Rebel Heart by Barbara McMahon Page A

seen one before? Just because he personified the perfect male physique was no reason to act like a star-struck teenager.
    “The lemonade is cold and the gingerbread is still fresh,” she said, darting another quick glance at Jase.
    “Your timing's perfect. We need a break,” Jase said easily. “Right, Dink?”
    “I don’t mind sitting a spell.” The older man took his cup and a piece of cake and went to sit in the scant shade of the pickup. Jase stood by Shannon, sipping from the tin cup, steadily watching her over the rim.
    “This is nice,” he said.
    She nodded, nervously looking around. “Should you be doing this? I mean, with your ribs and all.”
    Darn, she felt as nervous as a rabbit faced with a coyote. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly.
    “It needs doing.”
    “But with your injuries—”
    “I’m fine. Dink’s doing most of the work.”
    She glanced over and saw the older man had closed his eyes. Was he already taking a cat nap? She knew Jase gave more credit to the older man than warranted. He was nice that way.
    She brought herself up sharp. She was not looking for things to admire about Jase Hart. She was trying to talk herself out of her infatuation, not feed it.
    “Won’t you get sunburned?” she asked, unable to resist sliding her glance over his muscular chest again. Her fingers longed to trace his muscles, tangle gently with the faint dusting of golden curly hair. It took real effort to face forward and watch the sun glitter off the water as the river near the boundary rushed on its journey.
    “Too hot for a shirt. I’ve half a mind to just plunge into the river and cool off all over,” Jase said as they reached the bank.
    “Not here. This is where cattle drink. There’s a nice spot a mile or so upriver. Sometimes I go swimming there,” she said.
    She wished she had taken a cup of lemonade. It would give her something to do with her hands.
    “Want to go swimming now?” he asked whimsically.
    “I don’t have a suit,” she said without thinking.
    “So? I don’t, either.” From the amusement evident in his tone, she knew he was teasing her.
    “Not today, thanks,” she replied primly, closing her eyes against the images that danced before her.
    He laughed. “Yeah, I figured you’d say something like that, darlin’. All work, right?”
    Her eyes snapped open, the vision gone. Reality returned. “No, but not all play, either.”
    “You’ve got that right. You ever planning on getting married again?” he asked.
    Surprised at the question, she turned to face him. “Not necessarily. I don’t have much opportunity to meet too many men.”
    “You danced with a parcel of them last night.”
    “They were fine to dance with, but…I don’t know.”
    “Yeah, you need to be looking for a responsible man that works all the time.”
    “That’s not fair, Jase. I don’t want someone who works all the time. But I need someone who puts duty before feckless pleasure. I need to know he’d be someone I could count on to be home when needed and not out chasing after other women all in the name of a good time.”
    “Damn, he hurt you bad.” He looked away, pensive.
    Shannon held perfectly still. Bobby had hurt her.
    Rod had hurt her in a different way.
    Would Jase hurt her, as well?
    She had to guard her heart. Yet she was more attracted to him than she had been to her husband. How did she explain that? How long would Jase go on seeking fun and adventure to the exclusion of all else? Would the habit become so ingrained he'd never change?
    Would anyone give him the chance at a steady job when he was through with the rodeos? Or would he drift from one place to another, always looking for an easy way out, more concerned for idle pleasure than the satisfaction of a job well done?
    “Do you ever plan to marry?” she asked, curious about his future, a little sad she’d not figure in that future.
    He shrugged. “Maybe. But that would be a long time down the road. I have other