Her Unforgettable Cowboy

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Rowdy, Morgan’s younger brother, ran the ranch’s cattle operation and they were sorting the steers for the mugging together. “My boots almost had blowouts when Dad told me what he’d done.”

“You think you had a blowout,” Morgan growled.

Rowdy, who always looked as if he was ready for a good time, with lips that turned up at the edges and eyes shot with mischief, looked as concerned as Morgan had ever seen him. “So how did it go? The boys about talked my ear off at lunch. They’re impressed, just in case you didn’t know that.”

“Thanks, I picked up on that all by myself when their jaws started dragging in the dirt. And Wes and Joseph started showing off their muscles.”

Rowdy’s lips twitched. “Should make for a good show tonight. But how are you?”

Morgan rested a boot on the bottom rung of the arena and studied the steers closely. “How do you think? I don’t have a choice but to deal with it.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.” Rowdy hiked a shoulder. “You don’t date, Morg. You act like you’re married to the school. You have unfinished business and it’s time to finish it, one way or the other.”

Morgan grunted and kept his mouth shut.

“Would you look at that?” Rowdy whistled over the bellowing of cattle. “Pest is lookin’ good.”

Morgan turned to see Jolie hopping from her Jeep.

“Yeah,” he snapped. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

Rowdy chuckled, crossed his arms and leaned back against the corral to watch Jolie. Morgan shot him a glare, not fond of that glint in his brother’s eyes.

“I thought you said you were all right,” Rowdy said.

“I’m not in the mood, Rowdy.”

“Touché. Don’t get me wrong, I’m on your side. You got a real raw deal, but maybe that was all she had to give you at the time. Like I said, this could be a good thing.”

“Maybe I don’t want to discuss this right now.”

Rowdy chuckled. “Like I said, touché. Got to go get myself a hug.” Pushing off the fence, he strode toward Jolie, who had stopped to talk to their dad. Tucker, the eldest of the McDermott boys, was the county sheriff. He’d been talking with Nana, and now they all headed Jolie’s way.

Morgan scrubbed his scratchy jaw—it had been a long night delivering a new foal, he hadn’t had much sleep and this morning he’d missed church. He was not in the mood for this.

“Hey, pest,” Rowdy drawled, using his pet name for Jolie. “You’re looking good, but a little on the thin side. You not eating out there, making all that money having your picture taken in that yellow banana of yours?”

“Rowdy!” Jolie exclaimed. Rowdy laid an arm across her shoulders and hugged her as if she was his long-lost friend.

“Jolie.” Tucker greeted her with a hug, too.

Morgan almost got lockjaw, grinding his molars watching, his dad grinning as though he’d just reunited the family.

Ten thousand acres of West Texas ranch lands suddenly didn’t feel big enough. This “reunion” was enough to make a man ride off into the sunset and never look back.

“Hey, Morgan.” Chet, one of the top hands, called from the cattle pens on the far side of the barn. “Got a sec?”

A couple of years younger than he was, Chet had grown up on the ranch as a foster kid and had stayed on. Like the other fifteen cowboys who worked for the ranch, he knew Morgan’s history with Jolie...and Celia. There had been no teasing so far, and that fact alone told him they all thought he was on shaky ground now that Jolie was back.

It was embarrassing.

“I hear you fainted yesterday,” his dad said as Morgan hit the fast track across the corral toward Chet.

He’d had Jolie’s fainting spell on his mind since it had happened. Something was up with her, and he figured the last place she needed to be was running up and down this arena trying to throw a yearling on its back with her bare hands. Of course she lived in a world where she took her life in her hands every time she got into that kayak of hers and plowed through raging white water and over ridiculous waterfalls that weren’t meant for humans to fall over, much less charge over on purpose.

And to think he’d been the one to introduce her to it. Little had he known she would fall for it and become one of the best. When he’d taken her kayaking as a kid, it had been slow, easy river runs, nothing life-threatening—

He stopped his thoughts in their tracks.

Jolie wasn’t his concern anymore—hadn’t been since the day she’d walked away, choosing kayaking over him.

“What’s up?” he growled, reaching Chet.

Nudging his Stetson off his forehead, Chet met Morgan’s look with frank brown eyes. “Thought the love and admiration was about to start piling up knee-deep to a giraffe over there,” he drawled sarcastically, then pointed at one of the steers. “This ’un here’s got a bad leg. Thought you’d want to pull it from the event.”

That was no-nonsense Chet. Said what he wanted and moved on. Morgan almost grinned. Chet wasn’t one to get in another person’s business—giving him his support by saying what he just had meant a lot to Morgan.

