Today was Thursday, and nobody had an appointment scheduled to view his horses until the weekend. Besides, she didn’t exactly seem as though she was in the market to buy a horse.
“You sure don’t look much like your football pictures.”
Jackson narrowed his eyes. Had the paparazzi tracked him down again? “People change after six years.” He pulled his hat lower on his forehead. His looks weren’t the only way he’d changed; his heart and lifestyle had both taken a one-eighty. “Just who are you, anyway?”
“Uh—” the woman licked her pink lips “—I’m Mariah Louisa Reyes.”
Mariah Reyes. The name didn’t ring any bells. Should he know her? A memory invaded his mind—of a phone call several weeks back. A memory of a reporter from the Dallas Observer visiting the ranch so he could write an article on Angelfire. Something Jackson had regretfully allowed his brother, Evan, to cajole him into.
“Are you the reporter?” Hailey asked. “Uncle Evan said you’d be coming.”
What was that reporter’s name? Rayburn—something. Raymond? Reyes? The uneasy feeling in Jackson’s belly swirled faster than an Oklahoma tornado.
No!
“Yes,” the woman said. “I work for the Dallas Observer. I’m supposed to stay here for a few days and observe how you gentle and train horses for rodeos for a story I’m writing.” She moved a step to the side, winced and met Jackson’s gaze, her black eyes shining like polished onyx. “People will be fascinated to learn how your life has changed since you quarterbacked the Tornados, Mr. Durant. The story will run in our Where Are They Now? series.”
“Oh, goodie,” Hailey squealed, bouncing up and down, clapping her hands together. “You’re gonna be in the paper, Daddy.”
Great. Where Are They Now? series? Caution crept up his spine. He’d worked hard to maintain his privacy the past years since moving to the ranch and didn’t want strangers knowing where he lived. Besides, that article didn’t sound like one that would promote the ranch—and that was his only reason for agreeing to it. Jackson cleared his throat. “You’re the same reporter who talked to my brother, Evan Durant, and made arrangements to come here?”
The woman nodded.
He yanked off his hat and smacked it against his leg. “But I thought you were a man.”
Ms. Reyes heaved a derisive snort. “Not hardly. Whatever gave you that idea?”
Where had he come up with it? Evidently he’d made a false assumption—or had his brother purposely led him in that direction, knowing he’d never allow a woman to stay at Angelfire? Evan was going to get a tongue-lashing. His brother knew he avoided women whenever possible, and he couldn’t believe that Evan would make arrangements for one to stay at the ranch. Jackson never would have agreed to an interview if he’d known he’d be stuck with this prissy female.
He’d left the football high life and all its painful memories behind when he inherited the ranch from his uncle. And he certainly didn’t want to spend even a few days in the company of a beautiful woman. The last time he did that, his life had turned upside down and inside out. He shut his eyes, refusing to think again of the woman he’d let into his life years earlier—the one who’d nearly destroyed him.
Curling the rim of his hat, he studied the dust on his boots. Dust this feisty female had stirred up. Somehow, Jackson had the feeling dirt wasn’t the only thing this lovely, outspoken reporter would stir up. He just hoped she didn’t dig up any dirt from his past. He preferred to keep that buried.
He smacked his hat against his leg again. His daughter had nearly gotten killed. His filly had galloped off, and his dog had come close to getting run over. Better to end this now before it got any more out of hand. Jackson slapped his hat onto his head and glared at the reporter. “Ma’am, you can just head back to Dallas and forget about that interview.”
Mariah couldn’t voice the words that came to her mind with a child present. She’d finally drawn her first travel assignment, only to end up in the middle of Who-Knows-Where, Oklahoma, chased by a crazy person in a truck, with her beloved Mustang wrapped around a tree. And now this.
She narrowed her eyes and glared at J. D. Durant. She wasn’t about to let this washed-up jock-turned-rancher chase her away or frustrate her any more than he already had. Moving slowly and testing each limb for pain, she ducked into the car. She pushed back the deflated air bag and sneezed again as the white powder danced in the air. Kneeling on the driver’s seat, she reached across to the passenger’s seat to grab her handbag. A sharp burning sensation exploded in her knee, sending pain throughout her leg. She sucked in a sharp gasp and backed out. As if sharing her hurt, the car door uttered an eerie, unnatural screech when she forced it shut.
Scowling at Jackson Durant, she limped to the rear of her car. With great effort, she willed the trembling in her hands to stop, pressed the button on the remote and popped open the trunk. At least the rear end of the car had avoided damage.
Hard footsteps marched toward her, sending her pulse racing. J.D. hovered beside her, breathing loudly. A flash of her father, doing the same right before he knocked her silly, sent a shiver scurrying along her spine.
“What do you think you’re doing?” His deep voice buzzed her ears like an angry hornet. Steeling herself, Mariah ignored Mr. Durant and grabbed her largest bag. Giving it a hard yank, she pulled it from the trunk then dropped it to the ground. She turned around and reached in for her tote bag.
Sunshine entered her peripheral vision for a moment as Mr. Durant bent and picked up her suitcase, then tossed it back into the trunk.
“I said there isn’t going to be an interview, so there’s no point in you staying.”
Mariah straightened and, for the first time, realized what an imposing figure Jackson Durant presented up close. His photos didn’t do him justice—or maybe the country life agreed with him. With that dusty cowboy hat on his head he had to be close to a foot taller than her. Eyes amazingly similar to the dark blue of the Texas Tornados’ football uniform blazed at her, daring her to argue. An angular jaw framed a handsome tanned face, and his pleasingly straight nose looked out of place on an athlete. Dark brows that matched thick hair the color of black coffee arched as she continued to study him.
Rattled for a nanosecond, she regrouped and returned his stare, leaning even closer. A victorious smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Just how do you propose I leave?”
His eyes flickered with confusion for a brief moment then opened wider as understanding dawned. A muscle quivered in his jaw. His lips tightened into a pale line, revealing a pair of intriguing dimples in his cheeks.
At least one good thing would come from her car being almost totaled—she just might stay at Angelfire Ranch long enough to get her story. It had been at least an hour’s drive since she’d passed a motel of any sort and much longer since seeing a decent one.
“I’m stranded,” she said, not even trying to keep victory from her voice.
“She’s right, Daddy.” The young girl sidled up to her father and took his hand. “Her car’s all smashed up, so she cain’t leave.”
“‘Can’t,’ not ‘cain’t.’”
