“Give me your hand.”

Taking a deep breath, Reggie reached out to take Angus’s hand.

“I need you to turn and wrap your legs around me.”

“Nope. Not happening,” she said, holding on to the tree with one arm, while squeezing his hand, his grip reassuring.

“Come on, I know you’re tougher than that. You’re a one-woman ranch owner, determined to make this ranch work.”

“I’m tired. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Sure you can. You have a terrific kid who needs you.” Angus tugged her hand, gently guiding her to him. “All you have to do is wrap your arms around me and hold on. Think of it as a great big hug. Come on. I know you’ve been wanting to.”

Despite the desperate fear of falling to her death, Reggie couldn’t resist the warmth of Angus’s voice. God, she wanted to hug him right then and hold on to him for dear life.

High Country

Hideout

Elle James

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ELLE JAMES, a New York Times bestselling author, started writing when her sister challenged her to write a romance novel. She has managed a full-time job and raised three wonderful children and she and her husband even tried ranching exotic birds (ostriches, emus and rheas). Ask her and she’ll tell you what it’s like to go toe-to-toe with an angry three-hundred-and-fifty-pound bird! Elle loves to hear from fans at ellejames@earthlink.net or www.ellejames.com.

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This book is dedicated to all the Army Special Forces soldiers who’ve dedicated their lives and sacrificed so much to protecting our freedom.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

“Almost there, Ranger.” Angus Ketchum shifted the truck into low gear and glanced across the seat at the German shepherd.

The animal sat patiently in the passenger seat as they bumped across the curving gravel road. Ranger stared out the window, taking it all in without comment. Angus envied the animal’s calm. The fresh air and wide-open spaces would be good for the dog and hopefully for a washed-up soldier.

Before his last deployment he’d dreamed of owning or working on a place just like this. He’d loved fishing, hunting and working in the outdoors. Having grown up as a foreman’s son, ranching was part of the cowboy he used to be.

Hard work, sweat, cattle and horses were what made his heart sing. He couldn’t think of anything he liked better than riding the range; the quiet sounds of nature were all the music he needed.

When his father had retired from ranching at the ripe old age of fifty-five, Angus had been eighteen and on his way to Texas A&M University on a football scholarship. In the back of his mind, he knew he’d eventually come back to ranching when he could afford to buy his own spread.

His lips twisted as he applied the brake with his left foot. He’d joined the Corps of Cadets at A&M, graduated with a degree in engineering and joined the army as a brand-new second lieutenant.

Eight years and four tours to the Middle East later, his world had changed.

Gone was his goal of making a career out of the military and retiring to his own ranch. Gone was the dream of holding a decent job where he could pit his strength and intelligence against any challenge.

When he’d been discharged from the army, he had no idea what he would do, where he would go or how he would survive. Six months of surgery and rehab and he was out on his own.

If not for an old army buddy he’d met on his fourth tour to Afghanistan, he probably would have ended up drowning in a bottle of booze. He didn’t feel as if he fit in the “real” world anymore. Things had changed. He had changed.

Chuck Bolton had given Angus’s name to his boss with a recommendation to hire him.

Angus had laughed, telling Chuck he was a fool. But his friend had been insistent, and here Angus was, the newest member of Covert Cowboys Inc., for what it was worth.

What good was a broken-down cowboy to a ranch owner in Colorado? Ranching in Texas was hard enough, with drought, disease and rustlers. The hills and mountains of Colorado provided a whole different set of challenges for a cowboy, especially one with a bum leg.

His boss, Hank Derringer, must have seen something in him that he couldn’t see himself. He’d hired him on the spot, without putting him through a thorough interview or physical evaluation. He’d gone on Chuck’s word and Angus’s military record, nothing else. He’d been a damned good soldier until his last tour, when everything had gone to hell. Now that he was out of the army, with no other job offers on his plate, Angus hadn’t had any other option but to accept Hank’s offer.

Before the warmth of their handshake had faded, Hank had given Angus his first assignment. Drive out to Fool’s Fortune, Colorado, and go to work as a ranch hand for Reggie Davis on the Last Chance Ranch.

He’d almost laughed in Hank’s face, but the man hadn’t cracked a smile or clapped him on the back and told him he was kidding. Hank had given him an HK 40 handgun, a credit card and a pickup he could use as long as he was employed by CCI. All he had to do was to show up the next day for duty at the ranch.

Duty consisted of being undercover as a ranch hand while protecting the family.

Hank hadn’t given him much to go on, stating he didn’t have much himself. But when a friend of his had called for help, he’d promised to deliver.

His new boss assured him he could handle his mission. Glancing around at the rugged hills and valleys, with the Rocky Mountains as a backdrop, Angus wasn’t as confident.

From what he’d seen so far since turning off the highway and crossing beneath the arched entrance to the Last Chance Ranch, the place was a large spread. It spanned the lower valleys and high foothills of the Rockies—rocky, rugged and more beautiful than any other place on earth. Angus hoped he could hack the terrain.

After the long drive, he was ready to get out and stretch. Phantom pain still shot through him, but he’d already exceeded the recommended daily allotment of over-the-counter pain meds by noon.

When he topped the next rise, the ranch house came into view. A sprawling log cabin sat in the middle of a field on a gentle knoll, with trees forming a windbreak around the structure. A huge barn stood behind the house, its exterior weathered a dull gray. Fenced paddocks stretched away on all sides, horses in one and a giant Hereford bull in another.

Pulling around the side of the house, he parked next to an old pickup that had seen better days and more paint.

A lanky, gray-haired man emerged from the barn, tugging the collar of his coat up around his ears. He paused and then trudged toward Angus’s pickup.

“Stay,” Angus told Ranger and climbed down. Careful to plant his good leg on the ground, he held on to the door of the pickup for balance as he got both legs underneath him. What a good impression he’d make if he fell flat on his face before he even shook the hand of the owner.

“Can I help you?” The older man shaded his eyes and stared up at Angus.

Angus stuck out his hand. “Angus Ketchum. I’m here about the ranch hand job.”

The old man shook his hand, his eyes narrowing. “You the man Hank sent?”

“Yes, sir. You must be Mr. Davis.”

“Nope,” the old man replied. “Charles Wayne Reinhardt. Ranch foreman. You can call me CW.”

“Is the owner around?”

“Not yet. Actually, I was the one who called Hank. He and I go back to our army days, a couple of decades back. The boss doesn’t know you’re coming.”

Angus dropped the man’s hand and stepped back, frowning. “I don’t understand.”

“Stuff’s been happenin’ around here. Accidents.” CW snorted. “The boss doesn’t seem to think there’s a pattern. I do. That’s why I called Hank. He promised I’d get a ranch hand that could help out with the work but also protect the family.”

“Don’t you think the owner should have a say?”

CW scraped the hat off his head. “The boss is stubborn. But then, you’ll see what I mean soon enough.”

“CW, is that our new ranch hand?” A gray-haired woman stood at the top of the steps to the wraparound porch on the log cabin.

“Yeah, Mamma. He’s come all the way from Texas.”

When Angus turned toward her, she smiled. “Well, come on in. I have a room all fixed up for you.”

“You better go on up,” CW said. “Jo will get you settled in. When you’ve dropped your gear, come on out to the barn. I could use a hand.”

Angus nodded. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Not if Jo has anything to do with ya.” CW waved. “Go on. She’s waiting. And remember, the boss can’t know you’re here to provide protection.”

“Got it.” Angus glanced toward his truck. “Do you mind if I let my dog out?”

The older man peered over Angus’s shoulders at the dog sitting quietly in the front seat. “Does he chase cows or bark a lot?”

“Not that I know of. If I tell him to stay, he won’t go anywhere.”

“I guess that would be all right. Not sure how the boss will react, though.” CW’s brow remained knitted. “I don’t have any patience with city dogs. All bark and trouble. Spooks the cattle.”

