Cowboy Accomplice Part 13

After a dozen laps, she brought the horse to a stop next to J.T. She couldn't see his face in the darkness but she could feel his gaze.

"Good job. How's the ankle?"

"Fine," she lied.

"Right. Better call it a night."

A twig cracked off in the woods behind them. The horse shuddered. J.T. brushed her leg as he steadied the horse.

"Okay, let's see you get off by yourself," he said quietly as if he was listening to something beyond them. "Think you can get down and unsaddle him?"

She nodded. The horse felt warm against her calves. She reached down to run her hand over his neck. Nice boy. It surprised her. She didn't want to get down yet. The truth was, she didn't want this time with J.T. to end.

"You never told me how he got the name Killer," she said, remembering just what she was sitting on.

J.T. drew his attention back to her. "His full name is Lady Lady Killer." Killer."

"Why would you- You were just trying to scare me?"

"I was angry with you for taking off by yourself. I was trying to teach you a lesson."

"I'm sorry." She really meant it. "I didn't realize when I talked Buck into hiring me as your camp cook the trouble I was causing."

"I know."

"I know you're worried about Buck," she said. "Can't you ride down and check on him?"

J.T. shook his head. "I can't leave here."

"But don't the men know what to do while you're gone?" She could feel his gaze on her. She knew what she was suggesting. If he went, he'd come back with a four-wheel-drive truck and insist she leave. Any chance she had of talking him into the commercial would be over. "I'm worried about Buck, too."

J.T. THOUGHT she couldn't surprise him. He looked up at her. She didn't look afraid of the horse anymore. She seemed to have forgotten that she was even on it. But he feared there was much worse in the night to be afraid of.

She swung down out of the saddle and reached for the ground with her foot, the one attached to the sprained ankle. The moment it touched earth, she fell backward.

He caught her, his hands curling around her waist, keeping her close. Past her, he could see the campfire through the pines but no one around it. Earlier all five men had been standing around it. The fire had burned down to glowing coals now. Everyone had gone to bed. Maybe.

"If I left and came back with a truck you'd be free to go search for another jeans model," he said quietly as she turned in his hands to face him.

She shook her head and smiled ruefully. "Anyone else would just be settling."

"I thought this was your big chance, that it meant everything to you."

"There'll be other commercials," she said, her voice wavering a little.

He wanted to believe her. "This cowboy thing was your idea?"

She nodded. "Most of our models are professionals who look like...models."

He knew without asking. "You have a deadline coming up soon?"

"It doesn't matter."

Of course it mattered. He got the feeling that if she blew this a.s.signment, it would have very bad consequences on her career and he knew how much her career meant to her. Everything, she'd said.

"Ride out in the morning," she said now. "I can make breakfast for the men. Hey, I might surprise you."

He could count on that. He laughed softly and pulled her closer. "I can't leave you here," he whispered against her mouth. "It's too dangerous."

REGINA THOUGHT she heard a noise in the darkness over the trees. It sounded like the crack of a twig, only this time it was closer. Much closer.

He must have heard it, too. He drew back. "Go to the cabin." He dropped his voice. "Keep the door locked."

If he was trying to scare her, he was doing a darned good job of it. She hurried back to the cabin, taking the path on the campfire side this time, her ankle aching badly now. She heard the murmur of voices in the cowhands' wall tent, but saw no one.

The porch side of the cabin was dark. She hurried along the worn boards to the door. She'd left the lantern on in the cabin and was welcomed by its warm glow as she rushed inside. Because the cabin was small and only one room, she saw at a glance that it was empty. Hurriedly, she locked the door behind her and stood for a moment trying to catch her breath.

J.T. said he couldn't leave because of her. Because it was too dangerous. dangerous. What did he mean by that? Surely he wasn't just trying to scare her into giving him the distributor cap from the truck. She wouldn't put it past him. After all, he'd told her his horse's name was What did he mean by that? Surely he wasn't just trying to scare her into giving him the distributor cap from the truck. She wouldn't put it past him. After all, he'd told her his horse's name was Killer. Killer.

But they'd both heard something out in the woods. And Luke's horse had come back, his saddle and gear stuffed in a box outside the cabin to make it look as if he'd left. Had that been Luke out there spying on them? Listening?

She touched her tongue to her lips and hugged herself, still excited by the horseback ride and the kiss. She must be losing her mind. But then so must McCall. How else could she explain the kiss? How did she explain any of J.T.'s kisses, she thought with a sigh.

