Ride With Me (A Quaking Heart Novel - Book One)

  * * *

  During the days to follow, Jessica was completely lost. She observed Clint from a distance as he took charge. Though obviously saddened by the loss of the men, leadership came naturally to him. She almost wished she could experience the loss with all of them. Watching them grieve people she should have remembered left her feeling bereft and brittle, sad and empty.

  The cowboys worked on the reconstruction of the homestead, and each day, they said, it looked more like it had before. Mary and Rose Marie stayed with her in one of the small cottages that had withstood the quakes, yet she didn't feel she belonged with them. Life had settled into a routine of caring for the crew's needs—cooking, washing clothes, treating minor injuries—and yet she seemed more alone than ever.

  Clint stayed with the men most of the time. She knew they needed him for guidance during this tough time of rebuilding through their grief, but still she found herself missing him in spite of what little she knew about him.

  Each day the struggle to remember the past brought her to a point of exhaustion. A dark hole of depression loomed before her. She was sure she'd never allowed herself the trap of that state of mind, so what she needed was something constructive to do. Mary had asked her to retrieve a few household items from the main house. She'd start there.

  It was a hot day—not unusual for late August. Perspiration already dripped from her neck and skittered down her chest. Jessica fanned herself with her collar, glanced down to dodge broken ground, and looked up in time to see a striking blonde sashaying toward the barn from the other direction. Her fancy western outfit peaked Jessica's curiosity. Shorts, very short, revealed sleek, tanned legs. Her beaded cowgirl hat and boots matched. Long, fuchsia nails couldn't be missed, since every finger was graced with a ring of some sort. Her hair was pulled behind her ears, but otherwise floated in the light breeze at her back. Impressive, was the only thought that crossed Jessica's mind.

  Jessica slowed her pace. What in the world was this beauty queen doing on a cattle ranch amid shattered earth and splintered buildings? Jessica swung her gaze toward the woman's destination and saw Clint standing in front of the barn with those big hands spread at his hips. His Stetson was tilted back on his head while he conversed with a man on the roof. Jessica shifted back to the female.

  Wonder what she's doing here? The moment the question had fully formed, she found the answer. From behind, the beauty snaked her arms around an unsuspecting Clint and pressed her petite, though well-endowed, body into his back.

  Jessica's heart shot to her throat. Jealousy seized her like a fire-breathing dragon. All she wanted was to wreak havoc on the woman and fight for her man. Her man? What a laugh. Ever since she'd arrived at the cottage by the stream, she'd spent hours in front of a mirror trying to evoke memories, or at least trying to remember her own image. She knew, without a doubt, she wasn't in the same league as this stunning woman. Clint belonged with someone like her. Though it didn't surprise Jessica to see him with someone like that, it didn't relieve the feral jealousy or lessen the knife of pain.

  Not able to tear her gaze away, she watched Clint's reaction. At the initial contact he dropped his head to study the hands, then casually turned his head to one side to speak over his shoulder, as if he'd done it a hundred times before. Without letting loose, the woman slid under his arm to the front of him. This time she tilted her face up to his and smiled—a sparkling white smile.

  Lightheaded, Jessica realized she'd been holding her breath. I can't watch this. Gasping for air, she twisted about and ran full on toward the stream. Her eyes burned with tears even as she tried to convince herself that Clint wasn't hers to moon over. She had no rights to him. But, none of this makes sense. What of the way he held me and cared for me?

  She sifted through current memories for evidence of feelings he might have for her. Her heart sank. He'd been attentive on the trip here, yes. Concern only, then. That must have been all, given he'd left her in Johnnie's care and she'd barely seen him since.

  As she walked along the edge of the stream, her thoughts shifted. This path seemed familiar. The stream gurgled—almost melodically. The tension in her shoulders eased as she breathed deeply of clean, crisp air—cooled from its sweep over icy mountain water. The crystalline flow burbled over boulders and eddied into the banks. Jessica scanned the area for a place to sit and enjoy the serenity. A slightly angled boulder a few feet from the water's edge caught her eye.

  She continued forward and sat on the rough surface of the rock, pulled her knees up within her arms, and prayed for the umpteenth time that the Lord would return her memories. As she prayed, her attention drifted to a large rock in the center of the stream. It looked like a large hippopotamus's head just under the surface. The water flowed up its back, rushed to either side of its peak, and eddied back together beyond it. Her memories were like that; now precariously disrupted, needing to come together so she could move on with her life.

  She turned her gaze to the western horizon, wondering how the consummate artist would color it, when she heard a voice from behind her.

  "Hullo, pretty lady. Out here watching a Montana sunset, eh?" the deep voice drawled.

  She glanced over her shoulder and saw a cowpoke. "Oh, hello."

  He gave her a suspicious look.

  Seeing his reaction she added, "Do I know you?"

  His head tilted to one side. With a scowl of disbelief, he said, "You saying you don't know me?"

  Warmth rose in her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I was injured in the earthquake and lost a good bit of my memory. Where do I know you from? Are we friends?"

  A smirk drew his lips up in an odd angle. He leaned against the rock and struck a match across it. They both watched the bright flare come to life as he lifted it to his face to light a cigarette held by tobacco-stained lips. He spoke around it. "Oh yes, we're very good friends," He dragged in a puff of smoke and came closer.

  "Maybe you could tell me how I know you. What's your name?"

  "Name's Brad. I'm really disappointed you don't remember me, pretty lady. We're quite close. As a matter of fact, we're pinned, you and me."

  He sat down on the rock next to her and reached for her hand. With his other hand he took a deep drag and flicked his cigarette out into the stream. He turned and blew the smoke into her face, causing her to sputter and cough.

  She drew her hand out of his, dread coming over her like a black cloud. "I don't think we were all that close."

  His lips curved into a sinister grin. "Now, how would you know that?"

  "Listen, I need to get back to the cottage. It was . . . interesting seeing you again."

  She started to slide from the rock, but he encircled her waist and tugged her back to him. Reaching up, he captured her chin in a crushing grip. She shuddered in revulsion when his gaze centered on her lips. Knowing what he intended to do, she wrenched away. He grabbed a handful of her hair, and yanked back. She yelped and writhed, trying again to dislodge herself. Restraining her, he leaned in and slid his mouth down her neck, then back up to the soft skin beneath her ear.

  "You owe me a dance, pretty lady." His hot breath tickled her ear, and the rancid smell of it reached her nose, making her stomach turn. "I think I'll be taking more than that, if you don't mind." His whisper burrowed into her like a hideous tick.

  No, this can't happen! "Let go of me!" She screamed, scrambling to get off the rock. His hands pawed at her, ripping her blouse before he got another hold. His eyes scanned what he'd revealed and a lusty grin unfurled his mouth. He dragged her beneath him and held her down with his rangy body. She curled her fists and pummeled anything she could reach, even with the rock tearing at her back with every move.

  "Hold still! You're mine now." He trapped her lips with his.

  She bit down hard, bringing his blood to the surface.

  Rearing back, he raised a hand to strike her. "You stupid—" Someone caught his hand in midair.

  Jessica sensed the weight of his body being lifted off her
as two men threw him to the ground with a thud. They were landing hard punches to the beast's gut and face while curses flew on the air. Before they could get a strong hold on him, he ran off into the woods. The two men gave chase close on his heels.