Ranger's Wild Woman Read online

  THROUGH THE MAIN HOUSE window, Last watched Mason as he left the barn and walked toward home. “Talk about a sore head,” he muttered to Tex. “That one’s a walking case of soreness.”

  Tex peered at Mason moving slowly toward the house, his gait not as firm as it once had been. “Why in the hell didn’t he stop her?”

  They both knew the “her” was better left unnamed. “Because he couldn’t,” Last said. “Mason couldn’t stop Dad from leaving. He knew some people do what they have to do sometimes, regardless of what other people need or want. And Mimi couldn’t wait around forever. Lord only knows, Mason was never going to marry her. And we all realized that.”

  “It would have taken a miracle,” Tex agreed. “I am never falling in love. Never. It’s much easier just to sleep with a woman who only wants sex.” He leered happily until he caught another glimpse of Mason’s face, set in sad lines. “And that’s another thing I can’t figure out. Why didn’t he just sleep with Mimi?”

  Last gasped. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “Well, hell,” Tex complained. “He wanted her. Even if he acted like he wanted an arm-shave more.”

  “Yeah, but she’s like our little sister!”

  “But that was the problem,” Tex insisted. “I think he knew his feelings toward her were stronger than that, but he thought that was sacrilegious or something.”

  “But he couldn’t have slept with Mimi,” Last argued, still horrified. “That wouldn’t have been right. I mean, Sheriff Cannady’s daughter!”

  “Well, then.” Tex returned to the toaster where he discovered he’d burned the bread to a crisp. Smoke came out, and a disgusting odor. “Hell-on-fire,” he complained. “Helga’s gonna kill me. I’ve messed up her domain.”

  Last shrugged, watching Mason kick mud off the porch that one of the brothers had scraped from their boots. “If you ask me, life is going to get a lot messier around here, more than any of us would like.”

  And it was all Mason’s fault. Unfortunately, as Last and Tex had just discussed, Last really didn’t have an answer for what his big brother, Mason, should have done. All he knew was that whatever needed to be done hadn’t gotten done, and now they were all forced to live with the consequences—except Ranger, who had escaped. Traitor.

  “Where’s Archer?” Mason demanded as he walked into the kitchen.

  “I ain’t my brother’s keeper,” Tex replied, his voice instantly tense. “Make that plural, just so you’ll know.”

  Last stared at Mason. “What do you mean, where’s Archer?”

  “His roll-up tent and sleeping bag are missing from the barn storage.”

  Last groaned to himself. One more brother on the lam. Whether Mason wanted to admit it to himself or not, he was driving his family away one by one—just as he had Mimi.

  And Mason couldn’t stop them from leaving—any more than he could have stopped their father, Maverick, from leaving when Mason was seventeen.

  That’s what love did to a man.

  “It’s not going to happen to me,” Tex swore quietly, so that no one heard him except Last, who didn’t need to be told what he meant. “Never.”

  Last nodded. Maybe it was better if love didn’t hit any more of them. So far, in their family, love was a disastrous affair with biblically epic consequences.

  “We’re doomed,” he murmured to himself, seeing the stone-carved expression on Mason’s face.

  “Doomed.”

  Chapter Two

  Hannah Hotchkiss stared at the back of Ranger’s head. She could practically see plumes of fire shooting right out of his Western hat. A man that temperamental ought to be a crime! He should be happy for the chance to sit next to Cissy—seemed like all men dreamed of being near her. But no—just like every other Jefferson male she’d met, Ranger had to be different and alarming and hypnotizingly macho. A sin in boots. She sighed to herself.

  “I suppose you’re pretty much bred from the Jefferson stock,” she said to the man sitting next to her, a man who looked just like Ranger, which was startling and unnerving. The basic difference between them was that Ranger wore a brown Western hat, and this man wore a black felt with silver rope braid. The confident Jefferson smile was dashingly displayed, and the dark eyes were roaming her cut-open tennis shoes and funky-punky red-tipped hair with interest—she groaned silently with frustration.

  And here she thought she’d been going to Mississippi to get away from memories of Ranger. Oh, no, life was not that simple. She had to discover he had an unnerving double.

