Midnight Ride Page 2

  She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her. “Did any of my animals get out?”

  “No, ma’am. The tree branch is working pretty good to block the opening for right now, but I wouldn’t count on that lasting forever. You know how cattle can be.”

  She supposed she should thank God for small favors that none of her cows had figured out they could walk over the limb while the barbed wire was down.

  “All right. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll take care of it.”

  Of course, to take care of it she’d have to figure out how, when, and with what help. She’d also have to sideline dinner for the moment and drive out to see how bad the damage was. Then she could determine what she needed to buy for the repairs and if this was something she’d be able to do herself or if she’d have to find a guy to hire and pay with money she really didn’t have to spare.

  “No problem at all. Have a good day, ma’am.”

  Not likely. “Thanks. You, too.”

  The polite and oh-so-young-sounding Colton hung up before she could talk to him about possibly fixing the fence in exchange for some of the chili on the stove. Sad but true, that was about all she had to spare to pay a hired hand right now.

  Alone, widowed, and in debt up to her eyeballs on a ranch she couldn’t maintain but couldn’t bear to think about selling, all at thirty-six years of age.

  Janie had to wonder how her life had turned out like this. She wasn’t living in the untamed Old West, when men died too soon and young widows were commonplace. This was modern times, and only a couple of hours’ drive from Oklahoma City, for God’s sake. Yet here she was, worlds away from where she thought she’d be back when she’d been a young starry-eyed bride marrying the older man who’d swept her off her feet. Long before Tom’s diagnosis with pancreatic cancer had changed both their lives.

  Blowing out a loud breath filled with frustration, Janie flipped off the burner. She grabbed the truck keys from the counter and shoved them in her pocket before bending to retrieve her paddock boots. Sitting to pull them on over her socks, she felt the bone-deep exhaustion that had hung over her for months. Like a black cloud in the sky darkening everything beneath it.

  It was really no surprise she was tired. Just keeping up with the ranch and teaching riding lessons kept her busy from sunup until sundown, and worrying kept her up all night. Sleep would be good, but she wasn’t the type to use the crutch of sleeping pills. After Tom’s death, yes, she’d given in for nearly a week, drugging herself into oblivion where reality didn’t creep in until consciousness returned eight hours later. Pills weren’t a long-term solution. She needed to move on, and foolish as it might be, she wanted to do it on her own without any medications, not even the over-the-counter stuff.

  As she rallied the last bit of strength in her, she braced one palm on the kitchen table and hoisted her weary body from the chair. She had to wonder how much longer she could keep this up before something broke—either her mind or her body. She guessed that as long as she was still managing to put one foot in front of the other, that was a worry for another day.

  Out in the truck, she pulled herself into the driver’s seat and shoved the key into the ignition. The lights on the dashboard told her that the gas tank was nearing empty. Fuel would cost her another fifty bucks, and at current prices, that wouldn’t even fill up the tank. She wasn’t to the point of starving or losing the ranch that had been her grandfather’s before she’d taken it over, but that didn’t mean she liked spending money she really couldn’t spare on fuel that cost far too much nowadays, in her opinion.

  Janie was getting accustomed to the constant sensation of unease that worrying caused inside her. It was a familiar presence that hovered in the background and shadowed every waking and sleeping moment. Used to the tightness in her chest and the turmoil in her stomach, she pushed herself past it and into motion.

  On autopilot, she fired up the truck’s diesel engine and threw the transmission into gear. The drive to the field where Rohn’s hand had said the fence was down was a short one. Once there, it didn’t take her long to spot what he’d seen. She saw the fallen tree limb lying across a broken section of fence, just as he’d described.

  The few head of cattle she’d kept when she’d sold the rest lifted their heads at the sound of the truck approaching. At least they were still contained. As long as they had grass to eat in the pasture, and the pond to drink from, they likely wouldn’t go looking to escape, but the fence had to be fixed nonetheless. The sooner the better.