Morgan studied the limping steer. “Yeah, take him out.”

“Will do, boss.” Chet nodded to one of the other cowboys working the gate to open it up. He and Morgan flanked the steer to send him through the gate, and one of the other cowboys herded him toward a separate pen.

“Time to get ready for some fun.”

Chet nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

Watching him head off to gather the men, Morgan knew Chet had his back. That was more than he could say about his own family. Although maybe his brothers’ affection for Jolie could come in handy. She might not want to tell him about the fainting episode, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t tell Rowdy or Tucker. Regardless, Morgan was determined to find out what was going on, whether Jolie wanted him to or not.

Chapter Five

The familiar scent of dirt and cattle filled the air as Jolie tried hard not to watch Morgan. It was an almost-impossible feat—the man had gotten only better-looking in the past six years. His black hair curled out from under his hat, just whispering against his blue button-down. The color made his eyes look darker than ever. And he was in his element as he strode back and forth inside the arena with Rowdy and the other cowboys getting everything set up for the mugging.

“I got trampled by a cow one time. That’s why I’m afraid to go out there,” Sammy was saying to Jolie. He’d been shadowing her since she’d arrived at the arena. Something about the kid spoke to her, and she wondered why he’d gravitated toward her. She couldn’t help thinking that it was the fear eating him up that had drawn him to her. Maybe on a subconscious level he recognized a kindred spirit of sorts.

Because she had fear eating her up, too.

And it irritated the dickens out of her. So much so that despite almost no sleep, she’d dragged herself out of bed and made it to church on just one cup of coffee. Her night had been awful, to say the least—just plain terrible.

It had started with thoughts of Morgan—specifically, the feel of his arms around her and the beat of his heart in her ear. Those sensations kept her awake half the night. When she’d finally fallen asleep, the nightmares arrived. Why, oh, why had she thought coming home would help ease them?

They hadn’t eased one iota.

Instead, they’d come as hard as ever, if not more so. Always the same, she was trapped in a raging vortex, upside down and fighting to make it to the surface. Always ensnared and struggling for her life.

Somewhere in the wee hours of the morning she’d given up trying to sleep and lay covered in sweat, tangled in sheets and worn-out. In the month since the accident, this had become the norm. Usually she turned to her Bible, searching for comfort and peace. Even though peace had been elusive, she knew God and only God had brought her up out of that watery grave.

A person would think that if she knew God had yanked her out of that murky water, there would be no reason to be full of fear from her toes to her roots—but she was. And she didn’t know what to do about it.

“You’re scared?” According to Morgan, Sammy was prone to exaggerations so she wasn’t sure what to make of his remark about being trampled, but she certainly recognized fear when she saw it. And it was like a flashing red beacon in his eyes.

He nodded. “Scared bad.”

“That’s totally understandable. Did the cow hurt you very badly?”

His gaze slid left, then back toward the four-foot-tall steers. “Broke my leg. My dad, he took real good care of me, though. And my mom.” He paused, gulping. “She cried, it scared her so bad.” He sighed wistfully. “They loved me so much they hated to see it happen.”

Heart slam!—Jolie was suddenly desperately grateful for her parents’ love and affection. She wanted to hug the child close—and at the same time do bodily harm to his parents for giving him up.

“I’m sure they did.” Jolie wondered if he even realized he’d said “loved” in the past tense. “You remember that anytime you need to talk about them, or anything that scares you, you can come to me. If you want to,” she added.

A half smile appeared that was one day going to make female hearts stop.

What a cute kid. And what a tough road he’d traveled. As had most of these boys.

A steer broke from the pack at the end of the arena and ran full tilt down the inside of the fence right in front of them.

Sammy’s head swung fast as he followed the black blur. Then immediately he turned back to her. “Are you really going to get out there?” he asked, his brows bunched in concern.

Jolie bit back a laugh. After all she’d faced in her kayak, a few half-pint cows didn’t scare her. Not that she’d dare tell Sammy that.

“You bet I’m getting out there!” she exclaimed. “It’s fun. If you learn how to do it right, even small people can flip a steer.” He didn’t look convinced at all. “You can do it, Sammy. It’s all in the technique.”

“We’re going in two groups,” Morgan called. Joseph clamored over the rail and jumped from the top rung to the ground. Instantly five more boys bailed over the rails and sauntered to join Joseph.