Angus reached into the backseat of the four-door truck and retrieved his duffel bag. Then he snapped his fingers, and Ranger leaped out of the truck to the ground at his feet. When he walked toward the porch, the dog kept pace, glancing up for reassurance. Angus reached down to scratch the dog’s head. He’d get him a bowl of water and some food as soon as he got settled.

Careful not to limp any more than he had to, Angus measured every step, wanting to prove himself capable without any preconceived handicaps. As he approached the steps, he was glad for his hard-core therapist, who’d insisted he relearn how to climb. He took the steps one at a time, placing his feet carefully.

Ranger walked up with him.

Jo held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Jolene, CW’s better half. Everyone calls me Jo.” As he shook her hand, she glanced at Ranger. “Not sure how the boss would feel about a dog in the house, but I guess it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission, especially when the boss isn’t around. Follow me.” She led the way into the house.

The door he stepped through led into a large, airy kitchen with a ceramic-tiled floor, massive kitchen table and an oversize stainless-steel gas stove against one wall. Everything was neat and clean and the scent of coffee filled the air.

“I just put a pot of coffee on, if you’re interested,” Jo said. “You can drop your things in your room and come back through for a mug.”

“As good as it smells, I’ll wait. I’d like to get a feel for the place before sunset.”

Jo led him through an open living room with a cathedral ceiling and an entire wall of windows facing the mountains rising up around them. The sun was on its way toward the peaks and would duck behind soon. Angus wanted to check out the barn and animals before it got too dark.

“This will be your room. We have a bunkhouse, but we haven’t had a need for additional ranch hands since I came. Since there’s only one of you, it would cost more to refurbish and heat the bunkhouse than to put you up in the big house. That, and with the troubles, CW and I thought it would be best for you to stay here.” Jo pushed open a door. The room was spacious with rustic log walls. Centered on one wall stood a giant four-poster with a thick goose-down comforter spread across it and a quilt folded across the foot.

“I’ll get a blanket for the dog to bed down on the floor,” Jo offered.

“Thanks, but he has his own dog bed. I’ll bring it in later. I promise he’ll be no trouble. He’s got better house manners than some people I know.”

Jo laughed. “Good, because if he has any accidents, you get to clean up after him.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Angus liked the woman’s candor and frankness. He dropped his duffel on the floor.

“The bathroom is across the hallway.”

“Thank you, ma’am. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get outside.”

“You bet. Supper is prompt at six o’clock. I’m making ham and beans, so don’t be late.”

The thought of a home-cooked meal warmed Angus’s insides and he smiled. “I’ll be there.”

Jo gave him a serious look. “I’m glad you’re here. The boss can’t manage this big place alone. Especially with the troubles.”

“What troubles are you having?”

“Accidents. Lots of accidents. A torn girth on a saddle...a loose floorboard in the loft of the barn...a gate hanging off its hinges. Hay bales falling off the stacks.”

“Those sound like normal wear and tear on a ranch this size.”

“It wasn’t until the cut brake line that CW and I started putting two and two together. I’m not superstitious, and I don’t believe a whole lot in coincidence.” The woman planted her fist on her hip. “I’ve been here more than half my life. Things just aren’t right. That’s why CW and I decided it was time to call for some help.”

“Fair enough.” Although Angus wasn’t sure how much help he’d be. “I’m here to do the best I can.”

“And God bless you for it.” She touched his arm. “I’d hate for anything to happen to the Davises.”

Angus left through the kitchen and strode in his somewhat awkward gait toward the barn where CW had disappeared.

Inside, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting from a dingy bulb overhead. He found CW mucking a stall.

“Grab a fork and get to work. I like to have the stalls clean before the boss gets back from the field.”

“Does he need help out there?”

CW avoided his eyes. “Maybe tomorrow. It’s getting late.”

Angus found a pitchfork and went to work tossing soiled bedding into a wheelbarrow for transport out behind the barn to the compost heap. The scent of horse manure and hay brought back memories of his youth, the reminder so sharp and poignant it made his belly knot.

With every forkful of straw, his back strained and his leg throbbed, but he pushed on, enjoying the muscle strain and sweat.

Thirty minutes later CW checked on his progress. “I have to make a run to town for grain for the horses and to pick up the young’un. Anything you need?”

“Nothing I can think of except maybe a pair of work gloves.” Having been in rehab for several months, his hands didn’t have the calluses he needed for the kind of work he was doing. It would take time to build them up again.

He’d worked on strength, lifting weights and resistance training. But real, honest, hard work tasked so many more muscles than he remembered.

“I’ll pick up some at the hardware store. When you get finished in here, there’s a gate hinge that needs adjusting on the pasture fence, if you have time to get to it. Tools are in the tack room. Help yourself.”

“Will do.”

CW left, the silence a balm to Angus’s soul.

He finished mucking the stalls and spreading fresh straw on the ground. Once he hung up the pitchfork, he headed outside in time to see the sun crest the peaks, the waning light lengthening the shadows from the surrounding hills.

Dragging in a deep breath, he filled his lungs with cool mountain air, the crisp chill making him feel more alive than he had in months.

As he released the air from his lungs, the bellows of livestock filled the air and a small herd of cattle appeared over the rise, a lone horseman riding at the rear, keeping the herd from straying too far to the right or left.

The rider appeared to be angling the cattle toward a holding pen in the corner of the pasture closest to the barn. With the setting sun at the rider’s back all Angus could make out was a slender silhouette, guiding the animals home with a calm confidence only years in the saddle would produce.

He wondered how old the boss was or if he was just a small and wiry man. Handling a ranch and cattle required strength and stamina. No wonder he was having trouble and needed a ranch hand to help out.

Pushing aside his doubts about the boss’s physical capabilities, when his own were in question, Angus angled toward the pen to see if he could help. He slipped through the wooden rails and waded through the cattle milling around waiting for the gate to open with the promise of being fed on the other side.

The rider nudged his horse toward the gate and leaned down to open it. Apparently the latch stuck and refused to open. Still too far back to reach the gate first, Angus continued forward, frustrated at his slow pace.

As the horseman swung his leg over to dismount, the gelding screamed, reared and backed away so fast the rider lost his balance and fell backward into the herd of cattle.

Spooked by the horse’s distress, the cattle bellowed and churned in place, too tightly packed to figure a way out of the corner they were in.

The horse reared again. Its front hooves pawed at the air then crashed to the ground.

Unable to see the downed cowboy, Angus pushed forward, slapping at the cattle, shoving them apart to make a path through their warm bodies.

Afraid the rider would be trampled by the horse or the cattle, Angus doubled his efforts. By the time he reached him, the cowboy had pushed to his feet.

The horse chose that moment to rear again, his hooves directly over the rider.

Angus broke through the herd and threw himself into the cowboy, sending them both flying toward the fence, out of striking distance of the horse’s hooves and the panicking cattle.

Thankfully the ground was a soft layer of mud to cushion their landing, but the cowboy beneath Angus definitely took the full force of the fall, crushed beneath Angus’s six-foot-three frame.

Immediately he rolled off the horseman. “Are you okay?”

Dusk had settled in, making it hard to see.

Angus grabbed the man’s shoulder and rolled him over, his fingers brushing against the soft swell of flesh beneath the jacket he wore. His hat fell off and a cascade of sandy-blond hair spilled from beneath. Blue eyes glared up at him.

The cowboy was no boy, but a woman, with curves in all the right places and an angry scowl adding to the mess of her muddy but beautiful face. “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing on my ranch?”

Chapter Two

Reggie Davis never got thrown from her horse. She prided herself in her horsemanship and ability to work long hours in the saddle without complaint or incident.

To be thrown in front of a witness and then tackled like a quarterback in a football game didn’t sit well with her. Especially when she had no idea who the man was.

She scrambled in the mud to get her feet beneath her and stood. Then she stooped to snatch her hat off the ground, slapping it against her thigh. She’d have to let the mud dry before she could brush it off. Just what she needed, to be slammed into the mud by a big man with broad shoulders and ruggedly attractive features.

