Rebel Heart (3 page)

“I’ll get your horse out,” she said, swiftly opening the ramp and letting it down.

“I can manage,” Jase said, wincing as he watched the ramp reach the ground.

“Are you always so stubborn?” she asked. She scrambled into the trailer and moved to the horse’s head, soothing him with easy words of praise as she located his lead rope and snapped it onto the halter.

“Do you always rush in where someone else could do it?” he asked from the back.

She grinned, peeking around the big gelding, and nodded. “Always.” Slowly she backed out the gleaming horse.

“He’s a beauty,” she said as she drew level with Jase. Standing on the ramp, eye level with him, she wished that she could always be that tall. With a sigh she continued down until he towered over her again.

“Shadow. He’s a champion.”

“Champion cutting horse?”

“That’s right.” Jase reached out and took the lead line from her and headed toward the barn. Shannon kept up with him.

“I thought you rode the broncs.”

“I do. I also participate in the cutting events. Shadow's won me a ton of money. We should do even better this year. And I can ride him when I can’t ride the broncs.”

“You need to make sure your ribs heal, not just your arm.” Why was she telling him how to run his life? He was all grown up. It didn’t matter to her if he healed before he headed out. She only wanted his knowledge to help her on the ranch.

“I’ll stay the six weeks. Don’t worry about that.”

“He can have this stall.” She swung open the door to the stall, watched as Jase settled the chestnut in the large box stall, then opened the door on the far wall that led to the corral. “He must be worth a lot if he’s winning you prize money.”

Jase shrugged. “I don’t want to sell, so I don’t know what he’s worth.”

“If you sold him you’d have some ready cash, maybe enough to buy a place of your own,” she said slowly.

He closed the door, latched it, leaning on the top bar to watch the horse explore his new home. “I don’t need the money to get a place. What I want to do is ride the circuit, see some of the country, be responsible to no one but myself. Go where I want, when I want, do what I want.”

She turned away, surprised at the shock of hurt that plunged through her. Those had been Bobby’s feelings. Even though he professed to love her, he’d wanted to leave and do his own thing. The responsibility of the ranch had proved too much. The responsibility of being married had proved too much. She hadn’t asked to fall in love with her husband. She'd wanted a man to love, someone she could depend on to be there for her, someone she could build a life with, not have visit when the mood struck.

“Where do I sleep?” Jase asked as she gazed at the gelding.

She blinked, the thought of him in bed flooding through her mind. Feeling the steal of color in her cheeks, she desperately hoped he couldn’t read minds.

“You can have one of the extra bedrooms in the house.” She swung around and headed swiftly for the house.

Jase grabbed his duffel bag from the back of the truck as they passed and followed her, his boots crunching the gravel beneath his feet, ringing hollow on the wooden porch.

“Down here.” She didn’t pause when she entered the house, but headed down the hall to the large guest room on the left, several doors from her own. It would do.

The house had been built for a family. She'd once hoped she and Bobby would fill it with lots of children. Now she lived in it alone.

She stepped aside so he could enter, watching him fill the room with his presence. For a moment, she wondered if she’d lost her mind. Why have him stay in the house? Rod had had a room in the bunkhouse. Was she crazy to put Jase so close? She was only fooling herself if she thought he’d need any help because of a mere broken arm. Putting him so close was like putting a torch near a keg of gunpowder. She'd better watch her step, or it was all likely to blow up in her face.

“This’ll do fine,” Jase said as he surveyed the room. Then he turned to her, staring at her for a long moment. He took a step closer. His eyes were smoky gray. His lips were lifted in that easy half smile of his. The injuries faded into insignificance beside his blatant masculinity.

Shannon’s pulse sped up, her breathing became more difficult. Was he going to touch her? Kiss her? Heat suffused her body. She knew she should turn, should walk away, but she was paralyzed, like a deer in headlights, unable to move, unable to reason, only capable of feeling.

To her utter surprise, he closed the door in her face!

Jase turned and swept his hat off and tossed it on the dresser. Gingerly removing the sling, he shrugged out of his shirt. He hoped he could get his boots off, but if not, he'd sleep in them. He was about out for the count as it was. Five minutes later he'd fallen into bed, pulled the coverlet over his chest. He ached everywhere. And he couldn't for the life of himself figure out why he agreed to Shannon Blackstone's crazy idea of him teaching her to run a ranch profitably.

