He laughed out loud when she brushed past him and headed for his pickup truck.

Several hours later Flint couldn’t help feeling dazed as he pulled away from the animal shelter and drove toward home. Whiskers had agreed to having one dog in the house. But what would he do now that Flint had adopted three?

Somewhere along the line, and not exactly sure how, he’d lost control of the situation. But when Ryan couldn’t decide which puppy to choose, and Jenna turned pleading eyes to him, he’d caved like an aluminum can in a vise.

He shook his head. He must be getting soft in his old age. If they’d asked him to, he’d have adopted the whole damned canine population of Texas rather than disappoint either one of them.

“Jenna, will you hold me?” Ryan asked. “Betsy used to hold me when I got sleepy.”

She glanced at Flint.

He nodded. “We’re on Rocking M land now. There won’t be any more traffic.”

Jenna released the catch on Ryan’s seat belt and took him into her arms.

“I like you a lot, Jenna,” Ryan said, snuggling against her breasts. “You’re soft.”

She treated Flint to a withering glare when she heard his choked laughter. “Watch it, cowboy.”

Glancing down at the now-sleeping child, she kissed the top of his small head. “Was Betsy his nanny?”

Flint shook his head.

“Betsy was their maid. She was a decent woman, but she didn’t have a lot of time to give Ryan.” Jenna noticed all traces of amusement disappear and his grip tighten on the steering wheel. “I doubt Nicole held Ryan more than a dozen times in the four years she had him.”

Jenna gazed down at the cherubic face lying against her breasts. “But she was his mother.”

Flint cocked a brow. “You’ve been around ranching enough to know that just because a female gives birth doesn’t mean she’ll mother her young. I’ve seen more than one cow reject her calf, no matter what tricks you use to get her to accept it.”

“Yes, but people are supposed to be different from cattle.”

She watched his expression harden. “If the instinct to nurture isn’t present, there isn’t much you can do about it.”

Jenna swallowed hard. It was something she knew all too well from personal experience. “Then why didn’t you—”

“Try to get custody of Ryan before Nicole’s death?”

She nodded.

“Until my ex-wife died in that accident, I didn’t even know I had a son,” he said, his tone bitter.

Jenna looked at Flint, but he stared straight ahead, his face tight with anger. No wonder he had a deep distrust of women. “How could she do that?”

Flint laughed, but the sound held no humor. “If you’d known her, you wouldn’t ask that. Nicole had a vengeful streak a mile wide. When we divorced, she tried to hurt me by getting part of the ranch. It didn’t sit well when the judge ruled in my favor. The last thing she ever said to me was that one day she’d get even.”

“So she kept her pregnancy a secret?”

Flint nodded and steered the truck onto the long drive leading up to the house. “One of the things that came between us was the fact I wanted children and she didn’t. Keeping Ryan from me was the ultimate revenge. And the longer she deprived me of time with my son, the sweeter it became.” He turned his head to look at her, his eyes reflecting how deeply he’d been hurt by his ex-wife’s deception. “I was cheated out of precious years with Ryan I’ll never get back.”

The thought of anyone using a child in such a callous way made Jenna feel ill. Quiet tears slipped down her cheeks as she touched Ryan’s baby-soft cheek. She felt a kinship with the child. Although her own mother hadn’t ignored her children before leaving them, she hadn’t loved them enough to stay.

Flint parked the truck and came around to take Ryan, but Jenna hugged his son close. When her eyes met his, the anguish in their pearl-gray depths, the shimmering tears, rendered Flint speechless.

He swallowed hard as he wiped a tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. He hated to see a woman cry, but Jenna’s tears tore at his insides. “What’s wrong, Jenna?”

“Ryan will never understand why his mother treated him that way,” she said, her voice cracking.

Flint cupped her face with his hands. “How do you know that, darlin’?”

Another tear slipped down her cheek. “When I was nine, my mother walked away and never looked back. She was there to put me to bed one night, and the next morning she was gone.” Her voice caught on a sob. “I grew up wondering if I’d done something to make her stop loving me. For a long time I thought that if I’d been different in some way, she might have stayed.”

“It wasn’t your fault, darlin’.”

She nodded. “It took me a long time to realize that I’d done nothing wrong. That it was my mother’s way of getting back at my father for traveling the rodeo circuit and not settling down in one place.”

Flint helped her from the truck, put his arm around her, and they silently walked to the house. He wanted to take her into his arms, wanted to erase the pain. But when they reached the house, Jenna placed Ryan in his arms.

“What your ex-wife did to you was deplorable, and you have every right to be bitter about it. But what she did to Ryan was worse. She used him as a pawn in her game of revenge.” Her hand trembled as she touched Ryan’s cheek. “The innocent are always hurt more by vengeance than the intended victim.”

Long after he’d put Ryan to bed and settled the puppies down for the night, Flint thought about what Jenna had said. Ryan had been the one to suffer the most in Nicole’s quest for revenge.

Why hadn’t he seen that? Had he been just as blind when it came to seeing other things as well?

It appeared he had. Otherwise he would have recognized that Jenna never had been, nor would she ever be, anything like his ex-wife.

Six

Jenna released a contented sigh as she leaned on the fence and watched Black Satin run across the pasture, tail held high, master of his domain. But when a set of muscular arms eased around her midriff from behind, she tensed. She’d been so preoccupied with appreciating the stallion’s beauty, she hadn’t heard anyone approach.

“You’d better back off,” she warned. “I’ve got a gun in Daisy that can turn you from a stud to a gelding faster than you can blink. And I damned well know how to use it.”

“You wouldn’t do that to the guy who gave you that gun and taught you what to do with it, would you?” the man whispered close to her ear.

“Cooper!” Jenna turned in his arms. Overjoyed to see her brother, she hugged him close. “Where— How…”

“Slow down, little sister,” he said, laughing. “I stopped by Cal Reynold’s place in Houston, and he told me where to find you.”

Jenna hugged him again. “I’m so glad to see you. How long can you stay?”

Cooper shrugged as he stared off into the distance. “You know me. Always headed to the next rodeo.”

Happy to see her brother for the first time in months, she refused to let anything dampen her spirits. “I don’t want to think about that. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

When they turned to walk to the house, Cooper asked, “Do you think the foreman of this spread will mind me putting up in the bunkhouse for a couple of days?”

She hesitated. Brad wouldn’t have any objections, but the way Flint had been avoiding her since their trip into Amarillo a week ago, it was anybody’s guess. “I don’t think it will be a problem.”

Cooper stopped, his stance rigid. “Has somebody been giving you a hard time?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Just say the word, little sister.” Cooper playfully chucked her chin. “I’ll straighten them out.”

Jenna grinned as she stepped back in an exaggerated stagger. Some things never changed. Older brothers the world over had certain rights. They could pick on, tease and even ignore their younger sisters, but let someone else try it and the end results were always the same—a free-for-all.

She heard the door slam and turned to see Flint coming across the yard like a charging bull.

“Is he the one causing you trouble?”

“Well, not exactly—”

His stance ready for battle, Cooper shoved her behind him. “Let me take care of this.”

“You got business here?” Flint asked, storming up to them.

“Maybe I do,” Cooper drawled. “What’s it to you?”

“Around here we don’t hit women.”

Cooper shrugged. “Where I come from we don’t give women a hard time.”

Jenna looked from one man to the other. The situation was explosive. Flint was as mad as a grizzly with a tail end full of buckshot, and Cooper had his Rambo look firmly in place. If she didn’t do something soon, all hell would break loose.

“Settle down—”

“Stay out of this,” both men ordered at the same time.

Before either man could land a punch, Jenna wedged herself between them. “Stop it! Both of you!”

She placed a hand on each man’s chest to keep them apart. “Do either one of you know who you’re about to fight? Or why?”

Neither man answered as they stood glaring at each other over the top of her head.

“I didn’t think so.” She turned to Cooper. “In case you’d like to know, this is my boss, Flint McCray.” She treated Flint to the same scathing look. “And I’d like you to meet my brother, Cooper Adams.”

Stepping from between them, Jenna threw her hands in the air. “Now, if you’d like to continue, you can beat each other senseless for all I care.”

Both men watched her march to the house like a four-star general on field maneuvers, then eyed each other carefully.

Now that he’d calmed down, Flint could see the resemblance. Though his eyes were blue instead of gray like Jenna’s, Cooper Adams had the same dark-blond hair, the same stubborn chin.

“I didn’t recognize you,” Flint said. “You can’t tell much about a man’s looks from the seats of an arena, and when I saw you clip her on the chin—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Cooper grinned. “It’s nice to know somebody’s looking out for my kid sister when I’m not around.”

Smiling, Flint stuck out his hand. “Welcome to the Rocking M.”

“Still upset, little sister?” Cooper asked, walking up to the corral to drape his forearms over the top rail.

Jenna finished brushing Satin’s ebony coat before turning to face him. “Yes and no.”

Cooper gave her a lopsided grin and pushed his tan Resistol back with his thumb. “You’re still mad at me. But you forgive me because I’m your brother and I’m as lovable as an old teddy bear. Right?”

“And you’re starting to push that.”

She led Satin through the gate to the pasture, unsnapped the lead rope, then slapped him on the rump to let him know he had the freedom to run. Walking over to where Cooper leaned on the fence, Jenna eyed her brother. His voice sounded a little too casual, his smile forced.

“Why are you really here, Cooper?”

All traces of humor gone, he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “Maybe I just wanted to see my kid sister.”

“Yeah, right. Now why don’t you put on a tutu, wave a magic wand and tell me a fairy tale.”

When Cooper finally looked at her, his blue eyes had turned bleak and his shoulders slumped. She’d only seen her brother this way once before. The morning he had to tell her their mother had left.

“Cooper?”

“Is there somewhere we could go to talk?”

Thirty minutes later Jenna watched Cooper tear off blades of grass, then throw them into the lazy current of the stream while she waited for him to tell her what was troubling him. It had always been this way with them. When life dealt them a blow they found difficult to cope with, they’d always sought out the other’s council. But they never pushed, never pressured the other to speak before they were prepared to share their feelings. When Cooper was ready, he would tell her. Until that time, she simply waited.

“Have you ever wondered what you’d do if you couldn’t train horses anymore?” Cooper finally asked.

“I haven’t really given it a lot of thought,” she answered. “But I suppose I’d try to stay involved with horses in some way.”

Her hopes rose as she anticipated what he was about to tell her. She’d prayed the day would come when Cooper stopped competing, stopped gambling with fate. He’d been a successful rodeo cowboy for a long time, but the odds were stacking up against him. Fast. Riding the rough stock took its toll, and at the age of thirty, he was considered a seasoned veteran.

He propped his forearm on his bent knee and stared out across the open prairie. “I’ve never thought much beyond getting to the next rodeo, paying my entry fee and making the eight-second whistle. Riding bulls and saddle broncs has been my life for over twelve years. It’s all I know.” When he turned to face her, his eyes mirrored his anguish. “I’m going to have to quit, little sister.”

Her brother had lived and breathed rodeo all his life. It was a part of him—who he was. To take that from him would remove a vital part of his identity. It had to be devastating.

“How did you come to your decision, Cooper?”

“I’ve lost my edge.” He stared out across the prairie. “I’ve had a few close calls lately.”

“Oh, God!”

Cooper put his arms around her. “It’s all right, honey. I shouldn’t have said anything. It still bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“It always will.” She pulled away from him, her eyes anxious. “When do you plan to quit?”

“I’ll make my last professional ride next week in Amarillo.”

“You’re not waiting until the end of the season?”

Cooper shook his head. “I’m too far down in the standings to make the finals this year, and it’s getting harder to scrape together the entry fee.” When he tried to smile, it looked more like a grimace. “No sense blowing money on a lost cause.”

All rodeo cowboys had a competitiveness few other sports matched, and Jenna knew what this confession cost her brother. For years he’d pitted physical strength and mental capabilities against the most rank bulls and wildest horses the stock contractors could deliver. Now to admit he’d lost his edge was like admitting defeat. He had come out the victor in a few battles, but the war was over. The beasts had finally won.

“I think you made the right decision,” she agreed. “Only a fool continues to play when he knows the game is over.”

“That’s what I figure.” Cooper plucked another blade of grass and thoughtfully chewed on the end. “Are you going to come watch me take my last ride?”

It was Jenna’s turn to stare off into the distance. “You know I can’t do that, Cooper.”

They remained silent for several minutes before Cooper spoke again. “You can’t keep blaming the rodeo for all the things that have gone wrong in your life. Mom left because she always wanted bigger and better. It wouldn’t have mattered where we lived or what Dad did for a living. She never would have been satisfied.” He threw the blade of grass into the stream. “I think Dad always knew she’d take off one day. He just didn’t know when.”

“But if it wasn’t for rodeo, he and Dan would still be alive,” she said, suddenly angry.

Cooper shook his head. “You don’t know that. Accidents happen. They could have been hurt crossing the street or falling down a flight of stairs.” He captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger, then forced her to meet his eyes. “Fate plays a big part in whether or not your number’s up, little sister. If it’s meant to happen, it will. And there’s not a whole lot you can do about it.”

Small puffs of clouds skittered past the sliver of moon hanging low in the inky sky as Flint watched Jenna walk along the oak-lined drive leading away from the house. They hadn’t talked since the incident with her brother. In fact, this was the first Flint had seen of her since this afternoon.

And if he had any brains, he’d make himself scarce now. The more he was around her the more he wanted to get to know her and the more he wanted her to get to know him.

But when he moved away from the porch rail, Flint found himself descending the steps and walking straight toward her. He tried to tell himself he only wanted to discuss Black Satin’s progress.

Falling into step beside her, he searched for something to say. Damn! Had he forgotten how to make small talk? He grinned. He wanted to make something with Jenna all right, but small talk wasn’t it.

“Did you have something on your mind, McCray?”

Oh, yeah. “No. I just thought I’d explain about—”

“You don’t have to. I know you and Cooper couldn’t help yourselves.” She shrugged. “Jackasses are jackasses. Plain and simple. Dye their coats a different color, weave flowers in their manes, stick a hat on them, it doesn’t change a thing. They’re still jackasses.”

He stopped walking to stare at her a moment before he laughed. “I guess I had that coming.”

“Damned right you did,” she said, grinning back.

They stood staring at each other. Without warning, the atmosphere suddenly became charged with anticipation, the dark shadows of night breathtakingly intimate, and the warm breeze a whispered voice of sultry promise.

Jenna shivered when she saw the deep hunger in Flint’s eyes, his fierce need. “Flint, I don’t think—”

“I don’t, either,” he whispered. “Not when I’m around you.” He reached out to pull her to him. “Right now, all I want to do is feel, darlin’.” He brushed her lips with his. “You.” Again his lips caressed hers. “Me.” Yet again. “Together.”

Her arms encircled his narrow waist, her hands splaying across his broad back. How was a woman supposed to resist words like that? Flint’s mouth moved across hers with such infinite care, she found she didn’t want to resist. She wanted to feel his arms around her again, taste the desire on his lips, hear his heart beat in time with her own.

Her body heated as Flint kissed her like she’d never been kissed before. Worshipping her lips, he outlined them with his tongue, nipped at them with his strong white teeth, then soothed them with nibbling little kisses.

“Open for me, darlin’.”

With no thought of protesting, Jenna did as he commanded. His gentle stroking sent a frenzied surge of excitement racing to every nerve in her system, and hot, enticing desire settled in the pit of her belly.

For the first time in her life Jenna cast aside her inhibitions and gave herself completely to Flint’s kiss. Boldly she allowed her tongue to meet, then dance with his. A heady sense of feminine power came over her when the deep, rumbling groan of his pleasure echoed across her sensitive lips.

The fever of Flint’s need burned higher, hotter, brighter than anything he’d ever imagined, when Jenna’s inexperienced tongue played a game of advance and retreat with his. His hands traveled the length of her back to grasp her hips and pull her to him, letting her know how she made him want her.