Her attacker rolled to his side and pushed to his feet, with a little help holding on to the wooden fence to pull himself upright.

When he straightened, Reggie’s heart skipped a couple beats. The man towered over her. At five foot three with her boots on, that wasn’t too darned hard. But it put her at a distinct disadvantage if the man decided to attack her again.

Knowing the best defense was a good offense, she crossed her arms, her boots planted wide, and glared up at the intruder. “Well? Are you going to explain yourself?”

His lips twitched and he bent to scoop his hat off the ground. “Next time I’ll leave you to be trampled.”

“I was doing fine on my own, thank you very much. Until you decided I needed a mud bath.”

“Sorry, ma’am. A little mud can be washed off. A dent in the head won’t wash out in a bath.” He held out his hand. “Angus Ketchum, the new ranch hand.”

Ignoring his hand, she kept her arms crossed. “We didn’t hire a ranch hand.”

“CW, the foreman, did. He said you needed a hand.” Still holding his hand out for her to shake, he waited for her response.

She stared at him for a moment, refusing his outstretched hand. With the sun sinking quickly behind the mountains, the air chilled. The mud soaking her clothing cooled against her skin and she shivered. “I need to have a talk with CW. Don’t start unpacking your bags yet.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded toward the cattle. “Want me to get the herd into this pasture?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You ever worked cattle?”

“Most of my life.”

“Then yes. Have at it.” She stood back and waved a hand at the cattle now strung out, some heading back the way they’d come.

“First, let me get you out of harm’s way.” He grabbed her around the waist and she squealed, grabbing his shoulders as he lifted her to sit on the top rail of the fence.

“Don’t ever do that again,” she commanded, strangely breathless at the way his big hands had splayed around her middle and lifted her so effortlessly.

“I won’t unless...you want me to.” He winked, snagged her horse’s reins, soothing him with murmured words of assurance. He ran his fingers over his neck and down to his hooves, checking them one at a time. “Can’t see any injuries that would have caused him to rear like that.” He glanced up. “I’ll take him into the barn and give him a good going-over.”

Reggie nodded, entranced by the quiet confidence and soothing manner the man displayed with the animal.

The cowboy led the gelding through the gate Reggie had been aiming for earlier and through the back door of the barn.

Reggie sat on the rail, letting her heartbeat return to normal.

A few moments later her cowboy reappeared with a bale of hay, carrying it to the far side of the pen.

The man walked with a strange gait, limping slightly, more pronounced with the heavy bale in his grip.

As soon as the cattle spotted him and the hay bale, they raced through the gate, every last one of them, including Reggie’s horse.

So, he knew what motivated cows. Anyone with half a brain would have figured it out. It still didn’t give him the right to tackle her into the mud.

“They could use about five more of those, while you’re at it,” she called out. If he was applying for a position as ranch hand, he might as well feed the cows and save her the trouble. She still had her horse to curry, feed and stable, not to mention stalls to muck.

CW worked hard, but he was getting older and slower. After he’d thrown out his back last year, Reggie hadn’t wanted him doing too much. By having him drive to town to pick up Tad from school, it made him slow down enough he wasn’t killing himself with ranch work.

He’d been asking for a ranch hand for a while now. Reggie had finally agreed, unsure of where she’d come up with the money to pay one. But if she wanted to keep the ranch viable for her son to inherit one day, she had to have help.

The man reentered the barn and came out carrying a bale in either hand, the limp much more pronounced, his jaw tight with the strain.

Show-off.

Not one to sit around while others worked, Reggie climbed down from the fence and almost stepped on a large dark creature. Her first instinct was wolf! She screamed and scrambled away. Her feet hit a patch of mud, slid right out from under her and she landed hard on her butt.

The animal stepped closer, its nose within biting distance of her face.

Reggie froze and then a long pink tongue stretched out and licked her chin, the dog whining its concern.

The ranch hand loped over to the fence and peered over the top to where she once again lay sprawled in the mud. “Are you all right?”

He started to climb over the fence, but she raised a hand. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting to be attacked.”

The man’s face split into a grin, his teeth shining white in the gloom. “Ranger is a highly trained purebred German shepherd and perhaps the most decorated dog in the US Army. He retired from active duty six months ago.”

“Well, hooray for Ranger. Can you call him off me?”

“Ranger, sit.” The man spoke softly and the dog responded immediately, squatting on his haunches.

Now that she knew it wasn’t a wolf, Reggie felt stupid. For the second time that day she picked herself up and tried to dust the mud from her jeans. Ah, who was she kidding? They’d have to be hosed down before going into the washer.

Feeling bad for her nonchalance about Ranger’s service, she reached out and scratched the dog behind his ears. In response, Ranger leaned against her leg and looked up at her with grateful eyes.

“Really tough, aren’t you?” she muttered, a sucker for soulful eyes and fur. She slipped through the fence. “That hay’s not getting itself out to the cows.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And stop calling me ‘ma’am’. I’m not that old.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She rolled her eyes. “What did you say your name was, cowboy?”

“Angus Ketchum.” He held out his hand. “And you are?”

“Reggie Davis. The owner of the Last Chance Ranch.”

In the darkness, she didn’t miss his eyes flaring. When she took his hand, an immediate spark rippled up her arm and down her body. She had to look up at him to see his face, now shadowed in the dusk.

“You’re the boss?” he asked.

“Yes. Me.” She frowned and let go of his hand. “What? You don’t think a woman can run a ranch on her own?”

“No, ma’am. I just thought the owner would be a man.”

“Well, he was. A very good man, but he died last year. Now I run the ranch until my son is old enough to handle it himself. Do you have a problem taking orders from a woman?”

“No, ma’am.” Angus held up his hand. “You’re the boss.”

“Damn right, I am.” She slipped between the rails of the fence and strode across to where her horse was nosing his way into the herd, vying for a taste of hay. Snagging his reins, she led him into the barn.

Angus had gotten ahead of her and was carrying two more bales to the door. He paused and waited for her to lead the horse inside. In that moment, Reggie got a really good look at the man.

Dark hair, darker eyes and a chiseled jaw with the hint of stubble shadowing his skin. He certainly was handsome, in a rugged way. He sported dark smudges beneath his eyes and fine lines at the corners.

Yeah, he was handsome, but then, handsome wasn’t always a good thing. She’d learned that most handsome men were too full of themselves to think of others. Angus would have to prove himself in other ways. Looks weren’t everything. Honesty, loyalty and hard work were much more important in Reggie’s books. It took a real man to make a cowboy, not just a cowboy hat.

She tied Jake’s reins to a post and stepped into the tack room for a currycomb and brush. When she returned, Angus was loosening the girth on her saddle.

“I can do this,” she said.

“I don’t mind. It’s my job.”

“I can take care of my own horse,” she insisted.

“Never said you couldn’t. You take care of the horse. I’ll take care of the saddle.” He hefted the saddle and blanket and carried it to the saddletree in the tack room.

Having fended for herself over the past year, Reggie wasn’t used to someone else taking charge. She tried to be ahead of CW as much as possible to spare him the additional work.

She couldn’t lie; it was nice to have someone else carry her saddle to the tack room. After a long day out in the cold air and rocky hills, she was ready for a shower and sleep.

She’d be glad when her brother returned from his trip to Denver. The ranch was a lot of work. When he was there, it took some of the burden off her shoulders. Too bad he wasn’t living there. Then again, she couldn’t expect Will to spend all his time on a ranch he’d never own. As a Realtor, he needed to continue to build his clientele so that he could increase his sales and income. He’d been spending a lot of time with one of the Realtors in the firm he worked for. He’d gone with her to Denver for a seminar. Reggie suspected Will was falling for the woman. She’d met her once and hadn’t really liked the woman, but then she might not have given her the benefit of the doubt.

