Cowboys Down (17 page)

Well, two of them had. No doubt Pete had been told to get Calum away from Jasper, but Calum had no idea why Gunner had wanted to come as well. Pete hadn’t looked happy about it.

“Your father says we can eat on the way back,” Pete said.

What a fucking surprise and that probably accounted for Gunner tagging along. The guy probably wanted to go to the steakhouse in Dawson.

“How about that steakhouse in Dawson?” Gunner asked.

Bingo.
“Fine,” Calum muttered.

He wouldn’t be surprised if Pete manufactured some problem with the vehicle that kept them overnight. An ache gripped Calum’s chest. What was wrong with liking guys better than women? It wasn’t as if he were doing it on purpose. He couldn’t help the way he felt. He wasn’t hurting anyone or offending public decency by holding hands or kissing in public. Calum ground his teeth. Why the fuck couldn’t his father let him be happy?

Pete pulled up abruptly and Calum lurched against his seat belt. He lifted his hat to see they were in the clearing below the site where they usually pitched camp. Course, they told the guests who had to ride here, they were miles out in the middle of nowhere. Not quite. His father wouldn’t risk a guest’s safety by not having a viable road close by.

“Where’d you learn to drive?” Gunner mumbled. “My bones are rattling.”

Pete turned to Calum. “Know what you’re looking for?”

Yeah, a tall dark Englishman with eyes that melt my heart.
“Tracks wider than they are long. Heel pad with four lobes and no claw marks.” Calum exited the Jeep and slammed the door. Hard.

“How long?” Pete asked.

Calum’s jaw twitched. “About three inches.”
Same as your dick.

Pete let Toby out the back and the large hound bounded to the nearest tree to take a leak. Gunner followed to copy Pete’s dog, and Calum swallowed his smile as he turned away. Calum hadn’t brought Bessie. Damn thing would get herself killed if she tried to protect him.

Gunner and Pete picked up rifles.

“Where’s mine?” Calum asked. “I thought you said you’d put it in?”

Pete rolled his eyes. “No. I told you to.”

The fucking liar.

“Not much use anyway,” Gunner said. “If it attacks, you won’t see it coming.”

Calum still wished he had a weapon.

“Calum, you head east and circle round,” Pete ordered. “Gunner, go due north. We’ll meet up at the camp.”

“Shouldn’t we stick together?”Gunner asked. “If Calum doesn’t have—”

“We’ll cover more ground my way.” Pete strode off.

They had maybe an hour before sunset. Plenty of time to find nothing, particularly the more noise they made. Chances were a lion would see or hear them and leave. Gunner was right. A rifle was next to useless, but Calum would have still felt better holding one. He should have put it in the Jeep himself. Christ, he knew Pete hated his guts. Why would the bastard do him any favors?

Calum stamped across the ground. The chances were small of there being a big cat around here, let alone one getting ready to attack. He was convinced this trip was a waste of time. So when he saw what he thought was a paw print, for a brief moment Calum wondered if his father had sent someone out here to make it.

He bent to take a closer look, saw another print and then another before they disappeared in front of a rock where the cat must have jumped. Shit. A prickle of unease skittered up his spine. Calum took out his phone and called Pete.

“I found a set of prints. Less than hundred yards from where we parked.”

“Fresh?”

Not that Calum was an expert but—yeah, they did look fresh. “Think so.”

“Wait there. I’ll call Gunner. Keep your eyes peeled.”

No kidding. But before Calum could turn, he heard a hiss behind him and it wasn’t a snake. He faced the noise. He couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean the cat wasn’t there. Calum’s heart surged up to block his throat and his spine prickled as if he’d backed into a sharp bush. The desire to flee grew alongside his need to piss. The knowledge that running was the wrong thing to do plus the fact that his knees shook were the only things that kept Calum standing where he was.

He risked a quick dip to grab a couple of rocks and then straightened, raised his arms and yelled, “Scat, pussy. Get out of here.”

