Serenity's Deception (Texas Sorority Sisters Book 1) (14 page)

W
hat in the world is that fool woman doing out here?”

BJ. In the flesh. Knee-deep in his Costal Bermuda, cutting a path in the direction of the old swimming hole.

When Jason first saw her, he thought she was a figment of his imagination. But when she turned with her camera and tripod in hand, heading out across the field, he knew his figment was BJ in the flesh. He’d like nothing better than to give her a piece of his mind for being out here alone.

Bad enough that she had plagued his dreams, and unable to erase her from his thoughts he’d opted to work the range alone, but even that proved unsuccessful. Here she was—walking in the pasture among his cattle as big as life, where she had no business.

Without a doubt, washing her from his mind was proving harder than washing a dirty shirt with a stubborn stain—always visible. He drew the line at his ranch. She had no business here.

Pulling his hat snug over his forehead, he gave a clicking sound and a slight jab of his heels. Sandy’s ears perked up. She increased her ambling gait into a slow easy gallop. The smooth fluid strides of the strawberry roan gave him pleasure. The horse, in tune with Jason’s slightest command, cut the distance between them and BJ.

By the fence and a few feet away from BJ’s car, Jason caught a glint of metal coming from behind a large bush by an oak. At first he thought it nothing, but when Beauregard gave a deep roar of pain, bucked, tucked his head, and then charged straight for BJ, he knew she was in danger. Jason didn’t want to think what would happen if he didn’t get to her first.

BJ looked back, screamed, and then started running. The worst thing she could do.

“
Yehawww!
” The yell and the spur with his heel, harder this time into Sandy’s flank, had the filly moving at top speed within seconds. He knew Sandy to be quick, but wasn’t sure if she would be fast enough to get between BJ and Beauregard. He hadn’t heard the sound of a gun, yet he knew the bull would never have chased BJ on his own accord. Someone had to have shot his prize bull to cause the reaction Jason had just witnessed.

Yelling at the top of his lungs and using the same calls he did while out gathering stubborn strays, Jason waved his hat into the air then slapped it against his leg, doing his best to draw the bull’s attention.

Nothing diverted Beauregard from his target. The old boy continued chasing BJ with a purpose and he was gaining ground. Jason could tell the bull thought the cause of his pain was the moving figure in front of him.

White-faced and staring at Jason as though he was a hallucination, BJ’s legs pumped at top speed and yet she was losing ground. One of her fists punched the air and the other was in danger of losing the tenuous grip on the tripod and camera that beat the side of her thigh and knee.

Jason slapped his hat on his head, spurred Sandy on to cross in front of the angry bull. He swooped down, grabbed BJ, dragging her up against the side of his horse. They crossed the path in front of the startled Beauregard.

The old bull stopped, bellowed, giving them one long, hard stare, then ambled back to his harem of heifers.

Jason pulled on the reins halting Sandy, allowing BJ to slide down the flanks of the roan. She slumped to the ground never losing her grip on the tripod, then looked up at Jason with huge, shocked eyes.

 “What happened?”

“What are you doing in this pasture? Wasn’t the gate locked?” He gave her a look that, when seen, most of his ranch hands knew to scramble and get out of his way.

BJ sat there, shaking, staring at him as though she didn’t understand what he’d said.

“You could have been killed.” Jason knew he was hollering but the confounded woman had no idea how close she had come to being gored by the best prized bull in the county. One swift motion had Jason off of Sandy and his boots spread apart and planted solidly in front of a hapless looking BJ. So mad, he wanted to shake her.

“I should turn you over my knee and beat some sense into that pea-brain of yours. What in …”

One glance at her surrounded by grass, face still white, the words stuck in his throat. She looked pitiful with her ponytail hanging loose and about to cry. The gloss of tears edging her lashes pierced his armor as nothing else could do. And when the slight breeze caused a few golden strands to flow about her face he wanted to kiss her and make it better.

Stooping beside her, he inhaled deeply the soft fragrance of her shampoo mixed with fear.

“Oh, come here.” He brushed the hair from her eyes, held open his arms, and BJ flew into his chest almost knocking him over. The tripod slammed into his back. He did his best not to groan, but he knew he’d sport a purple bruise where the weight of the camera had bounced off his spine.