Reggie brushed Jake from nose to tail, pausing to check his legs and hooves. The front leg had a long scrape on it, probably from when he’d reared.

Returning to the tack room, Reggie grabbed a tube of antiseptic cream, a clean rag and filled a bucket with fresh water. In a few short minutes she’d cleaned the scrape and applied the cream to the horse’s leg. Then she took the time to work the tangles out of his tail.

Angus was outside for longer than she would have expected. When he didn’t come back in for the last bale, she went looking for him.

As she stepped into the back doorway, he appeared, carrying what appeared to be a snake.

It rattled and Reggie jumped back.

Jake neighed and danced around, tugging at the reins tied to the post, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“What the hell?” Reggie demanded.

“Don’t worry, it’s not real. When I couldn’t find an injury on your horse, I checked the ground where you fell.” He turned it over and showed her the switch on the back that disengaged the rattling sound. “It makes the rattle noise when it senses movement.”

“It’s a toy?”

“Some toy.” He glanced at the horse. “Do you have a bag we can put this in? Your horse has had enough trauma for the night.”

Reggie retrieved a burlap sack from the tack room and helped Angus stuff the toy inside.

“You said you have a son?” he queried.

“I do. But that’s not one of his toys.”

Angus’s lips tightened. “Is there anyone on the ranch who likes playing cruel practical jokes?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s just CW, Jo, Tad and me. Sometimes my brother stays out here, but he’d never pull something like that.”

“It’s not a joke when someone almost got killed.”

She frowned. “I wouldn’t go that far. I was fine. I wouldn’t have been killed.”

“CW tells me there have been some unfortunate events around here lately.”

Reggie shrugged. “CW is an old hen. He worries too much.”

Angus tilted his head. “Could it be you worry too little?”

“What? So now you’re an expert on what’s going on at the Last Chance Ranch?” She glanced at her watch. “You’ve been here all of a couple hours and you’re lecturing me.” Reggie shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

He stared at her for a long moment and then smiled. “You’re absolutely right. Please accept my apologies.” He set the bag with the snake aside, along with the previous conversation. “What do you feed the horse?”

Reggie accepted his retreat at face value and responded. “Sweet feed. It’s in that container in the corner. Two coffee cans full.”

Jake danced around the post she’d tied him to, his eyes wide, his ears pinned back. Reggie smoothed her hand down his nose in an attempt to calm the big animal.

When he settled, she led him to his stall, removed his bridle and hung it on a hook beside the stall door.

“Excuse me.” Angus squeezed past her, accidentally brushing his body up against hers in the process. A bolt of electricity shot through her, leaving her fingers, toes and other odd places tingling.

At least, it appeared to be that the contact was an accident of the confined space. Surely the cowboy wasn’t trying to get close to her on purpose. After she’d pretty much told him off, what man would flirt with her? And for that matter would she know if a man was flirting with her? She hadn’t been on a date since high school, when she’d had what she’d thought was her last first kiss with her high school sweetheart, Ted. They’d been together all those years.

Angus dumped the feed cans into the trough and exited the stall, brushing against her again.

The sudden electrical surge powered through her body again and she hurried out of the way. Her husband had only been dead for a year. Surely that wasn’t enough time to forget. Ted had been her world up until the day he’d slipped at the edge of a crevasse and fallen more than three hundred feet to his death. A year ago she’d been living the dream, working with her husband at her side, her son growing up in the most beautiful place in the world. One careless misstep and Ted was gone.

The past year had been an eye-opener. Sure, she’d helped a considerable amount while he was alive, but she’d also taken the time to be a mother to her young son. Tad had been four years old when his father died. He barely remembered the man, which grieved Reggie.

Her husband, Theodore Alan Davis Sr., had been a good man, and she’d loved him with all her heart. From high school in the small town of Fool’s Fortune, they’d attended the same college in Denver and returned to help out on his father’s ranch. When Ted’s dad died, his mother followed soon after. They’d barely met their grandson, and Tad had never really gotten to know his grandparents.

The pain had faded, but the loss still left a hole in her life. Until she moved on, it would remain.

Seeing the new ranch hand move around the barn as though he knew what he was doing didn’t help. This was Ted’s barn, Ted’s ranch, and Ted had been the love of her life. Why then, was she attracted to a man who’d knocked her on her face in the mud? Angry at herself, she turned away from the man who’d stirred in her something she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. And all because of an accidental bumping of bodies.

“I’m going to the house for a shower,” she said and left the barn. Better to step away than to continue to stare at the man. She’d have a word with CW. Maybe they could find an older or uglier guy to work the ranch. With that plan in mind, she headed for the house.

* * *

ANGUS’S LEG ACHED like crazy, but no matter how much it pained him, he’d die before showing even a shred of weakness in front of the owner of the Last Chance Ranch. Had he known the owner was female...what? Would he have refused the only job offer he’d had since being discharged from the army?

No. He couldn’t. Who else would hire him?

His muscles clenched, his gut knotted and his heart rate kicked up.

Ranger nudged his fingers, reminding him to remain calm and to scratch his ears. The dog sensed when anger or anxiety threatened to overwhelm Angus. When it did, Ranger stepped in and nudged his hand or laid his nose in his owner’s lap. The contact and resulting calm helped Angus regain his focus within seconds.

He had no problem working for females. He’d reported to female commanders. They were every bit as competent as the men, some more so. Then why did it bother him that Reggie Davis was female?

Because when he’d turned her over on the ground and stared down into those startling blue eyes, he’d taken a hit straight to his gut. The woman was everything he’d resigned himself to forget. She was strong, yet feminine and sexy as hell in blue jeans and a cowboy hat.

What woman would want a broken man like him? What did he have to offer? Crippled and plagued with PTSD flashbacks, he’d be more effort than he was worth. He wouldn’t wish himself on anyone. Especially not a lone female trying to run a ranch all by herself. She didn’t need the added burden.

The soft touch of her skin lingered with him, reminding him that he hadn’t been with a woman since before he’d left for his last deployment to Afghanistan. Oh, there’d been doctors, nurses and physical therapists hovering around him for months, but that was different. They’d only touched him because it was their job, and he hadn’t been in the least interested in them. How could he be? Up until he’d left rehab, and even now, he still experienced blinding residual and phantom pain from his injury.

His leg throbbed. He really needed to get off it and put it up for a while. He hadn’t had to stand for hours in a long time. Working a ranch would prove difficult at best. But it beat sitting around feeling sorry for himself.

He found leather oil in the tack room and spent time oiling the leather on the girth straps and rubbing it into the saddle. The longer he waited, the less time he’d have to spend in the company of others.

Fifteen minutes after Reggie had left him in the barn, a door opened and closed. He sat quietly, hoping whoever it was would leave him alone.

From his position inside the tack room, Angus heard the shuffle of footsteps but couldn’t tell who was there until a small boy appeared in the doorway.

He had longish dark brown hair, brown eyes and a pale little face. He must be the son Reggie had referred to, though he didn’t look much like her.

For several long moments he stood, staring at Angus rubbing oil into the saddle leather. “Are you a real cowboy?” he finally asked.

Angus glanced across at the boy. “I don’t know. What is a real cowboy?”

The boy promptly answered, “A man who wears a cowboy hat and rides a horse.”

Angus glanced at the cowboy hat sitting on the workbench beside him. “That’s my hat.”

The boy considered the hat and then Angus. “Do you ride horses?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you must be a cowboy.”

“I guess you have a point.” Angus set the rag and oil aside and replaced the saddle on the saddletree. “Does your mother know where you are?”

The boy shrugged. “I come out here all the time.”

“In the dark?”

He dipped his head. “No, but I know my way back.”

“How about you and I go back together?”

The boy seemed to think about it and then raised his hand.

Angus captured the hand in his, marveling at how small and trusting the child was. Unused to small children, Angus held the boy’s hand, swallowing the tiny fingers with his own.

“Have you had supper yet?” Angus asked.

“No, sir. Mrs. Jo asked me to come get you. It’s almost six o’clock.”

