Книга - A Cowboy To Keep

A Cowboy To Keep
Karen Rock


Can't stop running from the pastDani Crawford has a secret…and if bounty hunter Jackson Cade finds out, he could ruin everything. The scarred yet handsome cowboy has tracked a dangerous criminal to the dude ranch Dani manages, and to get rid of Jack she’ll have to help him catch his man. But the closer they get to cornering their quarry the more Dani wants Jack to stay. Spending time with him is making her long for things she can never have thanks to her past mistake. And if the truth comes out she may be spending her future behind bars rather than safe in her cowboy's arms…







Can’t stop running from the past

Dani Crawford has a secret...and if bounty hunter Jackson Cade finds out, he could ruin everything. The scarred yet handsome cowboy has tracked a dangerous criminal to the dude ranch Dani manages, and to get rid of Jack she’ll have to help him catch his man. But the closer they get to cornering their quarry the more Dani wants Jack to stay. Spending time with him is making her long for things she can never have thanks to a past mistake. And if the truth comes out she may be spending her future behind bars rather than safe in her cowboy’s arms...


“Thought you were waiting for my signal.”

Dani’s voice was breathy.

“If I waited any longer, I’d be drawing social security.”

“Ha-ha,” she said slowly, so Jack understood exactly how funny she thought him, and, contrarily, wouldn’t suspect that she really did find him amusing.

No more flirting.

He tipped his hat. “Never thought I’d hear you laugh.”

“You didn’t. Tanya!” she called again, turning away from the man who kept snagging too much of her attention. “Stopped by for that visit!” She waved Jack back, hoping he’d return to the porch, but he waltzed right by...technically trespassing.

Then again, bad boys didn’t ask for permission. Follow rules. Both of which should be huge caution signs...


Dear Reader (#u48e3b601-4dcf-5d6b-adba-429c9629c524),

Remember when Mary Poppins stepped into a sidewalk drawing and vanished into another world? Opening a new book has always had the same effect on me. In a flash, I’m transported to different times and places, each stop another stamp on my virtual passport.

In this novel, you’ll travel with me to the fictitious Mountain Sky Ranch, a dude ranch in Denver’s Front Range in the southern Rocky Mountains. Back in the late 1800s, this area teemed with copper-mining companies supplied by the Central, the first railroad corporation in Colorado. Cowboys, speculators, lawmen and outlaws flocked to this rugged outpost to roll the dice and make their fortunes. Likewise, wranglers, bounty hunters and bandits inhabit the pages of my novel, standing for those timeless principles that define the West to this day: justice and order...courage and conviction.

If you like A Cowboy to Keep, keep an eye out for my next book, where we meet the rest of Jackson’s family at Cade Ranch. These Rocky Mountain cowboys are proud, loyal and independent men who work hard, play harder and love forever. Visit me at karenrock.com to learn more about my releases or to let me know what you think of my books. I’d love to hear from you!

Happy reading!

Karen Rock

PS: Don’t forget to check out Heartwarming’s author blog at heartwarmingauthors.blogspot.com (http://www.heartwarmingauthors.blogspot.com).


A Cowboy to Keep

Karen Rock






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


KAREN ROCK is an award-winning young adult and adult contemporary author. She holds a master’s degree in English and worked as an ELA instructor before becoming a full-time author. Most recently, her Harlequin Heartwarming novels have won the 2015 National Excellence in Romance Fiction Award and the 2015 Booksellers’ Best Award. When she’s not writing, Karen loves scouring estate sales, cooking and hiking. She lives in the Adirondack Mountain region with her husband, daughter and Cavalier King Charles spaniels. Visit her at karenrock.com (http://www.karenrock.com).


To wise and wonderful Tara Randel for reading this book while she managed her family’s business and penned her own mysteries and Heartwarming romances. You don’t have to say “I’m here for you” because you prove it every day. Thank you, my friend!


Contents

Cover (#u32d1480c-7b82-5418-904f-57803c48890d)

Back Cover Text (#ubd62e728-2704-5e16-a418-3f0f90a17658)

Introduction (#u888f35d7-de0f-5d27-97ae-91ffc2fcf715)

Dear Reader (#u7bd16d7d-1a5a-51ed-81a8-650bb8b9b830)

Title Page (#u6d78c6e3-556f-5b6f-90ad-0ece5a750505)

About the Author (#u260bf310-8d48-52a0-a452-5b6a7e95473b)

Dedication (#u1074bd4d-de23-56a0-8843-5070f8be60f9)

CHAPTER ONE (#u7d202382-e4b8-5dfd-a909-08447642b8fe)

CHAPTER TWO (#ud505b7fb-d8b4-5da1-a896-c6b3bdcef006)

CHAPTER THREE (#ufd18d178-a543-5d2c-9dce-938bb16bbcec)

CHAPTER FOUR (#ub0a78b19-d745-5096-bb92-6eb5758f45e2)

CHAPTER FIVE (#ud7beb0a5-776d-53e5-b6ae-82f26a1b7219)

CHAPTER SIX (#u2053a811-cb98-50e2-9cd5-8491063a9a2c)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#u15f084d5-6297-55f6-a0f7-464368aa127a)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#u48e3b601-4dcf-5d6b-adba-429c9629c524)

“LET GO OF ME, FREAK.”

Jackson Cade’s answer was to shove his knee harder into the wanted man’s back, clap on handcuffs, then stand. “On your feet, Butch.” The ponderosa pines surrounding the small white trailer at the foot of Denver’s Front Range rustled overhead.