With only towels on the windows, she felt too vulnerable with the lantern on. She went to the bunk, found her small flashlight and extinguished the lantern. For a few minutes, she stood in the dark, watching the gap between the window frame and the towel. Nothing but tree limbs moved beyond the gla.s.s.

She turned on her flashlight and put more wood in the stove. She wasn't tired at all-not after that long nap she'd had.

Was she really resigned to finding another model for her jeans commercial? If she was trapped up here much longer it wouldn't make any difference. Unless she had a model by the end of the month, she could just kiss the promotion goodbye. But so much more had been riding on this advertising plan. She tried not to think about it.

She couldn't search for another cowboy posterior until she could get off this mountain. But she knew what she'd told McCall was true. She'd just be settling if she chose another cowboy. She would always know that she'd gone for second best-and that had never been her style.

So why wasn't she in a complete panic? She told herself it was because there was nothing she could do, but she knew there was a lot more to it. McCall had changed everything. The six-foot-four man with blond hair and blue eyes and the best behind she'd ever seen had spoiled her for another cowboy. Or another man.

She listened, hoping she would hear his footfalls on the porch soon. She was worried about him. If Buck didn't return soon, what would J.T. do? She knew he was trying to get as many cattle rounded up as possible but he seemed...scared. Not for himself but for her and his cowhands. And she knew him well enough to know that J. T. McCall wouldn't scare easily.

She thought about everything that had happened at the cow camp. None of the incidents should have had him that frightened. There had to be more going on than he'd told her.

J.T. WALKED the perimeter of the camp, telling himself the sound he'd heard was a deer or an elk. He circled back to the corral, the camp quiet, and unsaddled his horse and carried the saddle to the big tent.

On the way, he looked in on the cowhands.

All five cots appeared to be occupied. He closed the tent door, sure at least one of men had seen him checking on them. Will Jarvis. Was he awake because he'd just climbed into his sleeping bag?

The campfire had burned down. No light burned in the cabin. Maybe Reggie's walk had been good for her, made her too tired to do any roaming tonight.

But still he had to go check on her. He left his saddle in the tent and walked toward the cabin feeling strangely vulnerable because of her. She was his Achilles' heel. He wanted desperately to go look for Buck, but he couldn't leave her. Nor was he sure he could protect her.

The men would take care of themselves as best they could if they had to. They'd known what they were getting into when they'd signed on. There was always some danger involved whenever you were this far up in the mountains. And they could all ride. Any one of them could get out of here in a matter of hours by horse.

But Reggie... He hated to think how ill-equipped she was to survive here. Especially since she didn't ride a horse and he could tell that her ankle was hurting her more than she wanted him to know.

He reached the cabin and tapped softly on a windowpane, waited and tapped again. He wasn't about to go to the door. The last thing he could trust himself not to do would be to go inside where it was warm, where Reggie would be possibly wearing that heart-stopping negligee- Her face appeared in the window, startling him. She looked pale.

"Are you all right?" he mouthed.

She nodded and gave him a smile. "You?"

He had to smile. "I'm fine. Did you bolt the door?"

She nodded again and motioned did he want to come in?

He shook his head a little too vigorously because she laughed. "Good night."

"Good night," she mouthed back. She did have a great mouth.

He quickly turned and walked toward the tent, smiling to himself.

Now if Buck and Luke Adams would just show up. But he knew he wouldn't stop worrying until this roundup was over, until Reggie was safe, until he knew who had sabotaged the truck and killed the cows.

He wished a cell phone did work up here. He would call the ranch and see what had happened to Buck.

But a phone call wouldn't solve the mystery of what had happened to Luke. J.T. thought the cowhand had left in the middle of the night because he'd realized he'd made a mistake by coming back here, the memory of what had happened nine years ago too much for him.

But with Luke's horse returning, his saddle and gear stuffed in the box behind the cabin, J.T. was worried that Luke hadn't left running scared. Luke hadn't even left under his own power.

J.T. stopped to listen to the night. Hearing nothing unusual, he stepped into his tent and tied the canvas door closed. He pulled off his boots and jeans and crawled into his sleeping bag, knowing he wouldn't get much sleep tonight.

As he closed his eyes, he listened for the sound of a truck coming up the mountainside. Prayed for it. What he wouldn't give to see Buck's weathered old face right now and know he was safe.

Just before daylight, J.T. heard a sound that bolted him upright in bed. A terrified shriek.