“Then we’d better get going or we’ll be late for dinner.”

They exited the barn together, Angus closing the door behind them.

“What’s your name?” the boy asked as he walked alongside Angus, trying to match his short strides to Angus’s longer ones.

“Angus.”

“Angus.” The boy tipped his head. “Isn’t that a cow?”

Angus grinned. “A kind of cow.”

Nodding, the boy trotted along a little farther before saying, “My name is Tad.”

“Nice to meet you, Tad.”

He had to admit, a strange feeling came over him as he walked with the boy at his side. It felt right. How, he didn’t know. But he liked answering the boy’s questions. The kid was polite, curious and instilled powerful protective instincts in Angus.

The child had pluck. He didn’t ask Angus to slow down, taking three steps for every one of Angus’s long, if gimpy, strides.

When they finally reached the porch, the boy ran up the steps and turned to face him. “Could you teach me how to ride a horse like a cowboy?”

“I could,” he said, wondering what his mother would say about him promising to teach the boy to ride.

As he mounted the steps, Angus’s brows furrowed.

A woman, a kid and two old people on their own on a ranch in the hills. And someone had planted a snake where the woman was bound to ride. Although it was a fake snake, it had accomplished its mission. The horse had spooked, the rider had fallen. Whether it was a practical joke or had malicious connotations was pure conjecture.

CW seemed a pretty down-to-earth old man. He would not have called his old friend Hank for help if he wasn’t convinced Reggie Davis was in trouble.

Angus’s gut told him the situation bore watching. Even a man with only one good leg would be better than no one. But he would put in a call to the head of Covert Cowboys Inc. Reggie and her small son deserved someone more capable of taking care of them.

Chapter Three

Reggie had stripped in the mudroom, wrapped a towel around herself and headed through the house to shower. All the while her mind drifted back to the man in the barn and the way her body still felt after simply brushing up against him.

Naked beneath the towel, her breasts tightened. Jo and CW had insisted on the new ranch hand staying in the house. The older couple had a small cabin nearby, which meant they wouldn’t be around at night should she need help.

What if she ran into him in the hallway when she was only wearing a towel?

Her body burned at the thought. Holy hell, she was lusting after a stranger. How could she, when her husband had only been gone a year?

She entered the master bedroom and closed the door. Riffling through a drawer, she unearthed clean underwear. If they happened to be her best, black-lace bikini panties, that was only because all her cotton underwear were in the wash.

Once in the master bathroom, she dropped her clothing on the counter and switched on the water, adjusting it to hot. When she faced herself in the mirror, she almost laughed out loud.

Though her body was somewhat clean, her jeans and shirt taking the brunt of the mud bath, her face was smudged with mud, some of it drying. Her hair stood on end, caked in mud. And to think, she’d been having lusty thoughts about the new ranch hand.

Covered in mud, she looked more like a pig in a poke than a young, beautiful and desirable woman. Not that she wanted him to desire her. No, sir. She was far from ready to reenter the dating pool. With a struggling ranch to run and a son to raise, she had her hands full.

Reggie stepped into the shower and eased beneath the hot spray. After a good soaking, she poured a heaping helping of shampoo into her palm and scrubbed her hair. Using a fresh washcloth, she scrubbed her face, arms and body and finally felt clean of mud and manure. And she smelled more like a woman than the horse she’d ridden in on.

Of course it was purely for personal hygiene, not a desire to prove she was an attractive woman beneath the jeans and dirt.

She stepped out onto the mat and dried off. She’d shared this bathroom with Ted. It was spacious, with a tub big enough for two people. They’d shared many baths in that tub, learning to love each other, spending time together even after a hard day’s work.

Their life together had been going so well. Why did he have to die?

A hard lump settled in her chest, but she’d already spent all her tears. The fact was, Ted was gone and she’d been left behind to take care of their son. If she could manage to keep up with the ranch his father had left for him. Ted’s life insurance had paid off the land, now all she had to do was make the land support them.

And that was the biggest test of all. Raising cattle in the Rockies was iffy at best. The cold winters and the crazy amounts of snow made every day a challenge. If they lived closer to a city, Reggie could go to work and support them, but Fool’s Fortune was so small. Most jobs consisted of selling real estate to the wealthy people from Denver and serving those wealthy people in the bars, diners and souvenir shops in town when they came to the mountains for vacations.

They’d been lucky so far this winter. The snows had held off. And a good thing, too, since the cattle had spread all up in the hills, and getting them down had taken Reggie longer than she’d anticipated. She still had a dozen in an upper pasture that needed to be brought down the next day. The weatherman was predicting the first blizzard before the end of the week.

For a moment Reggie debated adding a layer of foundation to her face and a little color to her cheeks. Shaking the thought from her head, she dabbed on lip balm and left the bathroom. In her bedroom, she threw on clean jeans and a cream sweater that covered everything. A glance in the mirror reminded her that while it covered everything, the sweater also hugged her body like a glove, emphasizing the curves of her breasts and hips. Maybe she’d be better off wearing one of the chambray shirts she worked in.

“Reggie, dear, supper’s ready!” Jo called, ending the sweater debate.

As she hurried out into the hallway, she ran into a solid wall of bare muscle coming out of the guest bathroom. She braced her hands on a broad, naked chest and glanced up into deep brown eyes, so very different from Ted’s hazel ones.

Strong arms came up around her waist, crushing her even closer to him.

“Steady there,” Angus said, his chest vibrating with the deep resonance of his voice.

For a moment she forgot where she was as she inhaled the clean, woodsy scent of him, her fingers curling against his skin. He wore blue jeans and sneakers, and nothing else. The smooth expanse of skin drew her like a bee to honey, her insides igniting.

His lips curled upward on the corners as if he knew the effect he was having on her. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Mmm, yes, yes.” When she realized her hands still rested against his bare skin, heat rose up her neck and filled her cheeks.

Reggie backed away. “I’m fine. Perfectly fine.” She pushed a drying strand of hair away from her face and tore her gaze from his dark, enigmatic one. “Supper’s ready and Jo likes everyone to be on time.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Well, then.” She smoothed that same strand again. “Well, if you’ll excuse me—”

“Of course.” Angus stepped out of her way and Reggie beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen.

What was wrong with her? She’d touched the man. Hell, she’d laid her hands all over his chest. And, damn it, she’d liked the feel of his skin against her fingertips. She had to pull herself together.

As she neared the kitchen she slowed, composed herself and stepped in.

Tad ran to her, his arms open.

She scooped him up and hugged him close. “When did you and CW get back from town?”

“While you were in the shower.” He hugged her and wiggled out of her arms. “Did you meet the cowboy? He said his name is Angus. Isn’t that a kind of cow? I like him. He’s a real cowboy, and he’s going to teach me to ride.”

“Whoa, slow down there.” Reggie laughed. “I was only in the shower a few minutes and you learned all that?”

He nodded and ran for the basket of bread rolls on the counter. “Jo made fresh rolls for dinner.”

“I see that. Did you wash your hands?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He held up his small hands. “See?” Then he darted around her and ran for the door to the kitchen. “Angus, you can sit by me. Where’s Ranger?”

“He’s resting in my room. I didn’t think he’d be welcome at the dinner table.” Angus winked as he stood in the doorway, wearing a clean, blue chambray shirt, buttoning the buttons as he stood there. When he finished, he took Tad’s hand and let him lead him to the table.

“Sit there,” Tad said, pointing to a chair.

“Tad...ask nicely,” Reggie admonished.

“Please, sit there.” He tapped the back of a chair and claimed the one beside it.

CW and Jo always sat at the other side of the table, which forced Reggie to sit at the end next to Angus. He pulled out the chair and waited for her to take her seat before sitting.

The table overflowed with food. After each platter had been handed around, Reggie lifted a forkful of ham and paused. “So, Angus, I’m not convinced we really need a ranch hand, but CW assures me we do. I can offer room and board, but I can’t afford to pay a lot.”