“Go to hell.”

“Someday,” he responded drily, prodding a shackled Butch toward his truck, his three-week chase over. He squinted when the midafternoon sun reflected off his side mirror and shot him straight in his good eye.

“Don’t you have to read me my rights?” jeered the fugitive as he struggled and yanked against Jack’s grip.

“Bounty hunters don’t have to do anything they don’t want to.”

Jack opened the rear cab door. His scar tightened at his grim smile. Some people belonged in cages; he’d learned that firsthand. He made sure they got there. “And right now, the only thing I’m wanting to do is bring you in.”

The door closed on his slumped captive and Jack ambled to the driver’s side. A pulse of satisfaction beat through him, chasing the shadows that’d consumed him these last two years, though the respite wouldn’t last long. No matter how many criminals he caught, it’d never make up for what he’d done, or failed to do.

You promised, he heard his mother’s cry again as he slid behind the wheel. You promised to keep your brother safe.

His fingers tightened on the gearshift and he revved the engine, as though he could outrun his past, as if his slashed left cheek wasn’t a constant reminder of his crime, as though bringing in another lowlife somehow settled his unpayable debt.

He peered in his rearview mirror, studied the scowling crook behind him and nodded. It helped some. He couldn’t bring back his brother, and hadn’t crossed paths with Jesse’s killer yet, but he’d never stop looking.

He cranked up a Waylon Jennings song and tuned out his cussing passenger as his pickup ate up the miles back to fugitive recovery in Denver. He pulled his hat brim low against the late-May sun, dropping in the west over the range.

Purple haze thickened in the timbered notches he passed. Gray foothills, round and billowy, rolled down from the higher country. They were smooth, sweeping, with long velvety slopes and isolated patches of aspens that glowed with newly minted leaves. Mount Evans, scarred by avalanche, towered above the valley, sheltering it from the north.

Nice looking country, he mused as he turned onto Interstate 25, though it wasn’t home. He stomped down the marrow-deep ache that sprang up when he pictured Carbondale. His family’s cattle ranch in western Colorado, in the center of the Rockies. No sense wishing for something he’d never get back. Or wouldn’t go back to. Not when he was reminded of his younger brother everywhere he looked and his guilt hung from his neck, a heavy yoke that made it hard to hold his head up. To stand tall.

Thirty minutes later, he pulled up in front of the one-story bond office and cut the engine beside a black Denver Sheriff Department SUV—Lance’s. He’d called ahead, since Butch’s warrant stipulated that he’d enter into custody. A department member had told him an officer would meet him. Could be his cousin had come to do the honors.

Butch spewed another stream of expletives when Jack jerked open the door and hauled him out. When he pressed the door buzzer, Lance opened it with a relaxed air that belied his serious intent, his badge glinting. The creases in his blue uniform were as sharp as knives. He wore that smug, got-you look Jack recognized from their boyhood days. He still had the same freckles and left-sided cowlick.

“Sheriff Covington.”

“Nice work,” drawled Lance, cocking a dark eyebrow at Jack before stepping close to the criminal. “I’ll take it from here. Butch, let’s walk.”

Jack hooked his thumbs in his belt buckle and watched them march to the SUV, satisfied. Justice served. The repeat offender wouldn’t be burglarizing homes in the area for a long while.

He took off his sunglasses and headed inside for his bounty. Considering money from his share of the family ranch revenues was dumped into his account every quarter, he wasn’t in a hurry for a payout. He did look forward to getting his next assignment, though...and returning to his trailer for the baseball game and TV dinner that waited on him.

“Jackson Cade for...”

“I know who you are,” interrupted the secretary. He’d clearly made quite the impression, since he’d only been to this bond office once before, when he’d taken this case. She averted her eyes behind large-framed glasses that covered most of her pinched features. Short little thing, scrawny, shoulders curled in. Fidgety fingers, twisting at her skirt. She snatched up her phone, spoke into it, then pointed down the hall without looking back up at him.

“Kind of you, ma’am,” he muttered, conscious of the office staff’s gazes fluttering his way. The paused conversations. The whispered comments that rose like a chorus when he passed. His jaw clenched. He should be used to this, yet somehow he wasn’t. He seldom ventured out in public anymore, and much preferred being on his own or hunting runaways—the one job where looking this scary worked to his advantage.

“Hey, Jack,” boomed the bond agent, Randall Cook. The gray-haired man smiled and stood, revealing a row of crooked teeth. His line-free face told of years spent indoors crunching numbers, and a touch of pink around his nose hinted at evenings afterward. “Can I get you a drink?”

When Jack shook his head, the talkative man continued, “Was almost ready to call it with Butch. Three other bounty hunters couldn’t nab him. Glad the sheriff recommended you.”

He shifted in his boots, uncomfortable with praise or anything else that called attention to him. “Glad to help.”

“I’ve got another one for you.” Randall shoved a folder across the cluttered table in front of Jack as Jack grabbed a seat. “Bill ‘Smiley’ Reno. Alias Ned Terrill.”

Words jumped out at Jack as he scanned the warrant.

Wanted for drug possession and dealing.

Fifty-thousand-dollar bond.

Known to carry a .45.

Considered armed and extremely dangerous.

A rap sheet that included assault with a deadly weapon, gun possession and armed robbery. Just as bad as he liked them. And he’d been caught with heroin—the same drug that’d ensnared Jack’s younger brother after he’d gotten hooked on oxycodone following surgery.

