Free Rebel Heart by Barbara McMahon

baking to wile away the hours. The gingerbread was ready to come out of the oven when she finally heard his truck. Spaghetti sauce simmered on the stove, garlic bread stood ready to be heated.
    Flicking a glance out the window, she turned to pull out the fragrant cake. Cleaning up the last of the bowls and wiping down the counter to give herself something to do, she waited for Jase to come in.
    “Something smells good.” His easy comment annoyed her. She wanted to know where he had been and why he hadn’t told her he was going into town. She’d been worried about him and he walked in as casual as he pleased.
    “Gingerbread,” she said shortly.
    He paused, his hat still in his hand, and looked at her, studying her tense stance, her snapping eyes.
    Slowly his lips lifted in that grin that wreaked so much havoc on her equilibrium. “Something wrong, darlin’?” he drawled, tossing the hat on the table and walking over to her.
    “No. I didn’t know you were going to be gone all day. It’s almost supper time.” Her voice was tight with suppressed emotion.
    “I should have told you I was going into town, but you were still asleep when I left.” His hand came up to brush against her cheek.
    She knocked it away. “I was not. I saw you drive off.”
    “Well, you must have just gotten up then. Next time I’ll wait until you’re awake. I told Gary to tell you.” He sounded so reasonable her anger grew.
    “He did.”
    “So what’s the problem?”
    “Why did you go to town?” She bit her lower lip. Damn, she hadn’t wanted to subject him to an inquisition. It wasn’t her business and if he told her so it would be no more than she deserved.
    Instead, he grinned again. “What’s the matter, darlin’, you think I went into town to duck work for the day? Cut out to play?”
    “No.” But she had. She’d thought exactly that. Bobby never could stay on the ranch more than a few days before he had to find some action.
    “Yes, you do.” His hand encircled her neck beneath her braid and gently rubbed the tight muscles. “I went in to talk to the sheriff about your theft. Then I went to buy a computer. You need to get things automated to cut down on the work, and give you instant access to information. Next I stopped in at the cattleman’s association and got the current price of beef. I had my bank wire-transfer the money into your account. I now own three hundred head of that cattle on the range. Now we need to figure out how much land I need to lease till winter.”
    His fingers slowly massaged her skin. Tingling shivers of awareness pulsated in rhythm with her heart. Heat began to spread from his hand to every cell in her body. She began to soften, weaken, longed to move against the strength before her and lean on him. Yet she knew that way lay danger. He was too potent for her. She was too fragile and afraid to take a chance.
    “I’ll make you a bill of sale after dinner,” she said stiffly, clamping down tightly on the emotions that threatened to spill over.
    “It can wait until tomorrow. After dinner we’re going back to town.”
    “Why?”
    “To have a little fun. I noticed The Big Bonanza on the square when I drove through town today. They’ve got a live band tonight so I thought we could go in and dance some.”
    She stepped back, breaking his hold. “I don’t dance.” She turned back to the counter, testing the gingerbread, moving to the stove to stir the spaghetti sauce.
    “Besides, I don’t have time to be going into bars and partying the night away. I have a ranch to run,” she added. Was that all rodeo cowboys thought about, having a good time?
    “You don’t seem to have time for fun at all,” he said, leaning against the counter, crossing his arms across his chest, the cast already turning dull from the dirt on the ranch.
    “I have a ranch to run, responsibilities—”
    “Dammit, Shannon, you make it sound like a sacred quest. Everyone around these parts has a ranch to run, but