Read Takin' The Reins for Free Online Page B

I’m sorry. Please, come in and sit down.” She excused herself and set the knife on the counter.
    After closing the door behind himself, Wyatt removed his cowboy hat and entered. He sank into the cushions of the old sofa and placed his hat on his lap. Tag coiled into a ball at his feet and started to snore. Jordan curled into the armchair. She smoothed down her tee shirt and tucked her feet under her legs.
    “Do you always wear your hat?” she asked. She thought it unusual for someone to be wearing a cowboy hat in the middle of the night. The question must have struck him funny because his head tilted and he laughed.
    “I’m rarely without my hat.”
    “Oh.” He was grinning; a lopsided smile that was both sexy and roguish, and his green eyes twinkled with mischief. But she hadn’t invited him in to flirt. She told him about the crashing sounds outside and the beam of light that came through the window. “I saw a truck speeding away and then the phone rang and it was a crank call. I don’t think it was a coincidence.”
    Wyatt nodded. “The garbage cans are scattered on the ground out by the barn.”
    She leaned forward. “You said you saw a truck driving by your house. You didn’t happen to recognize it, did you?”
    “I’m not positive, but I have a pretty good idea who the truck belongs to.”
    “Who?”
    “It looked like there was a dent in the side. I think it’s owned by a man named Joe Campbell. I’ve seen it around town.”
    The breath caught in Jordan’s throat. “He was one of the men in the café this afternoon. He and another guy were watching my every move. Cole told me they work for Addison Stillwell. And I know all about Mr. Stillwell.”
    Wyatt homed in on the other man she mentioned. “Cole? You mean Cole Roberts?”
    “Yes. Do you know him?”
    He chuckled. “Sure, I know him. Tulie’s a very small town, Jordan.”
    He’d gotten familiar with her fast. He kept using her first name like they were old friends, but for some reason, she didn’t mind. She liked the way he said her name in that smooth and slow drawl.
    “So, you struck up a conversation with Cole Roberts in the café?” he asked.
    “Actually, he spoke to me first. I was just being polite.”
    “Sure. All the pretty ladies are polite to Cole.”
    Jordan squared her jaw. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Oh, nothin’. I just never see Cole Roberts talking to any ugly women, that’s all.”
    She had to hold in a grin. “That’s not a very nice thing to say.”
    “I don’t mean anything by it, Jordan. Forget I said it if it bothers you.” He tossed his hand into the air. “Now, let’s get back to these men you said were watching you in the café. One was white, one was Mexican, right?”
    “Yes. How did you know?”
    “Good guess.”
    “Okay…” Her voice trailed off. She wondered if he’d walked by the window and seen her in the café. “Anyway, Cole said their names were Joe and Cinnamon something.”
    “Cimarron.” Wyatt corrected her with a deep laugh. “Joe Campbell and Cimarron Cruz. They’re a couple of petty criminals. Worth less than the crap on the bottom of my boots.” He leaned forward and delved deep into her eyes. “Stillwell didn’t waste any time, and he hasn’t even introduced himself to you yet.”
    There was that name again. Stillwell. “I’ve only been in town for a day,” she reminded him. The intensity of his electric green eyes stirred something deep within her—alarm bells. Wyatt Brannigan was charming, for a cowboy. But she’d been charmed before and it only led to heartbreak. She shifted her feet under her bottom and felt naked under his scrutiny.
    “I think the pranks tonight were just a teaser for what’s to come,” he said. “Stillwell’s played this game before, with Lydia. It might not be long before he makes a personal house call.”
    “That’s exactly what Cole said!”
    “Is that so? I guess great minds think alike.” He leaned back and