He shoved the folder under his arm and stood, determination firing through him. “A real sweetheart. I’ll get him.”

Randall pushed to his feet and extended a hand. “I believe you will. There’s more to his story, but I’ll let Sheriff Covington fill you in.”

Curious, he pumped Randall’s hand and strode outside where Lance leaned against his SUV, Butch slumped in the backseat.

“So. Smiley.” Lance nodded at the folder. His mouth flattened at Jack’s nod and he stepped closer. Dropped his voice. “An informant fingered him in the Remy Phillips case.”

The name sounded familiar. It rolled in his mind, then fell into place. He whistled. “The double homicide last month. A home invasion, right? Big society couple.”

Lance’s brow lowered. “Remy Phillips owns the largest investment firm in Denver and it looks like a professional hit. Since our snitch is unreliable and motivated to exchange information for a reduced sentence, I didn’t give it too much credit, especially when Smiley agreed right off to come down to the office to answer questions. Problem is, he never showed. I’d planned on chatting with him the following day at his court date.”

Understanding dawned and Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Then he jumped his bond.”

A frustrated breath escaped Lance’s clenched teeth. “Looks suspicious. He’s still just a person of interest, but let’s just say, I’m real interested. Bring him in, Jack.”

“I will.” And he would. Forget the ball game. He had much better plans with Smiley’s family, the last known address for the runaway and alleged killer. It’d been his mission, since Jesse’s murder, to get opiate dealers like this off the streets and make sure no one else died like his brother had.

“Got something else to tell you.”

He turned back to his cousin.

“This is between us. Ballistics and crime scene evidence suggest we’re after two men. A .45 and a 9mm were used at the scene. Plus, the Phillips’ safe was broken into, but the family can’t identify what’s missing. Whoever wanted it hired two pros for the job, so it must be important. I’m hoping that where there’s one...”

“Got it.” Jack nodded. Grim. This case looked better by the minute. He’d always liked two-for-one deals. Technically, he couldn’t bring in the other wanted man, but he’d hold him. “I’ll be on the lookout.”

Lance squinted at the sky. Spoke to the sun. “Keep me in the loop, okay? And, uh, heard the family reunion is at your ranch this year. Want to be my plus one?”

Jack’s gut clenched and he was glad his sunglasses hid his expression. “You’re not my type.”

Lance clocked him on the shoulder. “Come on, Jack. How long before you go home? You know they miss you. Especially your mama. And no one blames you for...for...”

“I blame myself.” Jack swung into his truck and slammed the door. Engine revved, he peeled out of the parking lot and headed toward Smiley’s address. No sense dwelling on family and loss. Action was what he needed.

And retribution.

He glanced down at his forearm. Black ink sketched out a belt buckle with an intricate pattern, the scripted letters aJc in the center. It was an image of the buckle Jesse had won in a junior bull-riding championship the year before he got hooked on painkillers and then heroin. Every time Jack looked at it, he was reminded of happier times...of what his brother could have been...how Jack wanted to remember him.

When Jack left the ranch to become a bounty hunter, he’d vowed that with enough persistence, he’d someday catch the two lowlifes who’d ambushed him and later killed his brother on a back road. Sooner or later their paths would cross and he’d make them pay.

His pickup bounced up a rutted, dirt drive that ended at a listing two-story farmhouse. A tan-and-white pit bull lunged on its chain, snapping and growling, as he strode past and clomped up the steps. With the sun gone now, he needed to secure this house before Smiley slipped away into the night.

The door swung open before he raised his hand to knock. A sour-faced woman peered at him through the ripped screen door. Her worn-out appearance matched her sagging porch. The color leached out of her face when her flat pale blue eyes rose to meet his. They were a little too wide, not enough blinks. She backed up a step and looked down at the Glock holstered on his hip. Something unpleasant worked on her top lip.

“Wha-what do you want? We don’t want no trouble.”

“I’m looking for Smiley. He here?” The smell of old grease and mold streamed from inside. The pit bull continued barking madly.

She licked her lips. Rubbed her palms together. “Haven’t seen him.” She raised her voice. “Shut it, Tank.” The dog whined and quieted.

He leaned an arm on the soft wood doorjamb. Casual. Just a hint of menace. “Since when? Yesterday?”

Her glance flew to his then dropped. “Can’t remember.”

“Let’s see if I can jog your memory. Mind if I look around?”

“You got a warrant?”

He held it up. “Come in,” she said wearily, and lumbered inside, her large ankles ballooning over her slippers, the hem of her housecoat swinging around her calves.

She let him in right quick, Jack mused. Seemed unlikely his quarry lurked here, then. Still, he checked the place top to bottom before he returned to her kitchen, where she stirred something brown and lumpy in a kettle. Goulash by the smell of it.

“So, where’s Smiley headed?”

Her wooden spoon stopped and she spoke without looking up. “I told you. I haven’t seen him.”

He held his impatience in check. Play this game long enough, you learned the rules. Crossing his arms over his chest, he settled his hip against the crowded counter. “You ready to stake fifty thousand on that? What’s this house worth? Maybe they’ll take that, instead, since you cosigned his bond.”

Her mouth dropped open. Worked. She shoved her lank, gray locks off her fleshy face and sighed. “Maybe I did hear something.”

“Tell me.”

“He and some fella stopped by the other night wanting money. Asked for a ride.”

He pressed his lips together and strove to hear his own thoughts over the sudden drumming of his heart. “Who was Smiley with?”