He reveled in her softness warming his arousal, the way her body molded to his. “Feel what you’ve done to me?”

Her breasts were crushed to his chest, her nipples were branding him with their pebble hardness. He felt a fire building in his soul. He knew that when they finally came together, it would be sheer perfection. Two halves of a whole, unequivocally complete.

As he stood staring down into her passion-glazed eyes, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He had the distinct feeling they were being watched.

To hide her from the prying eyes, Flint held her close and glanced around. They had walked well out of sight of the house, so it couldn’t be Whiskers or Ryan. Besides, the eyes watching them now were sinister, filled with hatred. He could feel it in his bones.

His first thought was to get Jenna back to the house and out of danger. Then, and only then, would he come back to seek out the identity of the voyeur.

“Jenna, I could stand here like this all night, but we’ve got company,” he whispered close to her ear. When she tried to jerk from his grasp, Flint held her tight. “I want you to stay right beside me. We’re going to walk back to the house like nothing’s wrong. But if I give the word, I want you to run like hell and don’t look back. You got that?”

She nodded. “Who do you think it is?”

He draped his arm across her shoulders and started toward the house. “I don’t know. But he can’t be up to any good or he’d make his presence known.”

They walked at a steady, seemingly unhurried pace, and when they entered the study, Flint breathed a sigh of relief. He’d felt that same malevolent stare all the way back to the house and knew they’d been followed. Closing the door behind them, he grabbed the phone and alerted Brad, then went to the gun cabinet.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He removed a Winchester with a scope from the rack and shoved cartridges into the magazine. “Just stay here.”

“But I could—”

“I said stay put,” he ordered. “Brad’s going to meet me down at the barn. Whoever it was probably took off once we got back to the house.” He pumped the lever on the rifle down, then back up, loading a cartridge into the chamber. Releasing the hammer slowly, he readied the weapon for immediate action and headed for the door. “But I want to see if he left something behind that will tell me who he was and what he’s up to.”

“Be careful.”

Flint turned back to brush her soft lips with his. “Count on it, darlin’. We have unfinished business.”

The first fingers of light hadn’t cleared the horizon when someone knocked on the study door. Looking up from the breeding register in front of him, Flint called. “Come in.”

“You have a minute?” Cooper asked.

“Sure. Have a seat.”

After Cooper settled himself in the chair across from Flint’s desk, he rested the ankle of one leg on the knee of the other, then hooked his hat on the toe of his boot. “Jenna said you’ve had some trouble lately.”

Flint nodded. “At first it was just some missing cattle. But lately it’s started getting nasty.”

“So I’ve heard. Jenna mentioned someone watching you and her last night.”

“Brad and I found some tracks, but that was about it,” Flint admitted. “Jed was down by the brood mare barn, but he didn’t see anyone, either. Whoever it was cleared out pretty fast.”

Cooper laughed. “The rules of the game always change when a Winchester gets involved.”

Flint watched the man’s eyes. He had more on his mind than trespassers. “You got something you’d like to say, Adams? If so, spit it out.”

“I like you, McCray. You’re a hell of a nice guy.”

“But?”

“This thing between you and Jenna has me worried. I don’t want to see her hurt.” Cooper’s gaze clashed with Flint’s. “She’s already had more than her share.”

“I don’t see how—”

Cooper held up his hand. “I know she comes across as capable of handling anything. And to a certain extent that’s true. But when Jenna gives her heart, she holds nothing back.”

Flint didn’t quite know what to say. He wasn’t about to insult the man’s intelligence by denying there was something going on between himself and Jenna. He glanced at the diamond necklace in the dome on the mantel. Thanks to his ex-wife, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready to acknowledge it.

Before he could comment, Cooper smiled. “I just thought I’d warn you before I leave. Hurt my sister, and I’ll be back to do more than just square off for a fight.”

Flint nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Cooper stood to leave. “Thanks for the hospitality.”

“Where are you headed now?”

“New Mexico. But I’ll be back next week for the Panhandle Stampede in Amarillo.”

Flint grinned. “I’ll see if Jenna will let me and Ryan tag along when she goes to see you ride.”

Cooper shook his head. “Don’t count on that happening.”

“Why?” Had Adams warned Jenna away from him?

“She doesn’t care much for rodeo.” The man squarely met Flint’s suspicious gaze. “Jenna blames rodeo for some events in her life that I don’t think anyone or anything could have prevented.”

“She mentioned what happened with your mother,” Flint admitted. “I’m sorry.”

Cooper nodded. “That and a couple of other things have her so turned off she won’t even watch me ride.”

“Your sister can be a little stubborn.”

Cooper laughed. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know, McCray.” He shook Flint’s hand. “If you get the time, go ahead and bring Ryan up to Amarillo. I’ll make sure he gets to meet some of the boys.”

“Ryan would like that. Thanks.”

Flint sat staring at the glass dome long after Cooper left. He could appreciate Cooper’s position on protecting Jenna. But the man had it all wrong. Flint had a feeling he might be the one left licking his wounds after Jenna moved on.

Seven

Jenna tied Black Satin to a post and placed a blanket on his back. On the outside of the round pen, Flint gripped the top of the fence and braced his booted foot on the bottom rail.

“If you say one word, McCray, it had better be goodbye,” she warned. She’d seen him walk up to the fence, but until now he’d shown no signs of interference. Her voice soft and low, she continued to pat the stallion’s neck. “I know what I’m doing.”

She eased the saddle onto the horse’s back to let him experience the weight of it. When Satin snorted and turned his head to see what she was doing, but otherwise stood quietly, she praised him and rubbed his muzzle.

Walking over to where Flint stood, she raised an eyebrow. “Did you need something?”

“I know you don’t want a lot of people and noise while you’re working with Satin. And I can understand your logic. But the day you ride him for the first time, I intend to be here.”

“It’s not necessary—”

“Yes, it is.” He nodded at the stallion. “I’ll give credit where it’s due. You’ve made a lot of progress in a short time. But I’ve seen the gentlest horse come completely un-glued the first time he feels the weight of a man.”

Jenna stood for a moment, her anger escalating like the mercury of a thermometer in boiling water. She wasn’t a greenhorn. She knew what a horse was capable of the first time a rider was introduced to him. There wasn’t much she hadn’t seen. But she’d learned long ago, if a horse wasn’t given a reason to buck, it didn’t have to be a problem.

She turned back to Black Satin. Arguing with Flint wasn’t getting her job done. “We’ll discuss this later.”

“You’re damned right we will.”

She untied the stallion and led him around the corral for a short time with the saddle cinched to his back. Satisfied with his reaction, she tied him to a post to remove it. Despite her mood being anything but placid, she spoke in a low, soothing tone as she placed the saddle on the top rail of the fence. There wasn’t any sense in disturbing the horse just because she wanted to throttle his owner.

Flint watched Jenna turn Black Satin into the pasture, take the saddle back to the tack room in the barn, then zero in on him. Even from across the round pen, he could see the determination in her eyes. He had to force himself to remain rooted to the spot, when what he wanted to do was run like hell.

The tongue-lashing she would no doubt deliver on his interference with Satin’s training didn’t intimidate him. He could handle that with little or no trouble. It was the thought he was getting in too deep, too fast, that had him scared spitless. He didn’t believe Jenna was anything like Nicole, but his past history with women was testament to the fact that he had poor judgment when it came to the fairer sex.

“Listen up, cowboy.” Her terse command snapped him out of his unsettling introspection. “If you’re going to tell me how to do my job, you can train that horse yourself.” She closed the gate behind her, then marched up to stand toe-to-toe with him. “As long as you’re quiet and don’t interfere while I’m working with Satin, I don’t care if you hang upside down from the fence rail. Just let me do my job. Okay?”

He started to tell her there was no way he’d stand back and watch her get hurt, but the words lodged in his throat. He couldn’t remember what he was about to say or if he wanted to say anything at all. The phrase, Bull Riders Like It Rough, on her light-blue T-shirt left him speechless. It was the second rodeo shirt he’d seen her wear, and if not for her innocent expression, he’d swear she wore the damned things just to drive him crazy.

“Flint, what’s wrong?” Jenna asked, concern marring her brow. “You look as if you’ve been punched in the stomach.”

He grinned as his active imagination kicked into over-drive. He’d promised her last night they had unfinished business. And now was as good a time as any to get it done.

“What the hell,” he muttered, hauling her into his arms to crush her lips beneath his. He wanted to prove the attraction between them was mutual.

He slid his hands down to her hips to pull her closer, trying to absorb her into his hard maleness. The smell of her herbal-scented hair, the sweet taste of her lips on his, drove Flint to the brink of insanity. But her soft moan as she settled against him almost sent him into orbit.

Jenna’s heart pounded against her ribs. She was angry and she wanted to stay that way. But when Flint’s lips melded with hers, her stomach did that wobbly little cartwheel only his kiss evoked. His tongue affected the intimate act of lovemaking, and she tingled with tiny currents of electrified desire.

The sound of approaching footsteps penetrated the sensual fog surrounding her, and she struggled to free herself from Flint’s strong arms. “Please, Flint.”

“You can run this time, darlin’. But next time we’re going to finish what we started.”

Her cheeks burning, she stepped away from him. His candid comment caused a heaviness low in her belly, and she gulped at the intense message emanating from his chocolate-brown eyes.

Without a word Jenna turned to walk toward the house. She should terminate the contract and get as far away from Flint McCray as Daisy could take her. But she rejected the thought, even as it materialized. She had never run from anything in her life, and she wasn’t about to start now.

“Flint, I think you’d better come take a look at this,” Jed called as he jogged over to where Flint stood.

“What’s that?” Flint asked, reluctant to turn his attention away from the delightful sight of Jenna’s retreating backside.

Jed motioned for Flint to follow, and when they’d entered the barn he pointed to a piece of paper attached to one of the saddles in the tack room. “I found this when I got ready to saddle up. I thought I’d best leave it alone till you checked it out.”

Flint stared at the note resting in the center of the leather seat. The words had been crudely pieced together from magazines, but the message couldn’t have been more clear.

“It’s time to pay for what you’ve done.”

After scanning the paper, Flint went to the phone by the door. “Before we touch anything, I want that note and the saddle dusted for fingerprints.”

An hour later Flint and his men watched the county sheriff, Troy Bartlow, brush the saddle with a white powder.

“We have some pretty good prints here,” Troy said, once the images became more visible. He took a camera from his pocket, snapped pictures of the prints’ location, then covered each one with transparent lifting tape. After transferring them to a special paper, Troy turned to Flint. “We’ll run these through the computer and see what we can scare up. If this guy has a record of any kind, we’ll find out who he is. Do you know if any of your men have been fingerprinted before?”

“They took mine when I was in the army,” Jed spoke up.

When Brad and Tom shook their heads, Sheriff Bartlow removed an ink pad and cards from his investigator’s case. “We’d better take your prints to eliminate any confusion.” He paused to look at Flint. “Anyone else have access to the tack room?”

“Miss Adams been ridin’ that buckskin,” Jed offered.

“I’d better get her prints, too,” Troy said.

Flint turned to the phone to call the ranch house. He didn’t like it, but Jed was right. Jenna had been in the tack room just before the note was found.

Jenna arrived a few minutes later, just as the sheriff finished up with Tom and Brad.

“I can tell you right now my fingerprints will be all over that saddle,” she stated bluntly. “It’s the one I’ve been using when I ride the buckskin.”

Before Flint left to check the grazing conditions in the northern pastures, Sheriff Bartlow called to say there hadn’t been any fingerprints on the note. But Jenna’s prints were all over the saddle, just as she’d predicted.

That wasn’t conclusive evidence, Flint reasoned, giving his horse its head. He didn’t want to believe she was the one at the ranch feeding the rustlers information. But the field of suspects was narrowing. Flint trusted Whiskers implicitly. Jim was unable to get around without crutches and therefore eliminated from any involvement. That only left Jed, Tom and Brad. Flint had known them all for several years and considered all three valued employees. The thought of any one of them being involved in the trouble didn’t sit well.

Dried grass crackled like a bowl of rice cereal beneath the bay’s hooves, drawing Flint’s attention to more pressing matters. He was going to have to move one of the herds to Devil’s Gorge. The ground water there was closer to the surface, and the grass more suitable for grazing.

Although it would be a hassle to get the cattle into the gorge, there was an added advantage. Once inside the box canyon, there was no way the rustlers could get to the herd, except on horseback. And that took time thieves couldn’t afford.

Flint’s gaze scanned the horizon and came to settle on a horse and rider headed for a nearby windmill. When they drew closer, he recognized Jenna as she rode up to the stock tank. She looked in all directions, but evidently couldn’t see him for the grove of mesquite between them. He watched her glance around once more before dismounting. Why was she being so cautious?

Flint’s frown turned to a delighted grin. Although the buckskin stood between them, there was no mistaking her purpose. Jenna was removing her clothes.

He stopped his horse to keep her from noticing him, his grin widening as he watched. He should be shot. A gentleman would advise her of his presence.

Shaking his head, he laughed. They’d established right off that he came up lacking in the area of gallantry.

And Flint didn’t see any reason to break a perfect record. He headed over to the tank, started to unbuckle his belt and pull it off.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jenna asked, her heart thudding hard against her ribs.

It had been a hard day, and she welcomed the relief from the oppressive heat and gritty dust covering her skin. She’d felt a shadow fall over the water. But when she’d opened her eyes and glanced up, instead of the rain cloud she hoped to see, her eyes had met Flint’s and she’d seen the mischievous grin lighting his handsome face. Even though her drawn-up knees hid most of her breasts, there was still a large amount of cleavage exposed that Flint seemed to find fascinating. She sank down to her chin, her eyes wide.

He tugged his shirttail from his jeans and, with one quick jerk, opened all the snaps on the front of his shirt. “It’s mighty hot today. I thought it would feel good to cool off in one of my stock tanks before I start back to the house.”

“But I’m here!”

“I don’t mind.” Hanging his shirt on the saddle horn, he unsnapped his jeans and lowered the zipper. “I’ll share.”

Jenna gulped at the sight of so much skin. Masculine, hair-roughened skin. Flint’s skin. When she noticed his jeans gaping open to expose the top part of his white cotton briefs, riding low on his lean flanks, her heart felt as though it stopped completely.

Smiling, he hooked his thumbs in the waistbands of his jeans and briefs. “There’s plenty of room.” He pushed downward. “You don’t have to leave.”

She closed her eyes and turned her head when it became apparent Flint wasn’t the least bit shy. “I was thinking more along the line—” She heard him step into the water and scrunched her eyes tight. “—of you leaving. Not me.”

He sat down across from her. “Why would I do that? This feels good.”

She swung her head around to glare at him.

His eyes mischievous beneath the wide brim of his hat, he drawled, “You know you shouldn’t go swimming without a partner. It could be dangerous.”

“The water’s only a couple of feet deep.”

“Yes, but this tank is ten feet across.” He looked thoughtful. “I’ll bet if I stretched out and relaxed, my whole body would float.”

“Don’t you dare.” Jenna envisioned Flint, front side up, bobbing around in the water, and her vivid imagination went wild.

His grin faded, and noticing the direction of his rapt gaze, she looked down. In her agitation her body had come out of the water to expose all but the tips of her breasts, and those he could easily see just beneath the surface.

She sank back into the water. “You’re a low-down horse’s patoot.”

“I love it when you talk dirty,” he teased. “That was a good one.”

“You seem to bring out the best in me,” she retorted.

“I’d like to.”

Jenna’s breath caught. The message in his smoldering eyes left no doubt what he’d like to do. Goose bumps rose on her skin, despite the heat swirling through her body.

“Flint, please—”

“Please what? Please tell you that I don’t want to feel you beneath me? Feel myself inside you?” He slowly shook his head, his intense gaze never leaving hers. “I can’t do that.”