The last thing he wanted was to be responsible for anyone other than himself. And some starry-eyed young woman would be a bigger responsibility than he'd ever known if he let her.

“Morning, darlin’,” Jase’s lazy voice called across the kitchen.

Shannon paused, then turned, the fork still in her hand. Momentarily she forgot the bacon she was cooking as she took in the tall, rangy cowboy leaning casually against the doorjamb. His voice traced through her senses like hot syrup, warm and sweet. His easy grin and devilish eyes touched her with a lazy sensuality that was disturbing and totally unwelcome.

She scowled and nodded to the table.

“Have a seat. I was going to bring your breakfast to your room. I didn't know if you'd be up and around today or not. You took a hard fall.” She turned back to the sizzling bacon. She was beginning to doubt whether her plan, which had seemed so practical in theory, was going to work. How could she get anything done, learn anything to help her become a better rancher when she was so very aware of Jase as a man?

“No need to wait on me, darlin’. I’m not your responsibility. It'll take more than yesterday's knock to slow me down.”

“Stop calling me darling. And while you’re on this ranch you sure are my responsibility. Just as all the hands are. How do you feel today?” She tried to get on the offensive and take charge.

“Better than yesterday, worse than tomorrow.” He drew back a chair, scraping the floor. Shannon jumped at the sound, throwing him an angry glance. It was a mistake. His eyes caught hers, the silvery shimmer held her mesmerized.

He was the one that broke first, trailing his eyes insolently down her small frame, taking in the loose cotton shirt, her snug jeans, the scruffy boots. Slowly he traced back up and met her gaze again; his, clearly hot and interested.

It made her blood boil—especially when she could feel the heat rise at his gaze. She tilted her chin, masking her churning emotions with disdain, and turned back to the stove. Her hand shook slightly, but she knew he couldn’t see. Scooping up the last of the bacon, she didn’t even bother with any effort with the eggs, she scrambled them all.

Five minutes later she set the heaping plates on the table. That had proved to be the longest five minutes in her life. She'd felt his gaze bore into her back every second. She knew he studied every move she made, and was a hairbreadth away from making some annoying comment. And if he had even hinted at anything—

A darting glance at his face let her know he knew she’d have blasted him to kingdom come if he’d opened his mouth. And Bobby had liked the man! She shook her head. She’d always thought her husband had had some smarts, now she wondered.

“You always put your foreman up in the house?” Jase asked as he tucked into the hearty breakfast.

“I thought you might need something during the night. When you’re well, you can move out to the bunkhouse.”

“Hardly worth it. I won’t be here that long,” he said easily. “You’re a good cook.” He had almost finished the meal.

“Thanks for saying it, but it doesn’t take much to cook eggs and bacon.”

“These biscuits are light as air.”

They were good, and one thing she excelled in. Actually, Shannon could cook. She could do a lot of things, but not run a ranch. Yet.

“You didn’t grow up around here?” Jase asked as he poured himself another cup of black coffee and tipped back in his chair. His cast on his chest, he rested his cup against the plaster. He studied his hostess.

“No, farther west in a podunk town you've probably never heard of.”

“That where you met Bobby?”

She shook her head. “We met in Tumbleweed, soon after I transferred here with the bank.”

Her reply was short. She didn’t want to discuss her past. She wanted to get on with learning all she could before he moved on.

“Why not go back?”

She looked up at that. “There’s nothing to go back to. This is my home, and the only means I have of making money. I have to learn how to run it profitably.”

“What do your folks say to your staying here all alone?”

“First of all, I’m not alone. Gary and Dink are in the bunkhouse. Second, I don’t have any folks. Both, my parents are dead.” She scraped back her chair and picked up the empty plates. “Don’t you worry about me, Jase Hart, I’m my own person, not your responsibility. From what I see, you don’t cotton to responsibility at all.”

“You don’t think rodeoing is a responsible way to make a living, I take it.” Amused by her attack rather than annoyed, he baited her. Taking another sip of the coffee, he waited for her response.

