Stealing Her Heart, page 3
part #1 of Wild Hearts Series
Her most recent horse was a distinctly marked appaloosa gelding with whom she had currently racked up four world championships. She was a successful event planner with her own firm, and the owner of a small boutique ranch that raised appaloosas and some exotic breed of Japanese cattle whose beef was highly valued by foodies all over the world.
Not one for being photographed, all Brody remembered from the pictures he’d seen of her in the horse magazines was that she was tall and athletic with a mane of unruly red curls. And as she turned away, Brody was afforded a look through the binoculars at her shapely backside framed by a pair of chaps.
Maybe more curvy than athletic, which suits me to a tee.
Brody smooched to Lassie and picked up an easy lope in the direction of the world champion beauty. As much as he’d like to pursue the herd and continue on his original quest to learn more about the tracks, as a Ranger his first responsibility lay in the protection of the woman who had obviously been stranded.
At least that’s what he told himself. If the coming encounter worked to open a line of communication between him and the curvy beauty, who was he to argue with fate?
Chapter 4
The woman heard an approaching horse and turned, bringing her rifle up to her injured shoulder, ready to fire. Brody stopped his mount and said, “Brody Jensen, ma’am. Texas Ranger. Please lower the gun.”
He watched with interest as a myriad of emotions flickered across her expressive face. Mild panic was uppermost, as she was likely trying to formulate some reasonable explanation as to why she would be out in the middle of nowhere with a bullet wound and no means of transportation or communication.
None of that was apparent in her voice as she lowered the rifle and spoke. “Can I help you, Ranger Jensen?”
Cool customer.
“Given that you’re bleeding and on foot, I think I’m in a better position to be offering assistance, don’t you think?” Brody smiled his easy smile and let the drawl in his voice come through to try and allay any concerns she might have.
“I’m quite fine, thanks. I was just out for a walk, stretching my legs. I’d best be getting back.”
Etta turned, walking in the direction she had originally been going. Brody stifled the laugh that threatened to break free at her blatant falsehood and clucked his tongue to urge his horse forward. Etta’s step faltered as she heard his horse trot up beside her.
“Do you often go for a walk with a rifle and a bleeding shoulder?” Brody asked, nonchalantly.
Etta stopped and looked up at the Ranger sitting on the big mare. “Why should that be a concern of yours? Is it illegal to go for a walk with a rifle? Aren’t we an open carry state?”
Brody could see the thoughts swirling behind her eyes. She knew she had no good explanation for her predicament, at least not one she was ready to share with any law enforcement official. She was probably figuring her best bet was to bluff her way out and hope that he’d just go away.
Oh, no, you don’t, Etta. I’m not going to be put off and dismissed that easily.
“I’m a Ranger and my first duty is to protect the people of Texas. Someone out here in the middle of nowhere with a bullet wound, no ride, and nothing else to protect or aid her other than a rifle seems like something I should be involved in. Helping damsels in distress is a priority for the Texas Rangers.”
“Damsel in distress?” Etta said, squinting up at him incredulously. “Did you just call me a damsel in distress?”
Brody grinned. She wasn’t inclined to back down or defend her actions; instead going on the offensive. He had to admit that he kind of liked that. He also liked what he saw close up, save for the bleeding shoulder. Tall and very curvaceous. Unkempt, curly red hair that he suspected tumbled past her shoulders when it wasn’t held back by a barrette. She had a nice upper torso and shoulders that framed ample breasts leading down to a narrow waist, flared hips, and long legs that seemed to go on forever.
“I think the description fits, Miss Ross. And yes, I know you are Etta Ross. What I don’t know is what you’re doing here, what your connection is to that herd of mustangs that just stampeded over the hill, and where it is you think you’re going?”
Brody let the easy, charming drawl slip from his tone and replaced it with a more aggressive, authoritative one. Etta glared up at Brody. He had her at a disadvantage, if for no other reason than on his horse he towered above her, and she didn’t seem to appreciate it. She wasn’t intimidated, though. Not in the slightest.
