Rebel Heart (2 page)

Trying to yank free, she found that, injured or not, he was strong. His grasp didn’t hurt, but he let her know she would be free only at his say-so, not her own. She glanced at him, but his eyes were closed, a slight smile curling his lips. They were firm and chiseled. For one shocking moment Shannon wondered what they might feel like against her own. Appalled at her thoughts, she skipped another step and concentrated on keeping up with the brisk pace set by the nurse.

The doctor quickly applied plaster to Jase’s arm and, though he tried to keep from hurting his patient, Shannon knew Jase was in pain from the hard grip on her hand and the beads of sweat on his forehead. Yet he never said a word in complaint--keeping up his easy banter, flirting with the nurse, joking with the doctor. Even taking a second to check up on Shannon from time to time.

His forearm was broken in two places, two ribs cracked, and he had a slight bump on his head. The doctor treated each injury efficiently, while keeping up a steady lecture on the foolishness of rodeo riders.

“No riding until the arm’s healed. Check with me before you go trying to kill yourself again,” the doctor grumbled, giving the cowboy a slap on his thigh when his ribs had been wrapped.

“You know, doc, I wasn’t trying to kill myself, just ride the damn horse.”

Shannon shook her head in disgust. That’s what they all said, pretending it wasn’t dangerous. To them it was a sport, never mind the fear and heartache it brought their loved ones. That had been Bobby’s favorite saying,
I’m only trying to ride the horse.

She tried to free her hand but Jase’s fingers tightened slightly and he tilted his head to see her.

“Shannon, here, will take good care of me until I’m ready to compete again, won’t you, darlin’?” he asked, his eyes brimming with some secret amusement.

Did that mean Jase was going to help her out?

She turned to the doctor. “Any special care?”

“No, just no competition until he’s healed. I don’t envy you, young lady. These guys are never easy to deal with.”

She nodded, remembering her own husband and how she’d never understood him, never understood why he’d insisted on performing, competing, flirting with other women. She clamped down once again on the emotions that threatened her. She didn’t have time for them now. She could only go on, wiser now, she hoped.

“Come on, cowboy, let’s get out of here. I'll drop you where you want to go.”

She needed to get back on track, offer him the job and be on her way home. She didn’t like rodeos or hospitals and she’d had more than enough of both today.

Ten minutes later Jase and Shannon stood by her truck in the back parking lot of the hospital. He wore the shirt he’d competed in, torn, dusty, one sleeve gone, very much the worse for wear. It didn’t detract from his masculinity. On the contrary, it seemed to enhance it even more.

Shannon kept her gaze averted, feeling safer that way. All she wanted to do was get back on the road and head for home. She wanted him to come to the Bar Seven with her. She needed someone she could trust. And Bobby had spoken highly of Jase from the first. Would he help her for Bobby’s sake?

“You want to tell me a little more about these pointers you want?” he asked, leaning against the side. He tilted his hat down until it shaded his face, shadowing his eyes. The pristine-white sling looked out of place against the dusty clothes, it seemed insubstantial against the broad chest and shoulders. Shannon hadn’t realized how tall he was until they’d left the hospital. He towered over her own slight frame.

“It’s simple. I want to learn to run the ranch myself. I had a manager, but he snuck out a couple of weeks ago, taking all the ready cash in my account. I’m not going to make that mistake again,” Shannon said firmly. “I want to learn everything so I can run the place myself. I've had to learn the hard way that men can’t be trusted.”

He leaned toward her at that comment.

“Whoa, now, honey. One man steals some money and you come to the conclusion all men aren’t to be trusted?”

“Oh, no, Jase, Rod Thompson wasn’t the only one to hammer home that lesson. Bobby Blackstone started the whole process. Rod only completed it.” She met his eyes, hers flashing.

His hand came up to brush across her cheek, tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “I thought Bobby was your husband.”

“He had trouble remembering that,” she said bitterly.

Bobby hadn’t been able to stay away from women, even after marrying her. She'd been a fool, blinded by love, a mistake she’d never make again. She ducked her head away from his hand.

“Then he was an idiot,” he said in his slow drawl.