Calum kept looking round, trying to catch sight of it. Mountain lions usually backed down from confrontation. They liked to approach from above and behind but once their cover was blown, they’d lost their advantage. At least that’s what he’d read. Calum kept yelling and made himself look as big as possible as he reversed in the direction of the Jeep.
Shit, I hope the cat hasn’t circled around behind.
Wrong time to think about that scene in Jurassic Park.

Toby’s barking grew louder. Maybe that was enough to scare the thing into fleeing. Then there was a blur of movement at the periphery of his vision and Calum saw the cat standing no more than ten feet away, its tawny color blending with the rock.
Oh fuck. Don’t run.
How far could they jump? Maybe it was just as well he couldn’t remember. He yelled louder, threw the rocks, missed with both,
crap
, and the cat flashed him a contemptuous look.
Don’t run.
Calum rushed forward, arms out, fists clenched and screamed, “You want to fight, you fucker? If you think I’m going down, you bastard, you’ve another think coming.”

Instead of running, the cat jumped.
Oh shit.
Calum didn’t have time to be frightened, he thrust out his fist and connected with its jaw as a paw swiped at his shoulder. He felt as if he’d thumped a truck and then been run over by it. As Calum tumbled to the ground, the lion on top, he just had time to consider that maybe he wouldn’t survive this encounter before a shot rang out. He could swear the bullet parted his hair.
Jesus.
The mountain lion bounded away and Toby jumped over Calum to dash after it.

“Toby, get back here!” Pete shouted and then turned to Calum. “You okay?”

“What the hell were you aiming at?” Gunner gasped from the other side of the clearing.

Calum levered himself upright and stood.

“Are you okay?” Gunner asked. “Jesus, Calum. You thumped it.”

“I’m fine. Don’t fuss.” Except his knees were still shaking and the contents of his stomach were trying to emulate Houdini. He glowered at Pete. “You nearly shot me.”

“But I didn’t.”

“There’s no need to look so fucking disappointed,” Calum snapped.

Pete stepped right into his face. “Don’t be such a dickwad.”

“Cut it out.” Gunner nodded toward Calum’s shoulder.

Calum tugged at his shirt to find the material ripped and wet. He felt pain then when he hadn’t before, but the claw marks were little more than deep scratches.

“Up to date on tetanus?” Gunner asked.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s get back to the Jeep,” Gunner said. “I’ll clean that up.”

Calum fell into step beside him, wondering if the cat was watching.

“I’ll bring a couple wranglers out here tomorrow morning and look for it,” Pete said. “Means a change of venue for the campsite.”

“Reckon Black Ridge will do?” Gunner asked.

It lay on the other side of the Neilson spread.

“Yep.” Pete strode on ahead, Toby at his heels.

“You did well there,” Gunner said. “Remembered not to run or curl up in a ball.”

“I was too scared.”

“Like hell you were. You did exactly the right thing. Pete did the wrong thing in splitting us up, particularly when you had no rifle. We should have walked the circle together. Thin line between everything being okay and you ending up as cat food.”

Oh Christ.

“Feel that bullet whizz past your head?” Gunner whispered.

“Yep.”

Gunner caught his arm. “Watch your step with Pete.” He kept his voice low.

Back at the Jeep, Calum stripped off his shirt and winced. There were three long scratches on the front of his shoulder. He was really lucky they weren’t deep. He must have shoved the cat back when he’d thumped it, only a fraction, but enough to reduce the impact of the claws.

Gunner held Calum’s bunched-up shirt under the wounds and poured water over them. Calum gritted his teeth.

By the time Gunner had cleaned him up and slapped a dressing on, Calum ached from head to foot. At least they could go back to the ranch now. They wouldn’t let him in a restaurant without a shirt.

“There’s a shirt in the back you can wear,” Pete said.

Shit.

“I’m not missing out on ribs because you got sideswiped by a lion.” Pete grinned.

“We might even get a free meal out of it,” Gunner said.

