Masked Cowboy (Men of the White Sandy) (8 page)

All of Mary Beth’s bitchiness disappeared in a heartbeat. “What happened?”

Tim laid it all out for her—the
someone
who’d lost his horses and seen strange activities in some distant field, the food poisoning at the church picnic, the massive infections the new doctor had only just managed to stop.

For the first time since she’d shown up in Faith Ridge, Mary Beth didn’t say anything. She just listened, her eyes fixed on Tim and the slip of paper.

“So if I see any signs of contagion, you want me to collect samples and…what? Save them for the authorities or give them to you?”

“Jacob will hold onto them until I can get here.”

At this, Mary Beth almost—but not quite—rolled her eyes. “I can assure you, I can keep stool samples and blood work just as safe as the next ranch manager.”

Tim leveled a lawman’s stare at her, but she didn’t crack.

“I trust her,” Jacob said, more to her than to Tim.

Whatever he’d said or done to piss her off earlier disappeared in the heat of the gaze she turned his way. He almost felt like he was back at Ronny’s, watching her watch him put on a show. That hint of a blush—that was anything but professional.

Tim cleared his throat, breaking the moment. “We don’t know who’s behind this or what really happened,” he went on in an extremely diplomatic tone. “The area where the slaughter could have occurred is something of a no-man’s land. It could be any rancher between here and Rapid City.”

Mary Beth arched up one eyebrow. Diplomacy or not, she understood exactly what Tim was saying. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye open at any of the ranches I visit.”

Tim tipped his hat. “Dr. Hofstetter.”

The three of them managed to get out of the office without stepping on toes. For a second, Jacob thought she was going to wait Tim out, but then she climbed back into her truck. Would she go home and shower? Would he see her at the show?

Would he get back to having a good day?

God, he hoped so.

“So that’s the new vet,” Tim said, his Lakota accent ten times stronger.

Jacob tried not to bristle at the good—and probably harmless—humor in Tim’s voice. “Yup.”

Tim gave him a sideways look. “Don’t imagine she gets along that well with Buck.”

Had Tim heard about the confrontation at the restaurant that night? “Not particularly.”

“Do you really trust her or…” The question was as loud as if Tim had spoken the words.
Or are you just hitting on her
?

Jacob’s first reaction was to go on the defensive. She was a damn fine vet and, as far as he could tell, seemed to like children. At least she was interested in Kip. Besides, their relationship was strictly professional.

But he didn’t say any of that. “Doubt she’d stand by while animals die.” Tim nodded and headed toward his car. “Besides the BIA, will anyone else be asking questions?”

The sheriff paused, one hand on the door. “Nobody else should,” he replied with a slow grin.

Jacob watched the cruiser head down the drive. Damn it.

Nobody was going to come looking for him.

Chapter Five

Sure enough, a few nights later, Jacob was sitting on a rickety lawn chair while Kip changed into her nightshirt inside the trailer when a part of the shadows separated from the trees that surrounded his trailer.

Instinctively, Jacob reached for the Colt .45 he kept in the trailer. He didn’t wear it to the ranch—Buck wouldn’t allow that. But here? Hell, yeah, he was armed.

However, the shadow seemed to materialize into a man before his eyes. Jacob set the gun down on his leg—easy enough to reach, but not in a position where he might accidentally shoot anyone.

A man, all compact muscles and ugly scars, moved toward the side of the trailer—Jacob’s bad side. Jacob hated that. He knew that Nobody Bodine didn’t like to be seen, but if the man was going to go to all the trouble of coming to talk to him, the least he could do was stand where Jacob could see him.

“Tea?” Jacob asked, mindful of the traditions.

Not that Nobody gave a rat’s ass for traditions. “No.” And then, after another moment he added, “Thanks.”

Well, that was something. Nobody didn’t talk much. Even when he showed up at the mustang barn with a horse he wanted to sell or trade, he usually kept things to one word at a time.

“Could you see who it was?”

In response, Nobody moved to Jacob’s good side. He hiked up the sleeve on his right shoulder, revealing a scabbed wound. “Couldn’t get close,” was all he said.

