Chapter Ten

Regina had the fire going in the stove when she heard J.T.’s footfalls on the porch. “Come in,” she said at his soft knock. He looked horrible. Her heart lurched at the sight of him. “What’s happened?”

“There was an accident. Cotton was bit by a rattlesnake.”

A rattlesnake? She shivered.

“Slim is riding out with him.” He moved to the stove, warmed his hands. She could see that his hands were steady but he was obviously shaken. It had been one thing after another. First the truck not running, then Luke disappearing and Buck not returning. Now Cotton and Slim were leaving?

“Someone put the snake in the tent,” he said, his voice so low she had to lean toward him to hear it.

“Why would someone do that?” she asked horrified.

“Maybe as a prank,” he said. “Maybe to sabotage the cattle roundup.” He shrugged. “I’ve decided to move the cattle down today.”

“You’ll have them rounded up by then?”

“Enough of them,” he said. He sounded weary. And worried. “I’m sorry about your ankle, but you’re going to have to ride a horse out of here, Regina.”

Regina? He must be serious. She nodded. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

He smiled at that as if he wished she’d done that in the beginning. So did she. Coming up here had been a mistake. McCall was right about that. She was no closer to signing him to the advertising contract than she’d been on the highway days ago.

She would have to ride all fifteen miles down this mountain on a horse. She would have to return to L.A. defeated. She would never find another cowboy like J. T. MacCall even if she had the time to look. She’d failed. But right now she was even more worried about Buck. “Maybe Buck will get back before we leave,” she said, praying that would be the case.

J.T.’s look said she shouldn’t count on that.

Her heart fell. Unexpected tears blurred her vision. “What do you think happened to him?”

McCall shook his head.

What was going on? “Are the rest of the men staying?” she asked, wondering how J.T. would get the cattle down if they all left.

“For the time being.”

She reached for one of the large cast-iron skillets on the stove. “Should we start breakfast?” It wasn’t light out and, according to her watch, it wouldn’t be for several hours.

He nodded. “We’ll get an early start, right at daybreak,” he said almost to himself. “I want you to be ready to ride as soon as I return,” he said to her.

She looked around the cabin. “What about my suitcase, my clothes?”

He shook his head. “I’ll come back for everything once you’re safe.”

Safe.

He took off his coat, hung it by the door and set about making breakfast. She helped, working beside him, trying hard not to think about Buck. What had happened to him? What was going to happen to all of them before they got out of here? Worse, would whoever was doing this let them leave?

Will, Nevada and Roy came in and took their places at the table with barely a nod in her direction. They all ate, heads down, a jittery silence filling the room even though the food wasn’t burned. But she knew just the sight of the four empty chairs made them all solemn. That and the fear that more of them would be missing if they didn’t get out of here soon.

“You want me to try to get some of the other strays we saw down in that ravine?” Nevada asked. “I can catch up if you move the herd out before I get back.”

J.T. shook his head. “Once we get the main herd down, I can come back for the others.”

Will was shaking his head. “In a day’s time you aren’t going to be able to get back up into this country.” He nodded at their surprised looks and motioned to his left leg, his hand going to his thigh. “A snowstorm is coming in. A big one. I have a bad leg. It’s never wrong. The weather’s about to change.”

“Let’s just hope we can get the cattle out before it hits,” J.T. said.

Roy was quiet as usual, but when he did look up, Regina thought he looked worried.

She broke the awkward silence that followed by getting up to do the dishes. After a moment, the men all pushed back their chairs, brought their dishes over to her, then filed out. All except J.T.

“I want you to stay here. Keep the door locked,” he said behind her.

She nodded, scared by the fear she heard in his tone. She kept washing the dishes so he didn’t see that her hands were trembling. He’d warned her she was in over her head.

“I’ll be back for you soon,” he said but seemed to hesitate. “Will you be all right until then?”

“If you’re trying to scare me—”

“I didn’t mean to.” He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “You just need to be careful.” He studied her face, looking worried that she might become hysterical at any moment. Not that she didn’t have the potential.

“I’ll be fine.” But even as she said the words, she worried that she might be wrong about that. She wanted to throw herself into his arms. Just to be held for a moment and then she really would be fine. For the time she was wrapped in his arms anyway.