The sensation of her trembling against him made him realize … she felt good, soft in his arms, and he liked holding her close. He memorized the familiar smell and feel of her. Almost like the years had been rolled back and they were teenagers again.

For several moments he allowed himself the luxury of holding her close to him until he noticed she wasn’t as pliable. In fact she had stiffened in his arms.

He pulled back and witnessed distress in her eyes. Standing, figuring the change in her was due to him, he watched her transformation from shock to deep embarrassment turn into something else. Her fright replaced with a look of what? Terror? Abhorrence? Disgust? He wasn’t sure, but it had his blood boiling for giving her comfort in the first place.

She scrambled up off the ground, dusted her jeans with her free hand, then opened the legs of the tripod so it would stand on its own. With one graceful movement, she pulled the scrunchie that hung loosely to the tip of her ponytail, freeing her honey-colored hair. The thick waves fell freely down around her shoulders, making her even more appealing than her teary face. His desire for her increased. Disgusted that he couldn’t control his urges any better where she was concerned, he abruptly turned away and snatched his hat from the ground, ramming it down on his head. He gathered Sandy’s reins between his fingers, swung up into the saddle. When he looked down at BJ, he felt a tightening across his forehead as his scowl deepened.

“Stay put.” He forced the words through his teeth and noticed her surprise. Yet he didn’t dare soften toward her. “And if you know what’s good for you, you better be right here when I get back.”

Applying slight pressure on the right strap of Sandy’s neck, he gave her a nudge with his boot heel and a
clacking
sound with his mouth. Sandy danced around before her legs stretched out in long strides flying over the green pasture. With lightning speed she headed toward the caliche road. Jason needed the space and time away from BJ before he strangled her or did something much worse—kissed her.

Whoever had shot Beauregard was long gone. The white plume of dust had already settled out of the air before he was even halfway to the fence. Jason knew there was no use even checking, but right now, he’d do just about anything to distance himself from the ungrateful brat.

O
f all the nerve! Ordering me around like a senseless child.” Her eyes followed Jason as he moved further away from her, her body rigid. “Jason Lynn O’Connell, you’ve got to be the most infuriating person I’ve ever known.” She didn’t yell, though she wanted to, but she did stomp her foot, trampling and squashing the grass beneath her hiking boot.

Her breath caught in her throat. Her anger went flat like a punctured balloon when her photographer’s eye caught the sight of Jason and his horse flying through the air. She stood in the lush field of green and knew there was no way on earth that she’d pass up this opportunity. If she didn’t take advantage of the scene she’d never have the chance to do it again.

Jerking her tripod around, she removed the cap from her camera, making quick adjustments, she focused in on the pair. Horse and rider. Poetry in motion. Magnificent.

Her finger depressed the button and the soft
click-click-click-click-click
captured the smooth movements of man and his trusty steed. Horse gliding over the turf with graceful movements—smooth, effortless, and emanating power.

Jason’s controlled actions, the bare touch of his heel, the drag of the rein against the horse’s neck, the slight pressure of his knee, all silent messages received and acted upon by the horse, but barely perceptible to the naked eye. Her camera caught it all.

Pure ecstasy. There was no other word to describe her excitement, nor the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Only another photographer could know what she felt at this moment. Each frame told a tale. Cowboy and steed inseparable … working together as one, gliding above the ground, flying over the mundane … untouched.

Not interested where he was heading or what he was up to, she continued to follow the progress of her wonderful subjects with each click—the Texas cowboy at his best, the filly in graceful splendor. The camera caught Jason in midair, jumping off his horse before the roan had completely stopped.

She grinned, knowing, without having to look at the shots, these would become some of the best pictures of her career. Her finger released the button. Shielding her eyes with her hand she watched Jason advance toward the gate. He pulled on the sturdy chain and lock then walked over to some bushes on the left side of the road.

She used her lens for a close up.

His head angled downward as though searching the ground for something. The toe of his boot shifted and moved through the dirt. He stooped, picked up something white, then slipped it into his shirt pocket before looking back at BJ. No doubt checking to make sure she had obeyed his command to
stay put.