Her brow furrowed. “Ain’t seen him before. Evan somethin’ or another.”

“Evan, or Everett?”

She shrugged. “Could be either, though now that you say it, I think Everett sounds right. Tried not to pay him no mind. A dangerous-looking man. Cold. Real cold.”

In a flash, the room receded, the walls, the floors, the roof, as he peered backward to the night his brother lost his life. He saw the two men who’d concealed their appearance with hoodies and scarves on that cold winter night. Pictured the names of the strangers listed on a local hotel registry that night. One in particular, Everett Ridland, had been a suspect in connection with another murder. The name, an alias, turned out to be another dead end.

“Where’d you bring them?”

“Shawnee.”

“What’s there?”

“Smiley works at Mountain Sky Dude Ranch sometimes. Could be he intended on asking them for money...” Her voice trailed off like the last air from a deflated balloon.

Jack straightened. He’d gotten everything out of her he needed...and more. The chances he’d finally locked onto his brother’s killers rose. “Thank you kindly, ma’am.” He handed her his card. “You call me if he turns up, now.”

Her hands shook as she snatched the card from him and backed away. “I told him. I said, ‘Smiley, I don’t want no part of any of your shenanigans. Leave me out of it.’ So you’re saying I’m going to lose my house?”

Jack shook his head. “Not if I get him first.”

“Good luck,” she called after him, then she shut the door fast, before he’d even stepped off the porch.

A couple of hours later, he drove through a darkened Shawnee and kept on going until his headlights illuminated the stone pillars holding up an arch that read Mountain Sky Dude Ranch. He glanced at his dash. Midnight. A good time to scout the property. The season wouldn’t have started yet, so no one should be up and about. He didn’t want to explain his presence to anyone in case Smiley or Everett—if it was Everett—got tipped off. His phone call to the owners had gone straight to voice mail.

Leaving his truck, he vaulted over the gate and slipped through the trees. A crescent moon hung low in the star-studded sky. Moving quickly but stealthily, he skirted a pasture of horses, careful not to get too close and spook any. When a number of them lifted their heads and neighed, he froze. Could Smiley and his partner hear that?

After a moment, he glided through shadows and headed for a hay barn. When he grabbed the latch, the unmistakable metallic slide and click of a bullet being chambered behind him sounded.

Reacting on instinct, he ducked, whirled and pointed his gun directly between the prettiest hazel eyes he’d ever seen.


CHAPTER TWO (#u48e3b601-4dcf-5d6b-adba-429c9629c524)

DANI CRAWFORD NEARLY dropped her rifle when the lethal-looking prowler turned. Their eyes met, a dark promise in the depths of his, and her heartbeat thudded in her ears at his intent, hard-bitten expression. A scar snaked from the top of his left eyebrow, reappeared below his lower lid, slashed his high cheekbone and dipped to his full mouth.

A deadly badge of dishonor, by the look of it.

Some vicious fight he’d survived.

What’d the other guy look like?

Probably rotting in a grave.

A shiver slithered down her back at her fanciful imagination. Strands of hair blew in her face as the wind whistled across the hilly land and coyotes yipped in the distance.

“Hands up!” she ordered, sounding as tough as a gal could while standing barefoot in a tank and sleep shorts. Hopefully her rifle was doing the intimidating.

To her relief, her intruder placed his pistol in the grass and slowly straightened to a goliath height. His muscular, tattooed arms, revealed by a fitted black T-shirt, pointed at the new moon. His predator eyes never left hers and bumps rose on her exposed skin.

She should have grabbed a robe and sneakers. Searched out one of the ranch’s rare cell phone signals since she didn’t have a landline.

The moment she’d heard the horses and spotted someone moving on her employer’s property, she’d grabbed her gun and pursued, her cell phone shoved in her pocket. She would not—could not—let anything jeopardize the ranch that’d become a second home to her, a haven from her troubled past.

And now she stood alone with the most dangerous-looking man she’d ever seen. Her employers were hundreds of miles away, buying a new horse for the stable she managed. Her staff didn’t arrive for the new season until tomorrow. Would he know that? Was that why he’d come? She should have listened to her friend Ray’s admonishments to stay in town when she’d stopped at his bar earlier. Her tongue darted out and licked her dry lips. His gaze dropped to her mouth, lingered, then rose again.

“Didn’t mean to disturb you, ma’am.” His husky baritone seemed to move right through her skin, wrap around her chest and squeeze the air out of her like a python’s embrace.

“What’s your business here?” she asked, her heartbeat and her breath running wild.

He shrugged broad shoulders, something in the deceptively casual move making her even more fearful. His long, denim-clad legs suggested speed and agility; his flat abdomen, wide chest and lean waist screamed strength. Still. She had the gun. Was in charge of the situation. Yet his calm, relaxed demeanor raised doubts about who was really in control.

He acted like having a gun pulled on him happened every day.

Maybe it did. She studied the hard planes of his face.

“Just passing through.”

“You should have called if you wanted a tour,” she said evenly. Her pulse throbbed at the base of her throat.

The right side of his mouth curled, the easy expression putting her on the defensive just as much as his gun had. Maybe even more. “Prefer doing things on my own.”

“That right,” she drawled, weighing her options, fear making her bones shake.

Calling 911 wasn’t an option, even if she could get a signal. She’d avoided law enforcement since running from her Oklahoma-issued arrest warrant six years ago. Officers asked too many questions. Might connect her to the worst mistake of her past. Were within their rights to extradite her... She tamped down the horrible, nightmare thought.

