Cowboy on the Run (3 page)

She whirled around, surveying her land, then back to the unmoving carcass. The steer would have sold high at the fair. An unsettling ball of guilt burned her stomach, and she berated herself, ashamed her thoughts had drifted toward monetary gain. Or if this continued, possible financial ruin.

It wasn’t just about the money. A life had been taken. Sighing, she said a quiet prayer. Living on the farm had made her somewhat callous to seeing an animal slain. Although, slaughtering animals for food on the table was different. This was just so...unnecessary. A blatant disrespect for a living creature.

The hair stood on her neck as she sensed she was no longer alone. The feeling pulled at her as she squinted against the light of the early morning sun, scanning the field.
Nothing
. She shook her head, only endless pasture, and a dead steer. Jessie glanced back down at the corpse, giving herself a break. Was it any wonder she was a little freaked out?

Unable to shake the sensation of being watched, Jessie made her way to Lilly. A little vulnerable, she stroked the cold steel of her rifle, her gaze exploring the open field.

She refused to be scared off her own land. The thought echoed in her head as she mounted her horse, intent on searching every inch of the Calhoun land before returning home to tell her foreman, William, about the newest casualty.

Ten minutes into their quest, Lilly became agitated again, ears pricked and the steady swishing of her long tail alerting Jessie something wasn’t right. The eerie, cold chill returned, sweeping through her as she tried to soothe the animal. The horse snorted in response, warning her of an intruder in the distance.

Jessie pulled on the reins to stop their slow canter and saw the dark outline of a man along her property line. She unfastened her rifle, placing the weapon in silent warning across her lap. Her finger lingered on the biting steel of the trigger as her mind raced, and she went over her options. She still had time to return home for help, but by then, another steer could be slaughtered.

She couldn’t afford to lose even one more, not now, not when she was so close. The future of the Calhoun ranch depended on her success at the fair this year, and every one of her cows counted.

The murderer will have to kill me first
, she thought as pride got the best of her. She’d be damned if she lost another of her precious stock.

Urging Lilly into a full gallop, Jessie slowed down when she neared the fence. Raising the rifle, she took careful aim, determined to blow a hole through the man if necessary.

“This is private property,” she said sternly, but still the man refused to look up, his focus remaining on the barbed wire fence.

“I suggest you think twice before trying to get on it.” The steady warning came out sharp and uncivilized, not quite as shaky as she felt inside. “Again,” she added, cocking the gun to exclaim her point.

The noise was loud enough to get his attention, and the man lifted his head, showcasing a pair of angry blue eyes.
Nate.
His expression irritated and hard.
This
was the man she remembered.

“Last I heard, this side of the fence line is private property, too.”

Nate’s stare sliced through her, daring her to object. He went back to his work, driving the head of the hammer down on a resistant nail. The severe impact, steel against iron, emphasized his words as he pounded the nail into submission. He slammed the tool down once more before glaring at her again.

“
My
property. And put that damn rifle down, unless you intend to use it.”

His words taunted her. Like a defiant child, Jessie held onto the rifle just to spite him. After several minutes, she fastened the gun back into place along Lilly’s saddle bag, and then spared a heated glance in his direction.
He certainly has a lot of nerve
.

It was then she noticed he was repairing, not destroying, the fence.

A slick sheen of perspiration covered his bronze, shirtless torso, and she caught herself admiring the flexing of his muscles as he hammered in another nail. The fact he hadn’t changed a bit in the years he’d been gone only annoyed her more.

He was still drop-dead gorgeous with his trademark locks of dark, wavy hair and tall, lanky build. Two irritating and appealing qualities she added to her long list of reasons she should hate him.

It wasn’t enough he haunted her dreams all of last night, leaving her frustrated by the memory of his kiss, of his skin against hers. But now, he flaunted himself, his bare torso rekindling the vivid fantasies.

It was too much. She forced herself to glance away in order to slow the erratic beating of her heart. Irked, she slid off her horse and released the reins, allowing Lilly the freedom to graze. “What are you doing?”