Her lip curled as she replied. “You know, Ranger, it’s actually a good thing you’re here. Those men were stealing those horses.”
“From whom? Those are wild horses. They belong to no one, and this isn’t protected land.”
“Yes, but they also took my gelding. He’s worth more than eighty thousand dollars…”
“For a gelding?” Brody asked, not quite sure any horse, much less a gelding, was worth that kind of money.
“For a multiple world champion gelding,” corrected Etta. “Last time I checked that more than qualifies as grand theft. I’d like to swear out a complaint against them.”
Brody had to agree that if it were true, she did have grounds to swear out a warrant for those who had driven the mustangs, and her gelding, off. “Okay. Who do we make the complaint out against?”
“Derrick Hobson.”
Brody knew the name. “What makes you think it’s Hobson?”
“Let’s just say we’ve crossed paths before. I’m pretty damn sure he’s the one who took a shot at me.”
“Not ‘took a shot.’ He shot you. By the way, that, too, is illegal in Texas.”
Brody swung his leg over his horse, dismounted, and grabbed the first aid kit out of his saddle bag. “Let’s get a look at that shoulder,” he said as he approached her and reached up to remove the makeshift bandage.
Etta swatted his hand away. “It’s a flesh wound. I’ll have it looked at later. What I want now is for you to go after those men and arrest them.”
“I’m not in the habit of taking orders from civilians. The fact that they are long gone and that you need assistance means that isn’t going to happen. Not right away, anyway. Now, let me see that shoulder.”
“No. If you won’t help me, then leave me be and I’ll get on with rescuing myself.”
Brody chuckled. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I do that? I mean, after all, you’ve done such a crackerjack job up until now.”
As Brody again approached her and tried to get a better look at her shoulder, Etta moved the shoulder out of his reach, but stepped towards him. “I said no. I mean no when I say it. Now back the hell off.”
Brody had to admit he admired the way she wasn’t going to be easily intimidated. He decided to try a different tactic, calling on his ample charms. “Now, Etta. All I want to do is take a look at that shoulder to see how bad it is. If you’ll just let me, we can get you to safety and I’ll go after the men who took your gelding.”
This time he reached for her elbow instead of the shoulder itself. Etta stepped closer to him, brought her foot down hard on his instep, and executed a perfect left jab into his ribcage. Brody stumbled back out of her strike range.
“What part of no are you having trouble with, cowboy? The N or the O?”
Brody was trying to stifle his irritation. “It’s Ranger, not cowboy. You do know it’s illegal to strike a law enforcement official when he’s trying to perform his duties, don’t you?”
“Not if the sonofabitch is trying to touch me inappropriately, it isn’t.”
She was getting under his skin, and Brody didn’t like it one bit. She knew damn well she had no reason to be out here, knew that the shoulder needed looking at, but she was hell bent on getting her way and refusing to answer any of his questions.
“Inappropriately? Don’t flatter yourself. If I was going to touch you inappropriately, I’d put you over my knee and spank your ass until you agreed to let me tend to that shoulder and then you’d be given the choice of answering my questions directly and truthfully or getting another spanking.”
Etta’s eyes went to slits, but she said nothing and didn’t move as Brody approached.
“Now, let me see the damn shoulder, or would you prefer my inappropriate method?”
Brody reached for her shirt to push it off her shoulder but kept a wary eye on her body language and left fist. He pulled the torn bandage off and regretted causing her to wince. Had she been a bit more cooperative, he could have soaked it with water, and it wouldn’t have been as painful. He pushed her shirt off of her shoulder and looked at the hole from the front. He cautiously looked over her shoulder and did not see an exit wound.
“This isn’t good, Etta. It’s not a through and through. The bullet is still in there. We need to get you medical help.” He took some fresh bandages out of the kit, doused them with water and antiseptic and said, “This is going to hurt.”