He gazed at her steadily. “So. Are you shooting me? My arms are getting tired.” He rolled first one, then the other shoulder. Didn’t look bothered a bit.

And that bothered her a lot. Time to throw this fish back in the stream, much as she’d like to get to the bottom of his visit. Since an access road to the Pike National Forest crossed the property, sometimes disoriented stragglers turned up. It’d be naive of her to think a man like him would get lost, though. An armed man...

Keep him talking or get rid of him? Seeing as she was alone, she’d go with the latter.

“Where’s your vehicle?”

“Outside the gate.”

“Let’s go.” She nodded toward the entrance, down one of the dirt paths crisscrossing the property. It passed the two-story main lodge and the corral where they brought saddled horses for daily expeditions.

“I need my gun.”

Her eyes widened. “Not on my property.”

“I need my gun.” His tone sounded easy as ever, yet steel had entered it. An implacable quality that suggested a man used to getting what he wanted.

“Then you shouldn’t have dropped it.”

He lowered his head and peered at her from beneath his brows. “I’m not leaving without it.”

“If we agree that leaving on a stretcher is an option, then go for it.” She didn’t even try keeping the sass out of that one. In the oddest way, she enjoyed the tightrope feel of this conversation. Recognized it from the days she’d run with the wrong crowd until that fascination had come back to bite her. Hard.

But she wasn’t the kind of woman who enjoyed that sort of thrill anymore... Resentment rose at the glimpse of her old self. She’d worked too hard to start over, to become a better person, to ever go back to the way she’d been.

He rolled his eyes skyward and his chest rose and fell. “Ma’am. I have no quarrel with you. Let me have my gun and I’ll be on my way.”

She blew out a breath. “Kick it over here.” He did, and the Glock skidded to a stop at her feet. “Don’t move unless you want your head blown off.” At his nod, she snatched it up and straightened, her rifle still trained on the trespasser. “I could shoot you. It’s the law.”

“But you won’t.” He lowered his arms and crossed them.

There was a breathtaking silence as that sank in. Her mind raced wild along its trail. “How do you know?”

“You ever shoot a man?”

Heat crept up her neck. She willed herself not to turn red like she always had, growing up, when caught out. “Have you?” she challenged, and lifted her chin. Tried looking tough. Lord, she hoped she looked tough.

He gazed at her steadily, and she clamped her teeth together. Swallowed hard.

He sauntered closer and she stared, mesmerized, the way a hare does when cornered by a western rattler. With a small push, he nudged her rifle barrel down. She breathed in the pure male scent of him. Not so much unwashed as worked hard. It made her nostrils flare. Her palms began to sweat. He wasn’t a man to tangle with.

“I want my gun.”

His words snapped her out of her trance and she backed up a few steps. Her mind turned in circles. She was fooling herself to think she had the upper hand here. Time to level the playing field. She tucked her rifle under her arm, pulled back the Glock’s slide to remove the chambered round, yanked out its magazine and tossed the empty gun back.

He caught it neatly with one hand. “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll see myself out.”

“I’ll be right behind you.”

His eyes gleamed. “And here I was, thinking you didn’t like me,” he said, and there was the corner of a grin there, bitten back as he holstered his gun.

Arrogant bastard. “I like your back. Intend to watch it as you go.”

His low chuckle made her flush again and then he strode away without a backward glance. Pebbles grazed the bottoms of her feet as she hurried after him, slightly dizzy. Off-balance. Bats called, up in the dark air. A clump of aspens leaned in the wind, intent, watchful. The rush and whisper of them roared in her ears.

At last they reached the gate and her fingers trembled on the keypad.

“No need.” He scaled the fence and dropped neatly on the other side. The moonlight glinted on his white teeth as he smiled. “Thanks for the tour.”

He tipped his hat and she watched him go. Studied the shadows long after they’d lost sight of him, too. She gripped the gate’s metal bar when her knees turned wobbly.

What had he wanted? Not to harm her, it seemed.

Would he come back?

Given her past, she wasn’t in any position to be spending time with dangerous men. But, suddenly, she wanted to know more about the scarred man who both frightened and fascinated her.

She gave herself a mental kick and headed back to her room behind the stables.

Bad boys.

She’d more than had her fill of them and wouldn’t let another occupy her thoughts. Not when the last one nearly destroyed her life. Not when, with her recent promotion to stable manager, she’d finally achieved the security that’d let her put her past behind for good.

The stranger’s striking face returned to her as she slipped under the covers. She punched her pillow. Hopefully she’d never see him again.

She wasn’t so sure her resolve would be up to the test.

* * *

JACK’S CELL BUZZED beside his plate of hotcakes the next morning. He nodded to the Shawnee Diner waitress holding a coffeepot, slid his mug to the edge of the table and brought the phone to his ear. It was a three-cup morning. He’d been up since four hanging flyers for his bail jumper, adrenaline jittering through him at the thought that he might be on the trail of his brother’s killers—and the redemption he desperately needed.

“Jack.”

“Mr. Cade, this is Diane May, owner of Mountain Sky Dude Ranch. I’m sorry we didn’t return your call last night. My husband forgot the charger and...” At a gruff throat clearing, she switched gears. “Anyways, how can we help you?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the approaching server. She crept forward, her expression wary. She looked ready to bolt at any sudden movement. He held still. Funny how that pretty gal last night hadn’t seemed the least afraid of him. He smiled inwardly as he recalled her sass, her humor, her bravado. “I’m a bounty hunter looking for a fugitive who’s worked for you.”