“I don’t require a lot,” he said, poking a bite of roll into his mouth.

“Then why would you want to work here?”

“I enjoy working with animals and being outdoors.”

She studied him for a long moment. “You can stay.” Reggie held up a finger. “On a trial basis.”

“Fair enough.” He turned to Jo. “Mrs. Jo, the rolls are wonderful.”

Jo preened. “You look like you could do with some good old-fashioned home cooking.”

The man was muscular, but his face was somewhat hollow, as though he’d been through rough times. Reggie raised her glass and drank a long pull of water, studying Angus in her peripheral vision.

Jo continued, “Since you’re out here alone, I take it you’re not married.”

Water lodged in Reggie’s throat and backed up into her nostrils. She stopped herself short of spewing it across the table as heat burned its way into her cheeks. Trust Jo to get down to the personal questions first thing.

* * *

ANGUS FOUGHT THE SMILE that threatened to erupt at Reggie’s distress. The ranch owner turned an alarming shade of red and coughed several times.

He leaned back and thumped her on the back. “Are you okay? Don’t need a hug, now, do you?”

“No...no...” she gasped. “Wrong pipe.” Then she glared across the table at Jo. “Leave Angus alone, Jo. He doesn’t have to answer personal questions to work here.”

Jo laughed irreverently. “He does if he wants another one of those rolls.” She winked at him. “So, are you married?”

Angus liked the woman’s forthrightness and laughing smile. “No, I’m not.” And he probably never would be.

“That’s interesting.” Jo tilted her head. “A good-looking young man like you should already be settled with half a dozen children.”

His jaw tightened. “The opportunity never came up.”

“CW tells me you were in the army.”

Angus’s entire body tensed. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Were you deployed overseas?” Jo continued her interrogation.

“Four times.”

“Goodness. That would make it difficult to form a lasting relationship. Takes a special woman to marry a soldier and make it work.” She glanced across at Reggie. “A strong woman who can keep the fires burning on the home front. Reggie’s one of the most independent women I know. She can ride the range, round up cattle, muck stalls and still have time to read to Tad.”

“Leave me out of this conversation,” Reggie muttered and turned to Angus. “And watch her. She’s an uncontrollable matchmaker.”

“I am, and danged proud of it.” Jo set her fork on the table. “Angus, you want another one of those rolls?” She passed him the basket.

Angus selected one and studied Jo Reinhardt. The woman obviously loved Reggie and wanted the best for her. She probably thought the young widow needed a new husband.

Too bad she was barking up the wrong tree.

His gaze shifted to Reggie. Her soft sandy-blond hair was drying, the curls springing up around her shoulders.

A man would be lucky to have her as his wife. She wasn’t clingy or froufrou. Though she could ride and work animals like any other man, that was where the resemblance stopped. The way her sweater hugged her curves and her jeans caressed her hips, she was one hundred percent female.

“Got a lot to do tomorrow.” CW’s words pulled Angus back to the table.

The older man slathered his roll with butter. “Supposed to get down below freezing tonight. If the ground gets cold enough, that snow headed this way later this week will stick.” He glanced at Angus.

Reggie nodded. “We need to get the rest of the cattle down from the upper pastures tomorrow.”

Glad the conversation had shifted from him to the ranch, Angus took a bite of the smoked ham, enjoying the flavors.

“You up for riding so soon?” CW’s gaze met Angus’s, making him wonder if Hank had told him the extent of his injuries.

Angus swallowed. “Yes, sir.” He’d be damned if he showed a single ounce of weakness in front of Reggie. “It’s been a while since I saddled up, but I’m sure I can manage.”

CW continued to stare at Angus for a moment longer and then his gaze dropped to the buttered roll in his hand. “Riding a horse is a lot like riding a bicycle. Once you learn, it’s easy to remember.”

Angus hoped like hell CW was right. One thing he’d discovered in rehab was that, since his injury, he’d had to relearn everything to do with walking, running and riding a bicycle. Horseback riding would be an entirely different experience. He considered rising early to practice mounting without Reggie or CW standing around to witness his shame if it proved too difficult.

“Gonna be a bunch of stars out tonight,” Jo said. “The weatherman reported there’ll be a meteor shower today and tomorrow.” She glanced at Reggie. “You used to love watching the meteor showers, Reggie.”

“Really, Jo?” Reggie’s lips twisted. “Not in frigid temperatures. Now, if you don’t stop, you’ll run off our hired help.”

“What?” Jo held her hands up. “All I said is that there’s a meteor shower gonna light up the sky. Tonight might be your only chance to view it.”

Reggie finished her meal before everyone else and pushed back from the table. “If you will excuse me, I want to check on Jake’s leg before I call it a night.”

Angus pushed his chair back and started to stand. “Let me.”

Reggie shook her head. “I can get this myself. Please, don’t get up.”

He waited until she’d slipped out the back door before he stood. “Need help with the dishes, Mrs. Jo?”

“No, thank you, Angus.” Jo tilted her head toward the back door. “You go on out and help Ms. Reggie with that horse.”

“Leave the kids alone, Mamma,” CW said. “I know a boy who would love a couple of your chocolate-chip cookies.”

“Me!” Tad raised his hand. “I want some.”

The boy’s delight at the cookies made Angus smile. To be so young and carefree that chocolate-chip cookies could make you happy was a gift. He slipped into his jacket and left through the back door, careful to let it close softly behind him. He thought about letting Ranger out for a walk, but didn’t want to frighten Reggie again. He’d let him out later.

Reggie was nowhere to be seen, but a light from the barn glowed like a beacon, drawing Angus across the yard.

Jo had been right about the sky being clear and the stars shining bright. Used to the big skies of West Texas, he did feel a little closer to the heavens in the higher altitude of the Rockies. And the air seemed cleaner, not dusty and dry like Texas.

For a moment he stood still, inhaling the fresh mountain air, for the first time in a long time glad he was alive.

Though Reggie hadn’t asked for help, as the new ranch hand he felt obligated to check in with her and make certain she hadn’t run into issues with the horse. And, based on his true job description, he was supposed to be keeping an eye on the owner and her family.

He turned and headed for the barn.

A scream rent the air, the sound coming from the direction of the barn.

Angus kicked out his bad leg and ran as best he could to the structure looming in front of him. As he neared the door, a shadow moved to the east of the barn. At first Angus thought it might be Reggie, but it slipped out of sight and a horse whinnied nervously from inside the structure, the sound of hooves banging against wood drawing Angus toward the barn door.

Had one of the animals broken out of a stall? Or worse, had Jake spooked again while Reggie had been in his stall? She could be lying at his feet, being beaten to death by flailing hooves.

Angus ran in his lumbering gait for the door and flung it open to a darkened interior.

“Reggie?” he called out, his pulse pounding so loud in his ears he was afraid he might not hear her response.

Reaching inside the door, he felt for and tripped the light switch. Nothing happened. Earlier, he’d noticed a flashlight hanging in a charger on the wall by the door. He felt along the boards until his fingers gripped the handle of the flashlight and he yanked it from its cradle.

Feeling as if he was taking far too long to check things out, he fumbled until he located the switch and turned it on.

Light sliced through the darkness.

Jake nickered worriedly and pawed at the boards of his stall.

Angus crossed to him and touched a hand to his nose. “Shh, boy. Where’s Reggie?” He leaned over the gate and shined the light at the base of the horse’s hooves. Nothing moved. All that was there was fresh straw.

The horse pressed his nose into Angus’s hand.

“It’s okay, boy. I’ll find her.” Angus turned around and pointed the light toward the door he’d come through, and slowly shone the beam across the floor. Nothing moved in front of the stalls. The floor was clean except for loose hay and straw.

As the beam slid toward the back of the barn it encountered a dark form lying in the shadows near the feed buckets he’d located earlier.