Her cheeks colored with desire at his provocative words. “Flint, we—”

“Not now, darlin’,” he interrupted. “But soon.” His expression changed, and he allowed her to see the raw hunger in the depths of his eyes. “Real soon.”

He hadn’t moved from the opposite side of the stock tank, but his eyes held her captive with their seductive message and his husky drawl caused Jenna to feel as if he’d caressed her sensitized skin.

“Now get out of here before I change my mind,” he said, his voice low and impassioned. When she hesitated, he raised one dark brow. “Are you extending an invitation?”

“No.” She pointed to a spot behind him. “Turn your head.”

Flint laughed, the sound deep and rich. “Oh, I’ve already seen you like this at least a hundred times.”

“When?” she asked, appalled.

“Every night in my dreams.”

Swallowing hard, Jenna waited until he turned to face the open prairie. She had to get away from him before she gave in to the temptation of staying where she was and finding out if he meant what he said. When she stepped from the water, she made sure the horse stood between herself and Flint’s curious eyes long enough for her to pull on her clothes.

“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 reassuring 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.”

Eight

Flint 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.

“We’ll wait it out at the old Circle S line shack,” Flint said, making a snap decision. Sheltered on three sides by rolling hills, the sturdy little cabin was only a quarter of a mile away and their best hope for shelter. “Follow me.”

He turned his horse and spurred it into a gallop. Jenna kicked the buckskin into a run and fell in behind him. Stinging needles of rain pelted them from all sides, and huge gusts of wind began to whip the grass and mesquite into rolling waves. Arriving at their destination just in time to tie the horses inside the shed, Flint grabbed the saddle-bags and hustled Jenna toward the cabin as hail began to beat down.

When they reached the door, he shoved her inside. “All hell’s going to break loose!” He slammed the door, caught Jenna in a flying tackle and, protecting her with his body, rolled to the floor. The wind outside built to a deafening roar. “Tornado,” he said close to her ear. “Stay down.”

Her fingers gripped the front of his chambray shirt, and his muscles flexed in response. He wanted her with every fiber of his being. Wanted to…

And then it was over. As quickly as it began, the storm moved on.

Her legs moved against his, and it took a moment for him to realize she was trying to get to her feet.

“It’s okay, darlin’.” He rose and brought her up with him. “It’s over.”

“Thank goodness,” Jenna said, her voice shaky.

Flint stared down into her flushed face and felt a flash of white-hot desire. Having her beneath him had been heaven and hell rolled into one. He wanted nothing more than to remove their clothes and take the final step toward ending the torment.

To keep from pulling her to him and doing just that, he forced himself to look around the shack. “I haven’t been here for some time, but it looks pretty clean.”

“I’ve seen worse,” she agreed.

He walked to the door and peered out. The twister had hit the ridge above them and skipped over, just as he’d hoped. But lightning still flashed, and the driving rain showed no signs of letting up.

He needed his head examined, but he wasn’t the least bit sorry they were stuck here. He had reached his limit, and he was man enough to admit it. Biting the inside of his lip to keep from smiling, he tried to think of a way to tactfully break the news he was sure Jenna wouldn’t want to hear.

Deciding there was no better way than straight-out, he turned to face her. “We’re going to have to spend the night here, darlin’.”

“You’re joking, right?”

Flint shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Even if the lightning stops right now, there’s no way to get back across the wash. Rain like this turns that ravine into a raging torrent.”

Jenna didn’t doubt Flint’s word. She knew a wash could be dry as a bone one minute and a deep, swift river the next. She glanced around the cabin and groaned. There was only one bed.

She looked back at Flint. “No way?”

“None.”

Dazed, she watched him make a quick call on the cell phone to let Whiskers know they were safe, then start for the door.

“I’ll go tend to the horses.”

Incapable of speech, she watched him leave.

Flint entered the cabin a half hour later to find Jenna reading labels on some canned goods. He crossed the room and sat down on the bed. “There were some sandwiches left from lunch.”

“Yes, but I thought it would be nice to have something to go with them,” she answered without looking up. “Do you think the owner will mind?”

“Nope.” He removed his boots and stretched out on the cot. “He’s glad there’ll be a little variety added to his next meal.”

She arched a perfectly shaped brow. “I thought you said this was the Circle S line shack.”

“It used to be.” He pulled his Resistol down over his eyes, then clasped his hands behind his head. “My dad bought the Circle S about thirty years ago from Jed’s father.” He saw her eye the can skeptically. “Those should be pretty fresh. The boys use this for a base camp during hunting season.”

From beneath the wide brim of his hat, Flint watched her nod, then turn back to the table. She fumbled with the can opener. Her nerves were as frayed as his. They both knew there were no more obstacles—no meddling old men, no talkative little boys, no sinister eyes watching. Tonight nothing would prevent them from exploring the chemistry between them.

When she dropped both the can and the opener, he sailed his hat across the room like a Frisbee, sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His forearms propped on his knees, he watched her struggle with the gadget for a few seconds longer before he rose to his feet, took it from her trembling hands and pulled her into his arms.

“Flint—”

“Hush, darlin’.” He ran his hands down her stiff spine and kissed her temple. “I want you. You know that. But I’m not going to jump your bones just because we’re alone. I’ve never taken anything a woman didn’t readily give. And I’m not about to start now. When we make love, it will be because you want me as much as I want you.”

Jenna drew back to look into his deep-brown eyes. When she’d been younger, she’d convinced herself she wanted Dan. But their few fumbling attempts at making love had resulted in embarrassing shame for both. Now she recognized what she’d felt for Dan had been the pure, innocent love of a young girl. But her feelings for Flint were those of a woman.

She’d never experienced a woman’s need, a woman’s passion for a man. Not until Flint held her, kissed her.

In that moment she realized she never would again. Not with any other man. Only Flint.

Her mind raced with the complications her actions could cause, but she shoved them aside. The minute Flint had taken her into his arms, the decision had been made.

Mother Nature had placed them here in this desolate, little cabin. And she was drawing them together now.

“I do want you,” she whispered.

Nine

“Darlin’, you don’t know what that does to me. I’ve been on fire since the day we met.” Flint’s hands stilled and, groaning, he buried his face in her hair. He brought his hands up to capture her face. “Are you sure? If not, say so now. I don’t think I’ll be able to stop if you change your mind later.”

Jenna saw the raw hunger, the deep need in Flint’s intense gaze. “You’d better not stop, cowboy. You’re the one who made me feel like this. You better do something about it.”

He grinned. “I always put out the fires I start.”

His lips claimed hers in the most tender, poignant kiss she’d ever experienced. When his tongue swept over her mouth, then darted inside to stroke her, sparks of pleasure raced to every nerve in her body. She savored the taste of him, reveled in his hungry lips moving across her own. Excitement, sultry and provocative, flowed through her.

Flint slid his hands from her shoulders to cup her breasts. He supported the heaviness he’d created there, teased her nipples with his thumbs. Jenna thought she’d go up in flames.

“Does that feel good?” he whispered, his breath feathering her ear. “Or do you want me to stop?”

“Please…”

He raised his thumbs from her shirt. “Please stop?”

“No! If you stop now…I’m not sure I’ll survive.”

Flint’s gaze captured hers and he slowly drew her shirt over her head. Pulling it from her arms, he tossed it at the chair. He smiled and ran his finger along the lace-edged top of her bra, but when he released the clasp and slid the straps down, his smile vanished and his breath caught.

He bent to press a kiss to each breast. “You’re perfect. So soft. So sweet.”

Tossing her bra on top of her shirt, he took her hands in his and guided them to his shirt. “Your turn, darlin’.”

Jenna quickly unsnapped the garment. She’d yearned to touch him like this again, since that first night in the hall. Now as she placed her hands on his firmly muscled chest, the crisp hair tickled her palms. The sensation caused sparks of excitement to skip along every nerve in her body, and passion stronger than she’d ever known rose within her.

A smile curved her lips when the tips of her fingers found the tiny nubs buried beneath the thin curls. Flint’s groan of pleasure escaped on a ragged sigh, and it thrilled her to know he was as sensitive to her touch as she was to his.

When he brushed her hands away to crush her to him, the feel of skin against skin, the nestling of her nipples amid his chest hair made her moan. Certain her hunger had reached its peak, she gasped when he cupped her bottom to lift her close. The evidence of his hard arousal, pressed into her lower belly, sent ribbons of desire weaving their way through every part of her.

“Flint—”

The passion in her voice aroused him as little else could. “When you say my name like that it drives me wild.”

He kissed her, letting her taste his need, the depth of feelings he no longer wanted to hide. Somehow finding the strength to set her from him, he broke the kiss, quickly shed his shirt, then bent to remove her boots. He swung her up into his arms and ground his teeth to maintain the slender thread of control he had left.

He wanted to go slow, to make their first time together special. But when he carried her to the small bed in the corner and stretched out beside her, he realized just how difficult that would be. The feel of her breasts in his callused palms, her warm heat nestled against him, nearly sent him over the edge.

Gazing down at her, he realized he was hotter than he’d ever been in his life. “Darlin’, I can’t stand much more of this. I need to feel all of you against me.”

When he unbuckled her belt, released the snap of her jeans and slowly lowered the zipper, he watched her grasp the quilt in tight fists. As he eased her jeans and panties from her slender hips, then down her thighs, she moaned his name. He’d never been so turned on by a woman’s excitement. But then, he didn’t think he’d ever excited a woman this much before.

A satisfied smile turned up the corners of his mouth. Jenna’s response to his slightest touch and the unbridled passion he saw clouding her eyes was something that couldn’t be faked. She didn’t need just any man. She needed him.

The knowledge sent a surge of heat straight to his groin. He had to grit his teeth against the sudden rush and, quickly rising, he removed his jeans and briefs.

Jenna’s first impulse was to cover herself. But Flint’s sharp intake of breath, the hunger darkening his eyes made her feel truly beautiful for the first time in her life. His gaze caressed her, and a heavy coil of need settled in the pit of her stomach. Had a man ever made a woman feel more special?

He pulled off the rest of his clothing, then turned to face her. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and her breath caught. Flint was the perfect specimen of a man in his prime. Broad, heavily muscled shoulders tapered to a flat, rippling stomach and lean, narrow hips. Her gaze drifted lower. Her breathing became shallow, and her pulse began to race. He was heavily built and thoroughly aroused. She lifted her gaze to meet his, and the empty ache inside her tightened unbearably. He was looking at her as if she was the most desired woman in the world.

In a short time she would belong to Flint in every sense of the word. And he would be her man. At least for tonight.

Flint tucked the small packet he’d retrieved from his jeans pocket beneath the pillow and lay back down beside her. When he pulled her to him, he closed his eyes. The shock of his skin finally touching all of her and the thought of no more barriers between them nearly proved to be more than he could take.

He’d never wanted to please a woman as he wanted to please Jenna, but his body throbbed with anticipation, and the tension arcing between them turned his blood into a molten flow of need.

Her curious hands smoothed down his back, and his lungs ceased to function. “Darlin’, don’t get me wrong. I love the way your hands feel on my body…” Her fingers skimmed the curve of his buttocks, and a strangled sound emerged from deep in his throat. When he regained his voice he finished. “…but if you keep this up, I’m going to embarrass both of us.”

He smiled at the blush of passion on her cheeks, the hesitancy of her breathing. Not sure how much longer he could endure the torture of holding her without taking the final step, Flint slid his hand down between them to cup her tawny curls.

Her readiness for him, her startled gasp as he stroked her, inflamed him further. When she arched against him, he knew he couldn’t stand much more. “Easy, darlin’.”

Reaching for the packet beneath the pillow, he took care of their protection, then nudged her knees apart. He clasped her hands in his and pinned them on either side of her head. “What is it you need, Jenna?”

“You.”

She looked a little hesitant. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

At her impassioned admission, Flint claimed her with one smooth stroke. But his elation turned to shock at the resistance he felt, the unusual tightness surrounding him and the flash of pain clouding her soft eyes.

He froze. “What the hell—”

She bit her lower lip, and Flint felt her body involuntarily try to resist the foreign invasion of his. He hadn’t even considered she might still be a virgin. The woman was twenty-six years old, and these days it was unusual to find a girl of eighteen who hadn’t experimented in the back seat of a car. At least once.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d never been with a man?” he demanded, his voice sharpened by the thought of causing her pain.

“What made you think I had?” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

Flint watched a tear slip from the corner of her eye. He felt like a complete ass. He’d hurt her, and now all he could do was complain about it.

Holding the lower part of his body still, he gathered her to him and kissed the droplet away. She had just given him a special part of herself, and the very last thing he wanted to do was make her regret it.

“I’m sorry, Jenna. You didn’t deserve that.” Buried inside her as he was, his body urged him to complete the act of pleasuring them both. But he knew she needed time to adjust. He took a shuddering breath and fought for control. “I just wish you’d told me. I would have been more careful.”

“I’m fine. Really.”

Just as he reached the limit of his endurance, he watched her eyes soften and knew the pain was giving way to the ache of unfulfilled desire. “I’m going to love you now, darlin’.”

Flint moved slowly, watchful for any sign of her discomfort. His body urged him to unleash the tight rein he held on his control, but he didn’t want to hurt her more than he already had. She was new to lovemaking, and he was new to being with a virgin. How long did the pain last? What could he do to lessen it?

She placed her hands on his lower back, then slid them down to his buttocks, and Flint’s control snapped. He gave to her as she gave to him, and when he felt her body stiffen, he quickened the pace and drove them both over the edge.

When Jenna cried his name and he felt her pleasure surround him, satisfaction like he’d never known rushed through him. Only then did he give in to his own intense need and, with a final thrust, felt the triumph of his explosion overtake him.

“That was incredible,” she said several minutes later.

“Yes, it was.” Flint moved to her side and covered them with the quilt. Brushing his lips against her temple, he placed his hand on her lower belly. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“I wish you’d told me.” He gently caressed her, trying to heal any pain he might have caused. “I could have hurt you.”

“But you didn’t.” She nibbled at his shoulder. “Besides, it was my choice.”

Her words flowed over him like a silken caress. She’d chosen him to be the first, and a sudden burning in his gut told him he damned well wanted to be the last. The thought of another man touching Jenna, making her come apart in his arms the way she had in Flint’s, caused the blaze to intensify and his body to tighten with the need to once again brand her as his.

When her hand slid from his chest down to his flank, fire raced through his veins to burn at his groin, and he abandoned all speculation. He could analyze his emotions later. Right now her timid exploration was driving him wild.

“Don’t…be shy, Jenna,” he encouraged, his breath coming in harsh gasps. “I promise…I won’t break.”

She snuggled closer to his side and her innocent touch when she captured him sent Flint to the brink of insanity. He groaned like a man in pain.

Her hand stilled. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Geez, no!” he growled and turned to pin her to the mattress. “You’re doing everything just right.” He pressed himself to her. “Too right.”

Her eyes met his, telling him of her need, pleading with him to end the sweet torture.

When she looked at him like that, Flint felt he might never breath again. Her moan of pleasure, as he made them one, urged him to give her everything he had. He could tell, as their cries mingled to celebrate the joy of mutual release, she gave him all of herself in return.

The next evening Flint sat at his desk, his gaze riveted on the large brown envelope in his hand. The investigator had completed his report, but Flint wasn’t sure he wanted to know what secrets it held.

Two weeks ago he’d wanted Jenna off the ranch at all costs. Now all he could do was think of ways to prolong her stay.

They hadn’t talked since arriving back at ranch headquarters earlier in the day. He’d been busy with paperwork, and she’d been occupied with Black Satin’s training. But they both knew things had changed between them. She had given him something very precious last night, something she could only give once. And he’d never experienced anything like what they’d shared.

Throughout the night they’d awoken to renewed desire, and each time their passion had been more intense than the last. He’d instructed her in the physical act of loving, but she’d taught him much more. She’d drawn emotions from him that he’d never known existed.

