Montana Hearts (12 page)

“Guess who I saw when I went to pick up the building permit at your father's office?” he asked. When she shook her head, he continued. “A.J. Malloy. He said he's building a new stable for his rodeo champion.”

Sammy Jo laid her head back on his shoulder and looked up at him. “He's all talk, talk, talk.”

Luke shrugged. “Ryan says the guy has his eye on you.”

“I assure you,” Sammy Jo said, and laughed. “The feeling isn't mutual.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” she told him, her voice turning silky soft. “I've got my eye on someone else.”

Luke grinned. He'd hoped she'd say that. More heat flooded over him along with a surge of adrenaline the likes he hadn't felt in a long while. However, this wasn't the time or place for either of them to lose focus. He cupped her chin and turned her head toward the corral. “You're supposed to have your eye on the cows.”

Sammy Jo sucked in her breath and pointed. “Luke, what's that?”

His gaze shot to the open field beyond the corral and he heard the faint drum of the truck's motor the same time he saw the dim headlights.

Sammy Jo jumped up and whipped her cell phone from her pocket, then tossed it to Luke. “Call 911,” she said, moving away from him. “Then call your family and the Tanners and let them know what's going on.”

“Where are you going?” he hissed.

“I'll be right back,” she told him. “I just want to get close enough to take a look at their license plate.”

He stumbled as he leaned on his cane for support and tried to hoist himself onto his feet.
“Sammy Jo!”

She ran over to the paddock in front of them, and pulling a halter off the gate, she went in, slipped the straps over the nose of the nearest horse, and hopped on bareback.

“
No!”
he shouted, scrambling toward her.

She wasn't looking at him, but was focused on the men getting out of the truck in the field opposite the corral about five hundred yards away.

They'd miscalculated which direction the cattle rustlers would come from. Both times before, they'd entered from the Owenses' vacant property and exited out through Sammy Jo's toward the road. This time, however, it appeared they'd done just the opposite, which put Luke and Sammy Jo quite a distance from where they'd wanted to be.

Luke squinted and could just barely make out her silhouette as she wove in and out along the tree line. But then her horse let out a high-­pitched neigh, and one of the dark figures in the field shouted a warning to the others. A second later, a small beam of light flashed toward her, and with a sickening sensation tightening his gut, Luke realized Sammy Jo had been caught.

For a second, fear for her life knocked the breath right out of him. Then his gaze fell on the rehab horse not twenty feet away.

Without thinking of anything except Sammy Jo, he half ran, half limped forward, grabbed Prince's halter, slipped it on, and commanded him to bow. A sharp twinge ripped through Luke's leg and shot up his side as he swung onto the animal's back, but he clenched his teeth and ordered the horse to stand.

For there was
nothing
he wouldn't do for her. Not in days past, not now, or in the foreseeable future. And there was nothing that was going to stop him from making sure Sammy Jo did not get hurt.

S
AMMY
J
O FOUGHT
back as three of the black-­masked men pulled her off the horse and pushed her to the ground.

“Your daddy wouldn't like it if he found you out here,” one of them drawled, grabbing hold of her wrist.

Sammy Jo's heart raced. They knew her father. Then again, everyone in this small town knew who both she and her father were. Still, it proved they were locals.

She'd caught a glimpse of the truck's plates and, sure enough, it was the truck that belonged to Harley Bennett, though she couldn't be sure if he was the one talking to her. All of their voices came out muffled from beneath the black hooded ski masks.

“What are we going to do with her? Take her with us?” the man in the driver's seat asked.

“I don't know. This wasn't part of the plan,” said the guy who held on to her.

“Well, make up your mind,” said one of the other three who loaded six of the Collinses' cows into the back of the cattle trailer. “We don't have all night.”

The thunder of hooves froze everyone in their tracks.

“What's that?” one of the rustlers by the cows called out.

“Someone's coming,”
the driver warned.

The rustlers spoke among themselves so fast Sammy Jo couldn't figure who was saying what, but the words she made out filled her with hope.

“What if it's him?” asked one.

“Who?” asked another.

“The Legend,”
a sharp whisper shot out.

“Impossible. Heard that cowboy's now a cripple with a cane. There's no way he can ride.”

Sammy Jo jerked her head toward the intensifying sound, and wondered if she dared use the distraction to jump up and attempt an escape.

A second later her captor shoved a rifle against her chest, and she didn't dare move.

L
UKE USED THE
cover of darkness to his advantage as long as he could by staying within the tree line like Sammy Jo had tried to do. Then he urged his horse forward and rode into the open at a full gallop.