  The grin on her seatmate’s face widened as he shoved his hat down over his eyes. “I’m going back to sleep,” he said. “Ranger, you old dog.”

  In the front seat, Ranger stiffened at his twin’s words. “I don’t know what that means,” he said, his tone annoyed.

  Hannah rolled her eyes, but the twin kept his mouth shut. Cissy flipped her silvery hair and peered over the seat at the twin.

  “Is he always such a wagon-load of joy?” she asked Ranger.

  “It’s a family trait,” Hannah said, matching Ranger’s sourness. “Tall, dark and intimidating.”

  “Hey!” Archer shoved the hat back and stared at her. “Don’t lump me in with him. We’re not twins in personality.”

  “Don’t insult the driver,” Ranger stated, “or you’ll all find yourselves on the road with your thumbs out. Not much traffic at this hour, I might call to your attention.”

  Cissy patted his arm. “We’re not insulting you, are we, Hannah?” she said with a warning glance. “Hannah’s just playing around.”

  Hannah shrugged. The difference between her and Cissy was that Cissy came from the get-more-bees-with-honey school and Hannah came from the call-it-as-you-see-it school. The two schools operated so completely differently that it was a wonder she and Cissy had hooked up to get out of Lonely Hearts Station. But necessity made strange bedfellows—or truckmates, anyway—and both of them wanted out, neither of them had a vehicle and each agreed a female traveling alone was a recipe for disaster, never mind which school of thought one had graduated from. So they joined forces, decided to walk or hitch to the bus station—after leaving goodbye notes for Marvella and Delilah, their respective employers—and put themselves on the street with their luggage.

  “Just playing around,” Hannah agreed, looking at the back of Ranger’s stubborn head, as Cissy gave her a thorough warning stare. “Don’t take me too seriously, Ranger.”

  He snorted. Hannah pulled a baseball cap from her duffel and shoved it on her head, deciding to emulate Archer by closing her eyes. It was going to be a long ride to Mississippi, especially sitting next to the twin of a man she’d kissed and lost a piece of her heart to.

  And it wasn’t any easier knowing that Cissy had kissed Ranger, too.

  “IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT,” Marvella said to her sister, Delilah, as she held out Cissy’s farewell note. “I hope you’re happy with running off my prize girl.”

  “I didn’t run off anyone,” Delilah said with a shrug. “I lost a girl, too.”

  “Not like Cissy. Cissy brought in more customers than any other hairstylist I had.”

  “And it wasn’t for her ability with hair,” Delilah said. “Not that I’m partial to one of my girls more than another—they’re all daughters to me—but Hannah’s spunk is going to be missed around here. Far as I can see, Cissy wasn’t any more special than Hannah, so quit acting like you lost something more valuable than I did. Anyway, I knew nothing about their plans, as you can see.” She held out the goodbye note from Hannah, but Marvella ignored it.

  “I should sue you for lost business.”

  Delilah sniffed. “Try it. Then you’ll have to reveal exactly what your business includes, Marvella. Nobody’s quite sure exactly what all’s going on at your salon or why you need a monster-size heated spa.”

  “Massages and aromatherapy, just like the big city,” Marvella told her. “Nothing fancy. Just pretty girls and relaxation at the end of a hard day for
the menfolk. Don’t make it sound so sinister.”

  Delilah had her doubts that it was so innocent, but that wasn’t the point at the moment.

  “One of my girls said she saw a truck stop to pick up Cissy and Hannah,” Marvella revealed. “It was too dark to be certain, but Valentine said it looked like Ranger Jefferson’s truck. Now, you can say that’s a coincidence, that there’s a lot of trucks around these parts, but we all had a good look at what the Jefferson boys drove last month. They all flaunt those extended-cab, super-size, my-wheels-are-bigger-than-yours stud machines. And I want you to know two things,” Marvella said flatly. “One: I aim to find my best girl and bring her back. Two: If I find out it was a Jefferson boy behind the wheel of that truck, I’m holding you personally responsible since you brought those boys here in the first place. This town’s not been the same since you went on your little sightseeing junket and came back towing those grateful cowboys. You’ve barely convinced me you weren’t behind this little midnight rendezvous, but I’ll still blame you if Ranger Jefferson snuck off with Cissy.”