He wanted her to know how very special it had been for him and how it made him feel knowing she’d chosen him to be her first. He’d never been comfortable expressing his emotions with the tender words women wanted to hear. He grinned. But he could damned well show her.

His mind on how he planned to do just that, Flint reached for the metal clasp on the flap of the envelope, removed the papers and scanned the information. His expression turned grim, and he leaned back in his chair to stare at the necklace on the mantel. The glittering stones mocked him with their beauty.

He felt like a fool.

Oh, he’d thought there might be something like an unpaid parking ticket in her background, but he’d never dreamed the information about her would be of this magnitude. Nor had he anticipated the report posing more questions than it answered.

Jenna switched on the barn lights and peered down the long row of stalls. She could have sworn the brood mares sounded restless. Now that the heat wave had let up a bit, humans and animals alike were less edgy, which made the horses’ nervous movements even more curious.

Shrugging, she walked over to the first stall. It was probably her imagination, colored by her own turbulent mood, she decided.

A curious chestnut mare poked her head over the stall door, and Jenna absently rubbed its muzzle. She’d gone for a walk in hopes of putting things in perspective. Unfortunately, she still hadn’t been able to come up with a solution.

She’d made love with Flint, and nothing could ever make her regret what they’d shared. But when the time came, how would she leave the Rocking M without her heart staying behind?

“What are you doing in here?”

Jenna jumped at the harsh sound of Flint’s voice. When he continued to stare at her through the scope of a rifle, she glared at him. “Put that gun down.”

His face a stony mask, he lowered the weapon. “I asked you a question.”

Shaken by the venom in his voice, she sat down on a bale of hay by the wide, double doors. “I went for a walk. When I passed the barn I thought the mares sounded restless, so I decided to check on them.”

“They don’t seem nearly as edgy as you.”

She wondered if he’d lost his mind. “Wouldn’t you be shook up if someone pointed a rifle at you?”

“How was I to know you weren’t someone else?”

Remembering the trouble, her indignation cooled. With the problems he’d experienced, it was only natural he would assume the worst when he saw an unexplained light in the barn. “I’m sorry. I should have told someone I was going for a walk.”

“Yes, you should have.” He leaned the rifle against the barn wall, placed a booted foot beside her on the bale and crossed his forearms on his thigh. “But right now we have other things to discuss besides your evening walk.”

“Okay,” she said, meeting his icy glare. What could she have done to deserve such an ominous look? “What would you like to talk about? The weather? Cattle prices?”

“Cattle prices might be a good start. It seems several of the ranches you’ve worked for have had rustling problems.”

She stared at him. He thought she was stealing his cattle? “Yes. Several of the places where I’ve worked have had cattle stolen. But we both know spreads the size of yours are easy targets. Always have been and probably always will be.”

“But you were in residence at the time.”

Jenna clenched her fists to her sides and struggled for patience. A certified saint would lose it with this man. “Did you have trouble before I arrived?”

“Yes.”

“Then doesn’t it stand to reason I’m not involved?”

“Things heated up as soon as you arrived.”

“So did the weather,” she shot back. “Are you going to blame me for that, too?”

“If I were you I wouldn’t be so insolent.” His eyes narrowed. “We still haven’t discussed why you live the life of a transient when you have over a quarter of a million in a bank down in Austin. And another twenty-five grand in Oklahoma City.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “How dare you? That’s none of your business.”

“I think it is.” He pinned her with a piercing gaze. “Explain to me why someone with that much money would live like a nomad when she could well afford a place of her own. Not to mention a decent vehicle to drive.”

“As far as I’m concerned, we have nothing to discuss,” she retorted, jumping to her feet. She had no intention of explaining her lifestyle to Flint or anyone else. And she refused to listen to any more of his accusations.

“You haven’t answered me,” he said, catching her arm.

Jenna looked down at the large hand encircling her upper arm. The reaction that always accompanied his touch was there, but she ignored it. He had pried into a part of her life she had no intention of sharing with him or anyone else. And at the moment she despised him for it.

“You had no right sticking your nose into my affairs, McCray.” Leveling her furious gaze on him, she jerked from his grasp. “And I’m not going to justify your high-handedness by answering your questions.”

“You’re working for me now. I make it a point to know all about my employees.”

She glared at him. “Our contract states I’m to train your horse, not sell myself into servitude.”

Jenna started for the barn door but Flint blocked her path. “Wouldn’t you be suspicious of a top-notch horse trainer who drove a truck that looks like the loser from a demolition derby?”

His accusations hurt, and hot tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she refused to let him see the extent of her misery. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, McCray. And I’m not going to enlighten you. You have your mind made up. You wouldn’t believe me, anyway.”

She tried to step around him, but like a vise, Flint’s large hands clamped her shoulders. “Why, Jenna? Make me understand.”

Suddenly engulfed by years of desolation, she stared past his shoulder into the darkness outside. Her voice devoid of emotion, she whispered, “You couldn’t possibly—”

The sudden commotion of agitated horses at the far end of the building caught their attention. Jenna turned to see an eerie glow quickly grow into dancing, orange flames licking at the entire back wall of the barn.

He set her aside and ran toward the fire. “Get the men.”

Their confrontation forgotten, Jenna grabbed the rifle and ran through the big, double doors to fire several shots into the quiet night sky. Propping the rifle against a water trough, she ran back into the barn and opened the first stall she came to.

As she led the nervous animals out to one of the exercise pens, Flint’s men arrived to uncoil lengths of hose and soak saddle blankets with water. The ranch hands shouted for her to stay back, but she ignored them. The flames were spreading, and the valuable mares were in danger of being lost. She had to evacuate as many as she could.

Sparks swirled everywhere, and the crackle of wood being consumed by hungry flames deafened her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her lungs ached from the thick smoke, but she refused to give up. There was only one stall left.

She opened the enclosure to grab hold of the mare’s halter, but the panicked animal proved to be more than she could handle. She found a burlap bag just outside the stall, wrapped it around the mare’s eyes and, with dogged determination, guided the horse into the wide aisle. The nervous horse pranced in a circle around her, and Jenna had to summon every ounce of her flagging strength to hold the animal.

The loud crack of an overhead beam caused the terrified mare to lurch to the side, pinning Jenna against the side boards. Pain shot through her, and the air rushed from her lungs.

She searched for Flint among the men battling the blaze, but when she called his name, her voice failed. A sweet lethargy swept over her. His image became fuzzy, and sounds grew distant. As she slipped into the peaceful quiet of an all-consuming black abyss, she welcomed the respite from the oppressive heat and the pain of trying to breathe.

Her last thought was of Flint. She didn’t want to leave him. He needed her whether he realized it or not.

Ten

Flint turned to shout orders to his men, but the scene a few feet away caused the words to die in his throat. As if in slow motion, he watched Jenna crumple to the barn floor, her body dangerously close to being trampled by the terrified mare.

He dropped the hose he held, called to Brad and the other men to take control of the blindfolded animal, then scooped Jenna into his arms. Running for the safety of the cooler outside air, he felt fear tear at his insides. Had the horse already stepped on her? Could she have internal injuries?

He gently cradled her limp body to his and sprinted across the ranch yard to enter the house. “Get the first aid kit,” he ordered, rushing past Whiskers on his way to the stairs.

Taking the steps two at a time, he passed Jenna’s room and carried her to his. When he placed her on the bed, she moaned.

“Jenna. Darlin’, can you hear me?”

Her eyes fluttered, then slowly opened. “Flint—”

“Easy, darlin’. You’re safe now.” Searching for signs of injury and praying he’d find none, his hands shook as he ran them along her body.

Assured there were no broken bones, he sat down beside her to smooth her hair from her face. He couldn’t see any visible signs that she’d been injured, but it was the possible internal injuries that concerned him.

Ryan ran into the room, followed close by Whiskers. “Is she hurt bad?” the old man asked.

“I can’t tell.” Flint bathed her face with the damp cloth Whiskers pressed into his hand. “Get her some water.”

Ryan stood beside Flint, his little chin wobbling. “Daddy, please don’t take Jenna to the hospital. I love her. I don’t want her to die.”

“I’m…” She coughed several times before she could go on. “I’m all right.” She took Ryan’s hand. “I promise.” Glancing at Flint, she asked, “What about the mare?”

“The men got her out.”

“I called Mac,” Whiskers said, handing Flint a glass. “He oughtta be here in fifteen minutes.”

Knowing Ryan felt as helpless as he did, and not wanting to upset the boy any more than he already was, Flint hugged his son. “I need you to do something very important. Could you go to the kitchen and watch for Dr. McEvers?” When Ryan nodded, Flint smiled. “Good. Bring him up here as soon as he arrives. Okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” Ryan said, already halfway to the door.

Flint turned back to support Jenna while she sipped the water. “Just rest, Jenna.” He eased her back on the bed. “Doc’s ranch is only a few miles away. He’ll be here soon.”

“It’s not necessary,” she protested, her voice raspy. “My throat’s a little sore, but otherwise I’m fine.”

“I want to make sure.”

Sheer terror was an unfamiliar emotion, one he hadn’t dealt with more than once or twice in his thirty-three years. But in the past few days Flint had come to know the feeling quite well. Icy fingers had gripped his heart until he thought it would burst a couple of nights ago when Jenna had fallen from Black Satin. And then tonight, as he’d watched the panicked mare dance around her helpless body, the feeling had returned full-force.

“Flint?” He turned at the sound of Brad’s hoarse voice. “Is Miss Adams going to be okay?” his foreman asked.

Flint nodded. “Whiskers called Mac just to be sure.”

Turning his hat in his hand, Brad shifted from one foot to the other. “The brood barn’s a complete loss. The best we can do is keep it from spreading to the other buildings and let it burn itself out.”

Flint could tell from the look on Brad’s face and his agitated actions that the man had more on his mind than the status of the fire. Taking Jenna’s hand in his, Flint said, “I’ll be back in a little while.”

“Go ahead.” Her grip weak, she squeezed his hand. “I just had the breath knocked out of me. I’ll be fine.”

He hated to leave her but, placing her in Whiskers’s care, he followed Brad down the hall. “What’s up?”

“It looks like whoever we’re fighting just took another punch.” His face grim, Brad led Flint out of the house toward the barns. “That fire was no accident. It was set.”

When they rounded the end of one of the buildings, Brad pointed to a couple of discarded fuel cans. “Jed stumbled across these on his way to fight the fire.”

Clear liquid dripped from the opened cans, a small, dark circle spreading where the fluid wet the dusty soil.

Flint squatted down to wipe a droplet from the rim of the can. He sniffed the substance on his fingers. “Kerosene.”

Brad nodded. “I checked the shed. Somebody’s been into the supply we keep for the heaters in the calving barn.”

Flint got to his feet, his anger and frustration increasing tenfold as he felt the malicious eyes once again watching him.

Jenna slowly opened her eyes to the late-afternoon sunlight streaming through the window. For a second or two she wondered where she was, but as events of the past evening returned, she glanced around. She was in Flint’s room.

Curious, she sat up to survey her surroundings. Knotty pine paneling provided an excellent foil for the pieces of Native American artwork and heavy, dark mahogany furniture. She noticed several pictures of Flint and Ryan on the dresser along with a ragged looking, one-eyed teddy bear.

She smiled and, throwing back the patchwork quilt, got up for a better look. She touched the frames with gentle reverence, and tears filled her eyes. She loved them both so much. How would she ever be able to leave them?

And after Flint’s accusations last night, leaving the Rocking M was inevitable, once she finished Satin’s training. Saddened by the thought, she made the bed, then went to her own room for a shower and fresh clothes.

Twenty minutes later Jenna descended the stairs to a silent house. She listened for sounds of Whiskers moving around in the kitchen or Ryan’s excited chatter. But the house remained strangely quiet. Too quiet.

Just as she reached the bottom step, Flint walked out of the study. They hadn’t talked after he’d left her to check on the fire, and as they stared at each other now, an uneasy feeling came over her. He still thought she might be involved in the trouble.

“How are you feeling?” he finally asked, breaking the strained silence. “Mac gave you something to sleep. Are you sure you feel like being up?”

“I’m fine.”

“He said you were a little bruised, but otherwise okay.”

Jenna nodded. She couldn’t stand the tension. It was time to set things straight. “We need to talk.”

Flint gazed at her for several long, uncomfortable moments before he stepped back for her to enter the study. Once they were both seated, he watched her twist her hands into a tight knot. A dull ache squeezed at his gut. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what she had to say.

“Where did you want to start?” he asked.

He watched her take a deep breath. When she raised her eyes, she met his gaze head-on. “First off, other than coincidence, I can’t explain why some of the ranches I’ve worked at have experienced rustling problems. But we both know stealing cattle has always been quite profitable. Depending on the market, a thief can make hundreds of dollars on each animal.”

Flint leaned back in his chair. “You’ve amassed a lot of money in a very short time.”

Gray sparks lit her eyes. “Where did you get your information on my financial affairs?”

“I had your background investigated.”

“Why?”

Looking back, it seemed pretty lame, but at the time he’d thought it extremely important. “I wanted out of the contract. You knew that. I was hoping to find something to prove you weren’t suitable for the job.”

One of her brows rose. “Now you think you’ve found it?”

He met her gaze, before his eyes sought out the dome on the mantel. “I’m not sure.”

Clearly angered, Jenna sat forward. “Then why did you confront me last night as if I’d committed a crime?” When he started to answer, she shook her head. “I know why. You naturally assumed I was guilty of stealing cattle and banking the profits. Didn’t you?”

Flint didn’t like admitting it, but that was exactly what he’d thought. “Facts and figures don’t lie. People do.”

“Then let me set you straight, McCray.” Her eyes sparkled with gray fire. “First off, I wouldn’t use that investigator anymore, because evidently the man is incompetent. If he’d done his job, the figures would have added up. We both know my price for training a horse is quite high. If you want the best, you have to pay for it. Plain and simple. I’ve trained dozens of horses in the past six years. That’s why it seems like I have a lot of money stockpiled.”

“But—”

“I’m not finished,” she snapped. “You inherited this spread, and that’s great. I don’t begrudge you one inch of it. But I’ve never had that advantage. I’ve had to scrape and claw for everything I’ve ever had. And, believe me, when you earn it the hard way, you learn to hang on tight.”

She glared at him. “Did it ever occur to you that I might be saving my money because I’m working toward a goal? Are you so arrogant you think you’re the only one with plans? The only one to have a dream?”

“No.” Flint felt guilty as hell. Everything she accused him of fell too close to the mark. “But—”

“It was so much easier to assume the worst. Right?”

Before he could answer, she rose to her feet and paced the length of the study. “You’ve always had a home, Flint. But I’ve never had that luxury, never had a place where I truly belonged. Believe it or not, a camper on the back of Daisy is the only thing I’ve ever been able to call home. That’s the reason I keep her. I could afford to replace her with a brand-new, top-of-the-line truck and camper. But I won’t. She’s not just my home, she’s the only thing I have left of my father.”

She turned to look at him, her eyes defiant. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not ashamed of where I came from or the fact that I’ve been poor most of my life. But I want something better. I want a permanent home and horses of my own. That’s what I’m working for. Why I save every dime I can.”

Flint’s guilt increased. Jenna had mentioned her lack of roots before, but he assumed she’d exaggerated. His gaze darted around the study. He’d always taken everything he had for granted. He couldn’t imagine not having a home or the pride he always felt when he thought of the generations of McCrays who carved a thriving enterprise from the dusty Texas soil.

She was right. He had been an arrogant son of a gun not to consider she might have dreams and goals of her own. He’d been too busy comparing her to his ex-wife. But Jenna was nothing like Nicole, and it was way past time he faced that fact.

“I’ve never stolen anything in my life, nor have I ever tried to destroy what someone else has,” she stated. “All I ask is a chance to work hard and realize my dreams.”