A gasp sounded, followed by, “A criminal? One of our workers? Who?”

Murmuring rose on the other end and Jack kept his face averted out of habit when his waitress poured the coffee then scuttled behind the counter. The cash register dinged as the joint’s only other customer checked out. A banjo and fiddle mingled in a broadcasted bluegrass tune.

The small restaurant must have been retrofitted from one of the old train cars that ran through this area once, he mused, waiting for someone to come back on the line. Its old-time booths rose high and pressed against small windows. Scuffed wood floors ran the length of the narrow space. An antique mirror reflected the space from behind the polished counter.

“Mr. Cade, this is Larry May,” came a man’s voice. “What’s going on?”

He glanced down the length of the empty restaurant. At the opposite end, the waitress leaned on the through-window and gossiped with the cook. No one to overhear.

“I’ve got a Failure to Appear warrant for Bill ‘Smiley’ Reno. He’s accused of drug possession and is a person of interest in a murder case.” Steam curled from his black coffee. Using the side of his fork, he cut through his short stack.

“Smiley? I think there’s some kind of mix-up. One of our groundskeepers goes by that nickname, but his name’s Ned Terrill. He’d never do anything like that.”

Butter and syrup melted on his tongue as he finished chewing and lowered his fork. “Ned Terrill’s an alias.” A phone shrilled on the counter and the waitress picked it up. Outside, a passing pickup honked at a couple of teenagers smoking beside the sidewalk’s geranium-filled planters.

“Can’t be. He showed us a driver’s license. Social Security card, too.”

“Fake.” The bitter black coffee stung the inside of his cheeks as he gulped.

He waited for the man’s sputtering to fade and ate more of his breakfast as he eyed the blue sky that domed over the small city. A good tracking day; he needed to get back on that ranch fast. A picture of the dainty woman who’d confronted him last night came to mind. She’d bristled like she stood ten feet tall; the image made him grin. It was a damn unfamiliar feeling.

“Who can we contact to verify your information? I don’t mean to be rude, but this is a bit of a shock. We’ve known Smiley for years. Our employees are like family.”

“Don’t mind at all.” He supplied Mr. May with contact info for Randall Cook and Lance, hung up and went back to eating. Sympathy for the couple rose. Most folks didn’t have much experience with the seedier side of life. They took people at their word. Saw the good since they hadn’t experienced much of the bad. His gaze drifted to his cell, willing a fast callback. It was eleven o’clock. Half the day gone and he didn’t want to waste more.

He crunched on a bacon slice and recalled how he’d been held at gunpoint by their caretaker last night. Impressive for a civilian... Not that her bold move would deter him from returning and catching his man—or men.

The woman had grit, and she’d piqued his interest nearly as much as this case had. Still, he wasn’t about to chase after romance as well as outlaws. He needed to focus on this case, not get sidetracked. His mission was about justice and putting bad guys away—not about finding personal happiness he didn’t deserve. Until he caught his brother’s killers, his own life would take a backseat. It didn’t begin to pay the debt he owed, but it was a start.

Plus, a face like his induced nightmares, not dreams... Strange how she’d stared right at him and hadn’t seemed put off. In fact, she’d gotten in his face, challenged him and he’d liked it. No denying that.

His cell vibrated.

“Mr. May.”

“Yes. I, uh, talked to Sheriff Covington, who spoke highly of you. I reckon what you’re saying about Smiley is true, although you left out the part about there being two people wanted on that murder.”

“It wasn’t my news to share. Do you know anyone who goes by the name Everett Ridland?”

A pause, then, “Nope. Doesn’t ring a bell. You think that could be the other fellow?”

“It’s possible.” He didn’t say the unspoken...that if Smiley had a job at Mountain Sky Dude Ranch using an alias, so might Everett. But what would tie them to the property? “Is it all right with you if I look around the place for the two men? His family says they dropped nearby a couple of days ago.”

“My stable manager’s up there alone, Jack.” Larry’s voice grew muffled and he heard him tell his wife to start packing.

“I believe I met her last night. Thought a late-night look-see might be a good idea until she pulled a rifle on me.”

A chuckle rumbled through the phone. “Sounds like Dani.”

“Dani...” Jack prompted, absurdly curious for her full name. The way she’d been filling his thoughts all morning was aggravating, his anticipation to see her again undeniable.

“Dani Crawford. A Texas gal. Used to be a competitive show jumper. We met her through our son, Ben, who was on the same tour. Sure wish he was here. I’d like his opinion on this, but he’s away on business in some rain forest and we can’t reach him. Maybe you’ve heard of his company? Therm Tel? They work with alternative energy.”

Jack shook his head and said, “Sounds like an interesting line of work.” Diplomatic. Then, “So, would it be all right if I stop by the ranch again?”

“Well. There’s one more thing. See, Smiley’s girlfriend works there and she’ll be arriving sometime today. Smiley and she live together in one of our staff houses.”

Silence descended. The bell above the door jingled when a family of four burst inside, a gust of humid air and the smell of exhaust hot on their heels. Jack’s mind turned over the unexpected information. “I stopped in a few local businesses this morning to inquire if anyone had seen Smiley around town. The owner of Timberland Outfitters said he sold Smiley some camping gear and supplies recently. Is Smiley’s girlfriend the type to help him hide out?”

“Tanya? Nah.”

Jack swallowed his last bite and lowered his fork. Seconds passed as he waited for Mr. May to rethink that answer.

