In order to give him and Caitlan a minute before they were bombarded with questions, J.T. halted Quinn by the corral, some fifty yards away from his men. J.T. dismounted, then stepped back to give Caitlan room to do the same. Moving slowly, stiffly, she swung her leg over Quinn's rump and lowered herself to the ground, grimacing. Still holding on to the saddle, she groaned.
A deep chuckle escaped him. He didn't have to ask to know that, not being a seasoned rider, Caitlan would be sore from the rough ride and cramped quarters of the saddle, her legs probably the consistency of cooked spaghetti.
She attempted to glare at him for laughing at her expense, but he saw the sparkle of humor in her eyes. "Thanks a bunch, Rafferty. This is your fault, you know."
Hooking his thumbs in his belt loops, he lifted a brow. "Really?"
She straighten moderately and gave another moan for the effort it cost her. "I'm not used to riding so hard. I hurt in places I didn't know I could hurt."
"Then maybe you ought to ride more often, city girl," he drawled. "You're too soft." He knew that much for a fact.
His playful goad backfired on him. "Well, maybe I'll take you up on your offer, considering I'll be here for a while."
The group of men started toward them, headed by his cousin Randal, preventing J.T. from responding to her comment. By the looks of collective interest and speculation cast Caitlan's way, J.T. knew he'd have to set some ground rules for the men living in the bunk house-Caitlan was off limits and he wouldn't tolerate any advances made toward her during her stay at the ranch.
Ever the womanizer, Randal chased anything with breasts and long legs, and Caitlan definitely fit that bill. However, Randal looked more intent on throttling Caitlan than trying to flirt with her, which surprised J.T. Curiosity over the ominous looks Randal cast Caitlan mingled with a sense of relief J.T. didn't want to analyze too deeply. At least he wouldn't have to battle with Randal for making a move on Caitlan, and cause more discord between himself and his cousin.
"Who is this?" Randal demanded.
J.T. stared at Randal's matted blond hair and bloodshot brown eyes and guessed his cousin was suffering from one helluva hangover, which explained, not excused, his surly attitude. Glancing over Randal's shoulder to the other hands, he gave them a brisk nod of acknowledgment. "Would you mind excusing us for a few minutes?"
The men dispersed without question, one of them taking Quinn to cool the horse down for the boss. Beside him, Caitlan shifted on her feet, and when he looked at her he wondered at the intent way she studied Randal. Once the hands were out of earshot J.T. turned back to his cousin, whose face was now flushed.
"This is Caitlan Daniels," J.T. explained. "She's from Parson's Dude Ranch and happened to get lost on Rafferty property."
"All the way from the dude ranch?" Randal's scowl deepened. "Parson's is eight miles away. That's impossible!"
A wry smile tugged at J.T.'s mouth. "About as impossible as the bridge over the American River collapsing, but it happened."
"I was sightseeing on my own and lost my way," Caitlan interrupted, striving to substantiate her presence.
"Stupid female," Randal said, his gaze slurring over her as insolently as his words. "Didn't you see the private property signs posted on the main road and fence posts? Maybe charges of trespassing would make you think twice before you wandered off on your own again."
"Randal, cool it," J.T. said in a deceptively mild voice that warned most people they were treading on very thin ice. J.T. was used to Randal's explosive temper-worse since Randal's father had died two months ago-but J.T. saw no justification in Randal's hostility toward Caitlan for an incident that had resulted in more good than bad.
Randal's fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, as if battling to contain the fury brewing in him. "Don't you think it odd that she showed up out of nowhere-"
Lightning-fast, J.T. grabbed a fistful of Randal's shirt, jarring the other man into submission. He heard Caitlan's soft gasp at the aggressive move, but his only thought was to shut Randal up. "Good God, man! Who the hell cares where she came from?" He gave Randal a slight shake, then let go of the wad of material in his hand. Randal stumbled back, eyes wide. "Caitlan saved my life. Didn't Kirk and Frank tell you about my accident and how she found me?"
Caitlan watched Randal transform from raging madman to subdued composure in the blink of an eye. The abrupt change made her wary and cautious.
"Yeah. Sorry." Discreetly straightening his shirt, he shoved his fingers into his hair, which did nothing to tame the thick, unwashed strands. "I don't know what came over me. We've all been so worried about you. I'm glad to see you're okay." He glanced at Caitlan and smiled, but she saw the resentment and bitterness banked in the depths of his eyes. "I guess you're lucky this woman came along when she did. No telling what would have happened to you if she hadn't."
Caitlan didn't miss the flash of challenge in his eyes, and gave him a demure smile in return. A muscle in his cheek twitched, and she saw the beginnings of that madman surface again.
Unaware of the turmoil between his cousin and Caitlan, J.T. sighed tiredly. "I suggest you lay off the bottle, Randal. You know I'll do whatever I can to help you with your father's debts, but I won't put up with your mood swings."
The fire in Randal's gaze blazed an infuriated molten gold, but J.T. didn't see it. He'd glanced beyond Randal, a warm smile teasing his mouth. Caitlan followed his line of vision to a willowy young girl running down a path from the main house toward them, her long mahogany hair streaming down her back in wild abandon. In her wake, a woman with shoulder-length blond hair followed at a more leisurely pace, and tagging along were two tow-headed girls bundled in jeans and jackets.
"Dad, you're home!" the young girl squealed, launching herself into J.T.'s arms. The expression on her pretty face brimmed with unconditional love.
J.T. laughed, a deep, rumbling chuckle, and swung her around in a big bear hug. "Of course I am, Smidget." He set her down, grinning as he chucked her affectionately under the chin.
She looked up at him, green eyes crowded with concern. "I was so worried when Quinn came back last night without you. Uncle Kirk said you had an accident."
"I'm fine, Laura," he assured her gently. "Just a little bump on my head, but it'll take more than that to get rid of your old man."
Caitlan watched the reunion, a feeling of rightness ribboning through her. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a stiff movement from Randal, a slight bristling as he straightened his lanky frame. Randal watched J.T. with Laura, his eyes narrowing to menacing slits before he turned and stormed away. No one but Caitlan seemed to notice Randal's malevolence-or if they did, no one made mention of it.
A shiver of apprehension passed through Caitlan. J.T. seemed to treat Randal's animosity as a common occurrence, which made her wonder what kind of relationship the cousins shared. She knew without summoning her Superior that Randal was the man she had to protect J.T. from. The vibrations of evil and hatred emanating from Randal were so strong and gripping, Caitlan shuddered to think such a person was free to come and go at will. And why didn't J.T. see the threat Randal posed?
There was nothing she could do about Randal, except make sure he didn't harm her ward. One of the first lessons she'd learned as a guardian angel was that she was to interfere as little as possible with destiny-less for the Superiors to cover up or repair once the mission was complete. Her job was to protect and nothing more. J.T. had to learn for himself who stalked him.