“Regina?”

Why didn’t he call her Reggie? That would have made her mad, made her not want to cry.

He leaned in to look at her, his expression puzzled. He must have seen her trying hard not to cry. He made a face. “Don’t…”

He put his arm around her awkwardly as if this man who could run a ranch, round up six hundred head of cattle and boss grown men around didn’t have a clue what to do with one five-foot-six-inch woman.

She leaned into him, pressing against his broad solid chest. His arms came around her, pulling her to him with obvious reluctance.

She didn’t care. She didn’t even like him most of the time but right now it felt wonderful just being held, being sheltered in all that warmth and strength, feeling safe, no longer feeling alone and scared.

He seemed to soften, his arms molding her to him.

He bent his head and she felt his breath in her hair. “Oh, Reggie,” he whispered. “What am I going to do with you?”

He seemed to breathe her in, dropping his head to hers, his cheek against the top of her head. She was completely enclosed by his arms, his body, cocooned in his protective embrace. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so safe. She would have stayed there forever.

But boots thumped across the porch outside. McCall opened his arms, took her shoulders in his big hands and held her in front of him at arm’s length.

“Ready when you are,” Nevada called.

“Give me a few minutes,” J.T. called back, then seemed to wait until he heard Nevada’s boots retreat back down the porch.

His expression softened as he looked at her. “Sit down. Please,” he added. “I need to tell you something. I’m not trying to frighten you. But I think you should know this.”

She nodded as she sat down, even more afraid of what he was going to tell her.

“Nine years ago three men came up with a plan to rustle my cattle,” J.T. began, his jaw tight, his face pale. “The plan was to get rid of as many of my men as possible to make the odds better once we had the cattle down the mountain where they had semitrailers waiting.”

She stared at him. This roundup had started with six men and was now down to three. “They killed them?”

He shook his head. “Only the ones they couldn’t get rid of other ways. They camped nearby and hit us at night, taking out the men one at a time, scaring some off, killing several. I didn’t know what was happening. At first I thought the cowhands had just left.” Like Luke, he didn’t say but she heard it anyway. “The things that happened seemed like accidents,” he continued. “Until I realized they’d disabled the truck. I set up a trap, caught them in an old cabin down by the truck where we used to keep supplies.”

She held her breath.

“During the gunfight that ensued, a kerosene lantern inside the cabin was knocked over. The fire burned quickly, the cabin was old, the timbers dry. The men could have gotten out. But they wouldn’t give themselves up.”

“They burned to death?” she asked, aghast at the thought of being trapped in a cabin that was on fire.

“We found two bodies inside. The third man got away but we knew he was badly burned. We knew he couldn’t have made it off the mountain alone.”

“You never found his body?”

J.T. shook his head. “But we found some of his clothing and marks in the dirt where he’d been dragged off.”

She grimaced. “By what?”

“A bear. A grizzly. There were prints in the dirt near the scraps of clothing we found.”

She thought she might be sick. “I thought you said there weren’t any grizzlies up here.”

He shook his head. “I said the bear you fed pancakes to wasn’t a grizzly.” He stepped over to the woodstove to throw on another log. “There was an investigation nine years ago. My brother Cash was and still is sheriff so the state held the inquest. Legally, the case was closed because the three men were dead. There were semitrailers found near the county road on the way out of here where they’d planned to load the cattle.”

She stared at his broad back. “Steal the cattle?”

He nodded.

“You think it’s happening again,” she said, shocked to realize that’s exactly what he had to be thinking—and with good reason.

“The incidents are similar enough.”

“But how, if the men are dead?”

He turned to look at her. “Someone connected to that old incident could be trying to get revenge. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.”

“But it wasn’t your fault.”

“It was my roundup. I’m responsible for everyone under my hire.”

Like her. Except he hadn’t hired her exactly and certainly didn’t want her up here. She was beginning to understand why he was so upset, so worried. This was no place for a woman.

“If it really is about revenge, why has it taken them nine years?” she asked, not wanting to think about the spot she’d put J.T. in by being here, complicating things. And no wonder he’d thought she had something to do with what was going on. She shows up and look what happens.

