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

reached out as if he was going to stroke her hair like she’d seen him stroke the stallion but quickly drew his hand back. “I don’t want him to lurk around.”
    Old memories collided with new ones. Part of her wanted to wail in pity. Why were assholes always trying to force her? And poor Robin. No horses had galloped to her rescue. No one had saved her. Mary Beth’s stomach turned. She’d worked so hard to get away from Skeevy Greevy—away from anyone that could hurt her. And where had that gotten her? Working with—she refused to say for —a man who considered her body an investment ?
    “Breathe,” Jacob calmly ordered as she ducked her head between her knees. “In through the nose, out through the mouth.”
    She focused on the sound of his voice and was surprised when a sense of calmness filled her. The horror of the moment faded away, replaced with more of a sense of amazement at the whole stupid situation. How did he do that? Damn, but he was some sort of hypnotist. He had to be.
    Finally, the nausea passed. She looked at him. “Jesus, Jacob, what just happened? I mean, what the hell just happened?”
    “It was my fault,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. Not when he’s around. It won’t happen again.”
    “How can you be sure of that?”
    “I won’t let him hurt you,” he simply said, and she knew he wouldn’t. How weird was that? She wasn’t one to trust a man, with the lone exception of her Uncle Hank—but Jacob was different. Understatement of the century, what with the mask and—did Buck call him No Nose? Did he have a nose under there or not?
    But her thoughts turned back to Robin, of the way she shut down whenever anyone mentioned Buck. Of the way Jacob tried to look after her. “How many women are you protecting from Buck McGillis?” she asked as she rubbed her bruising arm.
    It was an odd thing to see such sorrow wash over his normally blank face. “I won’t be late again.”
    More than just Robin. Was he counting that little girl who probably wasn’t his daughter too? “It wasn’t an accusation,” she said as he turned away from her.
    He paused, not looking at her. “I know. Just a fact.”
    The horse snuffed as it lifted a piece of hay from the ground. “Jacob,” she asked carefully as her mind ran back over the flurry of motion that had saved her from McGillis, “did you let the horse go?”
    “No.”
    She shot him her cut-the-crap look—never as good as her mom’s, but it got the job done.
    “I didn’t let him go,” he protested.
    “I’ve never seen you lose control of an animal.”
    He sheepishly shrugged.
    Realization dawned on her. “You drove him down the aisle?”
    He leveled his eye at her, unreadable as always. “Worked, didn’t it?”
    For the first time since she’d run into Buck, Mary Beth smiled. “I didn’t cost you your job, did I?”
    “First, you didn’t do anything. Second, I make him too much money for him to fire me. Third, he’s all talk.”
    “I don’t know about that,” she replied, scrambling to her feet. “Not a lot of that seemed all talk to me.”
    “I’ll give you that. He’s all talk with men,” Jacob corrected. Mary Beth giggled, and he looked at her like maybe she’d hit the ground too hard. “What?”
    “‘This is America—learn the language,’” she snickered. “He’s not too smart, is he? Lakota is more American than English is. You guys were here first.”
    “Yeah, you’re okay. The mouth still works.”
    Tommy cleared his throat. She hadn’t heard him come back into the barn, but suddenly there he was standing next to Jacob. “He’s in the house.”
    “Hey, Tommy.” She smiled, trying to act like the whole thing had been just another day on the ranch. “Thanks for your help.”
    “No problem, Doc.” He blushed, looking more like the slightly shy guy he normally was. “Next time, threaten to castrate him.”
    She laughed out loud, and even Jacob chuckled. “I’ll do that,