“You think?” she snapped at him.
He was growing tired of dealing with her belligerent attitude, but he chalked it up to both pain and concern for her horse— which he knew from Jenny wasn’t about the money—and let it slide.
“Yes. I think it will.”
Before she could say anything else or move away, he pressed the bandage into the wound and watched her knees almost buckle from the pain. Brody reached out to steady her, but she pulled away from him.
“Knock it off, Etta,” he grumbled. “I’m not the one who shot you; nor am I the one who got you into this situation, but I am going to be the one to see it doesn’t kill you or leave you permanently disabled. Now sit down on this stump so I can call for help and then try to get this cleaned up while we wait for the medics.”
“I don’t want medics. I want you to find my horse.”
Sensing she was truly getting to the end of her rope, Brody thought to offer comfort. “I will, honey. I’ll get him back for you.”
Having dropped his guard, Brody was unprepared when she kicked him in the shin. “Don’t call me honey, you arrogant jackass.”
Brody grabbed her by the arm, put his foot on the stump and leaned her across his upper thigh. Before she could react in any way, he landed six hard swats to her denim-clad bottom. Just as swiftly as she found herself getting swatted, she found herself righted and pulled to his body, his face just inches from hers.
“That’s enough. One more lie, smart ass comment, or nasty remark from you, and I’ll give you an area of your anatomy other than your shoulder to worry about being painful. Now sit down before you fall down or before I paddle you to the point where sitting will be difficult, if not impossible.”
Fire blazed in her eyes. “If you don’t think I’m going to tell your superiors about this, you’ve got another think coming.”
“Tell them what? That you were being a brat and I spanked you? Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to happen. But if it does, so be it,” he said with a shrug. “Any man worth his salt hearing how you behaved in the face of someone trying to help you, and seeing that very spankable ass of yours, would agree that you got what you deserved or perhaps less than you needed. Now, sit.”
The stubborn set of Etta’s jaw revealed that her inclination was to continue to challenge him. He watched her physically swallow her pride and comply, conceding to her painful shoulder, stinging backside, and obvious fear for Timer and the band of mustangs.
Brody watched her gracefully, if resentfully, lower herself to a sitting position. He walked back over to Lassie, grabbed his cell phone, and called in the request for assistance. Handing his water bottle to her, he once again began to carefully clean the wound.
Silence hung between them as they waited. Etta drank tiny sips from his water bottle and glared mutinously at the horizon, while Brody meticulously cleaned her shoulder. He made no comment on the tears he saw brimming in her eyes—whether from pain or worry over her horse. Either one, it didn’t matter. Neither was a good situation.
The medics finally arrived with Brad, plus a truck and trailer for Brody’s horse. “What do we have here, boss?”
“Miss Ross needs to swear out a warrant for the theft of her gelding by person or persons unknown. She has a theory that the suspect is none other than our good friend Derrick Hobson.” Brad raised his eyebrows at Brody and turned to look at the medics taking care of Etta. “If you’ll take Lassie back and get her comfortable, I’ll go with Miss Ross in the ambulance and take a formal complaint.”
Having overheard their conversation, Etta said “I’m not going anywhere in this ambulance. I would appreciate a lift back to someplace where I can arrange for a car or truck to get myself home. You’re Jenny Gentry’s husband, aren’t you?”
Brad nodded. Etta suspected that his kind and unassuming wife would be shocked to know that Etta even knew who she was.
“Any chance I could get a ride back with you?”
Brad hesitated, glancing over at Brody.
Brody turned to one of the paramedics. “Is she good to go home, or does she need to be at a hospital?”
“Hospital. The bullet has got to come out of there and the wound needs to be cleaned thoroughly. She will probably need surgery.”
