3. Jack
Jack
The Cowboy in Me by Tim McGraw
A rifle cracks through the air, sharp, sudden, and way too close.
Pesto jolts beneath me, muscles twitching, eyes wide. I tighten the reins, steadying him with one hand. “Easy, boy. Easy.”
But my gut’s already twisting.
I swing him toward the tree line, the border between Jessop land and Wilder Ranch, and we bolt.
The wind cuts past my ears as we tear across the pasture, hooves pounding the dirt like thunder. My heart feels like it’s beating just as loud.
Then another shot. Closer this time. I grit my teeth and push Pesto harder, every instinct in me locked on one thing: get there fast.
Because nothing good ever follows gunfire on ranch land. And if anything's happened to her…
God help whoever’s responsible.
Fuck.
I run through potential threats as I race across the field.
A pack of coyotes, a wolf, or maybe a wild bull.
Those are the best-case scenarios. The worst-case scenario is that Cami has completely gone and lost it and is ready to shoot me for all the hell I’ve given her over the years.
And to be fair, she’s given it right back.
But I’ll never stop worrying about Cami Kendrick. Hearing shots come from her property, I’ll be damned if I let that go.
I come up over the hill, and there she is, and my heart clenches.
Cami stands in the pasture, her wild dark hair flowing down around her shoulders. She’s wearing tan overalls with the butt of her rifle locked into the crook of her shoulder as she yells at someone on the ground. It looks like a human and not an animal.
Holy shit. My heart races a mile a minute as we barrel towards her.
“Cami!” I bellow, my voice barreling over the field.
Her head whips around, rifle still perfectly trained at the person on the ground. I flinch and reach for my shotgun holstered next to my saddle out of habit, but my hand freezes.
“Get out of here, Jessop!” she snaps, her voice angry. “I’ve got it under control.”
The bastard lunges for her.
I’m off Pesto and between them before the man on the ground can touch her. Adrenaline roars in my ears as I slam him down, boot planted hard against his chest.
He snarls up at me, drunk, sloppy, stupid.
I lean in, jaw tight. “Big mistake.”
Real big .
Because he just made it personal, lunging for her like that, never mind what he’s doing here in the first place.
The man sneers and falls back to the ground, muttering something about a “crazy bitch.” My boot digs into him just a little harder at that comment.
I recognize him as Granger, the neighbor to the north of Cami’s property.
Sun-leathered skin from years in the Wyoming sun, but not in a rugged cowboy way, more like rotten beef jerky left on the dash.
Greasy hair that he keeps shoved under a filthy ball cap.
He’s got yellow teeth and a voice like gravel soaked in bourbon.
A mean old son of a bitch my father was friends with.
“What are you doing here, Granger? You’re on the wrong side of the fence. ”
Granger spits in the dirt, lip curled like a rabid coyote. “This ain’t that bitch’s property no more. It’s the bank’s.”
Before I can speak, Cami points the rifle directly at him and squares her shoulders. “You’re trespassing.”
Her voice cuts through the air. Steady. Cold. Dangerous.
Jesus.
I keep my boot locked on Granger’s chest, but my eyes flick to her.
Hell, I really believe she’ll shoot this man.
“Cami,” I say carefully, “You need to call Sheriff Matthews.”
“No, I don’t,” she snaps. “That’s just witnesses. And evidence.”
She leans down and pokes Granger with the barrel. “I prefer to make this motherfucker fertilizer on the back pasture.”
Granger’s sneer drops straight off his face. The color drains out of him, and for a split second, I swear he’s about to piss himself. I think he just realized he’s in deep shit here.
And damn if I don’t feel a little proud. Right now, she’s the most terrifying woman in Wyoming.
“Get out of here,” I grunt, as I kick him hard with my boot. He scrambles to the property line and bolts over the fence, cursing as he goes. Cami fires another warning shot into the air, making him stumble as he runs. He turns and calls her every name in the book.
“Was that extra shot necessary?” I ask as I place my hands on my hips and give her a look. “You scared the shit out of me, Wilder.”
“Very necessary,” she huffs.
But I don’t miss the look in her eyes when I call her the childhood nickname she’s always loved.
“Why the hell are you here, Jessop?”Her eyes narrow, and I know she’s about to give me hell.
But I can’t focus on the words coming because I’m too stuck on how damn good she looks. White tank top clinging to her, overalls half-snapped and tucked into her boots like she threw them on in a hurry. She probably charged out here, ready to go to war. And I hate that she had to.