After one bloodcurdling glimpse of the rustler who threatened Sammy Jo, Luke swung his cane and knocked the gun away from the man's hands with a sharp
thwack
. Then Luke dropped the reins, and slid off his horse like he'd done a thousand times during his rodeo days, and wrestled the man to the ground like a bull.

“I thought you said he couldn't ride,” a distant rustler's voice shouted as Luke drew back his arm and punched the man beneath him.

“Move out! Now!” called another voice.

The man beneath Luke pushed him aside, rolled, then got up on his feet. So did Luke. The man stood halfway between him and the truck, and for a moment Luke thought the rustler meant to come after him and return the punch.

Then the trailer behind the man pulled away and after a brief hesitation the rustler turned, ran, and jumped into the back of the pickup.

“Luke?”

Hopping on his good foot, Luke spun around and Sammy Jo ran toward him. She appeared unharmed, except for the tears streaming down her face and the fact she trembled from head to toe. His heart wrenched as her vulnerable gaze met his and he suddenly realized he was trembling as well.

Then in one, swift, fluid motion he scooped her into his arms and seared her with a kiss so hot it could have melted the ground beneath them. Warning bells went off in his head, but the burst of adrenaline pumping through his veins robbed him of all thought except the fact she was safe . . . and her lips held the faint taste of strawberries.

As his breathing slowed, the image of the gunman holding a rifle to Sammy Jo's chest shook him to his senses and he pulled his mouth away from her.

“What did you think you were doing?” he demanded.

“
Me?
What did you think
you
were doing?” she countered, her incredulous expression boring into him. “You could have hurt your leg even worse than before. You could have—­”

He cut her off with another kiss, except this time it was a little softer, less demanding, and held more promise.

Sammy Jo's hands wrapped around the back of his neck, and when the second kiss ended she smiled up at him. “What are
we
doing?”

Luke held her gaze for a brief second and said, “What we've both wanted to do for a while now.”

“You've wanted to kiss me?”
she asked.

He nodded, and grinned, then dipped his head to kiss her sweet, tender lips . . . one more time.

 

Chapter Nine

L
OOKING BACK,
S
AMMY
Jo saw she'd been foolish to take the horse. She should have gone on foot. But she'd been afraid she wouldn't get there in time to see the rustlers' license plate. And although she was certain that one way or another she could have escaped her captors on her own, she was perfectly content to let Luke take the credit.

Especially after he'd mounted the rehab horse and endured the pain she knew he must have suffered on her behalf. Her heart
still
pounded from seeing him ride in like a white knight to “save” her.

She smiled, and her mind dreamily relived the scene again and again. Never had Luke looked more dashing, more heroic, more fully alive, than in that moment. And afterward, when they kissed . . . and his arms held her close . . . the accompanying burst of sensations that shot through her body, igniting all her senses, confirmed more than ever that she'd been right—­Luke
was
her man!

“Miss Macpherson, do you think this is funny?” the sheriff questioned. Sheriff McKinley and his deputy had arrived close to three a.m. to take their statements and write a report.

“No, of course not,” Sammy Jo said, dropping her smile. Heat rushed into her cheeks as she realized the two officers had been staring at her. “My mind wasn't on the rustlers. I was thinking of something else.”

Luke glanced her way and grinned, as if he could guess what that “something” might be. Was he reliving the kisses they'd shared, too? She had wondered if he'd back away from her in front of his family, but he continued to hold her hand with everyone present. And from the direction of Bree's and Delaney's wide-­eyed gazes, it was obvious her friends had noticed.

Focus
, she told herself,
right now we have rustlers to catch
. “I saw their license plate,” Sammy Jo announced, and dropped Luke's hand to scribble the digits on the deputy's notepad. “The truck belongs to Harley Bennett.”

“Harley called in a few minutes ago and reported his truck stolen,” the sheriff informed her.

“Of course he did,” Sammy Jo said. “He's trying to avoid being arrested.”

“He said about two hours ago he woke up and thought he heard a noise outside. He didn't think too much of it at first and fell back asleep. Then when he awoke a second time, he went out, found his truck missing, and called the station.”

“I suppose his truck just happened to be hooked up to the cattle trailer at the time, too?”

The sheriff nodded. “Yes, he did say that.”

“You don't believe him, do you?” Sammy Jo pressed. “Can't you see he's guilty?”

“Not without proof,” Sheriff McKinley said, glancing around the room at each of them. “We can point fingers all night, but without any kind of hard evidence, I can't make any arrests.”

“What
can
we do?” Bree demanded.

“We can remove the hay from the hay barn and lock the cattle inside at night,” Luke suggested.