  “Sister,” Delilah said softly, “I haven’t had much to do with you since you accused me of stealing your husband. Now you’re claiming I had something to do with your best shop girl heading out. Frankly, I’m done talking to you. I can go another twenty or so years before we speak again.”

  Delilah closed the door, pulling down the blind. Sighing, she walked into the kitchen where Jerry, her truck driver friend-in-need sat, his face set in sympathetic lines.

  “Did you hear that?” Delilah asked.

  “Every word.” He patted the chair next to him. “Sit down and let me warm your coffee.”

  She did, appreciating his willingness to care for her. “You’re always here for me, Jerry. How lucky I am that you came to my shop instead of Marvella’s.”

  “Naw. How lucky I am,” he said, placing the warmed-up coffee cup in front of her. “Aromatherapy gets up my nose.”

  Delilah laughed. “You wouldn’t have noticed it with all the girls in skimpy outfits just waiting to fix you up.”

  “Nope,” he said, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. “I got little enough under my cap that I don’t need a cut often, and I can trim my own beard. But the best part of being here is the chocolate chip cookies, and the coffee.” He gave her a twinkling eye as she lifted a brow at him. “Though the company’s what really brings me back every week. Couldn’t find that across the street.”

  She smiled at him. “Thank you. I needed to hear you say that.” Glancing at the note in her hand, she said, “So. I’m down a girl. I guess that’s a good thing, considering I had to cut my staff in half two months ago.”

  “Heard those gals you had to let go are rocking it in Union Junction. Stopped through there last week to check on them, and every last one of them is happy in the salon they started. And the Jefferson brothers are fixing up the house for them real nice.”

  Delilah nodded. “That just leaves me to figure out why Hannah suddenly up and left me. It’s just so unlike her to be ditzy.”

  “Think it was the love bug.” Jerry emptied his coffee cup.

  “What love bug?”

  “The one she caught for Ranger Jefferson when he was here helping Laredo ride Bloodthirsty Black last month.”

  “I didn’t know she’d caught a bug,” Delilah said, surprised. “Seemed like she was totally focused on helping Katy metamorphasize into the woman-she-could-be to catch Laredo.”

  Jerry shrugged. “And at some point, Ranger got under Hannah’s skin. Only Hannah thought Ranger liked Cissy, so she gave him a wide berth. Hannah’s a firecracker when she’s made up her mind something’s one way or the other.”

  “But now Cissy’s gone and Hannah’s gone, so that means they struck out together. I just don’t imagine the two of them would willingly share a truck with Ranger Jefferson. Marvella can’t be right about that.”

  The phone rang in the kitchen, and Delilah answered it.

  “Hey, Mason. Fine, everything’s fine here.” Her eyes widened as she listened, giving Jerry a stunned glance. “No, Ranger’s not here. Neither is Archer. Haven’t seen either of them. Okay. Will do. See you this weekend.”

  She hung up the phone. “Malfunction Junction’s missing two cowboys. Twins. Mason sounded like he was standing in a pot of boiling water.”

  Jerry started laughing.

  “It’s not funny,” Delilah said, her good mood totally shot. “The four of them’ll not last long in the same truck. It’s a volatile mixture, and I wish Hannah was back here where she belongs before she gets her feelings hurt!”

  “DOES DELILAH KNOW you’ve gone?”

  Hannah’s eyes met Ranger’s in the rearview mirror of the truck. Dark and expressive eyes. She should have been able to read his thoughts.

  It annoyed her that she couldn’t. She’d never carried on a conversation with Ranger from behind, and she couldn’t measure him without being able to see the rest of his face or at least his posture—it was hard enough to feel comfortable around him when she could meet him face forward. Prickling ran down her arms and tingled her neck.

  “Hannah,” he said. “Does Delilah—”

  “Heard you,” she replied quickly, realizing his tone was telling her a lot, mainly that he thought she was ignoring him. “I left Delilah a note.”

