ShotgunRelations by Ann Jacobs Page A

cowboy boots barely touched the ground. “Keep in mind that you
don’t own it either, and that you won’t be sticking around for long if you keep
talking about your boss like that.”
    “She’s not my boss, her mama is. Take your
hands off me.”
    Jack shoved him backward into a bale of
hay. “Gladly.”
    Then he turned to Liz and took her in his
arms. “Did the son-of-a-bitch hurt you? If he did…”
    “Jack, it’s okay. He didn’t lay a hand on
me.” She took a step toward the hay bale. “Frank, I’ve put up with you running
this place for a long time. At first Mom let you because she didn’t know enough
about ranching to step in after Daddy died and I was just a kid. I’m grown now.
I know all I need to know about running this place and it’s high time for you
to follow my orders for a change. If you don’t like it, you’re free to leave.”
    “Big talk, Miss Liz. Let’s go up to the
house and see what Ms. Mavis has to say about that.” Frank spat out a wad of
tobacco, the look on his face one of pure hatred as he stomped out of the barn
and headed for the house.
    When she started to follow him, Jack held
her back. “Let him go, honey. Give the man some rope and let him hang himself.”
    “What do you mean?” Frank would fill her
mother with lies, make her hysterical again the way he’d done several times
before when she’d tried to assert control over him. “I need to stop him before
he upsets Mom.”
    Jack shook his head. “Not now. Let him
upset Mavis. I’ve got a feeling the task force will be investigating old Frank.
You don’t want to force his hand right now.”
    Had Jack heard something? “You don’t think
he had anything to do with the rustling, do you?”
    “I don’t know. But it seems awfully
suspicious to me that he lied about cowhands leaving and starting around the
time you lost those cows that apparently disappeared through a locked gate.
Maybe I’m wrong, but there’s something about the man that I can’t stand. I’m
not the only one who feels that way.”
    “Who else?”
    “Four. I ran into him in town this morning.
From the way he talked, he’s had suspicions that Frank has been up to something
fishy for a long time. He said he shared his feelings about Frank with your
mother last night, so maybe she’ll back you up. I won’t have you groveling to
the man.” Jack reached up and stroked her cheek, a gesture more soothing than
sensual.
    “What if he quits?”
    “All the better. You can hire a foreman
who’ll do as you say. One who doesn’t lie to law enforcement and hopefully one
who nobody will suspect of being into rustling cattle.”
    Liz saw the logic in what Jack said, but
she was still afraid to cross the man who had been foreman at the Laughing Wolf
for practically as long as she could remember. “I don’t know, Jack.”
    “I do. I want you to go inside now, pack an
overnight bag and put on that black embroidered skirt and the low-cut blouse
you wore for our date the day before Bye’s wedding. No underwear. I want to be
able to play with your cunt all the way to Lubbock. I’m introducing you to my
mother since I have to go there and decipher some papers for her. If you still
want to be my 24/7 slave after you meet her, we’ll stop by the tattoo and
piercing shop and get you a little dagger like mine.” His sexy whisper near her
ear made her fantasize about his mastery, her absolute submission to his hot
desire. “We may even make a detour by the Neon Lasso on the way back to my
place.”
    “Yes, Master.” When he put it that way she
had no choice but to do as he said. She wanted to squelch her worries about the
ranch in a haze of white-hot lust made hotter by her total devotion to the man
she’d accepted as her master.
    * * * * *
    “Why are we stopping?” Liz asked when Jack
pulled in at a deserted rest stop hardly more than halfway to Lubbock.
    When he stopped the car and turned off the
engine, he got out and practically ran around to drag