Lone Star Lover Read Free

the truck swung into the other lane and passed him.
    Jake swore loudly, and then watched in amazement as the other truck slowed down, made a U-turn, and headed straight toward him. He applied the brakes and cut to his right. The other driver did the same, but instead of pulling off the road or around Jake, he stopped his truck so that it effectively blocked traffic either way.
    Was the guy drunk? Or just plain nuts? Jake saw the driver’s door open, and he hesitated before opening his own door, wondering if taking his gun out of the glove box would only make the situation worse. In the next second, he saw the sun glint off a 9mm in the man’s hand. He raised the barrel and aimed it at Jake through the windshield.
    “No sudden moves, boy. Just get out of your truck nice and slow.” Short, heavyset and balding, the man looked familiar.
    Jake didn’t budge. “You want money, my truck? What?”
    “What I want is for you to get out of that damn truck and into mine. Now , Malone. I ain’t gonna tell you again.”
    It suddenly registered where he’d seen the man. In court, during Levi Dodd’s trial. That meant he either worked for Dodd or Wellsley. Shit. No way in hell was Jake getting into that truck. If he did, he was as good as dead.
    “I know you,” he said, stalling, while he slowly moved his booted foot off the brake and toward the accelerator.
    The man walked closer, leveling the gun, his face flushed. “Put your hands where I can see them and get out of that damn truck.”
    Jake made his move. He grabbed the steering wheel at the same time he pressed his foot onto the accelerator. The truck shot off the pavement into the brush. The man fired, and the bullet shattered the door window, missing Jake by inches. He ducked from the flying glass, trying to maintain control of the wheel. The truck bucked and dipped over the uneven ground. Two more bullets whizzed past the side of Jake’s head.
    He couldn’t see a damn thing in front of him. What the hell was going on? He blinked, felt something wet on his face. Blood. Shit. He blinked again, saw the big mesquite tree at the last moment and jerked the wheel. The truck rolled once, and then again.
    Jake’s head hit the top of the cab. He thought he’d rolled again, maybe five times, he wasn’t sure. It felt as if he was spinning, being pulled down. Drowning in a sea of dust and wind. His vision blurred and his lids drooped even as he fought to keep his eyes open. He had to get out. Away from the shooter. His gun. He needed to get to his gun. But he couldn’t move. Couldn’t keep his eyes open. The darkness took over.

    T HE SUN WAS HOT . Too hot. Yet he was shivering. Jake struggled to turn his face away from the sky. His head throbbed. His lips and throat were so dry they felt blistered. God, he needed water. He tried to get up on his elbows but the pain forced him back down.
    Where was he? Why couldn’t he…
    A flash of memory jolted him. He forced his eyes open. Managing to peer through slits, he stared at the sharp-needled yucca not five feet away. He was in the desert. But where? How had—? He’d been driving from Appleton. That’s right.
    His truck. Where was it?
    His head and back hurt like a son of a bitch but he forced himself to roll onto his side. He squinted to cut the sun’s glare but all he could see was open country. No truck. No highway. Nothing but miles of blue sky, endless stalks of yucca, clumps of cactus and an army of scraggly mesquite.
    He tried in vain to moisten his lips. He needed to get out of the sun. Using all his might, he pushed himself up on one elbow. But the pain was too much. He fell back onto the hard ground and surrendered once again to unconsciousness.

2
    “R EBECCA , stop your woolgathering, girl, and fetch me some more warm water.”
    Rebecca Swanson blinked, and took a step back from the dark-haired man she’d been so rudely gazing upon. “Yes, Miss Kitty. Right away.”
    “If I have to tell you one more time to