Grabbing the reins of his patient horse, he swung back into the saddle riding off toward the bull that had chased her earlier.

BJ, glued to the camera again, clicked away as she followed the lone rider’s progress. She couldn’t believe the wonderful action shots she would have at the end of the day.

Sliding from the saddle, Jason approached the bull slow and methodical. She could see his lips moving and wished she could hear what he was saying to the big bull with horns that spanned the width of the monster’s length.

While he talked, he ran his hand over the muzzle, along the stately neck, then over the rump of the huge animal. The bull relished his touch, much like she had earlier in his arms.

Stop that!

She shoved the feelings from her mind and continued to take pictures until his horse stopped right in front of her, his gaze perturbed.

Looking up at Jason, for some reason she felt guilty. “I haven’t moved. I’m still right where you dropped me.” She placed the cap on her lens, smiling.

“Hope you got some good pictures.” His glare put her off kilter. Probably didn’t like being photographed.
Well, that’s too bad.

“That camera nearly cost you your life, you know. You wouldn’t be smiling now if your head had been stomped into the ground by my bull.”

She didn’t like the graphic picture he’d painted in her mind. Still sitting on the horse, she had to crank her neck back hard to look up at him. The glare from the sun made it difficult to see his face without shielding her eyes. Even then his face was shadowed by his brim.

Hoping to soften his mood and stop her nervous reaction, she smiled and said, “Sure did.”

“Don’t ever do such a foolhardy thing again. Coming into a pasture where there are longhorns is downright stupid unless you know what you’re doing. If you do it again, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself for the consequences.”

“Well, let’s see.” She gave a short laugh. “If I’d been trampled to death, which I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be alive to blame anyone, now would I?”

Jason slipped his right leg over the horn of the saddle, pushed his hat back slightly, this time she could see the thirst for blood—hers—in his eyes. “I won’t come down off this saddle for fear of what I might do to you at this moment. But let me tell you, BJ, it’s no joking matter what Beauregard could have done to you if I hadn’t been riding over that hill just now.” He gave a quick jerk of his head back in the general direction he had come from earlier.

BJ couldn’t keep the laughter from spilling over. “Beauregard?” She laughed some more. “You named a bull Beauregard? Jason. Really.” She placed her hands on her hips. She could tell he was doing his best not to grin, but it was there lurking in his eyes.

“I didn’t. My foreman’s six-year-old grandson did. I didn’t have the heart to tell him no self-respecting bull would be called Beauregard. But after a few times, it just seemed to fit the old boy.” He looked over his shoulder at his cattle. The grand sire and his harem had moved further on up the hill.

Watching Jason, BJ formed the words in her mind before speaking them. “I am truly sorry. The bull looked harmless enough.”

“He generally is.”

“Well, please accept my apology. And I want to thank you for what you did. You were a true knight come to my rescue.” She smiled up at him. “If you hadn’t come along …”

“Apology accepted. But in the future, be more careful.”

“Yes, sir. The bull … Beauregard—” She couldn’t help it, she chuckled again. “—he was friendly and didn’t seem to object until I walked away. I don’t know what happened.” She spied a glint in Jason’s face.

“Might have thought you were one of his heifers and he didn’t want you to get away. Bulls are funny like that.”

“You’re impossible.” She dimpled up at him then looked away remembering who he was—a married man.

“Listen, BJ. I don’t know what happened a few minutes ago. But you need to understand something. These are animals, wild, untamed, generally harmless, but nonetheless, the emphasis on the
wild
.” He let out an audible breath. “Next time, make sure you contact me when you want to take pictures on my land or you may not be so lucky. If you give me a day’s notice of when you’re coming, I or one of my ranch hands will ride along with you to ensure this doesn’t happen again.”

“Thanks, Jason, I’ll do that.” She glanced back at the gate and motioned. “What did you pick up back there?”

“Nothing.” He avoided her eyes.

She knew he was lying, but she didn’t press the issue. She closed her tripod.

“By the way, I checked the padlock.” This time his eyes pinned her. “It was locked.”

“I know. I slipped through the bars of the gate.” She raised her brows, a grin on her lips. “Quite easily I might add.”

