Chasing McCree Read online




  Chasing McCree

  © J.C. Isabella 2012

  This book is the personal property of J.C. Isabella. Its characters are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. This book is for your entertainment, not to be given freely or resold in any way.

  Thank you for respecting her work.

  Chapter 1

  Chase

  A siren blared. Someone cursed as they sat impatiently at a red light. Another man laid on his horn. The person in front of him wasn’t moving fast enough.

  I wish I was in Montana. Nothing but big skies and cool clean air filtering down from the white-capped mountains. But I was in Florida near a fancy hotel and golf club. I can’t imagine how anyone who lives here finds it enjoyable. Heat trapped between the buildings and radiated off the pavement. The green trees and grass were relegated to yards and medians. Everywhere I looked tourists crowded the beaches, the stores.

  I did have a little piece of Montana embodied in an old horse named Ash. Although I knew I could get into some serious shit, I decided to take him out for a nighttime ride through one of the parks in my neighborhood. The land behind my house wasn’t big enough for him to gallop without going in circles, and if it made me dizzy, then it had to be driving him nuts.

  “Hup,” I urged him to jump over a low shrub and headed for the soccer field, gathering speed. It was set far back from the road, not well lit. The chances of anyone seeing us were slim.

  Ash was in heaven. He pumped his legs, whinnying and shaking his head. It was invigorating and freeing. The best idea and the most fun either of us had had in a couple weeks.

  We reached the far side of the field near a swing set and I brought Ash down to a nice trot, making sure he didn’t wear himself out.

  “What do you say we take a break?” I pulled back on his reins next to a fountain wrapped in cement steps and slid out of the saddle. It was a nice night, hotter than I anticipated, but I couldn’t see the stars because of all the city lights. I patted Ash, leading him around the fountain, knowing we’d have to get back to the house before my mom. She was in Tampa with her husband Todd, seeing some show or other.

  I grasped the saddle to mount Ash thinking I’d take him for a final run before heading back. Movement out of the corner of my eye brought me to a halt.

  Now, I’m no idiot, and just because I wasn’t used to city living, didn’t mean I’d go out at night in a park without some protection. So I grabbed my grandfather’s whip off the saddle, uncoiling it straight out. If the person behind me was looking for an easy target, he was going to get a nasty surprise.

  Curling my fingers around the handle, I glanced over my shoulder.

  I was expecting to find a man looking to mug me, anything remotely threatening, not a little blonde cheerleader covered in glitter…and blood.

  I looped the whip back on the saddle not wanting to scare her, and turned to find her sitting carefully on the steps of the fountain.

  She hiccupped. “That’s a horse.”

  “Yep,” I said, glancing around, wondering why she was alone.

  “You can’t have a horse in a park.” Her voice went up an octave and back down on a slur.

  “Are you drunk?” I couldn’t hide my shock. It didn’t surprise me that someone could get wasted and wander around a park. But a girl, dressed in a skimpy cheerleading uniform, who looked like she’d be blown over by a good gust of wind? This was the last place she needed to be. What was wrong with these city people? Were they all insane? Or maybe it was me. The slow talking, country poke, as my classmates have so nicely called me. Being from two different worlds, the chances we’d see eye-to-eye right away were slim.

  “I am perferlectly…perfictfly…” her bottom lip pouted out and she gave up. “I’m fine,” she put her head between her knees. “Can you make those extra two feet go away?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “My head hurts.”

  “I’m sorry.” What else was I supposed to say? There was something familiar about her though. Her cheerleading uniform sported the colors of my new high school.

  I studied her a little more closely.

  Yep, she was definitely one of the popular crowd. I’d seen her around a few times, never talked to her. I was on the bottom of the totem pole, and she might as well be royalty.

  She started to giggle.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “I don’t know…” and then she started to cry.

  Shit. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

  “Make it stop,” she sobbed, sitting up and wiping the tears away with her hand. Her nails were hot pink.