“What if the rustlers steal our hay or light it on fire again?” Bree argued.

“Better to lose the hay than the cows,” their father stated, backing Luke.

“We'll need to keep all the horses inside their stalls at night, too,” Delaney added. “And install security cameras on each of the main buildings.”

“A security system will cost more money,” their ma fretted.

“Money well-­spent,” Grandma Collins countered. “We need to do whatever it takes to stop these scoundrels, right, Luke?”

He nodded. “Whatever it takes.”

A vibration in her pocket alerted Sammy Jo she had an incoming text and she withdrew her cell phone and glanced at the screen.

Where are you?

With an inward groan, she said, “I have to go. My father has discovered I'm not home in bed, and I really do need a few hours' sleep before I have to work.”

“No sense sleeping now,” Jed Collins grumbled. “Luke and I should get started moving that hay.” Then he hesitated, glanced at Luke, and added, “If you're up for it.”

Luke's expression hardened. “I'm fine. Let's get started.”

Sammy Jo turned toward Luke, expecting him to do or say something. Maybe kiss her goodbye?

But his father motioned him toward the door and Luke moved to follow.

She stepped toward him. “Luke?”

He glanced back at her over his shoulder.

“We'll talk later?” she asked, hating the desperation in her voice.

He gave her a partial grin and said, “Yep.”

His one-­word answer wasn't very satisfying, but there was nothing else she could do for now. She'd just have to keep reliving the kiss in her mind and be satisfied with the progress she'd made so far. The three kisses they'd shared would surely lead to many more, and in another few months?

Why, he might even
propose
!

L
UKE FROWNED A
ND
cast his father a sharp glance as they walked down the path toward the hay barn. “I rode.”

His father nodded. “I heard.”

“Soon I'll be able to help Ryan lead the weekend roundups and you won't have to treat me like an invalid anymore.”

“I wouldn't have asked you to help with the hay if I thought you were an invalid,” his father muttered, his tone gruff with annoyance.

Luke stopped walking and clenched the handle of his cane. “I just don't live up to your expectations, is that it?”

His father took a few more steps, then stopped, turned around, and faced him. “You're a man, of course I expect more from you than your sisters.”

“I've always worked twice as hard as anyone, even
you
.”

“Then you left me to do all the work myself so you could go off and do your own thing,” his father said, narrowing his eyes. “This is supposed to be a family business.”

“Families are supposed to trust each other and treat each other with respect. I figured if you meant to keep ordering me about, I might as well join the army.”

“I never wanted you to leave,” his father spat. Then he scowled. “I jus' wanted to make sure you grew up to be responsible, make the right decisions, so you could run the whole ranch on your own one day.”

Luke hesitated. “Me? Run Collins Country Cabins on my own? What about Bree and Delaney?”

His father dismissed them with a wave of his hand. “I always knew Bree would move to the city and follow her dreams to have a big fancy career. I didn't expect her to come back, but now that she did, it hasn't changed anything. She'll marry Ryan and they'll have their own ranch to worry about.”

Luke hadn't given Ryan and Bree's engagement much thought, but realized his father was right. Even though Grandma had given each member an equal share of Collins Country Cabins, Bree's work here would most likely be temporary. After she was married and became Cody's new mom full-­time, she might even have babies of her own. And with horses to train and the Tanner cattle ranch to help run . . .

“What about Delaney?” Luke asked. “She has nowhere else to go. Her ex-­husband isn't even paying child support for Meghan. She needs this ranch to work even more than the rest of us.”

“A temporary situation,” his father assured him. “Delaney's a sweet, young, beautiful girl with her whole life ahead of her. It won't be long before some handsome cowboy strolls into town and turns her head. Then she'll be married and taking off to care for her own horses, or open an animal rescue center, or launch a ‘save the bears' campaign. She's always been more interested in the wildlife outside, rather than the ­people inside this place.”

“That's true,” Luke admitted.

“And when Grandma's gone and your ma and I can no longer care for the guest ranch, who do you think we'll want to take over?” his father demanded.

Luke stared at him, unable to believe his father had wanted to prepare him and not punish him. “I didn't think you'd
ever
let anyone take control of the ranch.”

His father scoffed. “Well, after you left, I gave partial control to Susan and Wade Randall and look at the mess that made. I trusted them and they nearly destroyed us.” His father chuckled. “I figure you can't do much worse.”

This time when his father cast the insult, Luke knew he was joking and he grinned with him. “No, I reckon not.”

Then his father did something he'd never done before. He laid a hand on Luke's shoulder, looked him in the eye, man-­to-­man, and said, “I trust you.”