The scowl he offered didn’t quite match the sparkle in his eyes. “Don’t do it again.” He shifted in the saddle. “I may lease this land from the estate, but while I do, don’t come on the property unless you tell me first. Didn’t you see the
no
trespassing
sign posted by the gate?”

BJ bristled then realized she had no right
.

“To tell the truth, no I didn’t. But next time I’ll look more closely.”

“Forgive me if I sound short. But I’m just thinking about your safety. Nothing more.” His concern etched in his face.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He slung his leg back into the stirrup. “Hand me your tripod and hop on up behind me. I’ll take you over to Fielder’s Pond.”

She gave him a questioning look.

“That’s where you were headed, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. But …” She took a look at the horse and shook her head. “I’ll walk. I like walking.”

“What’s the matter, you scared?” He watched her closely.

“I’ve never ridden a horse before.” She stepped back, distancing herself from the animal.

The rumbling laughter turned her insides out and brought on a renewal of the feelings she’d had in his arms earlier.

“Never?” Disbelief in his look.

When she shook her head, he laughed louder. Jason’s unguarded moment gave her another jolt. She didn’t realize how much she’d missed the sound of his laughter until this minute. “Nope.” Trying for lighthearted and natural, she added. “Never.”

“Come on. Sandy’s gentle.” He motioned for her to come closer.

Sandy did a side step.

BJ shook her head.

“I’ll take care of you, I promise. I won’t let you fall.”

His mischievous grin had her wonder about his vow of safety.

“And Sandy is as gentle as a baby.” He patted the horse on the neck. Sandy stomped her foot and blew out through her nose and mouth, making a fluttery sound.

Apparently, Sandy liked his touch. The horse made that fluttery noise again. She shook her head, her reddish-brown mane waved in the breeze. “Her ride is like a rocking chair, smooth and easy.”

Jason stretched his hand down toward BJ. “Give me your tripod.”

She hesitated before handing him her equipment. He shifted the tripod to the other side, then reached out toward her again.

“Give me your hand. Place your left foot in the stirrup and then sling your leg over Sandy’s rump. Sit just behind the saddle on the blanket.”

His calm voice and reassuring smile gave BJ courage to do what she thought impossible. Her trip up and on the back of the horse took three tries, but on the second one her leg swung up and over Sandy’s rump. BJ straddled the roan directly behind Jason feeling a little unstable. The ground looked a long way down from on top of the horse. But Sandy’s wide rump gave BJ a little confidence that she could stay where perched.

“Now put your arms around my waist, just like you would if you were going for a ride on a motorcycle.”

“But I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle.”

She heard him groan and would bet he’d even rolled his eyes.

“Just put your arms …”

“Okay, okay.” BJ slipped her hands around his rock hard stomach. The jolt of touching him so intimately made her wish she’d taken the opportunity to go back to her Jeep instead.

Jason clicked his tongue. Sandy gave a jerk before she started off at a trot, startling BJ.

BJ gripped Jason’s shirt. She tried to lean away from him but found it impracticable. Sandy’s gait had BJ bumping Jason’s back with every swing of a hoof.

Another rumble of laughter came from her riding partner, but this time she could feel the rumble seep into her bones.

“You better hold on to more than my shirt if you don’t want to be lying on the ground.” Again the laughter. “I won’t bite … I promise.”

The smile in his voice and the need to be practical made her relax. Her arms slid around his stomach and she held on tight, feeling his stomach muscles tighten. With survival mode in place, BJ worked to protect her heart.

“Hold on tight. I’m going to take her into a canter.”

She did as she was told—grabbing Jason’s hard abs. The speed of the horse increased and it was for certain, she would have bounced right off the backend if she hadn’t been hanging on to Jason for dear life. Somewhere between where she’d gotten on Sandy and before they reached the pond, she forgot her fear, relaxed, and moved with the steady, smooth rhythm of the horse.

This was not good. She was melting but not from the sun. The warmth of his back, the smell of the outdoors mixed with leather, horse, and Jason’s spicy cologne was a heady mixture, one she couldn’t resist. She breathed in deeply. If she survived this ride, she promised herself she’d walk the whole way back before she’d get on the horse behind Jason again.