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“Pack up your horses and move back to the ranch.”
Megan Marvell somehow managed to not roll her eyes at her younger sister, Jo. Voluntarily return to the role of peacemaker between her siblings? She loved and appreciated her sisters, but that was edging close to last-resort territory.
“I don’t think so.” She leaned back as the server neatly slid the ticket onto the table on her way by. “We should probably get going.”
The rodeo board, which she and Jo served on, was meeting that night. Jo had driven the fifty miles in from the Marvell North ranch and they’d gone to the Lakeside Tavern for a quick dinner before the meeting.
Jo planted her elbows on the polished pine table, refusing to be sidetracked. “Come on...moving to the ranch is a great idea.”
“I already have a place to live. Rent-free.” Meg’s tiny house was old and in need of repairs she wouldn’t be making any time soon given her change in circumstances, but she had a roof over her head. And a place for her herd of older horses, which she used to teach summer riding camp.
“Rent the house. Make some money.”
“I’d rather stay in Sweetheart, just in case something comes up.”
“Like what?” Jo asked reasonably, reaching for the last French fry and dragging it through the ketchup.
“A job in Polson, or Cherry Lake?”
“That you and all the other laid-off teachers will be trying for?” Jo cocked an eyebrow before popping the fry in her mouth. “A lot of them are more desperate than you are.”
“Touché.” Meg put her plate in the empty plastic fry basket and wiped her hands on the paper napkin. There was no question that she was better off than the other math and literary specialists in her school district who had also just received word that the grant that paid their salaries wasn’t going to be renewed.
Two years ago, she and her cousin, Brett Starr, had invested in a hay farm near Sweetheart, Montana. She’d used the inheritance from her parents to put a down payment on the place and he’d emptied his savings. Brett farmed it and paid her a portion of the profits and she lived for free in the foreman’s cottage on the edge of the property, which was cute, but just a little drafty.
There was no reason to return to the home ranch. Too many cooks spoiled the broth, and too many sisters trying to run one ranch had the same effect. Her last summer at home had proven that.
“I can substitute teach if I stay here. I can’t do that on the ranch.”
Jo shrugged, then glanced up as the tavern door opened and closed for the umpteenth time since they’d arrived, narrowing her eyes as she studied the people coming in. Meg knew what her sister was doing. “He’s not coming here.”
“Just watching your back.”
“I don’t need my back watched.” Despite what Jo and Alex thought, she was quite capable of holding her own. So what if the guy who’d stomped on her heart was back in town for the annual Sweetheart Ranch Horse Sale? Had been in town for the past couple of days with her cousin Cody? She could deal. Besides, the sale had ended a few hours ago, and Jason and Cody were probably well on their way back to Marietta by now.
“I swear I saw his truck as I drove in to town,” Jo persisted. “And this was where he used to hang.”
“Jo...enough.” Even if he was in town, he’d most likely avoid the place that had once been their favorite haunt, which was why she’d chosen to eat there instead of at the Cherry Pit Diner.
“Just saying.” Jo pushed her dark blond braid over her shoulder and reached for her purse. “We’d better get moving.”
“Agreed.”
Meg got up from the table and glanced toward the entrance as the door opened yet again, then did a double take as she caught sight of a familiar hat and the unmistakable angle of a stubble-covered cheek. No.
Her stuttering heart said yes.
She quickly looked away, thankful that Jo was still frowning down into her purse, digging for the tip. Apparently Jason Mann wasn’t avoiding places where he might run into her. Or maybe he had no idea that she was still alive. More likely the case, and all the more reason to play it cool.
Meg forced herself to wait as Jo continued to rummage through a purse that was ridiculously large, even though every nerve in her body was screaming “get out of here.” She wouldn’t run from Jason.
But she wouldn’t do anything to draw his attention to her either.
“I can’t find the keys,” Jo said as she pulled a five out of her purse and set it on the table.
“We’ll leave the truck and walk.” The municipal building was only four blocks away. “You can find your keys during the meeting.”
“Works for me.” Jo shouldered her purse, then led the way toward the less crowded side entrance. Meg followed her, feeling as if she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
So much for being over the guy.