  “Make what stop?”

  “I don’t feel good. I’m laughing, next I’m crying. My face feels like a balloon. My knees hurt and my hands hurt…and did I tell you my head hurts, too?”

  “Yeah, you did. Alcohol obviously doesn’t sit well with you.” She was a mess, and oddly cute. I crouched to get a closer look at the little train wreck. Her makeup smeared, tracks of black running down her cheeks, mixing with silver glitter. I looked lower. Her hands laid palm up in her lap. They were red and raw, with little pecks of gravel embedded. Both of her knees were bloody, lines of red dried to her shins with even more gravel and dirt. My chest felt tight. She might be one of those popular brats, but she didn’t deserve this. “How’d that happen?”

  “I fell.” She said, blubbering and sniffling. “A man chased me, and I ran. But I tripped because I…sometimes I have four feet! A person can’t just sprout two extra feet, right? It really hurts to walk. I don’t know what hurts the most. And I don’t know what I’m doing, because I’m drunk! I don’t want to be drunk… Did I tell you my head hurts?”

  “Yeah, for the third time. I’ve never heard of someone growing extra feet.” I stood up, decided she was going to be a pain until she sobered, but I wasn’t going to let anything else happen to her. “Did you hit your head?”

  It took her a minute. She stared hard at my boots before looking back up to answer. “No.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “About what?”

  “Did you hit your head?”

  “Once, last year at cheer practice.” She yawned. “I fell off the pyramid.”

  “But you didn’t hit it tonight.”

  She stared blankly, as if I was crazy. “Why would I do that? My head already hurts.”

  Great, now that was cleared up, I got back on track. “Let me take you home.”

  “No!” she leapt up and swayed forward. I steadied her. As soon as she had her footing she shoved me away. “Leave me alone. I’m not that kind of girl.”

  “Fine.” I said, watching her march toward the soccer field, heading in the general direction of nowhere. If she walked far enough she’d end up in the creek. Being wet was bound to upset her even more, until she drowned. Swimming…hell, wading, would be the final straw. She’d sink like a stone. And if I let that happen, I’d go down as the only bastard in history to let a drunken cheerleader drown in three feet of water at a family park. I felt bad for her. Really, I did. I also hoped that she’d learned her lesson.

  “Goodbye.” She shouted, walking the saddest excuse of a straight line I’d ever seen. Might as well have been walking backwards. That would have been faster.

  “Why me?” I couldn’t just let her wander off. No telling who was out in the park. One man had supposedly chased her, caused her to skin both knees and palms. So I mounted Ash and followed, keeping my distance.

  She whipped around and pointed her finger at me. “Are you following me?”

  “Nope.” I lied, trying not to laugh. She was an adorable mess. Chunks of her honey blonde hair were starting to fall out of the sparkly clips on her head, curling about her fa
ce.

  “Chasing me?”

  “Yup.”

  Her eyes widened. “Why?”

  “Because your hurt and drunk. Do I need a better reason than that?”

  “Yes, you do.” She stuck her nose in the air, haughtily, and I knew I’d met my match. She was stubborn as a mule, a pain in the ass, and drunker than my Uncle Jerry on New Years.

  I rubbed the back of my neck, “I only want to make sure you’ll be safe. I’m not chasing you around all night because I think it’s a nice way to pass time.”

  “Oh,” her bottom lip quivered and the tears came back in full force. Lucky for her I had enough patience to cope.

  “What now?” Did I say something upsetting?

  “I don’t feel good.” She doubled over and proceeded to empty the contents of her stomach on the soccer field.

  I rolled my eyes heavenward, dropped off Ash and left him to wander. When I was within an arm’s length she backed up, turned, and staggered away.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” I said in a soothing tone, one that I used to calm a frenzied horse. It was the same thing. She was skittish, her mind and body locked in flight mode.

  She was still crying too. It was an amazing sight to behold. “I’m embarrassed.”

  “Because you got sick?”