She hesitated a moment. She hardly knew the man, she had no business insulting him—she needed him. But she longed to wipe that smirk from his face. He made her mad, or was she still mad at Bobby?

“Do you think riding wild horses for eight seconds is a responsible way to make a living?” she asked, her sudden anger frightening her.

The amusement faded from his gaze and he tipped down his chair. Resting his good arm on the table, he leaned forward and stared at her. “What’s the real message here? I’m not responsible enough for you? If I had a spread somewhere and was working on it, I wouldn’t be here helping you out. Which do you want, Shannon?”

“I need your help.”

“And even my lack of responsibility must be overlooked to get the help you want, right?”

She nodded. “You seem old enough to settle down, maybe get started in something that will provide for you in your old age. Rodeoing is a dangerous sport. Witness yourself right now. How much longer can you keep getting your bones broken and your ribs cracked? It’s a young man’s sport.”

“Some of it is, the broncs and the bulls. But team roping and cutting events can be done until a man’s eighty. I’m not all
that
old, dammit. I’m not ready to hang up my spurs.”

“You started late, didn’t you? I remember a little of what Bobby said when he talked about you.”

“I turned pro late, but I’ve competed since I was a kid.” Shutters came down, his expression grew remote.

Shannon blinked at the change. This man before her now wasn’t the carefree laughing man she’d faced only moments ago. He looked hard and mean and dangerous. Yet there seemed to be a hint of bleakness in the depths of his gray eyes. What had she said to change him?

“You let me take responsibility for myself. You have this ranch. You learn to run it and I’ll be out of your hair. I sure don’t need anything or anyone complicating my life at this point. I’ve worked too hard to get free,” he said.

He stood abruptly. “I’m going to check my horse. When you finish the dishes, come out and you can show me around the place.”

“I’ll do exactly that, but only because that’s what I planned to do, not because you’re ordering me around.” Shannon glared at him, afraid to give an inch lest he take over.

The amusement flashed back in his eyes. “While I’m here, I run this ranch. I’ll teach you everything I can. It’s up to you to learn as much as you can as fast as you can. But while I’m here I make the decisions and what I say goes.”

“Wait a minute, mister. This place is mine and I’m not relinquishing control of it to anyone!” She stepped closer, ready to go toe-to-toe with him. How dare he think he could just waltz in here and take over.

“There can be only one teacher, one student, and in this kind of business the only way to learn is by example. If you know so much, maybe you don’t need me, Half Pint,” he challenged.

She stopped only a foot away. “Let’s get one thing straight, no one makes comments about my size.”

He chuckled and reached out a hand to tilt her face up toward his. The feel of his fingers against her skin shocked her. Heat spread like lightning through her. Her legs grew weak and Shannon wondered if they would continue to hold her upright. Tingling sensations spiraled from her jaw to her heart. Her gaze caught in his, she could feel the heat of his steely gray eyes warm her. She forgot the discussion, forgot the indignation she’d felt only moments before. She forgot everything except the sexy man standing before her, holding her jaw so she had no choice but to stare into his mesmerizing silvery eyes.

“Shannon.” His voice was low and husky. “I’m not insulting you for your size. You’re dainty and petite and pretty as a rose in full bloom. But you’re awfully small to be struggling with a ranch of your own. A lot of the work is hard physical labor. Hard for a full-size man. What do you think you can do? You can’t weigh one hundred pounds soaking wet. I weigh double that and am at least a foot taller. Honey, to me you are a half pint.”

“I make up for size in determination,” she said. She was resolved to make it in this man’s world without depending on anyone. She just needed some help to get going.

He smiled and brushed his thumb across her jaw, slowly, back and forth. His callused skin slightly abraded the softness of hers. Taking a shaky breath, Shannon breathed in his unique scent: spicy, tangy, masculine.

Shannon’s hand came to cover his wrist; she had to break contact between them before she did something foolish beyond belief—like throw herself into his arms. But when she felt his strength, the warmth of his taut skin, her fingers clung. She could feel the steady beat of his pulse beneath her fingertips, feel the leashed strength of his muscles as he gently brushed his thumb against her. When he rubbed across her lips, she trembled. Opening her mouth slightly, she drew in a deep breath. He was going to seduce her right here in the kitchen!