Jasper missed the evening meal again, but this time by design. He just couldn’t face everyone, particularly if the word had spread that he was a sexual predator. Vera might be on his side, but Erik wanted to think the worst and Jasper had yet to hear from Calum. While he waited and hoped, he answered emails, sent instructions to a colleague regarding a couple of clients, read a boring report about the markets and eventually Googled laminitis and found an article on a treatment using stem cells. He wasn’t supposed to be interested in stuff like that anymore, but Jasper couldn’t turn off the tap.

Pulled out of his room by hunger, he bypassed the lounge and headed for the kitchen. Relieved to find it empty, he opened the fridge and hesitated when he saw the sandwich and bottle of water. Made for him, no doubt, but after the last sandwich he wasn’t sure if he wanted to risk eating it.

“What are you doing?”

Jasper turned to find Ring scowling at him.

“Getting a sandwich.” Jasper grabbed it and the water and closed the fridge door.

“Think people were going to call you names at dinner?” the wrangler snarled.

“What? Like hero?”

“More like pedo.”

“Fuckwit,” Jasper muttered.

Ring clenched his fists and Jasper smiled. “Go on. Hit me. I dare you. I’ll slap you with a lawsuit.”

Jasper hoped he sounded braver than he felt.

“You won’t be smiling soon,” Ring sneered.

He walked off and Jasper went back to his room to slump on the bed. Why wouldn’t he be smiling soon? Had that been just a throwaway line or did it mean something?

Jasper’s stomach rumbled. He unwrapped the sandwich and as he was about to bite into it, realized what he was doing and opened it up to look inside. Beef, lettuce, pickle, tomato and mayonnaise. It looked okay and smelt fine, but Jasper only ate half.

Ten minutes later, he was vomiting into the toilet. Oh Christ. Angie was deliberately trying to make him ill. Or force him to leave. Jasper let out a choked groan. Though it didn’t have to be Angie.
Fucking Ring?

He crawled across the bathroom floor and sat leaning against the wall clutching his stomach. This was shaping up to be the craziest day ever. And it wasn’t over yet. Once his heart slowed and his breathing eased, Jasper pushed himself up. He cleaned his teeth and drank water from the tap. The seal on the bottle appeared intact but he wasn’t going to risk it. He dropped the rest of the sandwich in the waste bin and lay on his bed.

Was it crazy to think someone was trying to poison him? More likely to be an accident, some contaminated food. The mayonnaise? Should he tell Vera? Maybe Angie didn’t realize she was using something that had gone off. Perversely, if others had been sick too, Jasper would feel better. One half of his head told him to say nothing, the other half persuaded him Vera ought to know.

Jasper smartened himself up before he left his room. He found everyone sitting in the lounge. All the furniture was large and looked comfortable, a mismatch of sofas and chairs with lots of cushions. They’d gathered to watch an elderly guy and a young woman, both dressed in Native American clothing, make arrows and thread beads.

There was no sign of Calum. Angie sat at a table sorting different colored feathers with Vera close by. Jasper waited for an opportunity to catch Vera on her own and then wasn’t sure how to start the conversation.

“I wondered…um…the sandwich left in the fridge.” A sudden thought struck him. “It was for me?”

“Yes.”

“Did Angie make it?”

Vera frowned. “Yes. Why?”

Jasper lowered his voice. “I just ate half of it and it made me sick. It’s happened before.”

He could almost see Vera prickle.

“Something you’re allergic to?” she asked.

“Not that I’m aware of. I wondered…”

“What?” she snapped.

Jasper changed his mind. Vera had been on his side and he was about to lose her as an ally. “Doesn’t matter. Probably me. Jet lag.”
Christ, if I blame anything else on jet lag, I’ll never fly again.

Vera gave him a steely glare. “If you have a problem with the sandwiches my daughter made, I suggest you make more effort to dine with everyone else.”

“Of course, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

He looked up at the sudden lull in the buzz of conversation. Calum strolled in with Pete and Gunner. Jasper heard the sigh escape from his mouth and clamped his lips together. One glance from Calum and Jasper’s ears burned. He forced himself to look away before his cock began to behave badly.