The more she explained, the worse he felt. “So why haven’t you bought a place? You have more than enough money.”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t. When I buy a ranch where I can raise and train horses of my own, there won’t be any liens or mortgages. Everything will be paid for, free and clear.”

Flint admired her determination, but as a successful rancher, he saw the impracticality in her reasoning. He left his chair, walked up to her and encircled her waist with his arms. “If you deplete your reserves, how would you handle the emergency expenses that arise?” He gazed down at her. “It would be more feasible to make a sizable down payment, take out a loan for the balance and keep the rest in savings for the unexpected.”

She shook her head. “Once I have what I want, I don’t intend to give anyone the chance to take it from me.”

Flint pulled her forward and cradled her to him. He could identify with her tenacity. He’d always felt if something was worth having, it was worth fighting to keep.

His heart told him Jenna was worth fighting for.

“Darlin’, I’m sorry. I was out of line.” Words didn’t even begin to cover how low Flint felt. “Do you think you can find it in your heart to forgive me?”

He tunneled his hands through her glossy hair, the dark-gold strands flowing over his tanned skin like fine, silken threads. He needed to show her what he couldn’t put into words.

Jenna’s lips tingled at the first brush of Flint’s mouth on hers, and her hands came up from where they gripped the belt loops of his jeans to splay across his broad back. His suspicion and distrust had hurt her deeply, but his heartfelt apology, the magic of his touch and the feel of his hungry lips on hers, transformed the hurt into an entirely different emotion.

Restless with the need building inside her, she ran her hands down Flint’s spine, then slid them into his hip pockets to squeeze his tight rump. Men thought women had sexy rear ends, but women found a man’s to be no less exciting.

And Flint’s bottom was perfect. Slightly hollowed on the sides, the firm muscles rounded as they sloped away from his back, then tucked in tight at the tops of his thighs.

“You have a very sexy behind, cowboy.”

“Not as sexy as yours.”

When his hands slid into the hip pockets of her jeans to pull her forward, Jenna gasped. The electric current from the contact flowed through her to pool with aching heaviness in her lower belly. Her knees tried to buckle.

“Easy, now.” He steadied her, then made quick work of removing her shirt.

Not quite sure how it happened, Jenna found herself naked from the waist up. But when he opened the snap on her jeans and started to lower the zipper, she stopped him.

“This isn’t fair,” she protested.

She reached up to release the snap just below his open collar and kissed the newly exposed skin. She did the same with the next snap and the next, until she came to the waistband of his jeans. Her kiss there caused a growl of pleasure to escape from deep within his big body.

Without warning, he swung her up into his arms and headed for the stairs. “I’ve had about all this torment I can take.”

Her arms circled his neck as she allowed Flint to carry her to his room. When he set her on her feet, Jenna stopped him from turning down the covers.

Reaching out, she unsnapped his jeans, but instead of lowering the zipper, she traced the metal teeth with the tip of her fingernail. He started to pull down the tab, but she shooed his hands away. Her gaze meeting his, she slowly brushed her hand across the straining, faded fabric.

“I have a fantasy,” she said huskily. “Do you mind?”

“Not in the least, darlin’.” His smile was dazzling. “Go right ahead.”

Jenna had never played seductress before, but Flint didn’t seem to mind her lack of experience. His gaze had turned smoldering, and his breath came out in short puffs. With every move of her hand across the tight denim, she could see the hunger build in his eyes, feel his need for her grow.

“Woman. You’re going to drive me out of my mind.”

She toyed with the zipper tab. “Do you want me to stop?”

He shook his head and seemed to have trouble finding his voice. “H-hell, no!”

She smiled and knelt to tug off his boots and socks, then slowly lowered the zipper and removed his jeans. She cast them aside, but when she noticed the way his briefs outlined his heaviness, the magnificence of his erection, her smile faded into one of utter amazement. “Wow.”

Her hand trembled as she touched the hard ridge, and her own arousal built. When she heard him swallow, felt his body pulsate at her touch, power and triumph flowed through her. Never had she been more aware of her femininity than at that very moment.

Guiding her hands to the elastic band, his smile made her feel as though she might just melt into a pool at his feet. “Don’t stop now. This is just starting to get interesting.”

When she lowered his briefs and circled him with her hand, his smile faded and his breath hissed out from between his clenched teeth. He clasped her wrists to stop her exploration.

“This isn’t fair. I want to touch you, too.”

He tried to pull her to him, but she stepped back. “Not yet, cowboy. This is my fantasy, remember?”

Jenna had never stripped a man. But she enjoyed the feeling of control the experience gave her.

With a seductive glance she turned and bent over to remove her boots and socks. The denim stretched to define each curve and, rewarded by his harsh intake of breath, she smiled and turned to face him. Reaching for her own zipper, she lowered it with painstaking care.

The feral light in Flint’s eyes inspired her and, undulating her hips, she placed her hands on her flat stomach to slowly let them glide down beneath her jeans and panties. Her breath caught at the heightened need etched in his handsome face, the fine sheen of perspiration glistening on his bronzed skin. She reveled in the knowledge that she’d caused that look and, inch by slow inch, she revealed herself to him.

By the time her clothes had been tossed on the floor with his, Flint looked like a man in pain and she felt little better.

“Come here,” he commanded.

She proudly walked toward him and into his embrace. But when he tried to pull her to him, she shook her head. She had no intention of ending the performance before she’d exhausted every bit of knowledge she’d ever heard or read about seducing a man.

Her voice a sensual purr, she scolded, “Not yet, cowboy. There’s more.”

Flint’s groan of frustrated pleasure delighted her and, remembering something she’d read in a book, she lightly brushed the tips of her breasts against his hair-roughened chest. Never allowing their bodies to touch completely, she wrapped her leg around his and slid her foot along the back of his calf.

When it came to the next step, her courage threatened to desert her. She wasn’t sure she could do what the heroine in the book had done, but she’d gone too far to turn back now. Besides, Flint hadn’t complained so far.

Swallowing her inhibitions, Jenna bumped the lower part of her body to his, then arched her back to bring them into full contact. The jolt of torrid desire that resulted had them both gasping for air.

“Enough, woman!”

His reaction far exceeded Jenna’s expectations, and her confidence blossomed. “Then lie down, cowboy.”

Flint had no idea what Jenna intended next, but her wide, gray eyes promised ecstasy, and he found her taking the role of seductress excited the hell out of him. Reclining, he watched her gaze caress his body. She was as turned on as he was, and he knew it would be like nothing he’d ever experienced when they came together.

She straddled him, her body consuming his, slowly, completely, and he felt as if his head would come right off his shoulders. Flint wanted it to last forever, but he was close to the point of no return. He grasped her hips to keep her from moving, in an effort to fight the wave of need that urged him to end the sweet torture.

When he finally felt a degree of restraint, he gazed up at her. “Ride me, darlin’. Ride me like you ride Black Satin.”

Filled with him, Jenna’s eyes locked with Flint’s, and she slowly rocked against him. Her body tightened when the pressure inside her quickly built to a throbbing crescendo and she fought to prolong the feeling even as she raced to end it.

She was suddenly there, and she moaned Flint’s name as her muscles contracted around him. But moments later, when his body stiffened, then gave up his essence in great, quaking spasms, Jenna gasped at the pleasure rippling through her a second time. And she responded yet again to the man she loved.

Flint held Jenna close. He felt as if he could move mountains. He’d heard it was possible, but he’d never before incited a woman to such heights of passion. Nor had he ever reached them himself. At least not until today.

He hugged her tight. He wanted to tell her what he was feeling—how much she’d come to mean to him. But she suddenly jerked from his embrace, sat up and grabbed for the sheet.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?”

She eluded his grasp, got out of bed and scrambled to pull on her clothes. “Good grief, Flint. We didn’t even close the door. What if Ryan or Whiskers had walked by?”

He propped his hands behind his head and regretfully watched her cover her delectable body. “You don’t need to worry. They left before dawn. They’ve gone to visit Whiskers’s sister.” He left the bed to give her a quick, hard kiss, then pulled on his own clothes. “After the trouble with the saddle and the fire last night, I couldn’t be sure Ryan wouldn’t be a target.”

She pulled her shirt over her head. “I’m going to miss them, but I think you made the right decision.”

Before she could tuck the garment into her jeans, Flint stepped behind her and reached around to cup her breasts. Damn, but the woman could even drive him wild putting her clothes on.

“I want you in here with me tonight, Jenna,” he said, nuzzling the side of her throat.

“Okay. But on one condition.”

He nipped at the hollow behind her ear. “What’s that?”

She turned, grabbed him by the shirt collar and drew him down for her kiss. “You strip for me tonight, cowboy.”

Delighted with her playfulness, Flint lowered his lips to plant tiny kisses at her temple, her eyelids and the tip of her nose. Leaning back, he grinned. “Another fantasy?”

The ringing of the phone interrupted her answer. Irritated, Flint snatched the receiver from the cradle. “Rocking M.”

He listened a moment, then covered the mouthpiece and turned to Jenna. “Could you go down to the study and see if I left my truck keys on the desk?”

Waiting until she’d left the room, he asked, “Is he still alive?” Flint listened to the answer, his gut twisting into a tight knot. “We’ll be right there.”

Flint pulled on his boots, a mixture of fear and dread racing through his veins. Meeting Jenna on her way back up the stairs, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Darlin’, there’s been an accident. We have to go to the hospital.”

Her face bleached white. “Ryan?”

Flint shook his head. “Cooper was gored in the back by a bull at the rodeo in Amarillo.”

“Oh, God, no! Not again.”

Her knees buckled, and Flint caught her to him. “He’s hurt pretty bad, but he’s still alive.”

Trembling against him, her tears wet his shirt. “I can’t lose him. Not like this. I can’t go through this again.”

Flint gave her a little shake as he tried to get through to her. “I said he’s alive, Jenna. He’s in surgery.”

He led her out of the house and helped her into his truck. Her reaction bothered him. If there was one thing he’d learned in the past few weeks it was that Jenna wasn’t prone to panic. He’d seen her give a good accounting of herself in several emergency situations, and she’d handled each one with calm efficiency. But the way she stared straight ahead without seeing things, the way she stumbled along beside him without seeming to care where he took her, scared him as little else could.

Putting the truck in gear, he formulated a plan. Maybe if he could get her to talk, she’d come out of the disturbing lethargy. “What did you mean you can’t go through this again? Are you talking about your father’s accident?”

“Yes.” Her voice caught. “I lost Dan at the same time.”

“Dan?”

She turned to look at him as if she hadn’t been aware he was even in the truck with her. “My fiancé.”

Flint felt as if he’d taken a sucker punch to the gut. She’d been engaged? She hadn’t mentioned it before and neither had the investigator’s report.

His hands clenched the steering wheel. “What happened?”

“Bull riders didn’t wear flak vests like they do now,” she answered, her voice flat. “Daddy was one of the bull-fighters that day. He did his best to draw the bull away from Dan. But after the bull injured Daddy, it turned back to Dan. Dan died in the arena.”

Flint felt as though he’d taken another punch. No wonder she was in a state of shock. She knew this nightmare all to well.

Reaching over, he unfastened her seat belt, then pulled her into the center of the bench seat. He hugged her close, offering her his strength. “Dan Tyler?”

She nodded. “Did you know him?”

“No. But I remember reading about his death. That was up in Oklahoma City, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” She shuddered. “That’s why the money is in the Oklahoma bank.”

“You were the beneficiary on his insurance policy,” Flint stated. He felt lower than dirt. Last night and this morning, he’d all but accused her of acquiring the money from selling his cattle.

She nodded. “But I’ll never spend a penny of it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The last thing I wanted was to profit from his death,” she said, her voice dull. “I wanted Dan, not the money.”

Flint’s gut twisted and his guilt increased. He wasn’t proud of it by a long shot, but he felt a stab of jealousy at the thought of Dan Tyler holding Jenna, kissing her. But the more Flint thought about it, the more precious he realized the gift of her virginity had been. She’d been engaged to the young man, but she’d chosen Flint to be the first man she made love with.

They rode in silence for a time before Jenna spoke again. “When Cooper came by the ranch, he told me this was his last rodeo.” Her voice caught on a sob, and she buried her face in her hands. “Why didn’t he quit sooner? And why wasn’t he wearing his flak vest?”

“I can’t answer that, darlin’,” Flint said, tightening his arm around her.

“Do they think he’ll make it?” she asked, her voice reflecting her fear.

“They didn’t say,” Flint hedged.

He wished he could tell Jenna everything would be fine, that Cooper would be okay. But he couldn’t. The hospital had informed him the man was in critical condition and they wanted the next of kin notified immediately.

“Thank you for being here with me.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, darlin’.”

He didn’t want to leave Jenna. She needed him. And whether it was due to the guilt he felt or the fact that he felt more for her than he had any woman, Flint needed for her to need him.

Eleven

If she lost Cooper, she’d have no one. No family left at all, Jenna thought as she paced the length of the empty waiting area, then stopped to stare out the window.

“Would you like some coffee?” Flint asked, coming to stand behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her back against him.

Within the security of Flint’s arms, she drew strength and tried to chase away the chilling numbness. She couldn’t imagine life without her brother. After their mother left, their father had more or less lost interest in life, and Cooper had taken it upon himself to help her through the difficulties of growing up.

A ghost of a smile touched Jenna’s lips. She could remember the time he’d taken her to a discount store, and together they’d tried to pick out her first bra. Neither one of them had any idea what to look for, but they’d done their best. And not once had Cooper teased her about having to stuff the cups. Then, a year later, uncomfortable and blushing furiously, Cooper had done the best a seventeen-year-old boy could to explain how her body was changing, and that it didn’t mean she would die just because she’d gotten her first period.

Cooper had been with her the day of her father’s and Dan’s accidents, too. He’d held her while her world fell apart, then had seen her through the difficult days following Dan’s funeral and her father’s hospitalization.

Whether real or imaginary, there had been so many times Cooper had helped her over the hurdles of life. And even though she knew he’d been disappointed by her reluctance to watch him ride, he understood why she couldn’t.

Dear God, what would she do if something happened to him?

Flint tightened his arms around her. He’d heard the broken sob she tried to hide. “Why don’t we sit down, darlin’?” he asked gently. He led her to the couch, settled her beside him, then gathered her into his arms.

Normally he got as far away from a teary female as he could. He never knew quite what to say or do when the waterworks started. But each one of Jenna’s quiet sobs tore at his heart, and he felt her pain all the way to his soul.

He held her close and rocked her while her tears wet his shirt and burned his skin beneath. “Jenna, is there anything I can get you?”

“No. Just hold me. Please.”

Flint hugged her close and brushed his lips across the top of her head. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you go, until you tell me to.”

Several hours later a man in surgical blues appeared at the door of the waiting room. “Are you here for Mr. Adams?”

“Is my brother going to be all right?”

Flint tried to judge the doctor’s expression, but the man’s stoic look gave nothing away. Bracing himself for whatever would come, he took Jenna’s hand in his.

“Mr. Adams made it through surgery,” the man assured them. He sat down in the chair across from them. “I’m Dr. Langston. I was the surgeon on call this weekend.”

“Is my brother going to make it?” Jenna demanded. She gripped Flint’s hand as if it were a lifeline.

“I’m not sure,” Langston answered honestly. “He’s suffered some very serious injuries. We had to remove his spleen because of the puncture wounds, and he had several broken ribs. One of them pierced his left lung and, due to compression on the heart, we had to administer CPR before we got him into surgery.”

Jenna gasped and Flint put his arm around her. “How soon will you know?” he asked.

Dr. Langston rested his forearms on his knees and squarely met Flint’s gaze. “I’d say if Mr. Adams can make it through the next twenty-four hours, he has a fair chance. He’s strong and in good physical condition. That’s in his favor. And he seems to have a pigheaded determination to live. Otherwise we’d have never made it to surgery with him.”

“When can I see him?” Jenna asked.