  The dark gaze left the road and met hers in the mirror again for the briefest of moments. “Did something happen to make you leave?”

  I fell in love with you and had to get away from here knowing you didn’t feel the same about me. And did you have to kiss Cissy?

  Dumb question. There wasn’t a man alive who could resist Cissy.

  That didn’t mean she had to be Heartbroken Hannah. “Did you leave Mason a note?” she snapped back.

  His eyes hooded.

  “Then I assume nothing in particular happened to make you leave.” She settled herself in her seat and stared out the window. Beside her, Archer cleared his throat.

  “I didn’t leave a note. I signed my name to the pithy message Ranger left beside Mason’s plate,” he offered.

  She turned to stare at him, as did Cissy. Archer shrugged. “Seemed like Ranger said everything that needed to be said.”

  “I said I was going to join the military,” Ranger stated. “Did you actually read it before you John Hancocked it? Not writing your own note seems rather lazy, by the way, for a man who nearly wore his fingers out hitting the send button to Australia.”

  “Easy, bro,” Archer said mildly. “Ye ol’ love life is none of thy concern.”

  Hannah shook her head, perplexed. “Besides Mason who works hard, and Frisco Joe who figured it out, and now Laredo, who’s moved to North Carolina to be with Katy like a real man would, are all of you pretty much rascals?”

  “And relationship-dysfunctional?” Cissy put in. “It’s almost scary that the two of you could be in the same truck and not know it.”

  “How was I to know that my twin was a stowaway?”

  Cissy shrugged. “I heard twins had some special extrasensory perception for each other. Y’all seem to be blocking your ESP.”

  “Heaven forbid he could have just asked for a ride,” Ranger complained.

  “Heaven forbid you could have offered,” Archer rejoined.

  “Did I know you’d be up for the military?”

  “Did you think to ask?” Archer demanded. “Why did you think you could leave me behind with His Highness the Hardheaded?”

  Cissy and Hannah both turned to face Archer again.

  “Well, that’s what Mimi calls him,” Archer said sheepishly. “Mason, that is, before she quit hanging around our place.”

  “She probably had to leave out of self-defense,” Hannah said. “Your family isn’t exactly easy for a woman to bear.”

  In the mirror’s reflection, she saw Ranger’s eyebrows peak over his eyes. “How would you know?”

  Caught, because she didn’t want to admit that her feelings had been
hurt by Ranger, Hannah said, “Keep your eyes on the road, cowboy. All of us want to reach our varied destinations safe and sound.”

  “And I want to talk about your destination,” Ranger stated. “Where exactly are you two going?”

  Cissy turned completely to face Hannah. “I don’t know that it’s such a good idea to tell him. They’re just going to say that we don’t know what we’re doing.”

  “You said it for me,” Ranger pointed out. “I think it, I know it’s true and now you’ve put it out in the open. We’re all prepared for my reaction, so just say it: What’s your end-of-the-line destination?”

  “I called a friend of mine who runs a gambling riverboat in Mississippi,” Hannah said. “Cissy and I are going to be hostesses on the boat. Well, I’m going to be a card dealer. I got Cissy a job as a hostess.”

  Both men started laughing, immensely amused by the revelation. “Going to the good ship, Lollipop,” Archer sang, until Hannah’s annoyed expression brought his tune to an end.

  Ranger turned the truck at an exit ramp, parking at a truck weigh station and rest area. “Okay,” he said sternly. “All ladies out of my truck. I ain’t taking you any farther than this.”

  Cissy hesitated, but Hannah popped right out of the truck. “Fine,” she said. “I can get a better-looking, more polite and chivalrous ride, anyway. One that doesn’t poke his nose in my business and then laugh.”

  “Archer laughed, I just—”

  “Same thing. All you Jeffersons are alike. It’s your way or the highway. Well, I,” she said with a deliberate glare at Ranger as she tugged her leopard-print duffel from the truck, “don’t even think you’re that hot of a kisser.”

  “Huh?” Ranger and Archer said at the same time.

  “Now wait a minute—” Ranger began.

  “Kisser?” Archer stared at his twin. “Did you kiss her?”

  “Technically, it was a peck,” Ranger began.