  “Duh!” she scampered away, legs wobbling. “I’ve never done that in front of a guy before.”

  “If you haven’t noticed, I don’t care. I’ve mucked horse stalls and branded cattle.”

  “Sure, cowboy.” She stumbled over her own feet.

  “Whoa,” I grabbed her around the waist before she went down on her knees and irritated the scrapes.

  “Let me go!” She struggled and I prayed a passerby didn’t see us and get the wrong idea.

  “Sorry, you’re stuck with me. Now calm down. Hey, don’t bite me! I’m not going to hurt you.” I pinned her arms, held her close until she slumped in defeat. Hell, at least she didn’t kick like a mule. She hiccupped, sighed, then pressed her face into my shoulder, soaking my shirt with tears, smearing me with silver glitter and lord knows what else.

  “Why wont you let me take you home?” I asked, keeping my voice low, rubbing her arms. Sooth the savage beast, as my grandfather used to say. Not that she was savage or beastly. “I won’t make you ride the horse, I’ll get my truck.”

  “It’s not the horse.” She went limp. “I don’t want my parents to see me like this. They’d be so disappointed.”

  “Okay, somewhere else then. Where can I take you?”

  “Nowhere.”

  That left me two choices, one of which I’d already decided against. I couldn’t leave her in the park…but I could take her home with me. I glanced at Ash waiting patiently and hoped he was up to having a second, somewhat hysterical, rider.

  I called him over and grabbed the reins, patted his side. With a little coaxing, because he hadn’t done tricks in a while, I got him to kneel. I threw my leg over and brought the girl down in front of me. She let out a squeal, started laughing as soon as Ash was standing. Then she cried. Changing emotions so quick I couldn’t keep up.

  “So what’s your name?” I asked, keeping one arm tight around her waist so she didn’t slide out of the saddle or try to jump down. Didn’t need to add any more injuries to her.

  “Briar Thompson.” She said, running her fingers through Ash’s mane. Calmer. She had a horse as a distraction. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Chase McCree.”

  “You’re a real cowboy?”

  “Last time I checked.” That got a chuckle out of me, and she laughed too. I couldn’t help but think she looked like a princess, despite her messy appearance.

  “My head hurts.” She gasped, her giggles coming to a halt.

  “You told me.” I smiled, urging Ash into the shadows when a car passed on the street nearby.

  “I did?” she sounded confused, like she didn’t remember.

  “Yup.” And she’d probably tell me again.

  “How many feet do you have, Chase?”

  “Two.”

  “I have four.” She was upset again, bottom lip trembling.

  “No, Briar, you have two.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I counted.” I touched her right leg, “one,” I touched her left, “two.”

  “I hate pickles.” And then she passed out.

  “Me too.” I let out a breath, one I hadn’t realized I was holding. Earlier today I’d been thinking about how incredibly boring it was here. Nothing like a drunken a cheerleader to spice up the night. “Let’s go home.” I said to Ash, keeping Briar tucked close, and heading for my mother’s house.

  Chapter 2

  Briar

  I passed out.

  I couldn’t help myself. One minute I’m slurring and puking, then the next I’m zonked. And when I woke up I wasn’t on the back of the massive gray horse.

  I was in a bed.

  I stared up at a brown ceiling fan, realizing it wasn’t my bed, and scanned the rest of the room. It was sparse. Bare beige walls, a big oak dresser, and a clothes hamper lined the wall on my right. There was a closet on the other side. The doors were open wide, and it’s contents weren’t what I expected. There were boots, cowboy style, on the floor, and a whip.

  Yeah, this wasn’t my room. It had to be the room of the boy named Chase, who’d been riding his horse in the park by my house.

  My eyes landed on a saddle. It was set on some sort of wooden contraption by the bedroom door. What ever it was, it looked like it was made for keeping the saddle on.

  I sat up slowly. My head throbbed and my stomach hurt like hell. “I hate you Alex.”