Before she could say anything to that startling comment, he continued. “So you want to learn to run a ranch, in exchange for my room and board for a few weeks?”

She nodded.

“Why me?”

“Bobby might not have been the best of husbands, but he seemed to be a good judge of others. He admired you, said you were the best.”

He chuckled. “The doubt in your tone leads me to think you aren’t too sure of his judgment.”

“Well, you have to admit, anyone who would deliberately risk his life day after day riding wild broncs and bulls just for the hell of it might give a rational person a moment of doubt,” she said primly.

He laughed, a rich, contagious laugh that had her smiling reluctantly, sharing the humor.

“It’s wild and free and like nothing else in the world,” he explained.

“Wild and free, like you? Don’t you think about settling down and getting on with your life?” she couldn’t resist asking.

Bobby’d tried. For several months he’d tried, but had not been able to resist the lure of the rodeo circuit. The fast life, fast women and thrills drew him like an addiction. Shannon, who had never understood it, had only, finally, accepted it. Would they still be married and sort of happy had Bobby lived? Would he ever have tired of the challenge?

Stunned by the swiftness of the change in Jase at her comment, she watched helplessly as his eyes grew stormy, his face grew remote and austere. For a second, Shannon felt a brush of fear. What had she said?

“I’ve had enough responsibility to last me a lifetime. Now I’m doing what I want for a while, and that’s rodeoing. If you have a problem with that, maybe I’m not the man you’re looking for.” For a moment, the hard lines of his face were ferocious.

Her heart banged in her chest. She longed to step back, put some distance between them, but she planted her feet, tilted her chin and remained where she was. She'd obviously touched a raw nerve, but she wouldn’t be cowed by the man. She needed him, and fate had provided her something to offer in return, a place for him to recuperate.

“What you do with your life is your own business. But you need to stay somewhere while you heal. I only want your help while you can give it. I'm not asking for a long commitment. Just until you’re healed and ready to move on, why not help me in exchange for room and board?”

“You came to the rodeo today to see me. Do you have second sight? Did you know I was going to take a fall and bust my arm? What were you going to do if I hadn’t had the accident?” He leaned back against the truck again, lines of pain and fatigue bracketing his mouth.

“I planned to ask for a recommendation from you. I know you know ranching, Bobby mentioned it more than once. I thought you might recommend someone honest to help me. When I found out that you were hurt, the other idea came to me. It’s perfect. You’ll have a place to recover, and help me out at the same time.”

He stared down at the pavement for a long moment then nodded. “Yeah, it has a certain appeal. You think you can learn everything that fast? This arm’ll heal in about six weeks, then I’m back on the circuit, with a lot of lost time to make up.”

“I can learn some things in six weeks. It would be a start. Then maybe you can recommend someone else. What have you got to lose? You need a place to stay, don’t you?”

He started to say something, then stopped. Shrugging his shoulders, he winced as the pain tore through his arm and chest. “Yeah, I guess I could use a place to stay. You’ve got yourself a deal, Shannon Blackstone.” His hand reached for hers and he shook it gently. He then turned and opened the door on the passenger side of her truck.

“I need to go back to the arena so I can get my truck and horses.”

Jase tried to ride the bumps in the road as Shannon drove back to the fairgrounds. The doctor had offered some pain meds, but he needed to stay sharp until his horses were taken care of. He didn't know if the bump on the head when he fell was clouding his judgment, or if the decision to help out temporarily was a good one.

He glanced at the woman beside him. He needed to check out her story. Had she really been married to Bobby Blackstone? He remembered the cowboy. They competed sometimes in the same event. Bobby had been good. And wild. And one of the biggest flirts on the circuit.

Shannon was pretty in a quiet, wholesome way. Not like the flashy gals that hung around rodeos looking for a good time.

It wasn't long before they reached the fair grounds. He directed her to the back where the rigs were parked. His horse had been taken care of by someone, he could tell. The gelding was hitched to the side of the trailer, with plenty of water in a portable trough.

“Are you able to haul the trailer?” he asked. It wasn't like driving a car.

“Sure. I've done it plenty of times. But how do I get my truck home?”

