did your family say to this news?”
He shifted his hat in his hands. Why hadn’t he stopped there first? “I haven’t been there yet.”
Her frown deepened. “Why?”
“Since there are five Morgans and only two Wards, I thought…” He stopped short of telling her why he’d dropped everything in Denver, shifting his current bodyguard gig to another agent just to race out to the Flying W.
“You thought we would be the easier target, didn’t you?” Jennie’s lips tightened into a thin line. She walked across the wooden decking, leaned a hip against the rail and stared out at the pine, fir and aspens sprinkled across the hillside.
In profile, her face appeared more drawn and worried than when he’d first seen her. The sudden urge to take that worry away from her pushed him forward and he took her hands. “Jennie, I work as a bodyguard. Let me protect you and your father.”
She stared down at his hands and gently pulled hers free. “Dad will never go for it. He wouldn’t tolerate a Morgan on Ward land for the amount of time it takes for him to say ‘get the hell off.’ You remember how it was. Nothing’s changed.”
Oh, he remembered all right. The nights he’d driven his truck up to the gate with the lights off and hiked up to the house just to see her. The stolen kisses behind the barn and the walks in the moonlight through the woods. He remembered all too well, as a familiar surge of longing threatened to muddy his thoughts. “I know, but we’re both older and smarter than we were ten years ago. Surely he still isn’t carrying a grudge against the Morgans.”
Jennie’s eyebrows rose. “Please. You’re talking about Hank Ward, a man with the memory of an elephant. Whatever got them started on their silly feud is as fresh as the day it began. And you know as well as I, he’s as stubborn as that old mule out in the pasture. No way he’ll let you or anyone else protect him.”
“You don’t understand. These guys are playing for keeps. This is life or death.”
“And every day on the ranch isn’t life or death?”
When Cameron would have argued more, the sound of horses’ hooves pounding toward them caught his attention. A sorrel horse with an empty saddle raced toward the house, ears pinned back and eyes wild. At the last moment, it veered toward the barn.
Jennie pushed away from the rail. “That’s Red, Dad’s horse.” She was off the porch and running toward the barn, following the direction of the horse.
Cameron took off after her, his heart pounding against his ribs. Was he too late? Had whoever was responsible for all the killing already got to Hank Ward?
Before he cleared the side of the house, he heard the sound of a motorcycle engine revving.
Astride a four-wheeler, Jennie gunned the handle and spun around in the gravel headed straight for him.
“Wait!”
She dodged him and took off across the lawn and through the open gate leading out of the barnyard.
Cameron hopped on the back of another four-wheeler, kick-started the engine and spewed gravel in a tight turn.
Jennie was already halfway up the hillside before he passed through the gate. With a wide-open throttle, he sped after her, hoping his four-wheeling skills hadn’t gotten too rusty to keep up.
“Slow down!” Cameron called out when he pulled up beside her. “You won’t do him any good if you kill us both in the process.”
“No way. He could be hurt.” She twisted the handle sending more gas to the engine and the vehicle leaped forward.
After several minutes of hard riding they topped the rise and descended into a mountain meadow filled with blue columbines and wild irises. The leaves on the aspens were a fresh spring green. If they weren’t in such a hurry, Cameron would stop and soak up the beauty of being home in the mountains. He’d forgotten how much he missed the ranch.
But his focus remained on keeping Jennie in his sights. If he lost her, he might not find her in the vastness of the Flying W Ranch.
She topped another rise ahead of him, her vehicle slowing to a stop. Standing tall on her footrests, her head turned side to side.
Cameron pulled up beside her, set his cycle in neutral and rested his foot on the brake. Below them was another high mountain meadow. Cattle grazed, small brown specks amidst the lush green grasses.
“We moved these cattle up here yesterday. He and Rudy, our ranch hand, came up to check on them today and fix the fence in the far west corner of this meadow, past that line of trees.”
From his perch atop the ridge, Cameron scanned the meadow. Not a human could be seen, only cows. “Come on.” He shifted into gear and plunged down the side of the steep slope, dodging between the young junipers and firs dotting the east-facing slope.
Jennie followed and soon surged ahead. Skirting the herd, she led him toward a stand of old ponderosa pine. As she neared the far edge of the meadow, she slowed, allowing Cameron to close the distance and pull alongside.
As they entered the shadowy canopy of native forest, Cameron moved into the lead. Careful to dodge massive tree trunks, fallen brush and protruding roots, he hurried through the clump of trees to the other side. He could see sunlight ahead, and was that movement?
“Hey!” A voice carried to him above the roar of the motorcycle engine. At the edge of the clearing stood a young man Cameron didn’t recognize. Leaning against him with his arm draped over the young man was Hank Ward, an angry scowl marring his face.
Jennie skidded to a stop ten feet from her father. She killed the engine, leaped off the seat and raced to his side. “Dad, what happened?”
“Fell off my horse,” he grumbled.
The young man frowned. “He didn’t just fall off his horse.”
Hank glared at him, his expression fierce. “Hold your tongue, boy.”
“What happened, Rudy?” Jennie asked.
Rudy glanced at Jennie, a worried frown on his young forehead. “Someone fired a shot at him. It hit the ground in front of Red’s hooves. Spooked him so bad, he dumped Hank on the ground and lit out like his tail was on fire.”
“Damned horse reared so fast…” Hank shook his head. “I haven’t fallen off my horse since I don’t remember when.”
“Where are you hurt?” Jennie scanned her father from head to toe.
“Only my tailbone, my ankle and my pride.”
“It’s his left ankle. He couldn’t get it into the stirrup to mount and he couldn’t balance on his sore ankle long enough to get on my horse from the other side.”
“I can walk just fine,” Hank groused.
“Yeah? How about you prove it?” Rudy lifted Hank’s arm from around his neck, but Hank stopped him.
“Okay, okay. So my ankle’s