Brody looked back at Etta. “Then you, Miss Ross, are going to the hospital.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Ranger Jensen. I will go wherever I damn well please, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Brody chuckled. “We both know better, Miss Ross.” Brody was pleased to see the blush that stained her cheeks and was reflected by the flash of alarm in her eyes. “If I have to, I’ll place you under arrest as a material witness to the crime of grand theft. That, in turn, gives me the ability to compel you to seek medical assistance at the hospital.” Brody glanced around at the others. “Anyone have any questions?”
When they all murmured in the negative, Brody closed in on Etta, who had begun to head toward the truck as opposed to the ambulance. “Do I need to put you under arrest?”
“Why? Want to use your handcuffs on me?” Etta retorted.
Brody laughed out loud. As irritating as she was, he was really beginning to like the redhead, and not just for her smokin’ hot body or the way her ass had felt under his hand. He liked her bravado and confidence, as much as they irritated him.
He got close enough so that only she could hear him say, “Not that I’d mind or that I’d need to use them to get you to submit, but I’d prefer to do that in private.” Cuffing the wrist of her uninjured arm in his hand, he tugged gently.
“You’re a jackass,” she whispered, but allowed Brody to escort her back to the ambulance. As he went to help her in, she pushed his hand away. “I can do it myself. I don’t need your assistance, Ranger Jensen.”
“And as we’ve discussed, Miss Ross, we will have to agree to disagree, as your actions today would tend to contradict the idea that you are not in need of assistance.” Brody again offered his hand, and this time Etta allowed it.
His lip crooked up at the corner. “Good girl,” he whispered.
“Jackass,” she said again, heat flaring in her cheeks.
Brody tipped his hat. “At your service, ma’am.”
Brad watched the dynamics between the two of them and thought to himself that he needed to find out what Jenny knew about Etta Ross. From what he could see, she might just be a match for his friend. He’d like to see Brody settle down with a good woman, but knew she’d need to be tough enough to handle him.
Etta Ross might just have what it took to do so.
Chapter 5
Hobson and his men continued to move the horses towards the designated rendezvous. He knew they’d have to find a place to hide until darkness could cover the loading and transport of the horses out of Texas and into Mexico.
He’d noticed the big appaloosa amongst the smaller pack horses they had with them, wondering if there was a way to separate the gelding from the wild horses and make a private sale. That was Etta Ross’s prize-winning appaloosa. Surely there was more money to be had from a champion show horse than from a bunch of mustangs. Or maybe he could offer to ransom him back.
The ride to the hospital was uneventful and quiet. Etta had retreated into a stony silence, which Brody figured meant she was plotting her next move. Several times he tried to engage her in small talk and was rewarded with a withering stare and then a dismissive look before she turned away from him. Brody had to admit her cold shoulder act was both intriguing and irritating at the same time. There was something about the redhead who wanted nothing to do with him that he found intriguing and wildly attractive.
Brody wanted to see her shoulder healed and her horse returned to her. He intended to have a little talk with her about the inherent dangers of moving mustangs from free range onto protected lands. Brody knew that Hobson wasn’t the only rustler who was making a profit off the wild horses. And men who were willing to break the law wouldn’t hesitate to harm those who stood in their way.
He also acknowledged to himself that having her over his knee, even briefly, had been satisfying and arousing. It had been far too long between either of those feelings for him.
The ambulance stopped at the emergency entrance. When the paramedics opened the doors, Brody offered Etta his hand to step down more easily, but as he expected, she ignored him. As the hospital staff approached, Etta singled out the person who seemed to be in charge and said firmly, “Send these people back in. I’m not staying. I’ll take a cab to my own physician and be out of your hair.”
The intern looked from her to Brody, who shook his head. “Miss Ross will be staying to get her shoulder looked at properly. She’ll either do that of her own accord or as my prisoner.” Etta whirled around, eyes blazing. Brody merely raised his eyebrow in question “With handcuffs or not?”
“Jackass.”
“So, you tell me,” Brody drawled. He was somewhat relieved to see her sit down in the offered wheelchair, but he followed them into the emergency room just the same. No one questioned his going into the private area to which Etta was shown.
