For a moment he thought he’d killed her, but then she came to, gasping, eyes wild, hands going to her red and bruising throat. He watched her wheeze for breath as she scooted across the bed out of his reach.
Good, he thought. She needed to know exactly what she was dealing with if she ever betrayed him. She’d been getting a little too cocky for her own good lately. All that talk about the two of them getting married as soon as his divorce went through. Like he would tie a noose around his neck again, especially with a woman like her.
He found his shirt and pulled it on. As he walked out, he didn’t look back. Let her wonder if he would ever return. Women like Patty Conroe were a dime a dozen. Women like JoRay “Jinx” McCallahan were another story.
Regret flooded him as he climbed behind the wheel of his pickup. He’d blown it with Jinx. Talk about cocky. Once he had that ring on her finger, he thought he could just coast with her. He’d been dead wrong.
Letting out a snort, he still couldn’t believe that she was going to divorce him, though. But then again when Jinx threatened to do something, look out, because the woman was going to do it, come hell or high water.
As he started the engine, he reached over and pulled a can of beer from the near-empty six-pack he’d left on the seat. He told himself that he’d get Jinx back because he couldn’t live without her. He knew that now, he thought as he opened the beer and took a long pull on it.
Admittedly, he shouldn’t have cheated on her. He should have helped out around the ranch more. He should have done a lot of things differently. With a second chance, he would.
Not that it was all his fault. Jinx wasn’t an easy woman. She was too damned independent. Truth was, she didn’t need him and that stuck in his craw.
But now with her daddy in his grave, Jinx was all alone except for Max, that old cook of hers—and all those cattle that needed to be taken up to summer range in the high country.
Maybe she would realize that she couldn’t live without him, either. He’d heard that she was so desperate she had even advertised for wranglers out of state.
T.D. smiled to himself. Thanks to him, she was high and dry right now. No one around here was going to work for her. He knew most of the wranglers for hire because of all the years he’d gone from ranch to ranch as one. Unless they wanted to get on his wrong side—a bad place to be—they’d stay clear of Jinx and her ranch. And they had.
What better time to have a talk with her, he thought feeling good. He’d make sure it was just the two of them, restraining order or not. He’d charmed her into marrying him. Surely, he could charm his way back into her life—and her bed.
JINX MCCALLAHAN SLOWED her pickup as she spotted two trucks and horse trailers sitting in her ranch yard. She didn’t recognize either of them. After parking, she climbed out and took in the group waiting for her.
She shoved back her Western hat as she considered what looked like a straggly bunch of wranglers standing in the glow of her yard light. She told herself that beggars couldn’t be choosers since she had several hundred head of Herefords to get into the high country and time was running out.
Normally, she had no trouble hiring on help this time of year. She was no fool. Her inability to find local help was T.D.’s doing. He’d put the word out, forcing her to look for help much farther from home, but hadn’t heard anything. Unfortunately, word traveled fast among ranching communities about her “problems” with her soon-to-be ex-husband. She couldn’t blame anyone for not wanting to get into the middle of it, especially if they knew anything about T. D. Sharp.
But after stopping at the sheriff’s office, she’d run some errands, bought herself some dinner and made up her mind. She wasn’t going to let T.D. put her out of business even if she had to take the herd to summer range all by herself—just as she’d told the sheriff. Maybe she wouldn’t have to if any of these wranglers were decent hands, she thought now.
She stepped to the first cowboy who’d climbed out of the trucks and stood waiting for her. As he removed his hat, she looked into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen and felt a start. Was it the scar on his chin or something about his eyes? What was it about him that made her think she knew this man? Or had at least run across him sometime before? Surely, she would have remembered if she had stumbled across such a handsome cowboy.
Stress and lack of sleep, she told herself. Her mind was playing tricks on her. Or her body was. Because she felt strangely close to him as if they’d once shared something almost...intimate? She knew that was crazy. There’d never been that many men in her life.
Jinx shook her head. Her father’s illness, his death, T.D.... All of it had taken a toll on her, she knew. She couldn’t trust her mind or her body or her instincts. And if she and this man had met, wouldn’t he have said something?
“What’s your name?” she asked him.
“Angus Cardwell Savage, ma’am.”
“Cardwell?” Her eyes narrowed. “Any relation to the Cardwell Ranch in Montana?”
“Dana Cardwell Savage is my mother.”
She considered the tall, lanky, good-looking cowboy for a moment, telling herself that she had to be wrong
