Joanna Wayne - Cowboy Fever

“I did, but it had over a hundred thousand tough miles on it. It was ready to bite the dust.”

She ran her hand over the dashboard. “I like this one.”

“Yep. It has all the bells and whistles.”

The silence grew awkward, punctuated by an awareness that all but consumed him. He’d been getting over her, or at least making a damn good stab at it. Now she was reviving the old feelings, torching the unhealed scars she’d left all over his heart.

He backed out of the parking spot. “Did the detective you called say whether or not there had been other armed carjackings in the area?”

“He said car thefts are on the rise, but that there hasn’t been a carjacking in this area for a couple of years.”

“Guess you never know when some thug will turn desperate.”

“Apparently. Stay right when you leave the lot and then turn left at the light.”

“Do you always work the late shift?” he asked once he’d made the turn.

“Normally I work from eleven at night to seven in the morning.”

“Why was tonight different?”

“I was covering for a doctor friend who had tickets for a Michael Bublé concert.”

“So she took your shift starting at eleven?”

“No. I’m starting a three-day break, so I wasn’t on the schedule. E.R. hours run a little different from typical doctor’s hours.”

“Guess the graveyard shift is the bane of first-year staff doctors?”

“Not really. Having days off just suits my lifestyle better.”

He understood what she meant. It gave her every evening at home with her significant other. The thought of her in another man’s arms settled like lead in Dakota’s stomach. Not that it surprised him. She’d never indicated she didn’t want a man in her life—just not him.

“The next right,” she said. “After that it’s just a couple of blocks.”

He did as she dictated, stopping in front of a two-story town house with a stone-and-wood fascia. A row of flowering shrubs set off a wide bay window. It was far more upscale than the small apartment she’d had as a resident back in Houston.

He wondered if she still had the same furniture. The couch where she’d given him the first massage to ease his painful muscles. His groin tightened as he remembered where that had led.

“Thanks for …”

“You need to take care of …”

They’d started talking at the exact same moment and their words became tangled.

She laughed nervously. “It was good to see you again, Dakota.”

“Yeah. You, too.” He leaned over, aching to kiss her, knowing it would be a big mistake.

She opened her door and slid out as if fearing he might make a move on her. He opened his truck door.

“Don’t bother walking me to the door, Dakota. You’re hurting, I’m exhausted and it really isn’t necessary.”

He watched her walk away, the finality of their brief encounter searing into his mind. She had her life all figured out and there was no place in it for him.

When she neared the house, motion lights flicked on. She looked back and waved. A few seconds later she turned the key in the lock and disappeared behind the dark wooden door.

He sat there for a few minutes, letting the memories wreak havoc with his brain before gunning the engine and starting off to his lonely hotel room.

He’d driven about four blocks when he stopped for a light and noticed Viviana’s laptop case still on the floor. She might need the computer first thing in the morning, so there was nothing to do but take it back to her. Imagine her live-in’s excitement to have an injured cowboy ring the bell in the wee hours of the morning.

There was movement in the shrubbery as he approached the house. He stopped and stared into the blackness. The movement evidently hadn’t been enough to trigger the motion lights.

But something was in those bushes. He opened his truck door. A man jumped from behind the bushes and started running toward the back of the house. Dakota leaped from the truck and took off after him. With the first pounding of his feet on the pavement, pain shot through him like small explosions. He struggled for breath.

He got to the back of the house just in time to see the man jump from a branch, clearing the tall privacy fence and landing with a thud on the other side. By the time Dakota shinnied up the tree, the man had disappeared.

He dropped back to the ground, his breath knifing through his lungs. Damn. Had he not been thrown with such force tonight, he could have caught the man and taken him down. But if he hadn’t wound up in the hospital, he wouldn’t have run into Viviana. The gunman might have forced her into the car and abducted her. If this was the man who’d stolen her car, she was clearly not a random target.

He trudged back to the truck, retrieved the computer and took the walkway back to the front door in the faint glow of moonlight. The motion light had either quit working or more likely had been sabotaged. He looked and felt like hell as he rang the bell.

A minute later, Viviana opened the door a crack and peeked out at him. “What’s wrong?”

“You left your computer in the truck. I brought it back to you.”

She opened the door the rest of the way, then reached up and dislodged a leaf from his hair. “You’re out of breath. Where have you been?”

“Chasing a man from your yard.”

“What?”

“I spotted someone at your front window when I drove up. I chased him but he got away.”

“The man who stole my car.” Her voice was shaky.

“That would be my guess.”

Color drained from her face. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this.”

“Best I remember, I came barging into it.”

“So you did. Do you mind coming in while I call the cops?”

“What will your boyfriend say about that?”

“There is no boyfriend.”

So her roommate was female or platonic. More relieved than he should be, Dakota stamped the dirt from his shoes and followed Viviana inside.

Viviana carefully locked the dead bolt behind Dakota. Twice tonight, he’d appeared just in time to save her from some depraved lunatic.

But right now, even that wasn’t the worst of her problems. She’d known for seven months that she had to face Dakota again eventually. She’d tried to convince herself that she’d be able to look him in the eye and explain everything without her emotions billowing out of control.

But the second she’d heard his voice tonight, those illusions had vanished.

“You need to call the cops or your friendly detective right away,” Dakota said. “The man could still be in the neighborhood and if they act fast they may be able to apprehend him.”

“I will, but lower your voice and come with me to the kitchen.”

“Why are we whispering?”

“Someone’s asleep upstairs. There’s an ice pack in the freezer.” She opened a drawer, took out a dish towel and tossed it to him. “Wrap it in this and apply it to your shoulder.”

“Bourbon would be better.”

She opened the door to the cabinet where she kept her meager supply of liquor while she punched 911 into her cell phone. She was tempted to call Cortez again, but it was no use waking him in the middle of the night when there was little he could do at this point.

The 911 operator took her information.

“Are you certain you’re not in any immediate danger?” the operator asked.

“I’m not certain, but the intruder appears to be gone.”

“Stay on the line while I alert the police.” The operator was back in under a minute. “An officer will be there within the next half hour. In the meantime, stay inside with your doors locked. If your situation changes and you feel you’re in immediate danger, call 911 again.”