Texas Free (The Tylers of Texas 5)

“The same,” he said. “But if your offer includes being nice to me, I just might lower the price for you.”

Rose swore under her breath. She had no intention of being “nice” to this foul man; but if she wanted the truck, getting it might take some tough negotiating.

She was bending in for a closer look at the engine when she heard the rasp of deep breathing behind her. A hard ridge pressed against the seat of her jeans, butting and rubbing. At the same time, a clumsy hand tugged at the envelope of bills she’d stuffed into her hip pocket.

A murderous, fear-driven rage exploded inside her. With a grunt of fury, she twisted out from under the hood, and flung her strength into one desperate, upward-swinging blow.

She was less than half the man’s size, and her fist might have glanced off, but she managed to hit him in the eye, hard enough to hurt. As he staggered back, bellowing in surprise and pain, she charged in and landed a kick to his groin.

He doubled over, cursing, but didn’t go down. Rose stumbled back, falling against the truck as he lumbered toward her. “You little bitch!” he snarled. “I’ll show you!”

Rose glanced around for any kind of weapon she could use. A length of rusty pipe lay nearby, half buried in the greasy dirt. Snatching it up, she braced herself to fight for her life.

CHAPTER FIVE

“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, MISTER. BACK OFF, NICE AND SLOW.”

Tanner stood framed in the open doorway of the garage, an icy scowl on his face and a revolver in his hand. Startled, Rose stared at him. In her panic, she’d forgotten he was outside.

“Are you all right?” he asked Rose.

Rose gripped the pipe she’d found. Her pulse was still racing, pumping adrenaline through her body. Somehow she managed to nod.

“You.” Tanner’s eyes were riveted on the man. “Zip your damned fly and get down on your knees.”

The man did as he was told. “Don’t hurt me,” he blubbered. “I was only havin’ a little fun with the lady.”

“Shut up!” Tanner snapped. “Rose, do you want me to beat the shit out of this bastard before we go?”

“I was about to do that myself, but he’s not worth the effort.” Still breathing hard, Rose tossed the pipe to the ground. “Actually, I had my eye on that truck. But I can’t make an offer until I’ve driven it on the road.”

“No problem.” Tanner kept the gun level. “I’ll keep an eye on our friend here while you take it for a test run.”

“Thanks. While you’re at it, maybe you can talk him down on the price. Ten thousand’s a little too steep for me.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Rose climbed into the driver’s seat again. The truck had stopped running. She started it again, backed up, and drove out through the opening in the far side of the fence.

Only after she’d turned the corner, out of sight, did she begin to shake. With the engine still running, she pulled off the road, shifted into neutral, and laid her forehead on the steering wheel.

Breathe . . . just breathe . . . It’s all right. You’re safe, she told herself.

After a few minutes, she felt calm enough to drive. She put the truck in gear, pulled back onto the road, and took a shortcut to the highway. The truck handled fine. But as she turned around and drove back toward the

gate, she felt the anger returning—anger not only at the man who’d assaulted her but at herself.

Why had she assumed she could handle the garage owner when one look should have alerted her to what he was? Why hadn’t she asked Tanner to come inside with her, or gone back to the Rimrock and waited for Jasper to drive her to town?

But she knew the answer to that question. Life had taught her some bitter lessons. But one stood out. In the end, she could count on no one but herself. People lied to her, brutalized her, or simply went away. Even the best of them, like her grandfather and Ramón and María, had died and left her devastated and alone. As for Jasper, she knew he cared for her; but his first loyalty was to Bull. And Bull was as unpredictable as lightning.

Tanner had saved her today. But his actions had shown her that he wasn’t the simple cowboy he pretended to be. Ham Prescott had kept a few hired guns around his ranch—she remembered that because they’d threatened her grandfather. It came as no surprise that Ham’s son would do the same.

The knot in the pit of her stomach tightened as she drove back through the gate. Tanner and the garage owner were waiting where she’d left them, Tanner still holding his pistol on the big man.

“So how do you like the truck?” Tanner asked her as she climbed out of the cab.

Rose tightened her jaw and narrowed her gaze, assuming the mask she wore when she was nervous. “Not bad. But can I afford it?”