Chapter 5
A gunshot rang out in the early-morning air.
Lottie quickly crouched beside the table where she’d been standing. With her heart racing, she motioned to Kace and Bo, who were sitting on the bench and watching Mimmi clean and bandage Jameson’s wound. “Get down in the safe room. Now.”
With rounding eyes, the two boys didn’t stop to question her. They scrambled forward, accustomed to the danger and disruption to their lives.
“You too, Mimmi.” Lottie tugged on the woman’s skirt as she finished securing the bandage.
“I’m almost done,” she whispered back.
But Jameson was already standing and slipping his arm back into his shirt—one of his own that buttoned up the front and was easier to get in and out of.
When he’d returned to the house shortly after the break of dawn, he’d brought back Dray’s shirt and thanked her politely for being able to use it, obviously having discovered his own belongings in the barn, where Enrique had left them with his horse.
Kace lifted the board aside and motioned at Bo to go ahead of him. Lottie was proud of Kace for looking out for his little brother and putting his safety first. But it also stabbed her heart again this morning, that a boy of four had to worry about dodging bullets and hiding in a dugout room.
“Your neighbor back?” Jameson directed his question to Lottie.
“Yes, it appears so.” Lottie scrambled on the floor toward the front window, where she’d left her gun. Enrique was making his way to the other window, where he usually took up position.
Thankfully, Mimmi lowered herself to her knees just as another shot rang out.
Jameson swiped up his rifle from the table. “What does he want?”
“My ranch.”
“How long’s he been doing this?”
“This is the fourth day.”
Jameson grimaced as he pulled the shirt on over his injured arm, but he didn’t lose a beat as he crossed to the front door and swung it open. Hatless and with his trousers riding low on his hips and his bare chest showing, he sighted down his rifle and took a shot.
A responding cry echoed in the air.
Abandoning her post at the window, Lottie scurried after him. Jameson shouldn’t be standing out in the open that way. She wasn’t sure how she would force him back inside. All she knew was that she had to try, that she couldn’t let him put his life in danger again on account of her ranch.
Before she could reach him, Jameson shifted his gun, took aim, and fired another shot. He did it several times before he lifted his gaze from his rifle barrel and scanned the perimeter. “Quit hiding like a coward and come out to air your grievances like a man.”
Halting at the side of the door and peering outside, Lottie could do nothing but hold her breath.
Jameson Noble was too daring. Either that or he didn’t value his life.
She was surprised when, a moment later, Vinnie stood up from his position behind a boulder. Her middle-aged neighbor looked worse for wear, his beard overgrown, his hair stringy and long, and his clothing in need of a washing.
His shooting hand was bandaged. Had he been injured by Jameson in last night’s gun fight? If so, it would serve him right.
“I don’t know who you are,” Vinnie said with his Southern drawl, “but this here dispute is between me and Lottie.”
“It’s Mrs. Wilkes to you.” Jameson’s voice was hard, and his finger dropped to the trigger of his rifle.
Behind Lottie, Mimmi had disappeared into the underground room, and Enrique was hurriedly sliding the floorboard into place.
Lottie tried to drag in a breath. At least the boys and Mimmi were safe.
“This has nothing to do with you,” Vinnie’s voice rang out defiantly.
Jameson’s arm muscles strained against the seams of his shirt. “It does now.”
Lottie took a step outside. If Jameson could face Vinnie, she could too. “You’re not taking my land, Vinnie. So go on home.”
Vinnie shifted his gaze from Jameson to her, and his gun followed suit.
With his free hand, Jameson latched onto her and dragged her so that she was positioned behind him. She understood that he was trying to keep her from becoming Vinnie’s next target, but she bristled at being treated like she was weak and couldn’t fend for herself.
“I’m fine, Jameson,” she said firmly as she stepped out of his grasp and moved to his side.
If not for his injured arm, he probably would have been able to hold her in place, but he released a mostly inaudible huff of pain as he dropped his injured arm away from her and back to his side.
Vinnie probably couldn’t tell Jameson was injured. His open shirt was covering his bullet wound and the bandage. He was also holding himself rigidly, his muscles still taut, his shoulders braced, his body unyielding. He was as intimidating today as he’d been when he’d first arrived at the house.
He closed one eye and sighted down his rifle. “Put the gun down, or I’ll shoot your other hand.”
Vinnie wavered for just an instant but then dropped the rifle to his side as he glared at her.
“We both know your crook of a father took most of the land from me.”
“We don’t know that.” It was actually possible Waverly Thorpe had stolen it at some point in the past. Her father had been a dishonest and conniving businessman. But she knew that Vinnie was crooked too and wouldn’t hesitate to lie and take something that didn’t belong to him.
“I told you I’m willing to pay you for the hassle of leaving.” Vinnie glanced at Jameson nervously.
“You never asked about buying my land when Dray was here. Why is that?”
“Dray was a nice fellow—”
“If it was really your land, wouldn’t you have confronted him too?”
“I didn’t want to bother him about it.”
“But it’s okay to bother me now because I’m a woman?” Bother didn’t even begin to describe the harassment.
Vinnie narrowed his eyes at her. “Women shouldn’t be running ranches for exactly this reason.” He nodded between her and Jameson.
She fisted a hand on her hip. “What reason are you referring to?”
“Because you’re easily distracted and led into temptation.”
“I assure you, I’m neither.” She shouldn’t have to defend herself, but for some reason, she felt a need to do so.
“Then why are you living in sin with this man?” Vinnie waved a hand at Jameson.
Beside her, Jameson stiffened. “You’re insulting the lady.”
