Free In a Cowboy's Arms (Hitting Rocks Cowboys) by Rebecca Winters Page A

because of the pneumonia plaguing him. Martha had just served him his lunch. She smiled at Jarod as he walked into the bedroom.
    “I’ll stay with him while he eats,” he told her.
    “He’s in better spirits than I’ve seen him in a long time.”
    Jarod figured that might have had something to do with the visit from the gorgeous blonde on the neighboring ranch. Being with her last night had shaken him, though he wasn’t sure in such a positive way.
    You were my life, Jarod, but I thought you didn’t want me. I thought my life was over. I was devastated to think you’d decided it wouldn’t be wise to marry the daughter of Daniel Corkin. He hated you.
    Even though he’d talked to his uncle, it had taken until early morning before the cloud over Jarod’s mind had dispersed and he’d allowed himself to dig deeper for answers. Daniel wasn’t the only person who’d hated Jarod enough to cause him injury. He could think of another man who matched that description.
    A member of his own family.
    Since Sadie’s return to Montana, Ned had shot him glances that said he’d like to wipe Jarod off the face of the earth. Ned had always been up to trouble and had taken it upon himself to be chief watch dog of Jarod’s activities. Was it possible he’d heard about Jarod’s plans to marry Sadie?
    Jarod couldn’t imagine it, but if that was the case, then he understood the hate that could have driven Ned to prevent the ceremony from taking place. Couple that with his drinking and a scenario began to take form in Jarod’s mind.
    “I’m glad you’re here, son,” Ralph Bannock said. “We need to talk.”
    His grandfather’s raspy voice jerked him from his black thoughts to the present. Since Jarod’s father’s death, his grandfather, whose thinning dark hair was streaked with silver, had started calling Jarod “son.” Though he and Jarod were the same height, his grandfather had shrunk some. He was more fragile these days, and there were hollows in his cheeks.
    He was propped against a pillow, sipping soup through a straw. Martha kept him shaved and smelling good. Today he had on the new pair of pajamas Connor had brought him.
    Jarod spied a newly framed five-by-seven photograph placed on the bedside table. His breath caught when he realized it was a picture of his grandfather and Sadie taken when she couldn’t have been more than six or seven. She was a little blond angel back then, sitting on the back of a pony.
    His grandfather’s eyes misted over when he saw where Jarod was looking. “Sadie gave me that last evening. I remember the day her mother brought her over to see the new pony. Addie took a picture of us and gave it to her. Sadie said that was one of the happiest memories of her life and wanted me to have it.... With that father of hers, she didn’t have many good ones. There was always sweetness in that girl.”
    No one knew that better than Jarod. He’d never forgotten the day they’d rode into the rugged interior of the Pryors to find one of the wild horse herds. They’d come across a mare attending her foal, their shiny black coats standing out against the meadow of purple lupine. He and Sadie had watched for several hours. “I wish that little foal was mine. I never saw anything so beautiful in my life, Jarod.”
    The scene was almost as beautiful as Sadie herself. That was the day their souls joined.
    Jarod knew in his gut Leslie Weston was becoming more serious about him, yet he kept holding back. It wasn’t fair to her. She’d invited him to Colorado to meet her family, but he wasn’t there yet.
    When Sadie left again for California, maybe that would be the spell-breaker for him. So far no other woman had ever gotten past the entrance to that part of him where Sadie lived. She was his dream catcher, trapping the memories that would always haunt his nights.
    Last night his uncle had listened to him before giving him a warning. “Consider the wolf that decides it is better to risk death for