Jolie sure hoped she still had it—she hadn’t run around an arena after a steer in years. It hit her that if she hoped to get Sammy to participate at all today, she needed to go in the first group and lead by example. She climbed the fence and dropped to the ground on the other side.

“No!” Sammy yelped, grabbing hold of her shirt sleeve through the railing as if he feared he would never see her again. “Please don’t go,” he implored her.

“It’s going to be all right, Sammy. I promise. You’ll see, sugar,” she urged.

Adrenaline was flowing through her, a feeling she relished. She gave Sammy’s hand one last reassuring pat, then pulled away. She had never let fear hold her back—until the accident. But today, there was nothing inside the arena that remotely frightened her.

Matter of fact, she felt more alive than she had in a long time. Pure fun was what she called this.

It had been too long.

With big, goofy grins, the boys were whooping and waving her over. She jogged their way, smiling.

“Count me in on this one,” she called to Morgan. She rubbed her hands together, joining the boys behind the line that had been drawn in the dirt. Mentally she went over the names of the boys in the group—Joseph, Wes, Tony, Caleb and Micah, who was sixteen with rusty-brown hair, a lean face and eyes the color of well-washed jeans. They were all grinning from ear to ear as they looked at her.

Jolie clapped Caleb, the youngest, on the shoulder. “Hey, aren’t you Mr. Braveheart,” she teased, and his grin widened to touch his ears.

She was just starting to enjoy herself when she looked at Morgan. The man’s scowl told her he wasn’t happy with her at all.

So what else is new?

“You sure you want to do this? It’s been a long time, and yester—”

Jolie cut him off. “I’m fine, and I’m sure. Let’s get this muggin’ goin’!”

“If she can ride those rapids, I bet she can mug a puny five-hundred-pound steer.” Joseph grinned and spat a sunflower seed husk to the ground.

“Why, thank ya, Joseph,” she quipped, gloating a little at Morgan.

He frowned at the teen. “Maybe you need to tend to your own business.”

Joseph chuckled. “You sure been ornery the last few days, Morg.”

“Yeah,” Wes agreed. “Real grumpy.”

Morgan’s scowl deepened. “May I have a word with you?” he asked through bared teeth. Wrapping his hand around her biceps, he started walking her away from the group.

Once they were a good distance away from everyone he let go of her arm, leaving her skin tingling from his touch. She felt a rush of disappointment but wasn’t sure if she was disappointed that she’d felt a tingle or that he’d removed his hand.

“I can do this if I want to, Morgan McDermott.” Here was one of the problems that had prompted her to pack her bags six years ago—the man was pushy.

“You passed out yesterday. That’s not like you. I’ve thought about it all night and I’ve decided that there must be something wrong. You going to tell me what that something is?”

I’ve thought about it all night. He’d had her on his mind—the knowledge sent a shaft of joy straight to her heart. She continued to glare at him, though, because she’d never liked his bossing her around. It was all coming back to her now. Once he’d put his ring on her finger, he’d started trying to dictate her life—tried to wrap her up and keep her safe. It was out of concern, but she was not a china doll and refused to be treated as one.

Even if she felt broken right now.

“I did not pass out. I got a little faint is all.”

“You would have hit the floor like a rock if I hadn’t caught you.”

“Maybe, but—”

“Jolie, I’m not kidding. You come back here after all this time, and you aren’t kayaking. You nearly died—yeah, I know you didn’t elaborate on that, but Nana is my grandmother, so I’m informed. I know what a close call you had. I’m not blind and I’m not stupid, Jolie. There is something wrong with you and I want to know what it is.”

The man was impossible. “It’s none of your business.”

He loomed over her, his scent filling her senses. “I’m responsible for everyone out here and if you have some kind of condition, I need to know about it. You were hired on to this ranch without my say-so, but guess what? That makes you my business, especially if whatever’s going on affects your job.”

So his interest in what was wrong with her was because she worked for him. There was nothing personal about it. Nevertheless, she caved under that blue-eyed stare, blurting out, “I’m having trouble sleeping ever since the accident. I’m having a few nightmares.”

“Nightmares,” he repeated, clearly startled. Then his expression softened. “I guess that’s understandable after what you went through.”

Jolie suddenly wanted to tell him more, but was aware that all eyes were watching them as they stood practically nose to nose. This wasn’t the time or the place. And now that she thought about it, she didn’t want sympathy from him.

“I’m dealing with it,” she huffed, “which is why I’m taking some time off. Now, can we get this done?” she asked.

“Fine, do it,” he snapped. “Only, and I mean only, if you’re sure you won’t be passing out and getting trampled.”