Angi Morgan - The Cattleman

“Do I have to officially say it?” Beth stepped fully onto the path, presenting her gun and badge. “DEA. You’re under arrest. Drop your weapon, drop to your knees and cross your ankles.”

“I don’t get on my knees for any sweetmeat.”

“That’s too bad.” She took a step forward.

Nick noticed the tiny frustrating clinch in Beth’s jaw. “Wait. Don’t shoot him. We need this guy alive.”

The barrel slid from his temple just as Beth released her badge and took a very practiced stance to pull the trigger. Nick tried to knock his captor out of the line of fire, but out of the three rapid shots, at least one hit its target.

The sound of a bullet piercing human flesh was close to what it sounded like when an animal had to be put down. The sound of a man in pain was unique and easily recognizable. Both momentarily pierced his ears.

“You okay, Nick?” Beth held her gun on her prisoner, kicking the man’s weapon from his fingers. “I didn’t hit you, did I?”

“No. You hit him. Bad from the looks of it.”

Nick rolled him to his back. A burst of red spread across the man’s tan shirt, like he’d been hit by a paintball. The thin streak of blood trailing from the corner of his mouth changed the paintball image into something all too real. Nick tried to find a pulse with no luck, then searched for an ID. Nothing.

“Is he dead?” Beth asked, still standing instead of checking the man out for herself.

Nick stood and nodded, battling with himself over just how angry he was about to get. “This was a mistake. I should never have agreed to lead you back up here. That was the first guy who could give us information about the operation on my land. He wanted out of here. He would have gone for a deal. You didn’t have to kill him.”

“You don’t know if he would have given up anything worth trading on.” She holstered her weapon and put her arms around Nick. Almost as tall as he was, she dropped her forehead heavily on his shoulder. “Besides, I was aiming for his leg. He fell into the shot.”

His captor hadn’t fallen into the shot. Nick had pushed him into the line of fire. Their lead was gone because Nick had tried to save him. But Beth had shot him.

“I watched his partner leave in a hurry with the second horse,” she said into his shirt. “He had a gun to your head. I had to shoot. I couldn’t risk you getting hurt.”

She was being awful clingy for a federal agent. Even one he’d slept with. He held on to her arms wondering if she would lose it after killing someone.

“He wouldn’t have killed me,” he answered. “I was his ticket off this mountain.”

“I can’t really argue about this now, Nick. Any chance you’ve still got your horse or any cell reception?”

“Both. The horse is secure and I can probably climb up the ridge for a signal.” She stepped back, turning and stumbling a little. “Those damn fancy shoes are going to be the reason you break your neck up here.”

She retrieved her badge and straightened slowly, unsteady once on her feet. She leaned against the tree she’d hidden behind earlier, then turned to slip down its side, rough bark against her back.

“Good Lord, Beth! You’re shot.”

“That makes sense. I figured something was wrong since I’m about to lose my breakfast and can’t stand up anymore.”

He ripped her sleeve, and used the ends to pad the wound in her arm. “It doesn’t look too bad. Can you walk?”

“Sure. Let’s get out of here before his buddy decides to make a U-turn.” She pulled herself upright using his arm, then smiled at him. “Yeah, walking’s okay as long as you steady me. That’ll work.”

Her smile flipped a switch that he thought someone had cut the electricity to a while back. Since their night under the stars, he was always crazy with desire for her. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t seen each other for a couple of weeks. He couldn’t let her see him smile, though. He was still angry. He put his arm around her waist and started down the path to his horse.

“I realize we don’t know each other that well, but are you mad at me for getting shot?”

“Hell no. Our only lead is dead.” He honestly tried not to sound mad, but he didn’t succeed. “Hard not to be disappointed. It’s my own dang fault for letting you talk me into bringing you out here.”

“Should I have let him kill you?” She pulled away and continued walking.

He admired her strength and independence, but she didn’t belong here. Not in the raw mountains of West Texas. She didn’t even have a pair of jeans with her. She spun to face him, continuing to walk backward in her black slacks.

“Beth, get serious. It’s dangerous up here. Look where you’re going.”

“Well, you let me tell you something, Mr. Nick ungrateful Burke,” she slurred like she was drunk, waving a finger at him. She stopped a second before he would have lunged to keep her from tumbling to the uneven ground. She swayed and he was there to catch her. “Get away. I don’t need your help.”

“Sure, you don’t.” He bent, knowing that scooping her into his arms and carrying her to his horse was going to kill his recovering back. “Why do you think I’m ungrateful?”

“For one, you didn’t say thank you when I saved your life.”

“And the second?” he asked trying not to act too concerned at her swaying.

She took a deep breath and raised her finger just as her eyes rolled back in their sockets. She passed out on a long sigh and he was there, catching her before she crashed to the rocky path.

He smiled into her peaceful and gorgeous face. She couldn’t hear him and it might have been the only reason he said it, but he whispered the word, “Thanks,” and brushed his lips against hers.

After her inexperience almost got them killed twice, she was certain to be sent back to Chicago and out of his life. He didn’t have time for distractions. He had to find the men responsible for ordering his execution.

Chapter One

Nick Burke snapped awake and heard the echo of his labored panting in his ears. The faceless man shooting him in his nightmare faded, allowing him to suck some air into his lungs. A bright beam of sun snaked through his curtains and caught him in the eye.

“What the—?” His alarm was gone. But he’d set it the night before. Mom. He shoved back the hair stuck to his sweaty face and scratched his damp scalp. The sheets were drenched again. “Damn nightmares.”

He rubbed the numb skin covering the scars on his chest. No feeling in the daylight. Unlike at night when the dreams prodded and twisted a knife in the wound.

The more he tried to forget the shooting last year, the more he was surrounded by triggers. Literally. Stupid to believe he could face that demon and survive without some type of consequence. Cord had volunteered him to guide a drug task force through the mountains on his land and he’d met Beth. Then the shootout two weeks ago had almost gotten him shot a second time. He could still hear the bullet buzzing by his ear like a jet-propelled mosquito.

As a result, the nightmares had intensified.

He wouldn’t be that stupid again. Let the task force get some other dumb rancher to help. He needed to work his cattle and prepare for winter. He’d done his part and wasted enough time chasing an enemy that would never be gone. It was a fact of life he had to get past.

Living this close to the Mexican border, it didn’t matter if it was the nineteenth or twenty-first century. Cattle rustlers or gunrunners. There would always be some sort of threat out of the control of the ranch owners.

Doing everything possible to make the Rocking B successful should be his number one priority. He didn’t have the time to be distracted by the task force or nightmares...or a beautiful pair of legs.