“Well,” the man said at last. “Course, I wouldn’t have suspected Smiley, either. There’s lots of places to hide out around there. Most of the old copper mines are blocked, but not all. Got the Pike National Forest next to us, too, plus the Continental Divide. Some ravines are so steep you’d never find them ’less you fell in.”

“Sounds like I’ve got my work cut out for me. I’ll need Tanya’s address to request a search warrant.”

“Technically, she’s living in employee housing and her residence agreement gives consent for searches, but better be safe than sorry. Though I urge you to use your discretion, Jack, and find another way to sniff around without raising suspicions. Same for the cabins. Our first guests arrive day after tomorrow and I don’t want them scared off.”

“By Smiley and his friend, or me?” Jack asked after jotting down the information.

“Both. No offense. But folks will get spooked if they think a wanted man’s around.”

“If I don’t find him before they arrive, I’ll blend in. You can say I’m one of your new hires. A wrangler. That’ll give me an excuse to ride around.”

“You know anything about horses?”

Jack pictured a Christmas photo taken of him and his four brothers and sister, Jewel, lined up on horseback. He’d been ten, his youngest brother, Jesse, one. He swallowed hard. “Enough.”

“Good. Staff arrives today and tomorrow, so no one will think anything of a new wrangler joining the crew. I suppose I’ll need to hire a new groundskeeper,” the owner mused, as if speaking to himself. “And a new cook, if I let Tanya go.”

“No.” Jack beckoned the waitress for the bill and fished his wallet from his back pocket. “She might lead me straight to him and his partner. Got the best chance of doing that if no one knows why I’m there.”

“Except Dani,” Larry cut in. “She’s our manager and needs to know what’s going on.”

A paper receipt fluttered to the tabletop. Jack didn’t bother looking at it, his mind full of the gutsy woman who’d looked all too comfortable with a rifle.

“She saw me on the property last night. Looks like she’s already in the loop, though I would have preferred otherwise.”

“Diane took Dani under her wing when she lost her mother while on tour. She turned to us for a job when she quit show jumping. We trust her and so can you. And she’ll be a help.”

A long breath escaped him. He wasn’t exactly the trusting type. Despite the Mays’ assurances, he’d keep his eye on Dani. “I prefer working on my own, but thanks. I’ll stay until I’ve either found Smiley and his partner, or learned they’ve left the area.”

“Sounds like you’re the man for the job. Guess you’re hired.”

Jack pocketed an uneaten apple, dropped a twenty on the table and didn’t bother torturing the skittish server for change. A few steps had him out the door and heading to his parked pickup.

“Just don’t forget my Christmas bonus,” he said wryly, then hung up, his mind intent on catching his man.

Though that didn’t explain all of the energy jittering through him. He looked forward to seeing Ms. Dani Crawford again—a lot more than he was comfortable admitting.


CHAPTER THREE (#u48e3b601-4dcf-5d6b-adba-429c9629c524)

A BOUNTY HUNTER.

Dani leaned her elbows on the main pasture fence and steadied her breath, slowly inhaling the familiar scents of horses, dung and oats as she completed her morning assessment of the herd. Her head refused to wrap itself around the story her employers had called her with minutes ago.

Her midnight cowboy was a bail agent who sought, of all people, their mild-mannered groundskeeper, Smiley, for jumping bail on a drug possession charge. Worse, he and another unknown suspect were persons of interest in a double homicide. Impossible. She’d never so much as seen Smiley pick up a gun. He was easygoing, friendly and the first to lend a hand. He and his girlfriend, Tanya, one of their cooks, always led the line dancing and square dance groups.

But you can’t judge a book by its cover... The light stung her gritty eyes as she assessed the ranch’s fifty quarter horses, her thoughts whirling. Everyone had believed her to be a hardworking Texas girl with a bit of a rebellious streak. More mischief than outright trouble. When her mother died ten years ago, around her twenty-first birthday, however, she’d become someone else: a person numb to the drop-kick realization her mom was gone.

Living from thrill to thrill had kept her grief at bay, especially after her beloved horse, Dolly, broke her leg during a competition four years later and had to be put down. Not only had she lost a companion she’d loved with all her heart, she’d lost her dream of winning enough competition prize money to pay for college.

Out of prospects and unwilling to go home a failure, what little common sense she’d had leached right out of her and she’d taken acting out to the next level. When her actions nearly landed her in jail shortly after Dolly’s accident, she’d come to her senses fast and started over.

Much as she’d labored all these years since to right the out-of-control tilt her life had taken, she never could relax. Deep down, she feared her checkered past wouldn’t stay in Oklahoma where she’d left it.

What if the bounty hunter—Jackson Cade—uncovered everything? Discovered the warrant for her arrest? Her stomach rolled. He’d be working here, undercover, as a horse wrangler. Law enforcement on her doorstep. A bounty hunter, and her a wanted woman.

Her head dropped. Bright sun splashed on the grazing herd, and the soft gold air moved up the back of her neck. The group looked healthy and in good shape as they meandered in the space, tails swishing away flies. Some touched noses. Others gazed out across the vast property, absently munching hay from pasture feeders.

If only she felt as peaceful as they did.

Her damp palms pressed on the soft-wood rail as the clear sky hovered above her like an accusation. Jackson Cade threatened everything. She’d love to chase him off, but couldn’t go against her employers’ wishes.

No. She’d just have to help him find Smiley to clear up this confusion and get him to leave as soon as possible—and not only because of her fear, but because of her unsettling interest in him.