The thought of her chasing off a trespasser by herself out here, armed or not, makes something hard and cold settle in my chest. I’ll deal with that part later. Right now, I’m just trying to breathe around the sight of her, adrenaline still buzzing through me, hands itching to keep her close.
She clicks the safety on her rifle and props it casually against her hip, probably still coming down from an adrenaline rush as well.“Get out of here,” she says, now softer. “And mind your own damn business. I can take care of myself.”
And somehow, I’ve never wanted to kiss her more.
Or throw her over my shoulder and lock every gate on this ranch.
Because my business? Is her.
She stands glaring at me like she owns the world.
And she does own my world. Always has and always will. The crazy part is that she doesn’t even know it. Yet .
“You okay?” I ask, lowering my voice and ignoring her attitude.
“I’m fine,” she huffs, her chest still shaking.
“Next time, try not to shoot anyone before breakfast,” I tease as I watch her stalk back toward her barn. “At least try to make it to lunch.”
She says nothing but glares at me over her shoulder, breathing heavily. Damn it, I want to take her into my arms and hold her.
“What was Granger doing here?” I ask as I follow her, pulling Pesto with me, trying to get a handle on my own heart rate. It’s finally beating at a normal rate again now that I know she’s finally safe.
“He was poking around my barn, probably looking for shit to steal,” she calls over her shoulder.
Fucking Granger. I’ll be paying him a visit later.
“Don’t even think about telling Ollie about this,” she says as she glares at me.
But the glare doesn’t reach her eyes. Her warm brown eyes are still full of fear.
And that asshole Granger put that fear in her by creeping around on her property.
Yeah, he’ll pay for that, too. And I will be taking her brother with me when I pay that fucker a visit.
Someone has to look out for her, and we aren’t letting anyone mess with her.
“Where’s Love?” I ask, glancing around and realizing her Blue Heeler isn’t here. I love that dog, and she loves me, much to Cami’s dismay. Sometimes, when I’m out working in our connecting pastures, she comes and finds me.
“I locked her in the barn when I took off after Granger. He had a hunting knife in his pocket he thought he’d introduce me to, and I don’t trust her not to bite him, and then he’d hurt her.”
I stare at her, mouth dropped, then shake my head in anger and say, “I meant what I said earlier. We need to call the sheriff. ”
She snorts. “Why? It’ll take him at least half an hour to get out here. I’ll deal with these fuckers myself.”
I practically choke on air. “ These fuckers? How long has this been going on, Cami?” I ask angrily. “This has happened before?”
Oh, hell no.
She shrugs, “A few times. They think they can pick this ranch clean as if I’m not still here. Love chases them off, and I have to get after them. I don’t want them hurting her.”
Damn. I don’t like this at all.
“You need someone staying out here with you. Let me help you.”
She looks at me. “We’re not friends, Jessop. I’ve got it covered.”
“We’ll see about that,” I mutter, turning and getting back on my horse before she can say anything. She yells something behind me, but I don’t listen as I ride the fence line home in case someone else wants to mess with Wilder Ranch.
Nobody is messing with Cami. Not on my watch.
Cami is my kryptonite. The only woman I’ve ever truly loved.
Too bad she’s too damn stubborn to realize it.
“What happened in the east pasture this morning?” Hank, my head ranch wrangler for the Jessop Ranch, asks.
Hank’s in his sixties and probably should have retired a long time ago, but he loves cowboying.
He’s the epitome of a Wyoming cowboy. He’s got white hair, tanned skin, and a kind smile.
This ranch has gone through a lot of changes, but Hank will never be one that we lose.
He’ll always have a home here. We’re his family, and he’s been here from day one.
He’s always been one to keep his head down and work hard.
He didn’t see eye-to-eye with our dad, but he was good to all of us kids. He’s like a grandfather to us.
He joins me as we watch a few horses work in the pen. “I saw you take off like a bat out of hell.”
“Old man Granger was over on the Wilder side, causing trouble.”
He turns and looks at me, surprised. “And he’s still alive? Got both his balls and everything?”
“For now. Unless he gets another idea to try to come on her land again. She shot at him. Twice.”
Hank shakes his head. “Glad she has you, boss. I don’t like how the vultures are swarming on the Wilder Ranch. It’s a shame, and Cami doesn’t deserve that,” he grumbles.
“No, she doesn’t. And you make sure every hand here on Jessop ranch knows that we protect the Wilder Ranch and their land,” I say as I push off the fence and stride toward the barn.