“He’ll be in postop for a while, then we’ll move him to intensive care.” Dr. Langston stood up. “I’ll make arrangements for you to see him as soon as he comes out of recovery. After that, I’d like to keep the visits to short intervals every few hours. Right now, rest is important. His body needs time to get over the trauma of the accident and start the healing process.”

Flint rose to shake hands with the man. “Thanks.”

Dr. Langston smiled as he pumped Flint’s arm. “I’ll have someone show you to the ICU.”

“Miss Adams?”

Instantly awake, Jenna jerked from Flint’s arms. “Is it Cooper? Is he all right?”

“As far as I know, your brother is still doing fine,” the woman said. She smiled, but it wasn’t friendly. “My name is Miss Hart. I need to talk with you in the business office.”

“Can’t it wait?” Flint asked, coming to his feet. “Miss Adams isn’t up to dealing with this right now.”

Of medium height, the woman managed to look down her nose at the man towering over her. “Are you a relative?”

“Friend of the family.”

Jenna noticed Flint’s tone matched the same chilling degree as Miss Hart’s.

The woman sniffed and turned back to Jenna. “There are papers to be filled out and method of payment to discuss.” She waved her hand and walked toward the door. “Follow me.”

Entering a small office, the gray-haired woman seated herself behind a desk. She motioned to the only other chair in the office. “Sit down, Miss Adams. Your brother wasn’t capable of furnishing any information last night.” Miss Hart turned to her computer keyboard and entered Cooper’s patient number. “I understand he’s a bull rider?”

“That’s right,” Jenna answered, sitting down.

“And I suppose the only insurance he carries is the standard policy issued when he became a professional cowboy?” Miss Hart asked.

Jenna nodded. “He rides the rough stock. It’s the only insurance he can get.”

“I’m well aware insurance companies won’t write policies for people in so foolish a profession.” Miss Hart keyed in the information. “If he expires there will be the death benefit. Does he have a savings account?”

“That’s none of your business,” Flint said flatly.

“And this, sir, is none of yours,” Miss Hart retorted.

Jenna jumped to her feet. “Don’t worry about the bill. What insurance doesn’t pay for, I will. Show me where to sign.”

Miss Hart looked dubious. “Are you employed, young lady?”

“Gainfully!” Jenna pointed to Flint. “If you don’t believe me, just ask this man how much I’m charging to train his horse.”

When Flint nodded, Jenna grabbed an ink pen, signed her name to the paper the woman shoved across the desk, then slammed it on the polished surface. “You’ll get your money, Miss Hart. But I’d better get an itemized statement listing everything that’s done for my brother. And I don’t want to see the word miscellaneous anywhere on it. If a nurse so much as combs his hair, I’d better see it listed on the bill.”

“Now see here—”

“No!” Jenna planted her hands on the desk and leaned forward. “You see here. Cooper is the only living relative I have. He means the world to me, and I’m worried to death that I’ll lose him. But his life means little or nothing to you. All you see is a six-foot dollar sign in that bed.”

“Well, I never—”

“That’s probably what’s wrong with you,” Flint interjected.

Miss Hart stood up. “Every time a rodeo comes to town, one of your kind gets injured in his quest for eight seconds of glory. Then I’m stuck with working out a payment plan.”

Flint didn’t normally throw his weight around, but this woman had it coming. And he was more than glad to give it to her. “Have you heard of the Rocking M Ranch, Miss Hart?”

“Of course.” The woman’s chin rose haughtily. “It’s one of the largest ranches in the panhandle, and Mr. McCray has been quite generous with his donations to our hospital.”

Flint stuck out his hand. “I’m very glad to meet you, Miss Hart. The name’s McCray…Flint McCray.”

Miss Hart peered at him through her glasses, then suddenly looked as if a bee had flown up her skirt. “Oh, dear! I didn’t recognize you in—” she pointed to his clothes “—in that attire.”

Satisfied he had her attention, Flint smiled. “Appearances can be deceiving.” He put an arm around Jenna’s shoulders. “Take this lady, for instance. She has enough money to buy and sell you several times over. But just because she’s wearing jeans and boots, you treat her like a second-class citizen.”

“Well…I, uh…you see—”

“I’m afraid I do, Miss Hart,” Flint interrupted, his smile turning to a deep frown. “But, just so we have things clear between us, let me spell it out in terms even you can understand. Cooper Adams is a rodeo rider, but he’s also a personal friend of mine. He’d better receive the very best care this hospital can provide, or the gravy train will dry up. There won’t be any more ‘generous donations’ from me. Is that understood?”

“Yes, but—”

“Good. Because if my contributions to this hospital cease, I can guarantee my old friend, Nate Bolinger, will contact me to find out the reason.” Flint steered Jenna to the door. Turning back, he smiled. “And we both know damned good and well I’ll be obligated to tell him…Miss Hart.”

Jenna stepped out into the hall. “I could buy and sell her? Where did that come from?”

Flint grinned and fell in beside her. “I was on a roll.”

“Who is Nate Bolinger?” she asked.

“The hospital administrator,” he said, grinning.

Walking along the quiet corridors, Jenna jammed her hands into her jeans pockets. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper with Miss Hart, but she really knows how to push a person’s buttons.”

“Darlin’, the only heart that woman has is her last name.”

“Miss Adams?” The intensive care nurse coming toward Jenna grinned. “Your brother’s awake and asking for you.”

Jenna was only vaguely aware Flint followed her when she rushed into the room where Cooper lay hooked up to an IV and monitors. Gently touching his dark-blond hair, she searched every inch of Cooper’s face. He had several bruises, and his blue eyes were clouded with pain, but otherwise he looked good for all he’d been through.

“My number wasn’t up yet, little sister,” Cooper said, his voice weak. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Oh, Cooper, why didn’t you wear your protective vest?”

“Must…have lost it. It wasn’t in my riggin’ bag.”

When he reached up to take her hand, she couldn’t keep a tear from rolling down her cheek. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

“Enough.” Cooper noticed Flint standing at her shoulder. “Have you two…been here all night?”

Flint smiled. “Couldn’t think of anything better to do.”

“You couldn’t think of a better place…to spend the night with my sister?” Cooper asked, his voice little more than a hoarse croak. “You must not…get out much, McCray.”

Jenna noticed Cooper was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. “Just rest. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Cooper shook his head, then looked directly at Flint. “Take care…of her, McCray.”

“I will,” Flint promised as Cooper lost consciousness.

After scanning the same entry five times without an inkling of what he’d read, Flint shoved the ranch books aside. His thoughts went back to the scene in Miss Hart’s office a week ago. He still couldn’t get over the way Jenna had signed the paper accepting responsibility for Cooper’s medical bills. Without having to think twice, she’d put her own dreams on hold, in order to see her brother taken care of.

She’d do anything for Cooper. Would she do the same for Flint? Would she be willing to base her training business at the Rocking M and stay with him?

When he heard a truck pull up the drive, Flint abandoned his speculation. A smile spread across his face, and his mood lightened. Switching off the desk light, he left the study. Jenna was back from the hospital, and the endless hours he’d spent trying but accomplishing nothing were over.

“Hi, darlin’,” he said, opening the door and taking her into his arms. When she snuggled against him, Flint tightened his embrace. “How’s Cooper?”

“They moved him out of intensive care today.” Jenna smiled up at him. “Dr. Langston said if he keeps improving at this rate, he’ll be released in a few days.”

“Great.” Flint nibbled a path of kisses from her temple down to the hollow of her throat. “He can use Whiskers’s room just off the kitchen. That way he won’t have stairs to climb.”

Jenna drew back to look at him. “Flint, do you mean it? You want Cooper to come here?”

“Of course.” Flint gazed down at her, his body tightening at the feel of her in his arms, the herbal scent of her hair. “He’ll need somewhere to convalesce. What better place than the Rocking M?” He kissed her until they were both weak. “Besides, you’ll be here to take care of him.” He kissed her again. “And I’ll be here to take care of you.”

The hours she’d been gone had stretched out like an eternity, and Flint wondered how he would survive if she left the Rocking M. But Jenna was in his arms now, and the magic of her touch, her response to his kiss, fueled the hunger that had gnawed at him all evening.

Jenna gave a startled squeak when Flint scooped her up and headed for the stairs. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. He had been so wonderful the last few days, so loving. He’d understood her need to be at the hospital, and even though he couldn’t always go with her to visit Cooper, there wasn’t a night he hadn’t waited up for her.

“I bought a new T-shirt today.” Nibbling on his earlobe, she asked, “Do you want to know what it said?”

“What?”

“Texans like it hot and spicy,” she whispered, allowing her words to feather over his ear.

When his steps faltered and a growl rumbled up from deep in his chest, she laughed. “Does the Texan have a problem?”

“Not for long.” Flint shouldered open the door to his room and set her on her feet. “This Texan is about to prove T-shirt sayings are based on fact.”

He started to pull her to him, but Jenna side-stepped his grasp. “A few days ago we made a deal.”

He looked confused. “We did?”

She nodded and took hold of his shirt to draw his head down to hers. “Your turn, cowboy.”

“My turn?” His face lit suddenly. “To do the stripping?”

“Uh-huh.”

Flint grinned and bent to take off his boots. He was as excited at the thought of stripping for Jenna as he’d been when she stripped for him.

“Music.” He pointed to the bedside table. “If I’m going to do this right, I need music.”

Jenna switched on the clock radio and a Garth Brooks song filtered into the room. She grinned. “This should be interesting.”

By the time he had them undressed, his exaggerated bumps and grinds, his outrageous lip-sync about friends hanging out in low places, had them both collapsing on the bed.

He’d never before thought of laughter and playfulness as arousing, but with Jenna it seemed all things were possible. “Did that meet your expectations, darlin’?”

Jenna laughed. “You should take that show on the road, cowboy. You’re quite talented.”

He shook his head and gathered her to him. “That was just for you, Jenna. Only you.”

The friction of flesh on flesh, male touching female, worked its age-old magic, and their amusement quickly faded.

Flint gazed down at Jenna for endless seconds. He found he wanted to give to her in a way he’d never given to any woman, to take her to heights never before reached. Trailing kisses down the length of her, he pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh.

“Flint…”

Waves of desire shot through her at the first intimate contact of his kiss, and Jenna clutched his hair. Never had pleasure been so keen, so intense that it bordered on pain. Without warning, she was poised on the edge, her body tight with feeling, her mind reeling with wild need. Flint took her beyond the brink, then, with a tenderness that brought tears to her eyes, he slowly rose above her and joined their bodies in one smooth stroke.

Pleasure—exquisite and perfect—raced through her again, and Jenna felt as if her heart had been branded by the power of it. Surprised by the force of her fulfillment, she cried out as Flint took her to a place only lovers go, and moments later she felt his soul touch hers as he gave in to the force of his own climax.

Twelve

When Flint got out of the truck and walked across the ranch yard toward her, Jenna smiled. He’d left early that morning to go visit Ryan and Whiskers up in Oklahoma, and she’d found her day interminable without him.

“Did you have a nice trip?”

“Not as nice as if you’d been with me,” he said, putting his arms around her.

His warm breath close to her ear sent a streak of longing straight through her. “You know I couldn’t leave Cooper here alone. He’s only been out of the hospital three days.”

The back door slammed, and Flint stopped nibbling on her ear. “Speaking of your brother, we’d better go see if he needs help.”

Jenna rushed forward at the sight of Cooper descending the porch steps, while trying to balance his cane and a lawn chair. “Why didn’t you ask for help?”

“Dammit, Jenna! I can do a few things for myself. Just back off and stop hovering.” Cooper looked at Flint. “Can’t you manage to keep her busy, McCray?”

Flint grinned and took the chair. “I’m doing my best.”

“Try a little harder,” Cooper grumbled. He glared at her. “She makes me nervous.”

“You make me nervous.” She watched her brother limp toward the corral. “You’ve only been out of the hospital a few days, and Dr. Langston told you to take it easy.”

Cooper frowned. “If I take it any easier, moss will start growing on my butt.”

“Moss on your backside beats pushing up daisies.”

“Look, Sis, if I have to watch one more cap-toothed, game show host give away a year’s supply of dog food or laundry detergent, I’m going to go crazy. Now leave me alone.” Cooper pointed to an oak tree near the corral. “I’m going to sit over there and watch you work with Satin.”

Jenna could understand her brother’s restlessness, his need to be out in the fresh air. He’d always been very active, and to be confined for almost two weeks had to be nerve-racking. But he needed to take it easy, and she intended to see he did.

Once Cooper was settled in the chair Flint set up for him, she went to saddle the stallion, and by the time she led Black Satin into the round pen, she had a full-fledged audience. Assisted by Jed and Tom, Jim used his crutches to walk over from the bunkhouse, and the three had joined Flint and Cooper under the oak tree.

“Do you mind putting on a show for the walking wounded?” Jim asked, settling in the chair Jed brought with them.

“Not at all. Satin needs to get used to working in front of an audience.”

She mounted the stallion and, starting with a warm-up, moved on to the patterns he would need to execute in competition. Using the reins and leg pressure, she put Satin through a series of spins, loped him in both large and small circles, brought him to a sliding stop, then directed him to back up.

“That stallion don’t act like the same horse,” Jed commented, his disbelief evident.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear somebody replaced Satin with a ringer,” Tom added.

“I haven’t seen a horse yet that my little sister couldn’t train,” Cooper said, smiling proudly.

Satisfied with Satin’s performance, Jenna patted the stud’s ebony neck and rode over to the side of the corral where the men sat. “Looks like my job here is almost finished.”

A deep scowl lined Flint’s features. “Boys, I need to talk to Jenna. Jed, help Jim to the bunkhouse. Tom, you see that Cooper gets back inside.”

When the grumbling men were out of earshot, Flint demanded, “How much longer before Satin’s training is finished?”

She pulled the saddle from the horse and placed it on the top board of the fence. “A couple of days.”

“Where’s your next job?”

She brushed Satin with vigorous strokes. “From here I go back to Cal Reynolds’s Houston ranch, then Fort Worth. Why?”

“How would you like to train those horses here?”

Jenna searched Flint’s face. She’d observed his frown at the mention of her job being completed, and a bubble of hope began to form. “What do you mean?”

“After paying Cooper’s hospital bill, it’s going to be some time before you have enough for your own place.” He took the brush from her hand and pulled her into his arms. “Besides, I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay here with me.”

“Why?” Say it, Flint. Tell me you love me.

The seconds ticked by as Flint stared down at her. “Because this is where you belong.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because you love me.”

“And?”

He hesitated. “I want you. You’re the most exciting, passionate woman I’ve ever met. We’re good together.”

“That’s not enough.” She stepped away from him and led Satin to the pasture gate. Releasing the stallion, she turned back to Flint, tears blurring her vision. “You want me to stay, but with no strings attached?”

His hands propped on his hips, Flint shook his head. “I didn’t say that.”

“What are you saying, Flint?” she asked softly.

“You know I care for you,” he hedged.

“But?”

She watched him rub the back of his neck in an obvious effort to relieve the tension. “I still have some things to work through.”

Jenna felt a chilling numbness settle over her. “I’m not your ex-wife, Flint. I’m not Nicole.”

“I never said you were.”

Tears ran unchecked down her pale cheeks. “You didn’t have to.” Jenna squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “Cooper and I will be leaving the day after tomorrow, as soon as I finish Satin’s training session.”

When she turned to walk away, Flint reached out to stop her. “Jenna—”

“No, Flint.” She shrugged out of his grasp and started for the house. “There’s nothing left to say.”

Jenna shivered against the icy solitude of her bed a moment before she threw back the covers. She couldn’t stand another minute lying there while her mind and body warred with her heart.

She loved Flint, ached for his touch. But if he couldn’t believe in her, then they had no basis for a relationship and no reason for her to stay on the Rocking M.

She sniffed and padded barefoot down the stairs and into the kitchen. She rarely ever cried. But with her emotions in such turmoil, she couldn’t seem to stop. Maybe if she drank some milk it would help her relax enough to sleep for what few hours were left of the night.

