Sunrise Canyon (New Americana 1)

She met his skeptical gaze. His eyes were the color of black coffee, brimming with hidden secrets. “Do you ride?” she asked.

“Hell, no. I’ve never been on a horse. I don’t even like them.”

“Why not? There has to be a story behind that.”

“Maybe.” He tossed a pebble down the canyon, watching as it bounced out of sight. “If there’s any kind of story, it goes way back. My father was a rodeo cowboy, and not a very good one. I couldn’t have been more than three or four years old when I saw him get bucked off an outlaw bronc that damn near trampled him to death before they pulled it away. He was in a lot of pain after that. Couldn’t work. Got into heavy drinking, beat on my mother and on me—she let him. The state finally took me away and put me in the foster system.”

Kira knew he’d had a rough childhood. Wendy had told her that much. But she’d never heard the details. “What happened to them—your parents?”

He shrugged. “My mother’s long gone. My father was in prison, last I heard. It’s not like we’re close.”

“I’m sorry.” Kira might have said more, but she sensed that this proud, wounded man wouldn’t welcome her sympathy. She rose, glancing at her watch. “Time for my students to start the day. I need to be getting back.”

“So do I. Dusty promised to put me to work. I just hope it doesn’t involve the horses.”

He stayed a few steps behind her as she wound her way along the narrow trail. At least they’d gotten off to a decent start this morning. But she doubted it would last. There were too many memories between them, too many painful truths left unspoken.

“I have one question,” she said. “If you’d wanted to be here, you would have shown up a long time ago. How did my grandfather get you to come with him? I can’t believe it was easy.”

His chuckle sounded more cynical than amused. “Easier than you think. He paid the fine to bail me out of the Coconino County Jail. I owe him a thousand dollars.”

Kira stifled a gasp, then shook her head. Why should anything about this man surprise her? “He told me you were working in a garage,” she said.

“I know. But why lie about it? It is what it is.”

“What did you do?” She paused, turning back to face him.

“Punched a smart-ass college kid in a bar. Cracked his jaw and knocked out one of his front teeth.”

“Why? What did he do?”

“Made a comment about our troops. When I told him to shut up, he took a swing at me. I swung back. Direct hit. If I had it to do over, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Even if it meant going to jail?”

“Believe me, there are worse places to be than jail.”

They were walking again, moving steadily up the trail, toward the ranch. The rising sun flashed above the crest of the mountains, flooding the land with light. In the valley below, a road construction crew, widening a narrow highway, had already started their workday. Muted by distance, the drills chewed into the rock, boring holes for the dynamite that would be rammed deep and detonated.

“How’s your cabin? Is it all right?” Kira asked, making small talk.

“It’s amazing. When I think of the old-time stars that have stood in that shower—”

He broke off as the booming roar of a dynamite blast echoed up from the valley. “Incoming!” he shouted. “Get down!” Diving for Kira, he shoved her to the rocky ground and flung himself, spreadeagled, on top of her. Facedown, she spat dirt as she thrashed and struggled, pinned under his solid weight. As she fought to get free, she could feel his heart pounding against her back, racing as if in terror.

Suddenly the truth hit her. Having dealt with veterans suffering from PTSD, it was something she should have already known.

Jake was trying to shield her with his body. He was trying to protect her.

At once, she stopped fighting him and willed her muscles to relax. “It’s all right, Jake,” she said in a calm voice. “There’s no danger. It’s just the men working on the road. They’re blasting the rock with dynamite.”

He was still for a moment, as if weighing what she’d said. As the crisis passed, she became aware of his warm, masculine weight pressing down on her, the hardness of his body, its pressure against her hips. Then the breath eased out of him. He rolled off her and, with a muttered curse, sat up.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked.

“No.” Kira scrambled to her knees. She had a skinned elbow and a cactus thorn pricking her leg, but she couldn’t let that matter. “You scared me at first, but then I realized you were trying to protect me.”

“Protect you from a damned silly noise. Booyah!” He pushed to his feet, his expression dark. “I shouldn’t even be out here with you.”