His heart beating hard against his ribs, Angus neared the lump. A few steps closer and he realized it was Reggie. Facedown, blood pooling beneath her forehead.

“Reggie, darlin’.” He dropped to his good knee and braced his other leg out to the side.

She moaned and stirred.

“Reggie.” He touched her shoulder. “Tell me you’re all right.”

She pushed against the floor and rolled onto her back, raising her hand to cradle the back of her head. “Ted?”

“Not Ted. It’s Angus. What happened?”

“I’m not sure.” She closed her eyes. “Something hit me in the back of my head.”

Angus glanced around for a fallen object and found nothing. He recalled the shadow outside the barn and almost jumped up and chased after it. But with Reggie lying at his feet injured and possibly concussed, he couldn’t leave her. Not with the distinct possibility that whoever had attacked her might come back to finish the job.

Chapter Four

Reggie stared up at the man leaning over her, blinking into a blinding light. “Do you mind not shining that thing in my eyes?”

“Sorry, darlin’.” He placed the flashlight on the ground beside her and laid his hands on her leg. “Other than the back of your head, are you hurt anywhere else?” His fingers worked their way up her calf, knee and thigh, igniting a trail of electric tingles all the way.

Shocked at her body’s response, she pushed his hands away. “I was hit in the head, not on the limbs.”

“The fall could have caused more damage.” He ignored her protests and swept his hands up the other leg and moved to her arms.

She stopped him just as his knuckles skimmed the side of her breast. “I said I’m fine, except for the splitting headache and overzealous first-aid care.” Her blood hummed through her veins and places low in her belly came alive. Anxious to put distance between them, she sat up. “Really. I’m okay.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” He stood, collected the flashlight and extended a hand to her. When she hesitated, he shook his head. “It won’t hurt to let me help you a little. Unless you’re afraid. I promise, I don’t bite.”

“I’m not afraid.” Nor was she in a hurry to touch the man whose hands had so easily stirred her blood.

“Well, you should be.”

She frowned, the movement causing more pain to her already hurting forehead. “Why would someone purposely hit me?”

“Why would someone put a fake snake in your path?”

“I don’t know. This is all ridiculous and too much like a conspiracy theory.” She gingerly touched the lump rising on the back of her head. “Ouch.”

“Are you going to take my hand or not?” He held it steady, daring her to take it.

Reluctantly she accepted his help and Angus pulled her to her feet.

Immediately, her vision blurred and she swayed.

His arm came up around her and he handed her the flashlight. “Hold this.” Before she could protest, he shoved the light into her hands and scooped her up into his arms.

“Put me down!” She wiggled to free herself from his hold, but he refused to let go.

“You’ve had a head injury. Let me get to the house. We might need to call the doc.”

“I tell you, I’m fine and I can get myself to the house.” She clutched the light with one arm and held on around his neck with the other as he limped toward the house. “You can’t carry me around. You’re limping. Put me down.”

His lips thinned and his hands tightened around her. “I can, and will, carry you to the house.”

She could sense the unspoken words of even if it kills me. The tight set of his jaw and the determined look in his eyes made her still and let the man carry her, despite the lumbering gait and the slight hesitation when he reached the stairs.

One slow step at a time, he climbed the stairs, the lines deepening around his eyes and forehead. He was totally concentrated on getting her into the house.

“What’s wrong with your leg?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“Look, you’re my employee. If something should happen, I need to know what to expect.”

“Not your concern. It won’t affect my ability to do the work.”

“Everything and everyone on this ranch is my concern.” Damn, the man was stubborn. Almost as stubborn as she was. Reggie leaned down, twisted the knob on the back door and swung it open. “Especially when you insist on carrying me.”

Without responding, Angus strode through the kitchen and into the living room, where he deposited her on the couch. “There, I’m not carrying you anymore.”

Reggie opened her mouth to argue the point, but Tad entered the room, his eyes widening.

“Mamma?” He ran forward and stood in front of her. “You’re hurt.” He stared up at Angus. “Did you hurt my mamma?” His little fists clenched and he appeared to be ready to throw himself at the ranch hand.

“No, Tad. Angus didn’t hurt me. I...fell and hit my head in the barn. Angus was good enough to carry me all the way into the house.” She added the last part through gritted teeth, still unhappy about that particular fact.

The boy’s face brightened and he hugged Angus’s leg. “You are a cowboy.”

Angus’s face reddened. He quickly bent to loosen the boy’s hold and held his hands as he stared down into the child’s upturned face. “As the men in the house, we have to take care of the womenfolk. And right now, we need to wash the wound.”

“I know where the bandages are. Mamma keeps them in her bathroom for when I have an owie.” He ran from the room, his face excited.

Angus glanced down at Reggie. “I’ll be right back, too.”

“I told you, I can take care of myself.” She started to rise.

Angus pressed a hand to her shoulder. “And disappoint your son when he’s all set to take care of his mamma?” He shook his head. “Stay put.”

Reggie didn’t like taking orders from anyone, especially the stranger in her house. But the way he’d handled Tad and taken the opportunity to teach him to care for others made her sit back and accept the help.

“Fine.” She crossed her arms. “For Tad.”

Angus left the room and strode down the hallway to the bathroom. The sound of water running reached her ears, as did Angus’s deep voice and Tad’s childish one. Unable to hear their conversation, it was all she could do to remain on the couch. What was he saying?

Tad led the way into the living room, proudly carrying the box of bandages with cute little dinosaurs printed on them.

Reggie smiled. This was her little man. The spitting image of his father. Her heart swelled and she reached out to take his hand. “Thank you, sweetie.”

“Angus is gonna clean the booboo and I’m gonna put the bandage on.” He glanced up at Angus as if to confirm.

“That’s right.” Angus gave her son a serious nod. “It’s an important job.”

Angus leaned over Reggie and dabbed carefully at the cut on her forehead. Her senses picked up on everything about the man. The breadth of his chest...so close to her face. The bulging muscles of his arms in the blue chambray shirt...the trim width of his hips in the faded blue jeans. He smelled of leather and outdoors, the two scents she found most attractive on a man.

She closed her eyes to block out the cowboy, but she couldn’t stop breathing. Each breath she took only added to her confusion. Why was she reacting to this man so much? She didn’t even know him.

She had known Ted all her life. They’d practically grown up together in the same small town.

Angus had showed up out of nowhere. She knew nothing about him other than he was sensitive about his limp and didn’t want her asking questions. What did he have to hide?

A little hand touched hers. “Does it hurt much, Mamma?”

She opened her eyes and smiled at Tad. “No, sweetie. I just didn’t want to get anything in my eyes.”

“All cleaned up. It’s your turn, Tad. Remember to be careful not to get your fingers all over the white part.” Angus leaned over him. “Here, let me show you.” With his big hands, he helped the boy’s little fingers open the individually wrapped package, peel the paper strips from the sticky adhesive and hold it out.

Together, they placed the bandage over the cut on Reggie’s forehead. When the bandage was in place, she carefully felt the bruised lump.

“Well done.” Angus stuck out his hand to shake Tad’s.

Tad stood tall, his shoulders back, a serious expression on his young face. Then her son turned and hugged her. “Is it all better?”

“Yes, baby.” Reggie returned the hug, her chest swelling with pride and an appreciation for the ranch hand who could have just done it all himself. Instead, he’d chosen to treat the event as a learning opportunity for her son.

Okay, so the man wasn’t just an annoying addition to her ranch. He might come in handy. Tad could use more strong, male role models, since his father wasn’t there to teach him certain things. Such as how to treat a lady.

Having shouldered most of the burden typically considered man’s work, she hadn’t really had the opportunity to teach her young son how to behave toward women. And he’d need those lessons in life as much as he’d need to know how to be strong, work hard and be accountable.

Angus backed away. “If you’re sure you’re okay, I’m going to check things out around the barn.”

She nodded. “Be careful. I don’t want you, uh—” her gaze shot to Tad “—bumping your head like I did.”

He nodded and left the room.

