Part 5 (2/2)
”Is that what Buck says?” He muttered something under his breath she couldn't hear and was glad of it. He pulled off his hat and raked a hand through his hair in obvious frustration. ”Dammit, woman, don't you know you're in over your head?”
She said nothing. If this evening were any indication, she had a pretty good idea of what she'd gotten herself into.
He shoved his hat back on his head. ”You're making a very big mistake and so is your accomplice.” With that, he turned and stalked toward the camp.
As she watched McCall's perfect posterior walk away from her, she felt a stab of real doubt. Was he right? Was she wasting her time? Would he ever ever agree to the commercial? agree to the commercial?
She tried hard not to think about daybreak or eggs or this accomplice he suspected. But if she hadn't taken his stupid distributor cap he kept talking about, then someone had. But who? Buck? Was he trying to help her?
Or was there someone else in the camp who didn't want her or anyone else leaving tonight?
She s.h.i.+vered as she hurried back toward the lights of the cabin, afraid she really had gotten in over her head this time.
IN THE WEE HOURS of the morning, J.T. woke to the sound of someone walking around outside his tent. He slipped quietly from his sleeping bag, pulled on his jeans and boots and stepped out of the wall tent. Clouds hung low over the pines, making the night even darker, as if someone had dropped a blanket over the mountaintop. The last embers of the campfire cast an orange glow between the tents and the cabin. Beyond was blackness.
The horses whinnied softly in the corral. He looked in the direction of the line shack, suddenly worried about Reggie. Was it possible that she and one of the cowhands were in this together? But she hadn't known any of the ranch hands before yesterday. Or had she?
He'd just a.s.sumed that she'd conned one of them into helping her once she got to the cow camp. But what if the plan had nothing to do with a TV jeans commercial? Then what? Rustling? That had been the plan nine years ago.
J.T. heard the creak of a porch floorboard and worked his way through the pines to the opposite side of the structure.
The darkness was complete, the air heavy and cold. He could see his breath as he worked his way along the side of the cabin.
He'd just reached the porch railing along the side when he spotted a ghostlike figure at the edge of the trees. He froze, pretty sure he couldn't be seen from where he stood in the darkness.
The figure took a few tentative steps deeper into the woods. There was no mistaking the size, shape or the way she moved. Reggie. She leaned forward into the pines as if looking for something. Someone?
As she stepped deeper into the darkness and trees, he lost sight of her, but he could hear her whispering to someone.
He cursed himself. Who was she talking to? The person who had disabled the truck? He let out a silent oath as he realized this might have been a setup from the get-go. Had she known he'd be going into town yesterday and been waiting for him with that flat tire? No man could have driven past her, not the way she looked. But why go to so much trouble? So she could end up at his line shack. Her and her accomplice.
He told himself he was being paranoid, but then was reminded of the dead cow, the missing distributor cap, the feeling he couldn't shake that the incidents were just the tip of the iceberg.
She came back out of the pines, barefoot, tiptoeing, holding up the hem of her long white nightgown. The fabric hugging her curves, leaving little to the imagination.
He cursed the effect it had on him as he watched her run back inside the line shack and quietly close the door and lock it, and hated to think what effect she had on whoever she'd been meeting in the woods.
He stayed hidden for a long while, waiting to see who came out of the trees. No one did. But the person she'd been talking to could have sneaked back around to his wall tent easily enough without being seen.
”Everything all right?” Buck whispered drowsily as J.T. reentered into the wall tent.
J.T. hoped so. ”Just checking things,” he said, slipping into his sleeping bag on the cot. He lay there staring up into the darkness, listening to the soft whinny of the horses, the whisper of the night breeze in the pines, the occasional pop of the dying campfire, wondering who the h.e.l.l Reggie was and what she really wanted with him. Also who she'd roped into helping her.
He had no way to check out her story-or her. Nor could he find out more about the men Buck had hired. Not until he returned to the ranch and that would be days from now. Too late. Even if he owned a cell phone, it didn't work up here. There was no service even in Antelope Flats.
As he lay there, he couldn't help but think about the cattle roundup nine years ago. That one had been cursed, Buck used to say. ”Weren't n.o.body's fault what happened up at that line shack. Sometimes things just happen and no one on this earth can stop it.”
J.T. didn't believe that any more than he believed in curses. But he did believe there was evil in the world, evil in some men, and he knew only too well what could happen when you put a handful of strangers in an isolated place miles from civilization and that evil showed up with a grudge and a knife.
He closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep. In the dream, a woman in a bright red dress danced while behind her the line shack burned, flames shooting into the black night sky and a man stood in the darkness watching her, waiting.
J.T. WOKE to the smell of smoke. Through the canvas of the wall tent, he heard the crackle of flames and saw the glow. Fire!
He rolled over. Buck's cot was empty. He must have already gotten up and left for town.
Heart racing, J.T. pulled on his jeans and boots and lunged out the tent door headlong into the steel-gray morning, convinced one of the wall tents or the line shack was on fire.
Will Jarvis looked up in surprise beside the campfire.
J.T. stumbled to a stop, his pulse thundering in his ears as he tried to calm himself. The line shack wasn't on fire nor the other wall tent. History wasn't repeating itself.
”Everything all right?” Will asked, his tone almost mocking.
J.T. knew he must have looked like a fool the way he'd come barreling out of his tent. He glanced toward the line shack. Dark.
He pulled on his jacket as he walked over to the fire, needing the warmth and taking the opportunity to find out what he could about Will Jarvis.
”Smells like snow,” Will said, sniffing the breeze before turning to warm his hands over the fire.
”Let's hope not,” J.T. said, his mood not improving. He was tired and cranky. What little sleep he'd gotten had been haunted with nightmares. He hadn't been able to get Reggie off his mind, especially after seeing her sneaking out to talk to someone in the middle of the night.
Obviously there was more going on than he knew. The sooner he got her off this mountain, the better.
With luck, Buck would be back before noon. J.T. had told Reggie last night that she had to cook breakfast. Fortunately, it was only a threat. He'd make breakfast and by the time he got back in the evening for supper, the new cook Buck found would have dinner ready and Regina Holland would be history.
So why did he feel so disagreeable this morning? Because he couldn't forget that someone had helped Reggie. Possibly someone in this very camp. He couldn't forget that Reggie had been talking to someone in the woods last night. An accomplice. But an accomplice to what?
He took a deep breath of the morning air. Will was right. The weather was changing. It wouldn't be long and snow would blanket these mountains and stay for the long winter months to come.
”You been on a lot of cattle roundups?” J.T. asked Will, trying not to sound suspicious. But he was suspicious of all the cowhands now and there was something about Will....
”I've been on my share.”
”What ranches?”
Will looked over at him and shook his head. ”Some in Colorado and Wyoming. None you would know.”
J.T. wanted to be the judge of that. He waited.
”The Pine b.u.t.te, the Triple Bar Three, Big Spring Station.”
All ranches J.T. had heard of. All ranches pretty much anyone would have heard of. Which meant Will could be lying through his teeth, knowing there was no way to check....
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