“The time frame bothers me too,” he said. “Why wait? Maybe because I wouldn’t be expecting it, not after all this time.” He shrugged. “I hope I’m wrong about what’s going on up here. But in case I’m not, I wanted you to know.”

She nodded, not sure how knowing this helped her. She’d been scared before. Now she was terrified. “You think they’re hiding out in the woods like last time?” If he was trying to keep her in the cabin, he didn’t have to worry.

To her surprise, he shook his head. “I think the person doing this is here in camp.”

She stared at him in shock. “There are only three men left.”

He nodded and walked over to a cabinet in the corner. Opening it, he fished around in back.

To her amazement, he took out a gun.

“Have you ever fired a 9 mm pistol?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

She shook her head, hating to see the disappointment on his face.

“I’m not planning on you ever having to use it, okay? But I want you to know how—just in case.”

She nodded as he pressed the gun into her hand. She listened as he instructed her on how to fire it. She wasn’t sure what frightened her most. That he feared she would need it. Or that she might have to shoot someone.

 

AS J.T. RODE OUT of camp with the three men, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he shouldn’t be leaving Reggie alone. Maybe especially with a gun. But he couldn’t leave her unarmed and he had to get ready to move the cattle down.

He had thought about taking her with him but they had a long ride ahead of them later this afternoon and with her ankle, the ride would be painful enough without making her ride this morning as well.

The only way he could be sure she was all right would have been to stay with her. Since he couldn’t do that, he hoped that by keeping an eye on the last three cowhands she would be safe. As long as he was right about the trouble he was having coming from within the ranks—not from the outside, then all he had to do was keep track of the men.

He had his rifle in the scabbard on his saddle. He noticed that the other men had their weapons as well as they rode out of camp.

He’d considered sending Reggie down the mountain with Cotton and Slim, but he knew he couldn’t do that. Cotton was hurt and would be suffering the effects of the snakebite. Slim had been acting too scared. J.T. couldn’t even be sure that Slim would stay with Cotton and get him to the ranch and medical help. And the truth was he didn’t trust anyone.

At this point, he just hoped that with any luck, he would meet up with his brother Sheriff Cash McCall on the way down the mountain this afternoon. That is, if Cotton made it to the ranch with the message.

He tried not to think about the alternative. Just as he tried not to dwell on getting Reggie off this mountain. He couldn’t ride double with her. Not twenty miles. She would have to ride her own horse and no matter what she said about wanting to learn to ride, he had seen how afraid she was of horses. As long as she didn’t do anything foolish—

He groaned. What could have been more foolish than following him up here in the first place? At least with everything going on, she’d given up on the commercial. He supposed that was something.

Ahead, Slim and Will cut into the trees to pick up three stray cows. He looked around for Roy. He didn’t want to lose any more men. Nor did he want any of the three to double back to the cabin. With relief, he saw Roy through the trees, rounding up several more cows.

On the mountain below him, the main herd milled in the large meadow where he and the men had left them yesterday. Their coats shone in the sun, a dark rich brown and stark white. He’d been around cattle all his life but right now they were as beautiful as anything he’d ever seen. He loved this way of life. Anger boiled up in him at the thought that someone was trying to take it away from him—and using his men to do it. Just like last time.

He told himself that by this afternoon he would have the cattle and the crew back at the ranch. If he could just hold things together until then. He headed into the trees to cut a couple of strays back toward the herd, anxious to get back to Reggie and head down the mountain to the ranch.

He couldn’t wait to see the ranch house where he’d been born and raised. Only a few days ago, he’d been glad to leave. With his father Asa McCall acting strangely, his mother Shelby back from the dead, Dusty mad and pouting, Brandon stuck on the ranch working to pay off some gambling debts, Rourke away on his honeymoon, Cash living in town and keeping busy being sheriff, J.T. had wanted as far away from the ranch as he could get.

But even with the craziness at the ranch, J.T. would give anything to be riding up to it right now. He had half a million dollars worth of beef to get off this mountain. The Sundown Ranch was a working ranch that depended on the sale of the cattle each year to keep going.

He had to get the cattle down. And, he reminded himself, maybe whoever was behind the incidents would quit now that they were moving the cattle down. No one had been seriously hurt. This time. So far.