“What’s wrong, little sister?” Cooper asked, leaning against the door frame.

Whiskers’s room was off the kitchen and, afraid she might disturb her brother, she hadn’t turned on the overhead light. But from the moonlight streaming through the window, she could tell he’d been up for some time. His dark-blond hair was mussed as if he’d run his hands through it several times, and his face wore a ravaged look.

“Did you have the nightmare again?”

He gave her a tight nod. “Each time I close my eyes.”

“The doctor told you it might be a while before you stopped reliving the accident.” She opened the refrigerator. “Would you like some milk? It might help you relax.”

“No.” He walked over to sit down at the table. “And it won’t help you, either.”

“It might.”

Cooper snorted. “Milk never has been, nor will it ever be, a substitute for a man’s arms.”

Jenna sucked in a sharp breath. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, little sister. Your room is right above mine. Tonight’s the first night you’ve been in there since I was released from the hospital.”

“Oh, Lord. I…I didn’t realize—” She closed the refrigerator door, the milk forgotten.

Cooper shrugged. “It’s no big deal. You’re an adult. And besides, I know you and McCray are in love.”

Without warning, tears began to stream down Jenna’s cheeks. “Oh, Cooper, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

In spite of the soreness from his injuries, Cooper was at her side, folding her into his arms. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing. Everything,” she sobbed. “Oh, Cooper, I love him so much.”

“So what’s the problem?”

She buried her face in his shoulder. “He doesn’t love me. If he did, he’d believe in me.”

“Now hold it,” Cooper said, drawing back to look at her. “I know he cares for you. I’ve seen that with my own eyes.”

Jenna nodded. “But he doesn’t trust me.”

“Why don’t we sit down and you tell me all about this?” Cooper led her to the table. “Then I’ll decide whether or not I’m going to have to kick McCray’s butt.”

“Are you sure you’re up to it?”

He grinned. “I may have to wait a month or so before I can do the job right, but rest assured, I’ll do it.” Taking her hand in his, his expression became serious. “What’s wrong, little sister?”

Jenna took a deep breath, and by the time she finished telling him about Flint’s ex-wife’s greed and how she kept Ryan from him, Cooper was shaking his head.

“No wonder Flint has his doubts about getting involved with another woman. I’d feel the same way if some woman did that to me.” Cooper squeezed her cold hand. “Give Flint some time, little sister. He’ll eventually get a handle on things, then nothing will stand in the way of you two working things out.”

“But how long will that take?”

“A day, a week, a month. I don’t know.” Cooper smiled. “But I don’t think it will take too long. From what you’ve said, Flint doesn’t want you to leave.” His smile turned to a chuckle. “I know if I had it that bad for a woman, I’d move heaven and earth to see she stayed put.”

Jenna shrugged. “Maybe you would, but I’m not so sure about Flint.”

“I am,” Cooper said firmly. “He’ll find a way to stop you from leaving.”

“But what if—”

“Trust me. He will.” He slowly rose to his feet, then pulled her up beside him. “Now go get some sleep, little sister.” He winked. “If you don’t, you’ll look like I feel.”

Her smile tremulous she asked, “Are you going to be all right?”

“Sure thing.” Cooper started to enter his room, but turned back. “What’s Jed’s last name?”

“Summers,” Jenna answered. “Why?”

Cooper shook his head. “He sure doesn’t seem to like me much. He takes off every time I try to talk to him. I know I’ve seen him somewhere before, but for the life of me, I can’t remember where.”

“You probably met him when you stopped by a few weeks ago. And don’t worry about his being unfriendly. From what I’ve seen he’s a loner.”

“I don’t think so.” He looked thoughtful. “Jim was still in the hospital, and Tom and Jed had the night off. The only one of the guys I met was Brad. By the way, where was Brad tonight?”

“Flint sent him to check out another packing house he thinks might be accepting the stolen cattle.” She yawned. “He should be back sometime tomorrow.”

“You’d better get back to bed, little sister.”

She kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Cooper.”

“Everything will work out. Wait and see.” He chuckled and started through the door to his room. “If they have to, big brother and his Smith & Wesson will make sure of it.”

By the time Flint finished off his first pot of coffee, his head felt as if it had gone down from the size of a beach ball to that of a basketball. He knew better than to mix inner strife with a bottle of Scotch, but like a fool he’d done it, anyway. And this morning he had to pay the price. Only now he faced it with an unmercifully throbbing head, a stomach that churned like a cement mixer and eyes so bloodshot they could be used for road maps.

The ringing phone made him wince. The sound felt as if it went straight to the center of his brain and just sat there vibrating.

He picked up the receiver before it could ring again and cause more pain. “Rocking M,” he said quietly.

“Flint?” Jed sounded excited. “I think you’d better get up here to the Circle S shack as fast as you can.”

Instantly alert, Flint straightened. “What’s up?”

“I caught a couple of the rustlers.”

“Can you hold them?” Flint asked, his headache forgotten.

Jed chuckled. “I reckon so. I’ve got ’em trussed up like prized pigs.”

“I’ll be right there.” Flint pressed the flash hook, dialed Sheriff Bartlow to report the situation, then took his rifle from the gun rack. On his way to saddle his horse, he met Jenna coming out of the tack room.

“What’s up?” she asked, pointing to the rifle.

“Jed called on one of the cell phones. He caught some of the rustlers up at the old Circle S cabin.”

He reached out to trace the dark circles under her eyes. He wanted to tell her how much he’d missed her last night, how even through the liquor-induced fog in his brain he’d craved her touch. But now wasn’t the time.

“I need to get up to the cabin,” he said, dropping his hand to his side. “We’ll talk when I get back.”

“Flint, I don’t—”

He put his finger to her lips. “When I get back, darlin’.”

Resigned, Jenna sighed. “All right.”

Flint caught the bay, saddled and mounted it, then rode up beside her. Leaning down he gave her a quick kiss. “We’ll work things out.”

Watching him ride from the ranch yard, Jenna stood staring in the direction he’d headed long after he disappeared from sight. She loved Flint so much her insides ached with it, but could their problems be solved that easily? By catching the rustlers, any lingering doubts he had about her being involved would be erased. But was that enough for him to trust her?

Shaking her head, she walked toward the house. She just wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to put the past behind him and trust again.

“Where did Flint go?” Cooper asked when she entered the kitchen. “He took out of here like a scalded dog.”

“He’s headed for the Circle S line shack.” She started for the stairs. “Jed caught a couple of the rustlers.”

Cooper looked thoughtful a moment before swearing a blue streak. “It’s a trap.”

She whirled around to face him. “What do you mean?”

“I just remembered where I’ve seen Jed.” He grabbed a set of keys from the hooks by the back door and shoved them into her hand. “We’ve got to stop Flint. He’s walking into a trap.”

Jenna stopped short. “Slow down, Cooper. You’re not making any sense. Now what’s this about a trap?”

He took a deep breath and held his side. “When you mentioned the Circle S, I remembered where I’ve seen Jed.” He paused for breath, then continued. “A couple of nights before the accident, I was in a honky-tonk in Amarillo. This guy was tanked up and spouting off about finally getting the Circle S back. I didn’t know he worked for Flint or that the ranch he talked about was part of the Rocking M. He just said he’d been pestering the present owner for several months and by the time he got finished with the guy, there wouldn’t be enough left to stuff in a paper bag. It was Jed.”

“His family did own the Circle S before the McCrays.” Jenna felt sick inside. “But he’s worked for Flint’s family for years. Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Cooper motioned toward the door. “Now get your rear end in gear. We’ve got to stop Flint.”

Jenna threw the keys on the counter. “I’ll have to go on horseback. The only road leading up there comes in from the north and it’s miles out of the way.”

As she ran for the corral, Cooper hobbled after her. He stopped to retrieve something from Daisy, and by the time he made it to the barn, she had the buckskin saddled.

He shoved a heavy object into her hands. “Here. You might need this.”

She took the hand gun and placed it in one of the saddle bags. “Can you make it back to the house?”

“Hell, yes! Now get up there and stop Flint from walking into a trap.”

Jenna mounted the buckskin. “There’s a list of numbers by the wall phone in the kitchen. Call the sheriff, then get hold of Tom on his cellular. Tell him what’s going on and have him get up to the cabin as soon as he can.”

“Did Flint take one?”

She tried to think if Flint had one of the units. “No. He was in a hurry and I don’t guess he thought of it.”

“Be careful!” she heard Cooper call as she kicked the horse into a run and headed in the direction of the Circle S.

Flint rode up to the little cabin and dismounted. He looked around the area but found no sign of Jed or the rustlers. He checked inside the lean-to. Jed’s horse stood tied to a rail, but the man was nowhere to be found. Something wasn’t right.

Removing the rifle from the boot on his saddle, Flint went to the front of the cabin and nudged the door open. He cautiously looked inside, but the interior was deserted. As he walked back out into the sunlight, he felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. The now familiar hate-filled stare was boring a hole into his back.

“It was you all along,” Flint said, turning to face Jed Summers. “I should have known. You were the one who conveniently found the note and the empty kerosene can.”

“That’s right, McCray.” Jed stepped from behind a small thicket of mesquite. He pointed his gun at Flint’s chest. “Drop your rifle and kick it over here.”

Weighing his options, Flint hesitated.

“Don’t even think about it.” When Flint placed the rifle on the ground, Jed nodded. “Smart move. I’d hate to kill you before you sign this quitclaim deed and I get my property back.”

“That piece of paper won’t hold up. My lawyers will tear it apart in court.”

“Your lawyers can go to hell.” Jed laughed. “And you won’t be around to argue with what I tell ’em.”

“That’s murder.”

Shaking his head, Jed slipped on a pair of leather gloves, then bent to pick up Flint’s rifle. “Accident.”

“Of course.”

Jed checked to make sure Flint’s gun had a cartridge in the chamber, then handed him a paper. “Sign this, so I can kill you.”

“How are you going to set up the accident?” Flint asked, stalling for time.

Jed’s eyes flashed. “What do you care?”

Staring at Jed’s contorted features, Flint realized he had very few options. The man was insane. But the longer he kept Jed talking, the bigger the chance Sheriff Bartlow would show up. “Morbid curiosity,” Flint answered tightly.

“Your horse got spooked and when he piled you, your rifle went off,” Jed explained, laughing.

Flint detected movement on the hill behind Jed, and when he realized Jenna was making her way down the side, his heart came up in his throat. He had to keep Jed talking in hopes of distracting the man and keeping her location concealed. Flint refused to consider what might happen if he didn’t.

Careful to keep from revealing her position, Flint asked, “How do you intend to explain my signing over the Circle S?”

Jed chuckled. “That’s the best part yet. I saved my cut of the profits. Those beeves we got two weeks ago put me over the top. When they find you, you’ll have the cash tucked in your pocket.” He laughed out loud. “Money made off your own cattle.”

“Who were you working with?”

“What do you care? You’ll be dead.”

“I told you, I’m curious.”

“I got a couple of buddies up in Oklahoma with a semi.” Jed looked pleased with himself. “And another one who used to work at a packing house. He’d dress them brutes out in a refrigerated trailer and take ’em to another guy with a counterfeit stamp.”

Flint made a show of disgust by rolling his eyes in order to let his gaze dart to where Jenna stood. He almost wished he hadn’t. She’d managed to slip around to the side of Jed. If the man decided to take a shot at her, there wasn’t a damned thing Flint could do to prevent it from happening.

“You won’t get away with it,” he warned Jed.

“And just who’s gonna stop me?” Jed’s grin was filled with confidence. “Dead men cain’t tell no tales.”

“I will,” Jenna said, leveling her gun on Jed. She’d never before pointed a firearm at another human being, but she’d do whatever it took to save Flint.

Thirteen

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jed asked.

“Cooper finally remembered why you looked familiar.” She shrugged one shoulder. “When you drink, you get very talkative.”

Jed’s curse was crude and guttural. “He shoulda died.”

Jenna narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I saw you two talkin’ down by the creek that day he stopped to visit, but you didn’t see me. After I spouted off in that bar, I figured I’d better cover my tracks. So I asked around and found out he’d drawn The Shredder for his first ride. The mornin’ after the fire, I broke into his truck, stole his vest and messed with his equipment.” Jed shook his head. “If that bull rope had turned loose one jump sooner…”

Jenna had heard enough. The bull Jed mentioned was notorious for trying to hook a rider with his sharp horns, and Jed had already said he’d intended for Cooper to die.

“Drop that rifle or I swear to God I’ll shoot you.”

Jed sneered. “That’s a mighty big gun you’ve got there, missy. It takes a lot of guts to pull the trigger and I don’t think a little gal like you—”

Jenna took aim at Jed’s hat and fired.

When his hat landed in the dust several feet away, Jed cursed. “Dammit to hell! You pull another stunt like that and I’ll kill McCray. This is between me and him.”

“Not anymore.” Anger coursed through her. “Not after you made me a target by cutting that cinch. Then you went after my brother. I’d say that makes it my business, too.”

“I figured you’d tuck tail and run.” Jed sneered. “As many times as I set you up, you shoulda got the message.”

“I don’t scare easy. And I’m not afraid to fire a gun. I’ve proven that. Now drop the rifle.”

Jed waved the gun at Flint. “I’ll shoot him first!”

“I haven’t signed the deed,” Flint reminded him. “Your plan won’t work unless I do.”

“Sign it,” Jed demanded.

Flint shook his head. “No.”

Wild-eyed, Jed started to swing the gun toward Jenna. “Sign it or I’ll shoot her.”

Jenna had already redirected her aim to the rifle in Jed’s hand and braced herself for the kickback. She didn’t want to take a chance on his reflex action causing the rifle to go off, but the second the barrel cleared Flint’s chest, she fired again.

As the bullet grazed his hand, Jed let out a yelp, dropped the gun and sank to his knees. Cradling his hand, he looked up at Jenna. “You ruined everything.”

“Watch him,” Flint said, bending to scoop up the rifles. He placed them well out of Jed’s reach, then got his rope from the bay’s saddle. When he had Jed tied up, he looked down at the man. “Why, Jed? Why did you do all this?”

His eyes filled with hatred, Jed stared at Flint. “You and your damned family stole what was rightfully mine. I should be ranchin’ the Circle S instead of you.”

“Your father sold this land over twenty-five years ago,” Flint reminded him. “You were listed as a MIA in Vietnam, and he lost heart in trying to hang on when he thought you were dead.”

“And you McCrays were standin’ by, just waitin’ to take advantage of a broken-down old man.” Jed’s face twisted with disgust. “You didn’t have enough of your own land. You bastards had to come after mine.”

Flint shook his head. “Your father offered us first chance to buy the Circle S, since it bordered the northern boundary of the Rocking M. We paid fair market value for the property.”

Jed laughed hysterically. “By the time I got back to the States, the old man had killed himself by drinkin’ up the money, and I was left with nothin’.”

“If you felt this way, why did you start working for the McCrays?” Jenna asked. “Surely you can’t blame them for something your father did.”

Jed’s wild gaze turned to Jenna. “I wanted my ranch back.”

“But why now?” Flint asked. “Why wait all this time?”

“Every one of you McCrays have done somethin’ to make the Rocking M bigger,” Jed snapped. “When you found that brat of yours, I couldn’t stand by and watch him grow up to take over. I’d a never got my land back.”

“Why didn’t you try to buy back the land?” Jenna asked.

Flint watched as something inside Jed seemed to snap and he began to babble incoherently. The man had let years of angry resentment fester into vengeful madness.

Flint ushered Jenna away from Jed. “Let’s wait over here.”

Her hands shook uncontrollably, and it appeared she might drop the ominous-looking weapon she still held.

“Where did you get this?” He took it from her and put it with the rifles. “It looks like a damned cannon.”