J.T. pulled on his boots and dove from the tent wearing only his long underwear. It took him a moment to realize the sound hadn't come from the cabin where he'd expected it had.

The wall tent door next to his flew open, the air filling with cries and cussing as the men lunged out into the darkness half-dressed.

"What is it?" J.T. demanded as everyone circled, Roy snapping on a flashlight and shining it on Cotton.

"Rattlesnake," Cotton said from between gritted teeth and leaned down to pull up the leg of his long underwear. "The son of a b.i.t.c.h got me."

J.T. stared at the bite mark in the glow of the flashlight. There weren't any rattlesnakes up this high in the mountains. Especially in October. He could feel everyone looking at him, no doubt thinking the same thing.

"What's wrong?" Reggie called from the cabin porch, sounding scared. "McCall?"

"Go back in the cabin! I'll be there in a minute," J.T. hollered back. He swore as he turned to go out into the trees. He picked up a limb and returned. Roy handed him the flashlight without a word. Carefully, he stepped into the tent.

The flashlight beam illuminated only a small circle of golden light. He quickly shined the light around the tent, the beam skittering over the canvas floor. No snake.

Gingerly, he moved along the cots, shaking out each sleeping bag. He hadn't gone far when he heard the distinctive rattle and froze.

Leaning down slowly, he shined the light under the cots. He could hear the men outside, talking among themselves, still sounding scared, high on adrenaline, all but Cotton glad it hadn't been them.

The light picked up a pair of eyes, prehistoric looking. The large greenish-colored snake was coiled in the corner behind a duffel bag.

He stepped closer, shoving the cot and the bag aside. The tent filled with the sound of the deadly rattle as he moved nearer, the limb ready.

The snake struck, lunging its long thick-scaled body at him. He dodged to the side and trapped the snake against the side of the wall tent with the limb.

After several attempts, he was able to pin the snake's head so he could reach down and grasp it behind the head.

It was a big heavy prairie rattler, a good five feet long. Lifting it, he carried the snake out of the tent. The men all stepped back, giving him a wide berth as he took the snake deep into the woods. The beam of the flashlight bobbed ahead through the darkness, the snake growing heavy, his fingers fatigued from the pressure needed to keep the reptile from biting him.

In the quiet darkness away from the camp, he finally released the snake. Someone had to have brought this snake up the mountain, kept it hidden outside of camp and then put it in the tent tonight. To what? Scare the men? Or scare him?

J.T. swore. Well, he was scared and angry. He watched the snake slither away into the trees, following it with the flashlight beam, trying to understand what the h.e.l.l was happening in his camp.

Then slowly, he turned back, studying the ground in the thin light, looking for a sign that anyone was camped nearby. Any sign that they weren't alone up here.

But the only tracks in the soft earth were his own. When he'd ridden the perimeter of the camp, he hadn't found anything either. All of which led him to believe the one thing he had feared from the beginning, that the trouble was coming from within within his camp. One of his own men was doing this. his camp. One of his own men was doing this.

He told himself that so far it had just been pranks. No one had been killed. At least as far as he knew. The men had ridden up separately to the line shack. Any one of them could have brought the snake, kept it hidden out in the woods in a container and then let it loose in the tent tonight. But if that was the case, the fool had taken the chance that he might be the one who was bitten. Only a crazy person would take a chance like that.

J.T. thought of the only man he'd considered truly crazy. That man had died on this very mountain nine years ago. Killed by his own madness. Just the thought of Claude Ryan chilled J.T. to his marrow.

Was that what this was about? Someone wanted him to relive that cattle roundup of nine years ago, re-creating it not exactly but just close enough that J.T. wouldn't know what was going to happen next? That he couldn't be sure it was really happening-until it was too late?

Nevada was inspecting Cotton's bite in the glow of the lantern inside the wall tent when J.T. returned. It was obvious the men had thoroughly searched the tent to make sure there were no more snakes, but no one was going back to sleep in the hours until daylight.

"He needs to get to a doctor," Nevada said, looking up as J.T. ducked in through the tent doorway.

Isn't this what J.T. had feared when the truck hadn't run? The men were looking at him, waiting for him to tell him which one of them could drive Cotton to the hospital.

"The truck doesn't run," he said. "Buck went down yesterday morning to get a part for the truck and bring back another vehicle."

Slim looked up in surprise. "What's wrong with it?"

J.T. sighed. "Someone took the distributor cap."