Despite refusing the drugs, he was having trouble concentrating. His arm ached. Breathing hurt. And the truck could use some new shocks. He was sure they'd hit every bump and pothole on the drive from the hospital. Now he had to come up with a way to get her to drive his rig to her place. Probably not a good idea to suggest she leave it here for six weeks.

“Oh, I can't believe it, it's Steve Sturney and his son Petey.”

Before he could even ask who they were, she was out of the truck and almost running after two cowboys sauntering along beside the horse trailers.

Two hours later Shannon drove Jase’s big truck, hauling the double horse trailer behind them. Jase dozed in the passenger seat. She still could hardly believe she’d run into a neighbor and his sons at the fairgrounds. Petey had agreed to drive her own truck back to the Bar Seven. Jase had given his keys to Shannon, clearly doubting her ability to pull the trailer. But by the time they’d cleared town, he’d seen she was fully capable of handling the rig and he relaxed.

She glanced over at him and felt a tug at her heart. He looked much younger sleeping against the door. His long lashes brushed against his tanned cheek, the lines caused by pain eased with the medicine he finally took when he was assured she could handle the rig on the drive to the ranch. His position looked uncomfortable, but he was oblivious to all discomfort as he slept.

She concentrated on the road. It'd never do to become too interested in Jase Hart. She had one purpose--learn all she could about ranching so she'd never be taken in by a swindler like Rod Thompson again. The ranch was all she had. She had to make a go of it. It'd been an unexpected legacy from Bobby and the only thing of value she’d ever owned.

She had picked up some skills after she and Bobby had married. But her background didn't include ranching. She'd been the only child of an Air Force pilot. Her mother had died when she'd been a baby. A tornado when she'd been in high school had leveled her home and killed her father. She'd barely made it through high school after that.

Luck had given her a good job at a local bank. Several years of experience had her applying and being accepted for a junior management position at the bank in Tumbleweed where she'd met Bobby Blackstone.

The ride to the ranch took more than an hour. She drove carefully, conscious of her passenger and the magnificent cutting horse she pulled. She wanted to give both of them the most comfortable ride possible.

When she turned off onto the gravel drive that led to the house, she glanced once again at Jase. He was awake, watching her.

“Feeling better?” she asked as the gravel crunched beneath the tires. The grassy hills rolled out before them crisscrossed with barbed wire fencing. Cattle were visible in the distance. She loved this part of Texas. The hills were beautiful in all their moods and she never wanted to live anywhere else.

“So this is your place?” he asked, looking around as they drove further into the ranch.

“Yes.” Pride echoed in her voice. She smiled as she gazed over the spread. She'd learn everything she could to run it properly. She wanted it to be a showplace.

“Some of it’s deeded land. Some of it’s leased from BLM, Bureau of Land Management.”

“I know the BLM, darlin’,” he muttered, amused. “What do you run?”

“Polled Herefords.” She threw him a dark glance. “My name’s Shannon.”

“I know, you told me.”

“I’m not your darling,” she said stiffly.

He chuckled. “Early days yet, darlin’.”

“This is strictly a business arrangement, Jase Hart. I’m not at all interested in anything personal.”

“Now, darlin’, that’s a bigger challenge than trying to teach you to run a ranch. Don’t be throwing out statements like that or you might find yourself up against more than you bargained for,” he said, amusement lacing his tone. His voice was disturbingly husky.

She closed her eyes briefly as his voice washed through her. She tried to concentrate on driving the truck.

Despite the attraction she felt, she knew better than to get involved with a cowboy. Never again. Tilting her chin, she pulled into the yard, drove past the ranch house and to the big barn behind it. She cut the engine and turned to glare at him.

“I married a cowboy, I know all about how charming you all can be, and how you have the faithfulness of a rutting stag. All I want from you is your help in teaching me enough to run the ranch efficiently. Save the rest of your flirtatious ways for a woman who wants them.”

He studied her then nodded. “As you say, darlin’.”

He opened the door and stepped out.

Save it for someone who would believe in it, as she once had. And as she longed to again.
At the unbidden thought, she pushed open her door and hurried to the rear of the horse trailer.