Debra Clopton - Her Unforgettable Cowboy

Because she had fear eating her up, too.

And it irritated the dickens out of her. So much so that despite almost no sleep, she’d dragged herself out of bed and made it to church on just one cup of coffee. Her night had been awful, to say the least—just plain terrible.

It had started with thoughts of Morgan—specifically, the feel of his arms around her and the beat of his heart in her ear. Those sensations kept her awake half the night. When she’d finally fallen asleep, the nightmares arrived. Why, oh, why had she thought coming home would help ease them?

They hadn’t eased one iota.

Instead, they’d come as hard as ever, if not more so. Always the same, she was trapped in a raging vortex, upside down and fighting to make it to the surface. Always ensnared and struggling for her life.

Somewhere in the wee hours of the morning she’d given up trying to sleep and lay covered in sweat, tangled in sheets and worn-out. In the month since the accident, this had become the norm. Usually she turned to her Bible, searching for comfort and peace. Even though peace had been elusive, she knew God and only God had brought her up out of that watery grave.

A person would think that if she knew God had yanked her out of that murky water, there would be no reason to be full of fear from her toes to her roots—but she was. And she didn’t know what to do about it.

“You’re scared?” According to Morgan, Sammy was prone to exaggerations so she wasn’t sure what to make of his remark about being trampled, but she certainly recognized fear when she saw it. And it was like a flashing red beacon in his eyes.

He nodded. “Scared bad.”

“That’s totally understandable. Did the cow hurt you very badly?”

His gaze slid left, then back toward the four-foot-tall steers. “Broke my leg. My dad, he took real good care of me, though. And my mom.” He paused, gulping. “She cried, it scared her so bad.” He sighed wistfully. “They loved me so much they hated to see it happen.”

Heart slam!—Jolie was suddenly desperately grateful for her parents’ love and affection. She wanted to hug the child close—and at the same time do bodily harm to his parents for giving him up.

“I’m sure they did.” Jolie wondered if he even realized he’d said “loved” in the past tense. “You remember that anytime you need to talk about them, or anything that scares you, you can come to me. If you want to,” she added.

A half smile appeared that was one day going to make female hearts stop.

What a cute kid. And what a tough road he’d traveled. As had most of these boys.

A steer broke from the pack at the end of the arena and ran full tilt down the inside of the fence right in front of them.

Sammy’s head swung fast as he followed the black blur. Then immediately he turned back to her. “Are you really going to get out there?” he asked, his brows bunched in concern.

Jolie bit back a laugh. After all she’d faced in her kayak, a few half-pint cows didn’t scare her. Not that she’d dare tell Sammy that.

“You bet I’m getting out there!” she exclaimed. “It’s fun. If you learn how to do it right, even small people can flip a steer.” He didn’t look convinced at all. “You can do it, Sammy. It’s all in the technique.”

“We’re going in two groups,” Morgan called. Joseph clamored over the rail and jumped from the top rung to the ground. Instantly five more boys bailed over the rails and sauntered to join Joseph.

Jolie sure hoped she still had it—she hadn’t run around an arena after a steer in years. It hit her that if she hoped to get Sammy to participate at all today, she needed to go in the first group and lead by example. She climbed the fence and dropped to the ground on the other side.

“No!” Sammy yelped, grabbing hold of her shirt sleeve through the railing as if he feared he would never see her again. “Please don’t go,” he implored her.

“It’s going to be all right, Sammy. I promise. You’ll see, sugar,” she urged.

Adrenaline was flowing through her, a feeling she relished. She gave Sammy’s hand one last reassuring pat, then pulled away. She had never let fear hold her back—until the accident. But today, there was nothing inside the arena that remotely frightened her.

Matter of fact, she felt more alive than she had in a long time. Pure fun was what she called this.

It had been too long.

With big, goofy grins, the boys were whooping and waving her over. She jogged their way, smiling.

“Count me in on this one,” she called to Morgan. She rubbed her hands together, joining the boys behind the line that had been drawn in the dirt. Mentally she went over the names of the boys in the group—Joseph, Wes, Tony, Caleb and Micah, who was sixteen with rusty-brown hair, a lean face and eyes the color of well-washed jeans. They were all grinning from ear to ear as they looked at her.

Jolie clapped Caleb, the youngest, on the shoulder. “Hey, aren’t you Mr. Braveheart,” she teased, and his grin widened to touch his ears.

She was just starting to enjoy herself when she looked at Morgan. The man’s scowl told her he wasn’t happy with her at all.

So what else is new?

“You sure you want to do this? It’s been a long time, and yester—”

Jolie cut him off. “I’m fine, and I’m sure. Let’s get this muggin’ goin’!”

“If she can ride those rapids, I bet she can mug a puny five-hundred-pound steer.” Joseph grinned and spat a sunflower seed husk to the ground.

“Why, thank ya, Joseph,” she quipped, gloating a little at Morgan.

He frowned at the teen. “Maybe you need to tend to your own business.”

Joseph chuckled. “You sure been ornery the last few days, Morg.”

“Yeah,” Wes agreed. “Real grumpy.”

Morgan’s scowl deepened. “May I have a word with you?” he asked through bared teeth. Wrapping his hand around her biceps, he started walking her away from the group.

Once they were a good distance away from everyone he let go of her arm, leaving her skin tingling from his touch. She felt a rush of disappointment but wasn’t sure if she was disappointed that she’d felt a tingle or that he’d removed his hand.

“I can do this if I want to, Morgan McDermott.” Here was one of the problems that had prompted her to pack her bags six years ago—the man was pushy.

“You passed out yesterday. That’s not like you. I’ve thought about it all night and I’ve decided that there must be something wrong. You going to tell me what that something is?”

I’ve thought about it all night. He’d had her on his mind—the knowledge sent a shaft of joy straight to her heart. She continued to glare at him, though, because she’d never liked his bossing her around. It was all coming back to her now. Once he’d put his ring on her finger, he’d started trying to dictate her life—tried to wrap her up and keep her safe. It was out of concern, but she was not a china doll and refused to be treated as one.

Even if she felt broken right now.

“I did not pass out. I got a little faint is all.”

“You would have hit the floor like a rock if I hadn’t caught you.”

“Maybe, but—”

“Jolie, I’m not kidding. You come back here after all this time, and you aren’t kayaking. You nearly died—yeah, I know you didn’t elaborate on that, but Nana is my grandmother, so I’m informed. I know what a close call you had. I’m not blind and I’m not stupid, Jolie. There is something wrong with you and I want to know what it is.”

The man was impossible. “It’s none of your business.”

He loomed over her, his scent filling her senses. “I’m responsible for everyone out here and if you have some kind of condition, I need to know about it. You were hired on to this ranch without my say-so, but guess what? That makes you my business, especially if whatever’s going on affects your job.”