“When I started traveling around by myself, Cooper bought it for me and made sure I knew how to use it.” Her voice sounded shaky, and Flint could see the strain etched in her beautiful face. “He said I’d probably never have to fire it—that the sight alone would discourage anyone from bothering me.”

She shivered and Flint wrapped his arms around her as distant sirens drew closer. Jed had been right. It did take a lot of courage to point a gun at someone and pull the trigger.

“I’m glad you showed up, darlin’.” He kissed the top of her head and held her tight. “I was beginning to think I’d seen my last sunrise.”

It was well after dark by the time Flint called Whiskers to tell him it was safe to bring Ryan home.

“You say that little gal saved your bacon?” Whiskers chortled. “Didn’t I tell you ’bout her?”

Flint smiled. “Yes.”

“You’re gonna lasso her and brand her, ain’t ya?” the old man’s voice crackled across the long-distance wire.

Flint glanced at the glass dome on the mantel. “I’m thinking about it.”

“You’re a damned fool if you don’t try.” Whiskers’s voice sounded suspiciously choked. “I kinda got used to havin’ that little gal around.”

Long after he hung up the phone, Flint sat staring at the necklace. He’d kept the necklace he’d bought for Nicole to remind him of what women were really after from a man. But Jenna wasn’t like Nicole, and it was high time he stopped comparing them. He knew Jenna would never ask him to get rid of the necklace. It just wasn’t her style.

He rose from his chair, walked to the fireplace and lifted the glass dome. He stared at the glittering stones in his hand. He would do everything he could to make Jenna happy for the rest of their lives. And tomorrow morning was as good a time as any to start by laying the past to rest. He fully intended to remove the only barrier standing between himself and the woman he loved.

Jenna stood at the corral and watched Black Satin run across the pasture. The day she’d been dreading had arrived. She’d completed the stallion’s training, and, an accomplished rider in his own right, Flint could show the horse himself.

Besides, it was obvious Flint wanted her to go. He knew she would finish with Satin today and leave the ranch. But he’d left early this morning and still hadn’t returned. He probably wanted to avoid an uncomfortable situation when she and Cooper departed.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and walked back to the house. Six years ago it had taken her a long time to pick up the pieces of her shattered dreams and move forward with her life. But this time she knew for certain she’d never recover from the pain of loving Flint and not having that love returned.

Hearing a truck coming up the long drive, Jenna turned to see Whiskers and Ryan pull into the ranch yard. She’d hoped to be gone by the time they got back. Leaving the Rocking M would be one of the hardest things she ever had to do, and the thought of saying goodbye to them only added to her sorrow.

“Jenna!” Ryan ran across the yard to hurl himself into her outstretched arms. “I missed you. Did you miss me?”

“Of course I did,” she answered around the lump rising in her throat. She picked him up and held him close. “I haven’t been able to play Go Fish since you left.”

“I’m home now.” His arms encircling her neck, Ryan hugged her back. “You want me to go get the cards?”

“I, uh…” Jenna couldn’t bring herself to tell him she had to leave. When three lively balls of yellow fur came racing around the corner of the house, the dogs’ excited yaps put an effective end to Jenna’s dilemma of having to tell the little boy goodbye. She hugged him once more, then set him on his feet. “Your puppies missed you, too.”

The dogs licked Ryan’s cheeks. “I’m glad to see you guys.”

As Ryan ran across the yard with the puppies in hot pursuit, Whiskers limped up to Jenna, his toothless grin wide. “It’s good to see you, gal.”

Jenna smiled. “We all missed you, Whiskers.”

The old man apparently saw through her cheerful demeanor. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she lied.

Frowning, Whiskers shook his head. “I don’t see like I used to, but I ain’t blind, gal.”

She gazed at the open pasture. “I…I’ll be leaving the ranch in a couple of hours.”

“Does Flint know ’bout this?”

“No.” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “He’s not here.”

“Well, where is he?”

“I don’t know. He left before I got up this morning.”

“Then you just sit tight and don’t go nowhere till he gets back,” the old man commanded.

She smiled sadly. “I can’t do that.”

Whiskers jerked off his hat, threw it to the ground and stomped it. “If I live to be three hundred, I don’t guess I’ll ever see two people as mule-headed as you and Flint. You both been chompin’ at the bit for one ’nother ever since the day you met.” He picked up his hat, slapped it against his leg and started for the house. “The way you two pussy-foot around one ’nother is enough to make a body sick.”

Jenna watched Whiskers slam the door behind him. She realized his anger was fueled by disappointment. He’d made it crystal clear from the minute she came to the Rocking M that he’d like to see her stay.

Tears filled her eyes. There was nothing she wanted more than for the Rocking M to become the home she’d always longed for, to stay on the ranch with the people she loved. But Flint’s absence indicated he wanted her gone.

Jenna squared her shoulders. She’d never groveled for anything in her life. And she wasn’t going to start now. If Flint decided he could put his distrust and the past behind him, he’d have to come looking for her. She wouldn’t embarrass either one of them by being here when he returned. She had more horses to train and a life to put back together.

“Have you tried talkin’ to her?” Whiskers asked Cooper.

“Until I’m blue.” Cooper stuffed another shirt into his duffel bag. “But once she makes up her mind, bulls will start roosting in trees before she changes it.”

Whiskers scratched his head. “Well, ain’t there some way we can keep her here ’til Flint gets back?”

Cooper shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve already taken three times as long to pack as I should have.”

“What about your back?” Whiskers asked. “Ain’t it startin’ to pain you a mite?”

“I’ve already tried that, too.” Cooper grinned. “She made me take a pain pill.”

By the time Jenna got Cooper to leave, it was late afternoon. He had so many excuses for prolonging their departure that she’d finally just thrown his duffel bag in the back and demanded he get in the cab of the truck.

When she pulled away from the ranch yard for the last time, her hands clenched the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white. Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks, but she impatiently blinked them away. Flint had failed to show up all day, and the significance of his absence was devastating.

“After we get my truck out of the storage yard in Amarillo, are we going to get a motel room and wait until morning to head out for Houston?” Cooper asked.

“We will if you need to. But Daisy doesn’t have air-conditioning, and traveling at night would be cooler.”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Cooper said, staring out the window. “Stop the truck!”

She hit the brakes. “Why?”

He frowned and got out of the truck. “I heard a hissing sound. We may have a tire going flat.”

Jenna opened the driver’s door and checked each one of Daisy’s tires. “I didn’t hear anything. Are you sure?”

“Looks like Flint’s back,” Cooper said, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the fender. He looked way too pleased with himself.

She whirled around to watch the truck turn into the long ranch drive. Turning back to Cooper, she blessed him with a string of creative phrases, then accused, “You saw him coming.”

“Somebody had to save you from yourself.” When she jerked open Daisy’s door, he touched her shoulder to stop her. “I think you should at least talk to the man.”

Her throat tightened, and unshed tears burned her eyes. “I don’t know if I can.”

Cooper shrugged as Flint stopped the truck a few feet from where they stood. “What have you got to lose?”

“Pride, dignity, self-respect—”

Flint walked up to them, planted his feet and folded his arms across his chest. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

Jenna brought her chin up at his imperious tone. “My job here is finished. It’s time I move on.”

He shook his head. “We still have a few matters to clear up. I haven’t been shown that the work you’ve done with Satin is to my satisfaction.”

“You know it is. You watched me put him through his paces the other night.”

“Cooper, can you drive her truck up to the house?” Flint asked, taking her by the arm to lead her to his own truck.

Cooper’s grin broke through. “No problem.”

“Get in, Jenna,” he ordered.

“No.”

“If that’s the way you want it, darlin’, that’s the way you’ll get it.” Flint picked her up and set her on the bench seat, then slid behind the wheel and started toward the house. “We have things to settle. I haven’t paid you for the ranch work or the training.”

Jenna slid over to the passenger side and hugged the door. “You can mail me a check.”

Flint parked the truck next to the house. “I don’t do business that way.”

“It’s about time you started.”

When they got out, Flint waited for Cooper to park Daisy. “I need to talk to you, too.”

“Cooper, are you just going to stand there and let him order us around?” Jenna demanded.

“Yep.” When she glared at him, Cooper grinned and splayed his hands. “I’m not well enough to kick his butt.”

“You wouldn’t, even if you could.”

Cooper glanced at Flint, then his sister. “Nope.”

Flint led Jenna into the study. “Stay put while I talk to Cooper.”

Closing the door before she could protest, Flint motioned for Cooper to accompany him to the kitchen. “Have you given any thought to what you’ll do now that your rodeo days are over?”

Cooper shook his head. “Not really.”

“Good.” Flint handed Cooper some papers. “I just talked to a friend of mine. He’s looking for a commentator-announcer for his rodeo company. Think you’d be interested?”

“Hell, yes!” His grin wide, Cooper shook Flint’s hand. “Thanks, McCray.”

Flint shrugged. “You’ll have to talk to him, but the job is yours if you want it.” He paused. “I have something else to ask you. Do you have a problem with me marrying your sister?”

Cooper laughed. “No, but I gotta warn you. She’s a handful.”

Relieved the man had no objections, Flint grinned back. “It should make life interesting.”

Whiskers came out of the pantry, his face glowing. “It’s ’bout time you got back.” He pointed a gnarled finger toward the hall. “Now git in there an’ lasso that little filly, ’fore she gets away.”

Why couldn’t he let her leave with at least a modicum of her dignity? Jenna thought as she clenched her fists and paced the floor. She was furious with Flint for forcing the upcoming confrontation.

When she walked by the mantel, she stopped and turned back. Something wasn’t right. Something was missing. Before she could figure out what it was, Flint walked into the room.

“Miss Adams, please be seated.” Flint walked to the desk and picked up some papers. “We need to discuss the terms of our contract.”

Jenna blinked as she sat down in the chair. “Don’t you think it’s a little late for renegotiations, McCray?”

“No.” Flint sat on the edge of the desk in front of her and held up one of the documents. “I find our contract completely unacceptable.”

“Now, hold it, cowboy. You agreed—”

“I want a new agreement.”

“That contract is legal and binding.” She came to her feet. “You can’t just suddenly decide after the terms have been met, that you want things changed.”

Flint tore the offending document in half. “Yes, I can.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Ripping up your copy means nothing. I still have mine.”

“I want our arrangement to be completely different.”

“How?”

“You merge your training business with my breeding program and train our horses exclusively.”

“And?”

“I’m giving you Black Satin as payment for the training. You’ll live here. The Rocking M will be the home you’ve always wanted, and we’ll share the profits from the merger.” Handing her Satin’s ownership papers, Flint reached out to take her into his arms. He drew her forward for his kiss. When he lifted his head to stare down at her, he finished, “We’ll also share my bed.”

The look in his smoldering brown eyes took her breath. “What are you trying—”

It was then she realized what was missing. Her gaze flew to the mantel. The diamond necklace in the glass dome was gone.

Staring at the empty space, Jenna tried to suppress the hope that began to blossom. The necklace’s absence could mean everything—or nothing.

She turned to face him, her heart pounding like a jack-hammer. “Where’s the necklace, Flint?”

“In a safe deposit box at the bank.”

“Why?”

“Since it belonged to Nicole, I thought Ryan might want it when he gets older.”

Jenna nodded. “I’m sure he will.”

“But I don’t want to talk about that now,” Flint said smiling. “We have more important things to discuss.”

“The merger?”

He nodded. “I want this partnership to state in no uncertain terms what will be expected from both of us.”

“My contract covered all that.”

Flint brushed a strand of hair from her face and placed a kiss on her cheek. “Too many details were left out, darlin’.”

The love she saw in his eyes caused her toes to curl inside her boots. “What…details?”

“For one thing, there were no witnesses to the signing of the first contract. When this document is finalized, I intend to have half of Texas bear witness to the terms we agree on.”

Her heart came to a screeching halt, afraid to believe what he was telling her. “And what would that be?”

Flint grinned. “It’s really quite simple. I’ll promise to stay with you for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live.”

Tears filled Jenna’s eyes as love and happiness filled her heart. “What will I promise?’

His expression rapturous, Flint smiled. “In return, you’ll promise to love, honor and o—”

“Don’t say it, cowboy.”

Flint laughed. “Cherish me?”

Grinning, she nodded. “Do you really mean it?”

He hugged her close. “More than I ever meant anything in my life. Will you marry me, Jenna? Be a mother to Ryan and the children we’ll have together?”

But he still hadn’t said the words she wanted to hear. “Why, Flint? Why do you want me to marry you?”

“Because I can’t live without you.” He kissed her. “You’ve become part of me.”

“And?”

“I love you, Jenna. With every breath I take, I love you.”

He sat her back down in the chair before removing a small velvet box from his jeans pocket. Dropping to one knee in front of her, he opened the box to reveal a diamond-and-sapphire engagement ring. He placed it on her finger, then cupped her face in his hands. “Now will you say yes?”

“Oh, Flint! Yes!” She threw her arms around his neck. Happiness, complete and pure, engulfed her. “I love you, cowboy.”

“And I love you, darlin’.”

Epilogue

Jenna reached down to give Black Satin a reassuring pat. This was it. They’d made it through the preliminary rounds of competition with flying colors and gained an automatic berth in the National Reining Horse Association Futurity finals. Only one ride separated them from the championship.

When she heard their names come across the loud speaker, she took a deep breath. “We’re playing with the big boys now, Satin. Let’s show them what you can do.”

Riding against veterans with more than a quarter of a century of experience under their belts, Jenna walked Satin into the brightly lit show ring, his blue-black coat gleaming. The texture of the ground in the arena was excellent, and she knew early on they were in complete control.

The NRHA pattern called for eight spins, then large and small circles in each direction. The stallion executed them flawlessly, and it appeared his hindquarters dropped from beneath him as he came to a sliding stop. The ride was picture-perfect, and as they left the arena, Jenna knew they’d won the prize.

Passing the box seats, her gaze searched out and found Flint among the spectators giving her and Black Satin a standing ovation. Ryan and Cooper stood beside him, but she barely noticed. Flint’s smile held her captive. All the pride and happiness for the win were there, but more than that, his expression revealed all his love for her.

Later in the hotel room Flint held Jenna close. He ran his finger along the neckband of her turquoise nightshirt. “Darlin’, you know what I like best about your night-shirts?”

“What?” she asked, snuggling against him.

“I love taking them off you.” When he started to do just that, Jenna stopped him.

“Did you notice what this one says?”

He kissed the pulse at the base of her throat. “No.”

“Maybe you should.”

He glanced at the garment. An arrow pointed down to the word Baby Buckaroo.

Jenna reached for his hand to place it on her flat stomach. “You told me one time that T-shirt slogans were based on fact.”

He slipped his hand beneath the hem of the shirt. “Do you have something you’d like to tell me, Mrs. McCray?”

“You know that little getaway we had a couple of months ago at the Circle S shack to celebrate our one-year anniversary?”

He nodded.

“You gave me more that weekend than just a wonderful memory. You gave me a baby. In about seven months you’re going to be a daddy again, Flint.”

Emotion like he’d never known welled up inside. “Ryan is going to be thrilled.”

Jenna nodded. “He’s been asking me when he’s going to get a brother to play with.”

“I wouldn’t mind if he got a little sister,” Flint said, his hand caressing his wife’s warm flesh. “A little girl who looks just like her mother.”

“Boy or girl, this time you won’t be cheated the way you were with Ryan. You’ll be there for everything. We’ll go to childbirth classes—”

“Now hold it, darlin’. I’m not sure—”

“You hold it, cowboy.” She poked his chest with her finger. “This was a joint effort. We got me into this, and we are going to get me out of it. Together.”

Unable to stop grinning, Flint held her gaze and caught her hand in his. “Together, darlin’.” He kissed the finger she’d used to make her point. “Always together.”

ISBN: 978-1-4268-6378-3

THE ROUGH AND READY RANCHER

Copyright © 2001 by Kathie DeNosky

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