And so much for not running.
The tavern was packed and Cody was nowhere to be seen.
Jason Mann scanned the patrons seated along the antique bar—the bar where Cody was supposed to be sitting, but for some reason wasn’t—then made his way to the end and ordered a Pendleton. A few seconds later a double shot plunked down in front of him.
“Start a tab?” The bartender spoke as he turned to pull a tap, filling a glass with dark beer.
“No thanks.” He pulled a ten out of his pocket and set it on the bar. Cody would show up shortly and the two of them would head back to the motel where they would spend their last night in Sweetheart before heading home to the MCC—the Marvell Cattle Company. Jason would have started the five-hour drive back to Paradise Valley after the last horse sold at the ranch horse auction a few hours ago, but Cody had business to attend to—business he hadn’t shared with Jason.
Since they had one truck between them, and Cody had not invited Jason along on whatever mission he was on, they’d left the mares they’d bought in a large holding pen at the fairgrounds for the night, and agreed to meet at the Lakeside Tavern at seven o’clock. Jason had passed the time eating a solitary dinner at the Cherry Pit Diner, sitting alone in the far corner with his back to the door. He really didn’t want to see anyone he’d known in Sweetheart back in the day. It was bad enough attending the auction, but, thankfully, most of the people there were from out of town and he only met a couple guys who remembered him.
Jason lifted the glass and sipped. The whiskey warmed his mouth and throat, made him feel a little less anxious to get the hell out of Dodge—or, in this case, Sweetheart. He’d walked away from this place with unfinished business a little over two years ago, something he’d never done in his life—unless you counted his family situation, but in that case, his only choice had been to walk or continue on their destructive path—and being back in town left him feeling edgy.
He’d done the right thing by leaving, but Meg hadn’t seen it that way. Refused to see it that way.
Maybe time had brought her to her senses, made her realize what a bullet she’d dodged.
Okay...maybe bullet-dodging was a little dramatic...but she’d dodged some heartache. In Jason’s entire life, not one serious relationship had ended well, familial or otherwise. The lone exception was his friendship with the Marvell brothers, but that was because they were as stubborn as he was. Maybe more so, which was saying something.
Jason sipped again as he silently willed Cody to get his ass back from wherever he’d gone. He wanted to get to the motel before he ran into any of Cody’s cousins—Meg being number one on the list.
He’d done well in that regard for the two and a half days he’d been in town, and saw no reason to press his luck—especially when he’d seen a truck that looked a lot like Jo Marvell’s parked outside the tavern. Thankfully, the two branches of the Marvell family weren’t all that tight—the Marvell North, located near Sweetheart, and the Marvell Cattle Company, in Paradise Valley, were loosely associated, but four hundred miles and a family rift that had occurred nearly a century ago had kept the cousins from keeping close contact unless business was involved.
When Jason had been hired on at the Marvell North after his military discharge three years ago, it’d been because Cody, who was closer to his northern cousins than his brothers, had called in a favor. And when Jason later quit the North Ranch, Cody had done him another solid and talked his brother into hiring him on at the MCC, even though they had a full crew. The only reason Jason hadn’t felt like a fucking charity case was because he had skills the Marvells could use. He knew it, the Marvells knew it, and because of him, they turned out exceptional animals in their ranch horse breeding and training program.
No one ever asked why he quit the Marvell North, but he suspected that Cody had communicated with Meg’s sisters and figured out what had gone down. His tenure at the North Ranch was rarely mentioned, and Jason certainly never brought it up—which was why he couldn’t exactly refuse when Zach, eldest Marvell brother and manager of the MCC, had sent him to Sweetheart to buy new breeding stock.
He’d just emptied his glass and was about to try Cody’s cell number when a commotion at the end of the bar brought his head up. A skinny kid, who looked like he wasn’t old enough to be in the place, was chest to chest with a guy who was a good head taller than him. The big guy was making a show of thumbing through a wallet and, when the kid made a grab for it, he easily held it up too high for the kid to reach.
Enough.