He ignored her to thread the barb wire until it was pulled tight against the post before hammering the barrier into place. When he finished, Nate tilted his head up.

Even though his chiseled good looks were hidden beneath the brim of his hat, she could feel the intensity of his gaze, his piercing blue eyes. The burn of his stare seared the length of her as he reacquainted himself with every inch of her body.

Her temperature rose in rapid response as if she had gotten too close to a flame. She told herself it was a natural reaction because he was so near again, or maybe it was just anger starting to boil inside her.

Jessie’s thoughts spiraled, coming up with several other reasons why her skin sizzled as if she were on fire, all in an attempt to deny any possibility the attraction was still there. The sight of him was a decadent temptation, and she ignored the spike of desire the thought caused, gathering control of herself before the rage of sexual frustration had a chance to set in.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he snarled, driving another nail into the wooden post. “I’m repairing the fence so fifty cattle don’t end up in my front yard.”

The shortness of his response reflected the same annoyance she felt. Perhaps, she had gotten under his skin as much as he had gotten under hers?

“A hundred,” Jessie replied smugly, crossing her arms over her chest. The image of the third dead steer appeared, accompanied by a surge of helpless frustration. Seven days ago it had been a hundred.

“At last count, I had a hundred head of cattle.” Animosity replaced the frustration, and her thoughts escaped into words dripping with venom.

Nate glanced up, tipping his hat back and cocking one eyebrow. “A hundred, huh?” he repeated, appearing impressed by the number. “Not bad, Jess,” he admitted, working the wire.

The slight bit of admiration was both flattering and insulting at the same time. The old anger and hurt resurfaced. She deserved his respect, had earned at least that much from him, but she
did not
need his approval.

She’d worked her butt off since taking over the ranch from her dad, and now had a large herd of steers to show for all of the hard work. Her plan was to auction most off to the highest bidder at the local fair in August, and keep the youngest of her stock through the winter.

It had been a tough go of it for several years, but last year had shown a slight profit. She’d been very successful selling almost half her stock. Even if the profit barely covered her mortgage on the farm and the cost to keep her family and animals fed, it was still a victory.

Despite the little amount of proceeds, and the fact she had to change her part time position at Ed’s bar into full time, she still triumphed over the small achievement. Her hard work had paid off.

Jessie hoped this year would prove different considering she had doubled her stock to sell. Although, it would be difficult with her piling bills and the inflating cost of raising cattle. The uncertainty began to crowd her thoughts, making her doubt herself, and the last thing she needed from Nate Walker was approval—seven years too late.

“No, it’s not bad,” she snapped, watching as he reached for a pair of pliers and stretched the last string of barbed wire tautly to hammer it in. “In fact, its damn good.”

Nate raised his head. Their gazes locked in a stubborn battle of wills. The blue steel challenged her, but she refused to back down.

“I’ll bet this is just killing you, isn’t it, Nate? You didn’t think I could succeed without you, did you? Did you think I would just crawl in a hole and die? Well, I didn’t.”

Anger flushed through her veins with a rapid vengeance. She couldn’t control the urge to hurt him as he had her. “And killing my steers? A low blow. Really low, even for you,” she spat in fury, not sure why she accused him of such a horrible act.

Jessie turned toward her horse. The man she used to know would never have killed a defenseless animal, much less hurt one, although at the moment, their history didn’t matter. That was the old Nate Walker, the man who hurt her, and broke her heart. She didn’t know this stranger. He could be capable of anything.

She pulled at Lilly’s reins, then jumped on her horse’s back, vexing one last glance in his direction. “Stay off my land. Stay away from my cattle. And stay away from
me
,” she shouted over her shoulder.

Drawing Lilly into a full gallop, she gave into the anger as it fueled her ride back to the ranch.

Chapter 3

“Another one?”