  It looked like one upright had snapped and the barbed wire was down. She’d have to buy a new fence post, but that was the least of it. Getting the old one out of the ground and sinking the new one would be a lot of work. Not to mention securing the wire to complete the repair.

  This was the kind of thing Tom and their ranch hands would have taken care of. Now the job fell to her. Even without the much larger herd they used to maintain, owning a large tract of property and keeping even a few animals meant a lot of work.

  The modern woman inside her liked to think she could deal with things as well as any man, but when it came to handling eight-foot-long locust fence posts by herself, she had to face the fact that this time, that might not be the case.

  One thing at a time. She’d run out and buy the post tonight before the lumberyard closed and she’d worry about the rest tomorrow. Maybe, if she found she couldn’t handle the repair on her own, she could hire one of the kids from the lumberyard on the cheap. Or beg a favor from Rohn and get one of his hands to help her. She hated playing the widow card—taking advantage of the sympathies of friends and neighbors by asking for help—but desperate times called for desperate measures. Hard to admit, yes, but the woefully sad situation in her bank account was just that since Tom’s death—desperate.

  After one more appraisal of the situation, Janie felt confident enough to leave the herd in the field. The repair could wait until morning. The few head of cattle she’d kept when she’d sold the rest of the herd were happily munching on the summer grass, huddled well away from the breach in the fence that was being blocked by the tree limb.

  Drawing in a bracing breath, she climbed back into the truck. Next stop, town, to get fuel and a fence post. Then straight home and possibly directly to her empty, lonely bed. That would be after she put the chili away for tomorrow. What with the interruption, she didn’t really have an appetite for it any longer.

  Chapter Three

  They were barely inside the door of the Two-Step when Colton nudged Tyler with his elbow. “I get the blonde.”

  Tyler’s brows drew low. “Why do you always want the blondes?”

  Colton shrugged. “I don’t know. I like ’em. I guess I have a type.”

  “Fine. You get the blonde.” Tyler rolled his eyes. A type. What bullshit. Tyler’s type was any pretty young thing with the potential to make his evening more fun.

  There had to be a dozen women in the bar, all enjoying, in volume, the ladies’ night dollar drinks. There were all colors, shapes, and sizes. Far too many for Tyler to even have gotten a good look at in the short time since he’d walked in.

  The evening was still young. There was no need to make a choice as quickly as Colton had. Tyler wasn’t even sure which blonde it was that Colton had his eye on since he’d spotted at least three, but it didn’t matter. There were more than enough to choose from. If his friend really wanted to limit himself to this one girl—whoever she was—Tyler wasn’t about to argue. That still left all the brunettes and the redheads for him.

  “Come on. Let’s go get a beer.” Apparently satisfied that his claim had been staked, Colton led the way to the far end of the bar.

  When they arrived, there was indeed a blonde. She was leaning up against the wooden rail, posed for maximum impact and displaying a good amount of skin. More importantly, and what caught Tyler’s attention, was the fact she also had a friend—a dark-haired friend who was fair game for him to pursue.

  The girls turne
d at their approach.

  “Ladies.” Tyler tipped his hat at them. The brunette followed the move with her eyes and smiled.

  Colton moved around to the other side, closer to the one he’d called dibs on, and leaned in to signal the bartender. “We’ll have two drafts, and two more of whatever they’re drinking.”

  “Sex on the Beach.” With a fingertip, the blonde slid her nearly empty glass across the surface of the bar top. “Thanks.”

  “Two more Sex on the Beach it is.” Colton nodded with a smile, looking as amused at the name of the drink as Tyler.

  He met Colton’s gaze and grinned. This night was getting better with every moment.

  “I got first round.” Tyler tossed cash on the bar and then turned to the brunette. “So tell me, what exactly is in that drink?”

  “I don’t know, but it sure tastes good.”

  Maybe it didn’t matter what the ingredients were. He liked it already just judging by the name. He extended his hand to her. “I’m Tyler.”