  “Who’s Alex?” the familiar voice was low, closer than I expected.

  “Alex Franklin Walker the third, my boyfriend.” I groaned, sliding back to lean against the pillows behind me. Chase was sitting at the foot of the bed. “Make that ex-boyfriend. The reason why I was drunk and stumbling through a park.”

  “How is he the reason?” he sounded amused. I blinked hard, focusing on a pair of chocolate brown eyes. They were his of course, and very intelligent.

  “I…” Crap. I wasn’t actually going to tell this guy how I ended up in a park drunk and disoriented, was I? Hell no. I glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It was way after midnight. “Oh, god. I have to get home.”

  “Did he do that to you?” The anger that flashed in his eyes startled me. I had to force myself to stay put.

  I glanced at my knees. They were crusted with blood and dirt. “No, that happened after I left his house. I walked past a bar and a man chased me…I think I told you the rest.”

  “Yeah, you did.” He frowned. “Anything else happen?”

  “Like?”

  “Like, why would someone get you drunk?”

  “Oh,” My cheeks heated with embarrassment. I hoped he couldn’t see me blushing. “You think he did it to have sex with me.”

  “Well, I don’t think he did it for a laugh, Briar.”

  “No, that wasn’t the reason…at least not the initial one. I have to go.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood. Immediately I realized I wasn’t over being drunk. The room spun. I dropped back onto the mattress with a groan. “I feel like hell.”

  He laughed. “No offense, you look it.”

  I shook my head and tried to stand again. It didn’t work. On my third try Chase took me by the elbow. But instead of helping me to the door, he steered me toward a bathroom.

  “When I said I needed to go, I meant home.”

  “I know.” He was very patient, making sure I didn’t smack into anything or hit the floor. “But I don’t think you want to walk into your house looking like this.”

  I stared down at myself. “Yeah, good point. Clean up, then leave.”

  He retrieved washcloths and soap out of a cabinet and set the water to warm in the sink. I reached for the soap. He shook his head and turned me so my back was to the
counter. I stared up into his darkly lashed eyes, breathless. His mouth kicked up in a grin, and without a word his hands went to my waist. He lifted me up and set me on the counter next to the sink. Not even Alex could pick me up like that. I was five foot three. All the blustering and posturing Alex did compensated for his height of five foot six. But Chase was bigger than Alex. I’m guessing six feet, maybe taller. He had hard muscles, very well defined, and broad, strong looking shoulders. I didn’t usually feel petite around Alex, but being around Chase, I felt almost tiny.

  “Don’t pass out on me.” He said, tapping his finger to the tip of my nose.

  “I won’t. I-I can do this.” I insisted, blushing again. Chase was unlike any person I’d ever met. He was being so gentle, actually taking care of me. His behavior was completely foreign. I didn’t come from a warm fuzzy family. The only person who bothered to take care of me was Grandma.

  “Uh-huh, sure. You can barley walk. And if you fall on the tile, it’s going to hurt a lot worse than carpet.”

  “Fine.” I looked over my shoulder in the mirror as he began to soap up a washcloth, and let out a squeal. “Oh my god! I look awful.”

  “So fix it.” He handed me the soap.

  I scrubbed the makeup off my face, and removed the dirt from the palms of my hands. It burned. Chase carefully wiped the blood from my legs, blotting and removing little flecks of gravel. I had to grit my teeth and close my eyes, despite his light touches. I really did a number on my knees.

  He went to a medicine cabinet and pulled out Band-Aids and antiseptic. I held my breath, wincing as his fingers pressed the sticky part of the Band-Aids in place. Finally he was done.

  I looked and felt better again. Although, I’d stripped off every ounce of makeup layered on my face. The freckles that smattered my nose were visible, and my fair eyelashes were unnoticeable. Thick black mascara usually coated them.

  I spent an hour this morning trying to make my hair perfectly straight. The strands were curling into the tight corkscrews that I worked so hard to hide.