Right. He thought about Buck. He couldn’t be sure that was true. Worse, as he watched the cattle milling below him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the incidents hadn’t been random, that they were leading up to something bigger. He hoped to hell he was wrong.

The one thing he couldn’t ignore was the chance that whoever was doing this had the same plan Billy Joe Duncan, Leroy Johnson and Claude Ryan had had nine years ago.

The only one he’d known was Claude Ryan. Clearly, it had been Claude’s plan and he’d found two men to help pull it off. With Claude it had been personal. Claude had been nurturing his grudge against J.T. since they were kids.

He’d died trying to even some score that J.T. had never even understood. It was Claude’s face J.T. saw in his nightmares. Claude on fire, his face melting in the flames at the window, his gaze filled with hate as he screamed that he would kill J.T.

That kind of hate scared J.T. more than he wanted to admit. Fueled by that hate and madness, was it any wonder that Claude had been the one who’d escaped the burning cabin and had dragged himself partway down the mountain?

J.T. couldn’t imagine the last hours of Claude’s life. Had he still been alive when his body had been dragged off into the trees by the bear to be devoured?

Not even Claude deserved that.

 

REGGIE HAD just finished the dishes and packed the necessities for the ride down the mountain. She glanced at her watch, anxious for J.T. to return. It seemed like weeks since she’d seen J.T. kneeling beside her rental car, changing her tire. Changing her life, she thought.

Her head snapped up as she smelled it. She had gotten one of the windows open a crack earlier when she was doing the dishes. Now she wasn’t surprised to see smoke blowing in. She could hear the flames licking at the dry wood. Her heart leaped to her throat. The cabin was on fire!

Fire had killed the three rustlers and now the line shack was on fire. Her mind raced. Was it possible she could put the fire out? With what though?

She could hear the crackling of the flames. Smoke billowed past the window and began to bleed through the cracks along the back wall. Her eyes and throat burned as the cabin began to fill with smoke. The whole place could go up in flames at any moment. She had to get out of here!

She limped to the bed, grabbed her jacket and saw the gun where she’d left it on the mattress. As she reached for it, she knew the fire was no accident. Someone was trying to scare her. Or kill her.

Scooping up the gun, she tried to remember everything J.T. had told her about firing it. Her hand shook and she hurried to the door, her ankle throbbing, but nothing like even the thought of being burned alive in this cabin.

She unlocked the door and tried to push it open. The door wouldn’t budge. What was wrong? The door had always opened easily. Fear paralyzed her. She threw herself against the door. It still didn’t move. Rational thought intervened. Someone had barricaded the door.

Smoke moved like fog around her waist-deep and quickly climbing. She had to get out. The windows were small and paned and her only way out. She hoped she could squeeze out that way. Otherwise, she was trapped in the burning cabin.

Regina rushed to the window farthest from the burning part of the building and began to break out the glass and wooden panes with the butt of the pistol. The glass was old and brittle, the wooden panes weathered.

The cabin was full of smoke now, her eyes blurred, she could barely breathe. Covering her mouth, she dropped the pistol out the window and then climbed after it. The space was tight. She was half out when she heard something inside the cabin fall with a crash as the fire spread.

Her hips stuck in the small window. With all the strength she could muster, she pushed against the side of the cabin, forcing the rest of her body from the window.

She tumbled headfirst into the dirt and lay there for a moment, the breath knocked out of her, coughing and crying. Her hips were scraped and cut from the broken glass. Her hands were scraped and bleeding.

But she was alive. She sucked in the fresh air as she picked up the pistol and scrambled to her feet. The cabin was ablaze, the heat and smoke forcing her back. She stared at the flames for a moment, then turned and looked around the camp, sensing that she wasn’t alone.

She couldn’t see him but she could feel him watching her. He hadn’t expected her to escape. Or had he?

The air felt colder than it had earlier. She moved through the trees, keeping the pistol in front of her, wanting him to see it, wanting him to know she would kill him, praying she would have the courage to pull the trigger.

She stumbled and almost fell. Ignoring the pain that shot up from her ankle, the ache in her chest that made her cough and the tears that blurred her eyes, she ran for her life.