Free Masked Cowboy (Men of the White Sandy) by Sarah M. Anderson

unexpectedly gentle.
    “She is now.”
    Jacob could almost feel the worry coming off the big man from several feet away. Finally, he said, “Keep her safe.”
    The tenderness with which he said this took Jacob by surprise. He wouldn’t have figured Nobody Bodine for having a soft touch around children. “I will.”
    Nobody took another step forward. Even a man like him was curious about an albino Indian. Looking as thoughtful as Jacob had ever seen him—which was to say, less mean than normal—Nobody added, “Does Rebel know about her?”
    Rebel Runs Fast? “The medicine man? I don’t know. I don’t go to the rez much.”
    As he watched, Kip’s eyes seemed to focus on Nobody’s scarred face. The big man and the small girl stared at each other. Both were creatures apart—not in the tribe, not in the world but just hovering between the two, invisible to everyone else. Could she really see him? Was that a gift she had, something mystical she’d inherited from her grandmother, or was there something else? Damn it, if he only knew what to do about her…
    Then Kip dropped her gaze and Nobody stepped farther back into the deepening shadows. “Call the clinic if you need Rebel.” Already, he sounded farther away. Even though Jacob was concentrating all of his effort on watching Nobody, the man still disappeared before his eyes. Maybe he was a shapeshifter after all.
    “Will I need him?”
    He didn’t get an answer.
     
     
    “She’s in good shape,” Mary Beth said as she finished palpating the mare.
    Jacob had selectively bred one of his two mustang stallions to the hardiest of McGillis’s mares on the ranch and charged McGillis for the stud fee. Although he only got a foal, maybe two, a year, he had created another self-sustaining herd. Jezebel was one of those crosses from about three years ago, and Jacob had told Mary Beth that when she got a bit steadier, he’d cross her with Tahalo down the road.
    Again, Mary Beth found herself marveling at how much planning went into everything Jacob did on both sides of the fence line. Nothing was accidental. She wondered if Jacob even knew what the phrase “by the seat of your pants” meant. She had the distinct feeling that if anything ever went off script, he might just flip out, although she had no idea what that would look like.
    But somehow, she managed not to say this to him, or even to Robin. The trick was to stay focused on the animals. “She’s got another seven months.”
    “Good, good,” Jacob replied, grinning as she stripped the shoulder glove off. “You got time to look at that colt? I don’t like the limp.”
    “Go get him,” she replied as she returned his smile. She liked that smile. She liked seeing more of it. After almost a month and a half, he was finally showing hints of his evening playfulness during the day. And in the two weeks since the sheriff had shown up, she hadn’t seen a single thing out of the ordinary.
    With a barely perceptible nod of his head, Jacob pivoted and was gone. Mary Beth sighed as she leaned against the munching mare. “Does he like me, or am I imagining things?” she asked.
    The mare whinnied at her. “Yeah. Probably imagining things,” she agreed as she began chucking her stuff out of the stall. With a small groan, she hefted the nylon bag over her shoulder and headed out.
    And right into the barrel chest of Buck McGillis.
    Shit , she thought as he took a step forward, forcing her to take a step back into the stall. But her mouth covered for her. “Mr. McGillis! Haven’t seen you much in the barn!”
    “Why, hello, Dr. Pretty Little Thing.” His gaze slid down her chest. “You’re as good a reason as any to come out and check on my investments,” he said, drawing the last word out as he reached out to touch her arm.
    Jesus, where is Jacob when I need him ? She tried to slip past his barrel chest. “Mr. McGillis,” she cautiously cooed, but she wasn’t fast enough. He latched his fingers on to her