Jason pushed off from the bar and headed toward the ruckus. The kid was red in the face and barely noticed that Jason had stepped through the small circle surrounding him and Godzilla until Jason quietly said, “Give him back his wallet.”
Both the tormentor and the tormentee turned toward him, the big guy looking as if he couldn’t believe someone would interfere with his harassment and the kid going even redder now that someone was intervening.
“Dude owes me money,” the big guy rumbled.
The kid jutted his chin out. “I told you about the transmission before you bought the truck.”
“Should have lasted more than a couple weeks.” The guy pulled a debit card out of the wallet. “ATM’s over there. What’s your PIN?”
Jason plucked the card out of the guy’s hand just as the bartender arrived, phone in hand. The big man made a grab, but Jason moved his hand out of reach. The bartender stepped forward.
“Take it outside, Jim. I’m not having this shit go down in my bar.”
Jim smirked at him, then turned back to Jason. “Give me the card.” He spoke in a way that told Jason this was no longer about the ‘dude owing him money.’ This was about someone standing up to him.
“Fat fucking chance.” This was too close to the way his asshole brother, Adam, used to operate. Intimidate everyone around him until he got his way. Jason shifted his jaw sideways as he regarded the guy. He was big. He might be quick. But Jason knew he was quicker. He’d scrapped for most of his life and had no trouble reading his opponents. “Tell you what...you do as the barkeep says and leave this place and there won’t be trouble.”
The surprised laugh that escaped the big guy’s lips was echoed to a smaller degree in the crowd surrounding them.
Did he really feel like breaking his hand when he had new horses to train?
Maybe...
“I’m calling the cops, Jim.” The bartender spoke from behind him.
Jason kept his mouth shut. Jim didn’t look real bright, and all Jason wanted was to get the guy out of there without having to break bones in his hand. A mixture of emotions crossed the big man’s face as he teetered on the edge of a decision. Jason’s body tightened as he prepared for whatever move Jim decided to make, then, with a low rumbling curse, Jim thrust the wallet at the kid.
“You still owe me money,” he growled before turning toward Jason. He pointed a beefy finger at him. “You need to learn to mind your own fucking business.”
Jim spat on the floor, just missing Jason’s boots, then turned and strode toward the door. He pushed through just as Cody came in, purposely bumping the cowboy with his shoulder. Cody’s head jerked around as if he were considering taking a strip off the guy, then he let out a breath and continued into the bar. The crowd that had surrounded Jason and Jim began to drift away.
“I...uh...thanks,” the kid muttered as he jammed his wallet into his hip pocket. “Can I buy you a drink or something?”
“No need.” Jason handed him back his debit card and the kid pulled his wallet back out as Jason headed toward where he’d left his empty shot glass on the bar.
“What the hell just happened?” Cody asked as he leaned his forearms on the bar next to him.
“Guy was picking on the kid.”
Two shots appeared in front of them and he looked up to see the bartender giving him a solemn nod. Jason nodded back, accepting the silent gesture of thanks, and pushed the second shot toward Cody. “Any chance we can get out of town before daybreak tomorrow? Or do you have more stuff to do?”
“No more stuff.” Cody tossed back the whiskey and wiped the edge of his hand across his mouth. “And I don’t want to be here if that building disguised as a man comes back.”
Neither did Jason. He was already pissed at himself for reacting from the gut. For seeing his brother instead of Jim. The guy was a total jerk, but the incident had only proven to Jason that he had a long way to go before he came to terms with the shit that had gone down in his life.
“Get a smaller purse,” Meg muttered to her sister as she once again tried to find the truck keys in her behemoth bag. If they lived in a town that had muggers, they would be ripe targets standing in a tavern parking lot next to a big Ford truck, unable to find a means by which to open the damned thing.
“I like my purse,” Jo replied as she pulled the keys out with a flourish. “I can carry so much stuff. I just found a hoof pick.” She hit the button and the lights on the truck blinked as the locks popped open.
“I’m sure you did.” Meg pulled open her door, glad to be heading home.