William stopped her as he removed his hat, wiping the sweat of his brow with the back of his sleeve. Jessie turned away, closing her eyes to shut out the worry she saw in her oldest friend’s stare.

She wanted nothing more than to escape from the barn, avoiding any further eye contact with the man who had known her since the day she was born. Instead, she nodded, swallowing back useless tears of exasperation, refusing to disclose the other thorn in her side—her brief encounter with Nate.

“Yeah, another one... I found it on the east side of the property.”
The Walker land.
Without success, she attempted to blink away the image of Nate at the fence. “Slaughtered, same as the other two.”

“It’s okay, baby girl. I’ll take care of it.”

Jessie fell into the older man’s arms, welcoming the foreman’s compassionate hug. Before his stroke, her dad would have been the one to tell her everything would be all right, followed by a heartfelt embrace.

Now, she wouldn’t allow herself to talk to him about such matters, too worried it would cause him more stress than his fragile heart could take. Over the last few years, she had turned to William not only for advice with the ranch, but for paternal comfort.

“It’s not an animal killing them,” she said into his chest. He smelled of horses and hay. Of home.

“No, it’s not,” he returned, agreeing with her.

It dawned on her the foreman would’ve already known this, being around animals all of his life. She pulled away. “You knew and didn’t say anything?”

He gave a reluctant nod, and led Lilly to her stable, removing the heavy, leather saddle.

“When?” She searched his face for answers as he placed the seat on top of the stable’s rail, then removed the wool blanket covering the horse’s back. For a man well into his sixties, he was still as strong as an ox.

“After the first one, I called Sheriff Davis out and filed a report. Jessie, you’ve got a lot on your plate. With your dad’s health and all, we thought it best not to tell you.”

“You thought it best not to tell me?” Her temper took control. “Unbelievable! Someone is killing my steers, and you and Sheriff Davis thought it was best not to tell me? This is
my
ranch. Or did you and the sheriff forget that, too?”

William turned, disappearing through the barn door without another word. Jessie kicked at a bale of hay, holding back a scream of frustration. She’d known better than to start an argument with him anyway. The man had the annoying habit of walking away during a heated disagreement, returning later to discuss the matter after she calmed down.

Maybe it was for the best to let him go. She needed to be alone.

Grabbing her favorite brush, Jessie began grooming Lilly, mindful the brush strokes weren’t as hard as her mood. After a few minutes, her anger started to subside.

William had made the correct decision. In fact, Jessie wouldn’t have accepted anything less from the foreman. The man loved the ranch as much as she did. A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth as she brought her hand down with another stroke. He had been right about other things, too—she was in over her head.

She
should have called the sheriff. Why hadn’t the thought even crossed her mind?

The answer came easy. Ever since her father’s stroke, Jessie had been relentless, throwing herself into the ranch, working her fingers to the bone, doing anything she could do to forget about her father’s health, and worse...Nate. All of which came at a price.

She put the brush on the rail and paused to give Lilly a handful of grain before leaving the barn. As soon as she stepped foot on the front porch, the screen door to the house opened and her father stepped out.

A slow smile formed on his lips and a “Good morning,” escaped out of the right corner of his mouth. The left side remained stationary, as did the entire left side of his body. A token reminder of his stroke.

Jessie kissed him on the cheek, acknowledging the way he tried so hard to hide his weakness. She sat down on the porch swing, patting the wooden slats on the bench in a silent invitation until he sat down beside her.

“Nate is back in town,” she blurted out. Why did everything seem to circle back to Nate? And she hadn’t even been able to control the words. They simply popped out. In fact, just saying his name invited a dangerous image of the man to appear.

“I know,” her dad said. His face remained expressionless as he stared out into the open fields. She waited with baited breath for any more of a response, knowing it would be a long time before her father revealed what he was thinking.

She released the air from her lungs with a loud, exasperated sigh. Of course he knew, for Pete’s sake. He had a front row seat. Besides, Ennis, Montana was a small town, the population less than a couple thousand people. The entire town would have heard by now.