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Still, driving back to her land, where she planned to camp, she couldn’t help thinking about him. Every word she’d told him about herself had been true. But had he been as honest with her? She’d seen his badge. She knew he wasn’t really working for Ferg. But she’d sensed a wall around him. He had shown her his job—but not the man he was. Giving him her trust would be more than she dared to risk.
Pulling up next to the fallen tree, she took her pistol from under the seat, cocked the hammer, and climbed out of the cab. By now it was almost dark. Across the creek, willows rippled in the night breeze. Crickets chirped in the undergrowth. The babble of the creek was peaceful, the shadows quiet. Still, Rose knew that this wasn’t a safe place to spend the night. She would sleep with her pistol beside her and probably lie awake, listening for any sound or motion that might signal danger.
After locking the cab, she went around to the back of the camper and opened the door. The bed was above the cab. She would have to climb over her pile of tools and belongs to get onto it. But right now, that couldn’t be helped. She could arrange the place better for living tomorrow.
Getting ready for bed involved stripping off her clothes in the dark and finding a nightgown in her duffel. There were no sheets, and she could only hope the mattress wasn’t too dirty. Dragging a quilt behind her, she climbed onto the bed, rolled the comforter around her, and closed her eyes.
She was exhausted. It would have surprised her to know that she had fallen asleep almost at once.
* * *
From across the creek, Tanner watched her settle for the night. He had scouted the shadows and satisfied himself that there was no immediate danger. But nothing was going to happen to Rose on his watch.
Her account of killing the drug lord who’d raped her, then going on the run from the cartel, seemed almost too fantastical to be true. But one look into Rose’s frightened eyes compelled him to believe her. His instincts told him that she was honest to the bone and unspeakably brave, with little more than grit and courage to protect her. Yet Tanner sensed that in her heart she was afraid.
As far as he knew, this small woman had killed two evil men. Those acts would be burned into her memory. She would carry them with her for the rest of her life. And that was just a glimpse she’d given him into the past that had made her a battered refugee from her own private war. What else was she hiding? What else lay behind the fear he’d seen in those breathtaking sunflower eyes?
As a lawman, he’d had no experience with drug cartels. But he’d heard and read about them. The ones that ope
rated south of the border were ruthless enough to wipe out entire towns, mowing down men, women, and children and shoveling their bodies into mass graves. Even the thought of the things they’d done made him shudder.
If these kinds of monsters were trailing Rose, she was in grave peril. And yet she remained defiant, camping out here alone on the land she’d resolved to claim, stubborn, determined, and so vulnerable that Tanner ached for her. Every instinct in his body cried out to protect her—if not from the cartel, at least from the unseen dangers that lurked in the shadows on a quiet Texas night.
For the space of a long breath, he stood watching the pickup. Then he went back to his horse, untied his bedroll from the back of the saddle, and returned.
Finding a level spot, he laid out the bedroll, checked his pistol, and lay down on his side, facing the creek. He didn’t plan to sleep much. All that mattered was making sure she was safe.
CHAPTER NINE
THE MORNING BIRDS ROUSED TANNER FROM A LIGHT DOZE. HE yawned, stretched, and sat up, eyes and ears probing the pewter dawn. Rose’s pickup and camper sat undisturbed in the clearing across the creek. A flock of quail skittered under the wheels and melted into the trees. A good sign, Tanner observed, as he stood, stretched, and fingered the tender bullet wound on the side of his head. The birds would be exploding into the air if anybody was prowling around.
All the same, he kept watch, melting back into the trees as the sky began to lighten. Rose would accuse him of babysitting her if she knew he’d spent the night here. All the same, he would wait until he knew she was awake and safe before he went back to start his work at the ranch. He hadn’t slept much, but a good strong cup of bunkhouse coffee should be enough to wake him for the day.
There was no sign of movement in the camper. He was wondering whether he should check more closely to make sure Rose was all right when an older blue pickup appeared in the distance, bouncing over the rutted trail from the direction of the Rimrock.
Tanner slipped back into deep shadows and drew his pistol, waiting as the truck rumbled closer, the driver making no effort to hide or sneak. As the truck pulled next to the camper, Tanner heard the honk of a horn. The driver’s side opened, and a man walked around to the camper’s back door. Tall and beanpole skinny, he was dressed in faded denims and a battered Stetson. He appeared unarmed, and he wasn’t behaving like an enemy, but Tanner wanted to make sure he was harmless.
The stranger rattled the door of the camper. “Rose! Are you in there, girl? Are you all right?”
A muffled reply came from inside the camper.
Tanner exhaled and holstered his weapon. Evidently Rose was safe and among friends. Time to hit the trail and start his own day.
* * *
“Jasper?” Rose climbed over her pile of tools and supplies and flung open the camper door. “How’d you know I’d be here?”
“And where else would you be?” Jasper grinned as he looked Rose up and down. “Lordy, but you’re a sight. You look like you spent the night in a loaded cattle car. Why didn’t you sleep at the ranch? You had a good bed in the duplex.”
“You know why.” Rose ran a hand through her tangled hair and tugged the ripped neck of her nightgown onto her shoulder. She’d spent a restless, mosquito-plagued night in the camper, only falling asleep a few hours before dawn. “Bull won’t budge on giving my land back. It’s war. I’ve claimed this ground, and I’m not giving it up.”
“So what are you fixin’ to do, build barricades? Shoot all comers? Blast it, Rose, you always were a stubborn little mite. Maybe it’s time you stopped digging yourself deeper and listened to reason.”
Rose rubbed at a mosquito bite on her arm. “So, what are you doing here, Jasper? Babysitting me?”
He shook his head. “Miss Rose Landro, I’m here to deliver you a formal invitation to breakfast at the Rimrock—now. So get your duds on and come with me. Bull’s orders.”
Rose rushed to unscramble her thoughts. Bull could have easily found out she’d gone to Ferg for help last night. He was probably mad enough to spit hot lead. But he didn’t own her, and she didn’t have to come when he beckoned.
