Rode Hard, Put Up Wet (Rough Riders 2)

Rather than snap off a smart answer, Gemma escaped. Cash shouted her name but she didn’t slow down until she’d reached the area where she’d parked her horse trailer.

She zigzagged through the maze of silver and black steel until she found hers. Leaning her forehead against the heated metal, she fumbled for her keys.

Fool fool fool. Dammit. Why had she hoped Cash would wait around for her to get her head on straight? Especially after she’d told him she didn’t want to get involved with him at all? What had she expected? And why in the hell had she bolted like a spooked filly the second she’d seen him? Lord. She was forty-eight years old, not eight.

Dry grass crunched behind her and she wheeled around.

Cash’s luminous, coffee-colored eyes stared back at her. “Dammit, Gemma, I know you heard me yellin’ at you. Why didn’t you stop?”

“Because I didn’t want to intrude.”

“Intrude on what?”

She turned, shoving the key in the locked door. “Don’t tease me, Cash.”

“Tease you? I know I ain’t always the brightest bulb in the box, but what the devil are you talkin’ ’bout? Intrude on what?” He grabbed her shoulder and forced her to look at him.

“You and—”

Just then the gorgeous young Indian princess sidled in behind Cash. Silent. Watchful.

A stunning vision of youth and beauty. A sharp reminder of everything Gemma was not.

“Me and who?” he demanded.

Her. “Never mind.”

“Huh-uh. I ain’t seen you in almost a year so I wanna know why you were lookin’ for me.”

Gemma ground her teeth together.

“If you were so hell-bent on findin’ me why’d you race off without sayin’ a word?”

“Because once I found you, I realized it was a bad time. I didn’t mean to interrupt you…and your girlfriend. Besides, I figured I’d catch up with you later.”

A sly smile lit up Cash’s face. “Then why am I the one who had to chase you down, eh?”

Crap.

“Lemme tell you what I think.” His breath tickled her ear as he whispered, “I believe you took off because you’re jealous.”

Jealous? More like mortified. Gemma had half a mind to crawl under the horse trailer and hide until Cash and his jailbait buckle bunny disappeared. She managed a small snort of disgust. “Jealous? Not hardly.”

“Really? You want an explanation for what you saw by the corrals?”

Yes. “No.”

“Or an introduction to my girlfriend?”

The girlfriend gasped.

“You don’t owe me nothin’, Cash. Just forget it.”

Cash grabbed the young woman’s hand, dragging her front and center. “I’d love to milk this jealous side of you for all it’s worth, but I ain’t that mean. Or that patient.

Gemma, meet my daughter, Macie Honeycutt. Macie, Gemma Jansen.”

Chapter Two

Relief swept through Gemma.

“Ah. She’s the one you told me about,” Macie said with a charming grin exactly like her father’s.

“Daughter?” Gemma repeated.

Cash kept his gaze on hers. “Yep.”

“I-I didn’t know you had any kids.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Gem.”

A pointed silence thickened the air.

“Well, this is fun… not,” Macie said.

“Macie, darlin’, I know you just pulled in and we’ve got some catchin’ up to do. But I’d appreciate it if you’d run along for a bit and wait for me by the main entrance until after I have a private word with Miz Jansen.”

“Fine. I hate being a third wheel anyway. But don’t be surprised if I make a few new friends on my own.”

He shot his daughter a warning look. “Stay away from them cowboys, Macie, I mean it.”

Macie rolled her eyes. “You wish. Later.” She vanished around the corner.

They were alone.

“You finished with your snit?” he asked softly.

“It wasn’t a snit,” Gemma retorted.

“Whatever.” Cash curled his big hands over her shoulders. “So, happy as I am to see you again, it pisses me off that you think I’d be knockin’ boots with a woman the same age as my daughter.”

The warmth of his touch sent tingles down the center of her body. “Far as I know, the young bunnies hovering around an experienced cowboy like yourself could be exactly your type.”

“Wrong. But I don’t think you tracked me down just to chew my ass for who you suspect might’ve been rockin’ my horse trailer.” His hands fell away. “So why don’t you cut to the chase and tell me why you’re really here, eh?”

Gemma studied him. The regal bone structure in his face highlighted the intriguing crosshatch of facial lines, courtesy of the years he’d spent working outdoors. When he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkled and added to his rugged good looks.

“I heard you quit rodeoin’ fulltime.”

“Yeah? Who’d you hear that from?”

“Colby McKay.” She paused. “Is that true?”

“Pretty much.”

“Why? I figured you’d be chasing the gold buckle and silver spurs until you were a grizzled old man.”

Cash shook his head. “Between seein’ Mike Morgan’s career endin’ injury and Colby bein’ damn lucky to be alive after getting stomped by a bull, I decided to quit while I still had a choice. In the last two years, most days I rode I felt like a grizzled old man anyway.”

“So what’ve you been doin’ to earn a living?”

Color darkened his cheekbones and he raised his chin a notch. “Whatever I can.”

“Like?”

“Like I spent the winter fixin’ houses on the rez. Then I helped a buddy down by Hot Springs during calvin’ season. Lately I’ve been wranglin’ rodeo stock for the contractors.

I ain’t got a place of my own to maintain so I’m flexible. I can go anywhere at the drop of a hat.”

Gemma overlooked his embarrassment. It was a point of pride for white-line cowboys to own a chunk of land, to have a place of their own to call home if the road to rodeo glory ever quit calling them. Now that she really thought about it, why hadn’t Cash ever talked about why he didn’t have a place of his own? Was that a conscious choice?

“Does that mean you prefer to keep moving around rather than have a steady income?”