Jacob nodded in appreciation. Collateral damage. Better a shoulder than a face. “Where?”

Nobody didn’t retreat back to the shadows. Instead, he held his ground as Jacob looked at the man. The flesh wound had taken something out of the big man. He looked more drawn than normal, slightly less dangerous. “Clearing, half a mile north of the buffalo valley where the White Sandy bends.”

“I know it.” It was a hell of a long ride out that far, but not impossible. “How many times?”

“Twice. Lost two horses.” Nobody sounded downright depressed by this fact. As far as Jacob knew, Nobody didn’t have anyone except his horses. “Smelled. Buffalo wouldn’t go near it, but there was something there the horses liked.”

Jacob mulled over that information for a bit. Horses weren’t known for their self-preservation, not like buffalo were. “We got a new vet—a good one. If the horses show symptoms again, let me know. She can help.”

Nobody looked pained at this suggestion. Jacob couldn’t decide if it was because of the
she
or because Nobody didn’t rely on anyone for anything. But he nodded all the same.

“She took care of Tahalo,” Jacob offered, knowing that the stallion had been one of Nobody’s favorite horses. So far, Jacob had bought three horses off of Nobody, midnight deals done in the dark. Nobody’s horses kept Jacob’s bloodlines true. Of course, he had no idea where Nobody got his horses. Best not to ask.

“Yeah?”

“She knows her stuff. I trust her.” It had been one thing to say that to Tim in front of her. It had almost felt like he had to prove it to her right then. But now? She wasn’t around to hear him, but he said it anyway.

Just then, the door to the trailer opened and Kip stood there, looking as blank as ever in an old shirt of Jacob’s that she slept in. This was their normal routine—it meant she’d brushed her teeth and was ready for bed—but it appeared to scare the hell out of Nobody. He took two steps back and all but disappeared into the shadows.

This made Jacob nervous. Nobody was the rough sort of man who got shot and stabbed, who’d done time for killing a man—even if it was involuntary manslaughter, it was still killing. He was not the sort of man any sane person wanted around a child, especially a vulnerable girl like Kip. Moving slowly, Jacob put his hand back on his gun. Shooting Nobody wouldn’t stop him, but Jacob would put a hell of a hole in him if he tried something.

Kip lifted her gaze, looking somewhere between Nobody and the setting sun. This was the only time Jacob saw her with her eyes raised—the only time she seemed to be aware of the world around her. Every night, she looked for the sun before it set. She’d always liked the sun.

Nobody paused halfway between being there and not being there. One day, Jacob might figure out if the man actually was a shapeshifter or if he was just that damn good, but it wasn’t going to be today.

“Yours?” Nobody asked, his voice quiet and unexpectedly gentle.

“She is now.”

Jacob could almost feel the worry coming off the big man from several feet away. Finally, he said, “Keep her safe.”

The tenderness with which he said this took Jacob by surprise. He wouldn’t have figured Nobody Bodine for having a soft touch around children. “I will.”

Nobody took another step forward. Even a man like him was curious about an albino Indian. Looking as thoughtful as Jacob had ever seen him—which was to say, less mean than normal—Nobody added, “Does Rebel know about her?”

Rebel Runs Fast? “The medicine man? I don’t know. I don’t go to the rez much.”

As he watched, Kip’s eyes seemed to focus on Nobody’s scarred face. The big man and the small girl stared at each other. Both were creatures apart—not in the tribe, not in the world but just hovering between the two, invisible to everyone else. Could she really see him? Was that a gift she had, something mystical she’d inherited from her grandmother, or was there something else? Damn it, if he only knew what to do about her…

Then Kip dropped her gaze and Nobody stepped farther back into the deepening shadows. “Call the clinic if you need Rebel.” Already, he sounded farther away. Even though Jacob was concentrating all of his effort on watching Nobody, the man still disappeared before his eyes. Maybe he was a shapeshifter after all.

“Will I need him?”

He didn’t get an answer.

“She’s in good shape,” Mary Beth said as she finished palpating the mare.