As soon as she heard the sound of the back door closing, Reggie rose from the couch. “Come on, it’s time for your bath and bed.”

“Ah, Mamma. Can’t I stay up?”

“You have school tomorrow and we have another chapter to read in your book about the ranch dog.”

She held out her hand and Tad slipped his into hers. “When can I have a dog? Angus has one.”

“When you’re old enough to take care of one all by yourself.”

“I’m old enough. I took care of you,” he pointed out.

She ruffled his hair. “Yes, you did. I’ll think about it.”

He skipped along beside her. “Can I name the dog Ranger?”

“We haven’t got one yet. Besides, Angus’s dog is named Ranger. Don’t you think you should give a dog his very own name?”

The conversation continued as it usually did, with Tad asking questions and making observations that surprised her at his level of maturity for a five-year old.

Reggie herded Tad through his bath, allowing him to play for a while before bundling him in a warm towel and clean pajamas. After he brushed his teeth, he climbed into his little bed and waited for her to read to him. This was one thing she’d always insisted on, even after Ted’s passing. Some things had to remain consistent to keep Tad on track with growing up normal and well-adjusted.

She settled on the edge of his bed, opened the book to the chapter she’d stopped at the previous night and read.

* * *

ANGUS TOOK RANGER outside with him and spent time circling the barn, searching for some indication of who had been inside and hit Reggie in the head. If he hadn’t been sure before, he was certain now. Someone was targeting Reggie. She needed protection. Perhaps he wasn’t the one to provide it. Why had Hank insisted he was the man for the job?

As he shone the flashlight at the ground around the exterior of the barn, phantom pain burst like a firecracker, shooting up his leg and throughout his body. He stopped for a moment and clenched his jaw until the pain eased.

Pushing aside the residual pain, he concentrated on the ground, searching for footprints. The ground was hard-packed except near the rear of the barn, where he’d hosed out the wheelbarrow earlier. Footprints made inch-deep wells in the mud. He set off in the direction they were heading and found a couple more. They were smaller than his own, but then, he was a big guy.

The trail led over the top of a small hill and down to a gravel road on the other side. It was not much more than a dirt path. He followed it to where it connected with the road leading up to the ranch. At the junction, he could see fresh tire tracks in the loose dirt. They were narrow and knobby, like those of a four-wheeler, and the direction they were heading was back toward town. Near the tracks, almost hidden by a bush, he found a four-foot length of weathered two-by-four with a smear of blood on it. His gut knotted as he lifted the board out of the brush.

Following the road much farther wouldn’t gain him anything. The best he could hope for was to make a trip to Fool’s Fortune the next day and do some nosing around. He wished he had the ability to lift prints from the board. Perhaps whoever had hit Reggie was in some criminal database. Hank might have connections.

In the meantime he needed to get back to the house and stay close to the family he was there to protect, in case Reggie’s attacker decided to return in the middle of the night.

Once inside, he shed his jacket and hung it on a hook on the wall beside the kitchen door. Though his leg ached and he needed to elevate it, he couldn’t until he felt confident Reggie and her son were okay. He spent time checking door and window locks and shooting the dead bolts home. They might have felt comfortable leaving doors unlocked in the past, but times had changed.

Reassured all the locks were in place, Angus headed down the hallway to his bedroom. As he passed an open door, he heard Reggie’s voice speaking softly.

He paused, liking this gentle side of the woman who’d been tough as nails since he’d arrived. Curious, he leaned through the doorway.

Reggie sat on the side of a twin-size bed covered with a quilt decorated with pictures of cowboy hats, cowboy boots, lassos and spurs. Tad lay beneath it, his head resting against the pillow, his eyes half closed.

“‘Poke, the ranch dog, barked at the bull, until the bull backed away from the boy.’”

“Poke wasn’t afraid, was he?” Tad mumbled sleepily.

“No, he wasn’t. He protected his boy from the bull.”

“When I get my dog, I’ll name him Poke.” Tad yawned and rolled onto his side, tucking his hand beneath his chin. “Until I get my own dog, do you think Angus would let me pet Ranger?”

“You need to ask Angus. Ranger was an army dog. He might not be used to little kids.”

“I’ll ask Angus in the morning.” Tad yawned again and closed his eyes. “Will you tell him to tuck me in when he comes back in?”

“I read you a book, but you’d rather have Angus tuck you in?” Reggie leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’ll tell him. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too.” Tad’s voice faded as he nestled into the blanket.

Reggie pulled the quilt up beneath his chin and stared down at the boy a few moments longer, love shining from her eyes.

Angus backed away from the doorway as quietly as he could and walked toward the kitchen, feeling as though he’d violated a private moment between Reggie and her son. But he wasn’t sorry he had.

The image of the tough ranch owner tucking her kid in like any loving mother would was seared into Angus’s mind. The woman had enough on her plate that she didn’t need to be plagued by some idiot trying to hurt her, or worse, kill her.

Anger boiled beneath the surface as Angus hovered in the kitchen long enough that Reggie wouldn’t suspect he’d been spying on her.

When he’d waited what he thought was enough time, he walked out of the kitchen and right into Reggie. His arms came up around her automatically to steady them both.

She squealed and braced her hands on his chest.

Angus chuckled. “This is becoming a habit.” Though neither one of them was at risk for falling, he was reluctant to let go of her. Her warm, soft body pressed against his was too tempting. She smelled like honeysuckle, bringing back memories of his happy childhood on a ranch in Texas.

“Anyone ever tell you that your hair is the color of hay?” he said before he could stop himself.

“Most women might count that as an insult,” she said, her voice a little breathless, probably from having been surprised by him.

“I think the color of hay is beautiful and that it represents stability and a plentiful harvest.”

Reggie smiled. “My thoughts exactly. So I’ll take your comment as a compliment.”

“As you should.”

Her back stiffened. “I believe I can stand on my own.”

“I know,” he said, staring into the prettiest blue eyes he could remember looking into. He wanted to tell her that, too, but he figured, following his last compliment, it might be too much, coming from a ranch hand. God, she smelled like home.

“You can let go of me now.”

He shook his head. “Sorry, darlin’.” Before he could think past the consequences, he cupped the back of her head and leaned in, his lips hovering over hers. “For some reason, I can’t seem to.” He wanted to kiss her, but more than that, he wanted her to want to kiss him. Instead of taking her lips, he left it up to her. His breath caught and held, waiting for her response.

For a moment she stiffened, her eyes widening. Her gaze shifted from his eyes to his lips. Then she melted against him and stood on her toes to close the distance, pressing her lips to his.

Once she did, there was no going back for Angus. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue in to claim hers in a long sensuous glide. She tasted of minty toothpaste, clean, fresh and sexy as hell.

Her fingers curled into his shirt and dragged him closer.

Angus’s hands slipped low on her back, holding her against the hard ridge of his arousal. At that moment he wanted this woman more than he’d wanted anything in his life. He slipped his hands down over her bottom and started to lift her—and a lightning bolt of pain ripped up his leg. He broke the kiss, sucking in a sharp breath and clenching his jaw to keep from yelling out.

“What’s wrong?” Reggie’s hand rested on his chest, her gaze on his face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” He pushed her to arm’s length. “I just...can’t...” He dropped his hands to his sides and backed away, limping more noticeably. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Her kiss-swollen lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m just as at fault, but I can assure you, it won’t happen again.” She turned to walk away.

Angus doubled over. He hadn’t felt an attack this strong in weeks and he struggled to beat it back. Hiding his pain was a losing proposition, but Angus bit down hard, refusing to show weakness.

Reggie stopped and turned back.

Angus straightened immediately, his stomach tightening.

Reggie stared at him for a minute, her eyes narrowing. Finally she sighed, “Tad wanted you to tuck him in. Don’t feel like you have to. He’s probably already asleep anyway.” With those parting words, she left him standing in the kitchen, alone with nothing but his pain as a reminder of all he’d lost.

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