  “I’m Libby.” Her fingers felt cool against his from the ice-filled glass she’d been holding. He shook her hand, lingering for a bit longer than necessary before he released his grip.

  “Well, Libby, I sure hope to get a taste of this Sex on the Beach of yours sometime.” He’d fully intended the suggestion behind his words.

  “Here. You can have a sip now.” She pushed her half-empty glass closer to him, but he shook his head.

  “Nuh-uh. There are far nicer ways for me to take a taste than out of that there plastic straw.” His focus moved from the drink in question to her plump, pink lips.

  By the time he dragged his gaze back up to her eyes, she was smiling at him. “All right.”

  She fisted the front of his shirt and pulled him closer before she crashed her mouth into his.

  Oh, yeah. Coming to the Two-Step had been a good decision. He’d achieved lip-to-lip contact in less than five minutes. That had to be some sort of record, even for him.

  Libby thrust her tongue between his lips and he tasted the remains of the sweet drink inside the heat of her mouth. She stayed right there, French-kissing him like a woman on a mission.

  Never one to deny a lady what she wanted, Tyler reciprocated wholeheartedly. He rested his hands on her hips, slid his thigh between her legs, and leaned back against the bar, settling in for a nice long make-out session.

  This was going to be a very good night, and all for the bargain price of a dollar a drink. That would no doubt be the least expensive sex on the beach or sex anywhere that he’d ever gotten.

  Tyler was aware of the bartender planting the two beers and two drinks on the bar, and of him taking the cash and delivering change. All of that action seemed far off in the corner of his consciousness as he enjoyed some attention from the lovely Libby. He didn’t know how Colton was faring with his blonde, and he really couldn’t rally the concern to care all that much.

  Libby pulled away from his mouth and raised her gaze to his. “How about we take this outside?”

  “Sounds good to me.” He grabbed his beer and downed a few gulps. He had a feeling he’d be working up a thirst shortly. As he set the glass bottle down, Tyler shot Colton a look. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

  His friend raised a brow, but dipped his head in a nod. “A’ight.”

  Right about now Colton was probably second-guessing his spur-of-the-moment decision to go for the blonde. In this situation, it sure looked as if brunettes had more fun.

  Tyler looped his arm around the girl’s shoulders and led her out the back door. For one, it was closer to where they stood than the front door. More important, it conveniently led directly to the parking lot. They’d arrived at sunset, so it was beginning to get dark out. There weren’t as many lights out back as there were in the front of the building. That would provide them with some privacy. Not to mention they’d left Colton’s truck parked in the back lot and the doors were unlocked. He and Libby could crawl in there for some added privacy for their fun.

  The quiet of outside replaced the noise of the bar as the heavy door slammed shut behind them.

  “So, you wanna—” Tyler didn’t get to finish asking if she wanted to get comfortable in the truck. He couldn’t as she slammed him up against the wall of the building.

  With her hands on his belt buckle and her mouth covering his, the time for talking was apparently over. He guessed doing whatever it was they were going to do right there against the building was fine with her since it seemed she was driving this bus, not him. He was simply along for the ride.

  She broke away for a moment and Tyler used it as an opportunity to breathe and get a few words in. “You’re sure . . . enthusiastic tonight.”

  “I’m mad.”

  Libby concentrated on his buckle as she struggled to open it. It gave him a second more to ask, “Who are you mad at?”

  “My fiancé.”

  “Fiancé? Whoa, wait a minute.” He would have taken a step back from her if he weren’t already pressed against the wall. He made do with grabbing her hands to stop her from stripping him further.

  Having already conquered his buckle and the top button of his jeans, she was in the process of lowering his zipper. He held her still to stop her progress before she got her hands inside his underwear.

  Ironic, that. Usually Tyler was all for a girl getting into his pants, and vice versa, but not when there was a fiancé in the picture.

  “Why are you so mad at him?” He figured it had to be pretty bad to get her angry enough to be doing what she was with him, a total stranger.