Was Vinnie insinuating that she and Jameson were having illicit relations? She supposed Jameson running out of the house only half dressed did look as though he’d hastily donned his clothes after jumping out of her bed.
She wasn’t at her best either. She’d been in the middle of brushing her hair before plaiting it when Jameson had come back into the house a short while ago. She’d just changed her shirt but hadn’t tucked it in or donned a vest over it. Maybe she looked suspicious too.
A part of her wanted to blurt out that Jameson had unbuttoned his shirt so Mimmi could doctor his wound. But if she explained why Jameson wasn’t fully dressed, she would give away his injury and perhaps make them look more vulnerable.
“I hired this drifter to help on the ranch,” she said. “That’s all.”
“Is that right? Well, everyone knows your mother took in every stray drifter that wandered her way.” Vinnie tossed the comment her way with a smirk. “Like mother, like daughter.”
“That’s not true.” Anger flared to life inside her. “I’m nothing like her.”
“You need to go.” Jameson stepped forward, his stance menacing.
Vinnie shrugged. “Fine. Have it your way. She’ll grow tired of you, and you’ll move on. And when you do, I’ll be back to claim what’s mine.” With that, he stalked toward his horse, the few men he’d brought with him falling in behind him.
“I’ll never give you this land,” she called.
Was that really true? Could she hold out if Vinnie pressured her again? The past few days—actually, the past month—had been miserable. She didn’t want to put her sons through another ordeal with Vinnie after Jameson left.
Within minutes, Vinnie and his men were mounted and riding away. She stood next to Jameson and watched until they disappeared over a knoll.
“I don’t think he’ll come back for a while,” she finally said.
Jameson had narrowed his eyes and now turned his intense gaze upon her. “I’m sorry he insulted you. You didn’t deserve that.”
A strange need to cry seized her chest, and she never cried. But when had anyone—other than Mimmi—ever understood or cared about how she bore the brunt of so many insults as a result of her father and mother?
She swallowed the lump in her throat and stared off into the distance. She’d been shunned her whole life and was used to the insinuations. Even so, they still stabbed deep, especially the ones that compared her to her mother.
“I’ll make sure he knows he has to stay away from you,” Jameson offered quietly.
She shrugged. “That’s nice of you. But it’s not your responsibility.”
“And I’ll help you find more workers, men who will keep him from hassling you.”
“Or you can stay a while.” The words were meant to be a joke, but the moment she said them, she wished she hadn’t.
He didn’t respond, which was for the best.
She reached up and began to plait her hair. “I hired you to help for a month. That’s all I expect. All right?”
“Looks like you could use more than that.”
“My personal life and my private struggles are none of your concern.”
“When I got shot, they became my concerns.”
“I’m sorry you got shot.” She quickly finished the braid and then fished in her pocket for her ribbon. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll give you a bonus when you leave.”
Waverly Thorpe had not only left her the ranch, but he’d left her a sizable monetary inheritance as well.
Her mother had claimed it was only a fraction of what Waverly should have left her since he was so rich.
But the amount was more than sufficient for Lottie.
It meant she never had to worry about providing for her sons.
Even if the ranch had a bad year or failed altogether, she would always have her savings to live on.
“I don’t want a bonus.” Jameson started to button his shirt with his uninjured arm.
She heaved an exasperated sigh. “Then what do you want?”
Jameson didn’t answer her, and she didn’t blame him.
“I’m sorry.” She couldn’t take out her frustration at her own weakness and helplessness on him. That wasn’t fair. “I’ll be grateful for any help you give me in the short time you’re here.”
He finished buttoning his shirt, then surveyed the ranch yard. “Do you have any cattle left? Or have they all been rustled?”
“I’ve got two dozen longhorns and a few calves.”
“Where are you keeping them?”
“In a secluded vale near the spring on my land.”
“I’ll ride out and check on them.”
“Oh no you won’t.” She leveled her sternest look on him—the one she used for Kace and Bo. “You’re supposed to be in bed recovering.”
He scoffed. “You’d never catch me in bed during daylight even if I was dying.”
She held her hands on her hips and kept her glare on him. “The least you can do is stay off a horse and stick around here for a few days to give your arm a chance to heal.”
“I’m fine to ride—”
“Who’s the boss? You or me?”
His brow lifted as he met her gaze. The corners of his eyes crinkled, almost as if he was fighting back a smile. At least he hadn’t taken offense at her overbearing attitude.
“Enrique and I will ride out today.” She started back toward the house. “There’s plenty to do here, including keeping watch, just in case we get more unwanted visitors.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His acquiescence was soft and respectful.
Was he really giving in to her that easily?
She paused and glanced at him only to find that he was already striding toward the barn, the morning sunlight shining on his untamed hair, highlighting the sandy strands mixed in with the brown. He walked without a waver, his stride determined, almost as if he’d never been shot.
He was an interesting man, certainly nicer and more respectful than most ranch hands she’d hired. Of course, he was more good-looking than most of the other cowboys too. She could admit she’d admired his chest more than once last night and this morning when he’d been having his wound doctored.
Honestly, it was impossible not to notice that toned, muscular body of his. Any woman in her position would acknowledge the same thing and offer the appreciation due to such a fine specimen.
But admiration and appreciation were all she planned to offer a drifter like Jameson Noble. She’d let herself get carried away already with one good-looking drifter and had learned her lesson the hard way.
Men like Dray and Jameson might say all the right things, but ultimately, they couldn’t back up their words with actions.
The fact was, she was better off without a man in her life creating turmoil. And she couldn’t let herself forget that.