Jacob had selectively bred one of his two mustang stallions to the hardiest of McGillis’s mares on the ranch and charged McGillis for the stud fee. Although he only got a foal, maybe two, a year, he had created another self-sustaining herd. Jezebel was one of those crosses from about three years ago, and Jacob had told Mary Beth that when she got a bit steadier, he’d cross her with Tahalo down the road.

Again, Mary Beth found herself marveling at how much planning went into everything Jacob did on both sides of the fence line. Nothing was accidental. She wondered if Jacob even knew what the phrase “by the seat of your pants” meant. She had the distinct feeling that if anything ever went off script, he might just flip out, although she had no idea what that would look like.

But somehow, she managed not to say this to him, or even to Robin. The trick was to stay focused on the animals. “She’s got another seven months.”

“Good, good,” Jacob replied, grinning as she stripped the shoulder glove off. “You got time to look at that colt? I don’t like the limp.”

“Go get him,” she replied as she returned his smile. She liked that smile. She liked seeing more of it. After almost a month and a half, he was finally showing hints of his evening playfulness during the day. And in the two weeks since the sheriff had shown up, she hadn’t seen a single thing out of the ordinary.

With a barely perceptible nod of his head, Jacob pivoted and was gone. Mary Beth sighed as she leaned against the munching mare. “Does he like me, or am I imagining things?” she asked.

The mare whinnied at her. “Yeah. Probably imagining things,” she agreed as she began chucking her stuff out of the stall. With a small groan, she hefted the nylon bag over her shoulder and headed out.

And right into the barrel chest of Buck McGillis.

Shit
, she thought as he took a step forward, forcing her to take a step back into the stall. But her mouth covered for her. “Mr. McGillis! Haven’t seen you much in the barn!”

“Why, hello, Dr. Pretty Little Thing.” His gaze slid down her chest. “You’re as good a reason as any to come out and check on my investments,” he said, drawing the last word out as he reached out to touch her arm.

Jesus, where is Jacob when I need him
? She tried to slip past his barrel chest. “Mr. McGillis,” she cautiously cooed, but she wasn’t fast enough. He latched his fingers on to her biceps, refusing to let go even as Mary Beth practically dragged him into the middle of the aisle.

“I’m still waiting on our dinner,” he drawled, dragging her back toward his chest. “It’s time for you and me to get…together.”

“Mr. McGillis,” she replied, trying to keep the panic out of her voice as she wondered how she could pull her knife on him if he had that arm, “it’s against clinic policy to be involved with clients. I have to decline.”

“I don’t take no for an answer, Dr. Pretty Little Thing.” His smile could be something friendly, except for the hard edge to his eyes that grew harder as she tried to pull away from his iron grip. With his other hand, he took her bag off her shoulder and dropped it in the aisle in a quick movement before he grabbed her other arm and pinned them to her sides.

Don’t beg. He wants you to beg
. That’s what Skeevy Greevy had wanted—to put the pain in his ass firmly in her place. Mary Beth had come too close to convincing Greevy’s meal ticket—her mother—to leave him. That she’d been a pretty teenager hadn’t hurt, but it’d never been about lust. Just power. No one said no to Skeevy Greevy.

She felt the same fear that had nearly paralyzed her thirteen years ago as Buck’s grin turned mean. Not about lust. Just proving that he had the power here. Mary Beth’s hand scrabbled for the knife in the sheath, even though she knew she couldn’t get it drawn.

“Knives? Please, Dr. Pretty Little Thing. Let’s try to keep this civil.”

The condescension—that’s what pushed her past the fear. By God, she would not just stand here and let a man
use
her. That’s not who she was. He had her arms pinned? So what. That left her legs free and clear.

At the exact moment she drove her knee up, Jacob yelled, “Watch out!” A horse burst between them, knocking Mary Beth free from McGillis’s terrifying grip and into a stall door. She bounced right onto her butt in the middle of the aisle, a small cloud of hay dust floating around her as Buck began cussing at the top of his lungs. She had no idea if she’d managed to crush his nuts or not, but the effect was the same. She was free of him.