Luke nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He'd never imagined he'd be having this conversation, or if he had, that it would turn out this way.

After a long moment, he swallowed the lump that had risen in the back of his throat, and said, “Thanks, Dad.”

S
AMMY
J
O CRO
SSED
the Collins-­Macpherson border and frowned. She'd expected to see her new gate or another piece of the fence cut, run down, or destroyed. Instead, she found everything intact except the gate had been left open, and the padlock—­unscathed—­now hung loose from the latch. But if she and her father were the only ones with a key, how had the rustlers managed to open it?

When her house came into view, she saw her father waited for her outside and she raised her brows. “Did someone steal your keys?”

“No,” he said, his tone full of disgust. “I'm outside because I wanted to keep a lookout to make sure you got home safe.”

“Then how did the rustlers open the lock on the gate?”

He narrowed his gaze. “Rustlers? What are you talking about?”

She bit her lip. She should have thought ahead before she'd spoken. Now she'd have to tell him what happened. Or at least part of it. She'd keep the details of her capture and Luke's magnificent, romantic rescue to herself so she wouldn't alarm him any more than necessary.

“Five men drove off the road and crossed through our property to steal six more of the Collinses' cows. Somehow they opened the new padlock we put on the gate. I have my key right here,” she said, patting her jeans pocket. “Where's yours?”

He patted his own pockets, front and back, and gave her a puzzled look.

“It's missing?” she asked.

He hesitated. “I thought I had them in my pocket, but let me check the house.”

After they both searched every countertop, drawer, nook, and cranny, Sammy Jo placed her hands on her hips and said, “I think the rustlers stole your keys. Where were you the last time you had them? Did you leave them on the picnic table outside?”

“No. They never left my side. Except when—­”

“Yes?” she prompted.

Her father frowned. “I let Winona drive my truck into town because she was having car trouble and said she needed to pick up a new battery.”

“It was her!” Sammy Jo exclaimed. “I knew something wasn't right about that woman.”

Her father reached into the pocket of one of his lightweight jackets hanging on a peg by the door, and when he pulled his hand back out, he held up his key ring. “I think you owe Winona an apology. I have them right here.”

Sammy Jo scrambled to come up with an explanation. “She must have got an extra key made when she was in town and then gave it to the rustlers.”

“Why on earth would she do that?” he argued.

Wasn't it obvious? “Because she's
in on it
! Winona Lane is working with the cattle rustlers.”

“Samantha Josephine!” her father thundered. “How dare you toss accusations like that at an innocent lady.”

“She's not here,” Sammy Jo pointed out.

“Yes, but I am,” he said, his tone indignant. “And I happen to care about Winona very much.”

“You hardly know her. You've only been dating for, like, what? Two months?”

“Your friend Bree got engaged after only knowing that Tanner fellow six weeks.”

Sammy Jo gasped. “They've known each other all their lives, and you are not thinking of asking that banker woman to marry you, are you? Because, in case you have forgotten, you're still married—­
to Mom
.”

She and her father stared each other down for what seemed like several hours. In reality it probably lasted only a few short seconds.

“The rustlers may have got hold of the keys somehow while they were in Winona's possession,” Sammy Jo conceded.

“They could have manipulated her without her even knowing what they were doing,” her father agreed, then his stubborn expression changed to one of worry. “I hope she's not in any danger. Maybe she should have her nephew stay with her.”

“Who's her nephew?”

“A.J. Malloy.”

Sammy Jo remembered Luke questioning her about him. She'd even thought Luke sounded a little jealous when he said A.J. was interested in her. She often ran into the cowboy on the rodeo circuit and he seemed like a nice guy, just not her type. She didn't think A.J. was the type to steal the Collinses' cows either, but the rustlers had called Luke by his old nickname, “The Legend,” so it had to be
someone
they knew.

She'd talk to A.J. Malloy and see if he could have been one of the men who had captured her. But for now, she whipped out her cell phone to talk to Luke—­and warn him that his past rodeo pal could be a prime suspect.

L
UKE STA
RTED THE
tractor and helped his father transport the hay from the barn to an area along the edge of the parking lot. They'd thought the location would be safer than any other since it was closer to the house and easier to keep an eye on.

Once the barn was empty, they pulled tarps over the hay to protect the bales from unfavorable weather and secured the tarps with a few heavy rocks. Luke had always worked hard before, but after his talk with his father, he worked with renewed vigor and saw the ranch in a whole new light. Collins Country Cabins wasn't just his family's guest ranch. It was his future. And these intruders, or rustlers, or whoever they were . . . were messing with it.