The rodeo board meeting had been canceled because only two other people had shown up—less than a quorum. Now all she wanted to do was get into the truck, go home, make a cup of tea, watch mindless television while Jo grilled her about her future. And forget about Jason Mann—who was probably still in the tavern she and Jo had left only half an hour ago.
“Hey. Asshole!”
The deep-voiced shout from the other side of the parking lot made Meg jump. She swung around in time to see a house-sized guy step out from behind a horse trailer into the path of another man, who instantly stopped and raised his hands in a “let’s-talk-about-this” gesture. The big guy smiled and nodded as if agreeing, but instead took a swing, knocking the other guy back into the horse trailer and then hitting him again, doubling him over.
“Hey! You! Back off!” The big guy ignored her, so Meg started across the parking lot, intent on distracting him while Jo called for help. She had only covered a few yards when Jo caught up with her, catching her arm and yanking her to a halt as Godzilla zeroed in on them.
“Are you crazy?”
“I was just going to distract him.” Throw a rock or something—anything—to keep him off the guy on the ground.
“He’s distracted now.”
Indeed, he appeared to have forgotten his victim as he focused on them, and Meg automatically took a backward step.
“I’m calling the cops,” Jo yelled to the big man, waving her phone with one hand, clutching Meg’s jacket sleeve with the other. “I don’t think we can take him,” she muttered as she punched in 911 with her thumb.
“No kidding.” But she would have loved to bounce a rock off him.
The back door of the tavern opened then and the man on the ground, perhaps sensing rescue, struggled to get to his hands and knees. Godzilla turned and kicked him in the ribs, flattening him again, only to be knocked sideways as a man in a cowboy hat appeared out of nowhere and launched himself at the big guy, taking a handful of hair and yanking the man’s head back. The big guy yelled and twisted, allowing the rescuer to get hold of a beefy wrist and, with the help of the two men who’d just emerged from the tavern, wrestle him down onto the ground. All three of them sprawled on top of the squirming giant as if he were a steer they were holding to brand.
Meg started toward the injured man who let out a low groan as she approached. She wasn’t an EMT or anything, but she had training from school. He rolled over, tried to get up, then collapsed onto his back. Meg’s breath left her body as she recognized him.
It couldn’t be...
It most definitely was.
She dropped to her knees at Jason’s side, ignoring the sting of the gravel through her jeans and the voices that warned her to stay back until the paramedics arrived. She reached out to touch his face. Blood was smeared across his cheek and continued to flow from a cut on his temple, soaking the dark blond hair above his ear. He was breathing okay, but the blood had her rattled.
“Jason?” His eyes opened, as stormy gray as ever, and he frowned painfully, as if fighting to bring her into focus. His hand moved toward her, then fell limply to the ground, making Meg’s heart stop. It started beating again when he muttered her name in a low voice.
“Yes?”
His lips parted and he pulled in a pained breath. “Go home.”
Her back stiffened at the roughly spoken words and then a hand settled on her shoulder. She shook it off.
“Meg.” A man crouched down beside her. The same man who’d attacked Godzilla.
“Cody?” She blinked at her cousin.
“The deputies are here.”
She got to her feet, moved back a few yards to give a deputy access to Jason.
“He’ll be okay,” Cody said. Meg gave a numb nod, still dealing with a maelstrom of mixed emotions. Fear, hurt, anger, relief.
Jason’s eyes came open as the deputy touched him and he started to get up only to have the deputy order him to hold still until the paramedic got there.
“No ambulance,” Jason muttered. “Won’t get in it.”
“He won’t,” Cody told the deputy.
“We need to get him to an emergency room.”
“I’ll take him.”
“Could be internal injuries.”
Jason once again struggled to get up and Cody went to his side, put a hand under his arm. “I’ll take him.”
The deputy stepped back as Cody helped Jason to his feet. Megan didn’t say a word to either man. She caught her sister’s eye and jerked her head in the direction that Cody was hauling a stumbling Jason. “We’re going, too.” Because she was worried and because it had stung when he’d told her to go home. She was not going home until she was good and ready, and she certainly wasn’t going home because he told her to.
For once, Jo didn’t argue with her.