  A frown creased the brow above her eyes. “He was staring at some girl’s tits. I saw him doing it. Right there inside the front door, plain as day.”

  He started to suspect that the drink he’d seen her with wasn’t her first one of the evening. Her speech was a little slurred, her eyes a bit unfocused. Her reasoning was definitely off, too. Even if her guy had been eyeballing a girl, that was nowhere near equal to what Libby was trying to do now with him.

  “Maybe you were mistaken. Did you ask him about it?” Tyler tried to talk some sense into the girl, even though odds were she was past hearing him.

  “I can’t. I’m not allowed to talk to him when he’s working. He’s too busy.” She wrinkled her nose and did an unflattering imitation of a man’s voice, clearly showing her displeasure. “But you can bet I will later, as soon as the other bouncer gets here and he can take a break. Until then, I figure I’m free to do whatever I want, and I intend to.”

  She stepped closer and pressed her pelvis against his as tidbits of what she’d said began to penetrate Tyler’s brain. Like puzzle pieces, they started to fit together, and the resulting image was not a pretty one. While she moved both of their hands down the front of his jeans to connect with the tip of his burgeoning length, he managed to picture the bruiser who’d been manning the front door of the bar and checking IDs as they’d walked in.

  “Wait. Libby, hold up. Are you saying he works here? Jesus, please tell me he’s not the guy out front tonight.” He could only pray he’d misinterpreted her drunken babbling.

  The back door flew open, smashing against the wall and bouncing back to where it was intercepted by the beefy forearm belonging to one hell of a big—not to mention angry-looking—guy.

  Tyler didn’t have to wait around for Libby’s answer. One look at the murderous expression on the man in the doorway and he figured he had all the information he needed. He wasn’t about to risk bodily injury by sticking around any longer.

  There were times when a man should stay and fight, and there were times when it was wiser to cut and run. It was clear to Tyler that this was the latter.

  Shoving the woman he’d been kissing just moments before out of the way, he clamped his hat lower on his head and took off at a sprint as her bruiser of a fiancé followed him.

  Cowboy boots weren’t meant for running, but Tyler managed it. He sure had incentive. Avoiding being pummeled into the ground by a
jealous fiancé served as fine inspiration. He knew the truck was unlocked, but he didn’t have the keys to start the engine. Colton had those with him inside the bar. Tyler wasn’t about to lock himself inside a truck when he couldn’t flee, not with an angry lunatic hot on his tail, so he kept running.

  The terrain worked in his favor, as did the darkness while Tyler crashed into the woods off the side of the parking lot. Branches whacked into him as he dodged between them. He twisted an ankle when one foot landed on a rock, but he kept going, limping in a half run. A pine bough caught him across the face, blinding him as he squeezed the injured eye tight and the tears began to flow. Still, he forged ahead. His life depended on it.

  Chapter Four

  The woods broke into a clearing and Tyler realized he was behind the lumberyard right off the main road in town. He slowed to a fast walk when he hit the concrete and glanced around him.

  He needed to get somewhere safe and tend to his eye, which hurt like hell and was still tearing up. And he needed to zip his jeans and refasten the belt buckle the girl had undone, all while she’d kept to herself that one important detail—that the fiancé she was mad at was working the door of the bar. That would have been good information for Tyler to have. He also needed to make sure his cell phone hadn’t fallen out of the back pocket of his jeans so he could call Colton to come and rescue him. But before any of that, he had to make sure the man in hot pursuit hadn’t followed him this far.

  A crash in the woods behind him, followed by a loud cuss, told him the lunatic hadn’t given up yet. Damn, but this guy was persistent.

  Tyler took off running again, though at this point it was more of a fast hobble. He had to hide. A pickup truck parked in the lot in front of him provided his only hope. He should just take the truck and drive away. It wouldn’t be stealing. He’d only be borrowing it. He could bring it back as soon as life and limb were no longer in jeopardy, but he didn’t know if the owner had left the keys inside and he couldn’t waste precious seconds checking.