One by one the horses lifted their heads to study a black pickup as it barreled through the front gate. Her pulse slammed. Jackson? While the kitchen, groundskeepers and housekeeping staff had arrived this morning and gotten straight to work on the twenty cabins dotting the five-hundred-acre property, most of the wranglers wouldn’t show until tomorrow.

The tall man emerged, wearing a fitted white T-shirt, an unbuttoned plaid shirt rolled up over his forearms and faded jeans, moving with the careless grace of a rider. His lightning-bolt scar flickered across his cheek. It added to his menace, but also made him look vulnerable somehow. An enigma. A puzzle she wanted no part of figuring out.

“Miss me?” he drawled when he reached her. He stood, broad shouldered and slim hipped, his back as straight as a pine tree. Thick-lashed, brown eyes peered down at her, the gleam in them hard to decipher. Other than his scar, his features were regular, his lean face strong and bronzed, but adding to this was a steadiness of expression, a restraint that, despite his sarcasm, seemed to hide sadness.

She turned and propped her boot heel on the fence, trying to rein in her galloping heart. “I missed your back. Wouldn’t mind seeing it again soon.”

“Well. That makes two of us.” He lifted his wide-brimmed hat to catch the small puff of wind that stirred the rising heat. His wavy brown hair lay flat against his skull. A bit of it flipped upward at the tops of his ears where his hat must end. “Till then, I guess I’m your new wrangler. Name’s Jack and you’re Dani.” His voice was as deep as she remembered, but sort of warm in the middle. She nodded. “You’ve spoken with Larry and Diane?”

“Yes.”

She moved around him, restless, and noticed that he turned with her. Had she aroused his suspicions already? It seemed unlikely, but his need to keep her in sight jangled her nerves. “They asked me to give you a tour of the place.”

He resettled his hat. “I’m fine on my own. Would appreciate a mount, though.”

She tried on the tempting idea of avoiding him for size, then rejected it. “I can’t go against their wishes. Let’s saddle up. Any preferences?”

She flicked her eyes sideways as he stepped closer and studied the herd. He had a strong brow, straight nose and square jaw—a rugged profile that seemed carved right out of the jagged-topped Rockies. And why was she staring at him?

“That white mare.”

Following his point, she spotted his choice. Regret settled in her gut as she eyed the large horse who stood alone on the far side of the pasture, grazing. “She’s a bucker, dangerous to approach and not pasture sound. When the Mays return with her replacement, she might have to be euthanized.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Doesn’t look skittish.”

“No. Milly used to be one of our best horses until some idiot rode her through a storm. Scared her. Now she won’t let anyone on her or near her.” Not even Dani, to her profound grief, though she’d tried and tried and tried.

She blamed herself for what’d happened to Milly. She’d allowed an inexperienced kid to take her out, trusting Milly’s experience and temperament. And it brought back every bit of guilt she still felt over Dolly’s injury and death. She loved horses with a passion, and when she failed them, it cut to the bone.

“I wouldn’t let anyone near again, either.” He rubbed the back of his neck. She tried meeting his eye but something about its steely sheen unsettled her. It was almost like he looked right through her. Inside her. “You pick, then.”

Guessing it was a rhetorical question, she asked, anyway. “How much riding experience do you have?”

“I was on a horse before I could walk.”

Of course he was. She kept her eye roll in check and pointed at a buff-colored gelding with a black forelock and mane. His head drooped over the side of the fence and he stared at the distant hills. “Pokey will do.”

“Pokey?” One thick eyebrow rose, a skeptical light in his eyes. “Hope I can handle him.”

“Guess we’ll see.” She felt a grin come on and caught it. Getting friendly with a bounty hunter was not on her bucket list. Not even close. “But we can’t ride them until we catch them.”

“Which is yours?” he asked when they returned from the barn, halters and leads in hand.

She unlatched the gate and slid inside, careful not to make any fast moves. “Storm. The gray mare with the white stockings.”

“She’s a beauty,” he murmured in her ear, and a jolt of awareness rocketed through her. Before reaching Pokey, he stopped near Milly. Her nostrils flared as she blew, backing up a couple of steps, her ears flattening.

Poor, sweet girl. She’d been born and raised on this ranch. Deserved a better fate than what awaited her. From her own experiences, Dani knew how just one incident could be enough to derail your entire life. She hadn’t stopped praying for divine intervention to get Milly back on track and save her, since Dani hadn’t been able to do it herself.

To her surprise, Jack extended a hand, an apple in his palm. Milly’s head rose and she eyed the fruit down the length of her muzzle. After a long minute, where Dani held her breath and Milly stood still, Jack dropped the treat on the ground and headed for his mount. Milly watched him leave before she edged closer, snatched up the fruit and retreated to the corner of the pasture she preferred.

Phew.

That could have gone very badly. Horribly, considering the thrashing she’d once seen Milly give an overconfident groundskeeper who’d ignored the signs of her agitation until he found himself on the wrong side of her hooves.

What inspired Jack’s daring, unexpected act of kindness?

She puzzled over it while they finished tacking their horses, mounted, then headed out of the corral.

“This is the main house where our guests eat. There’s also a rec room and the second floor has rooms, too.” They passed a large, two-story log-cabin-style building with a wraparound deck that expanded on the side to a thirty-by-fifty-foot space. “We hold our barbecues, line dancing and bingo nights out here.”

A riding lawn mower, driven by a red-faced man, hummed by on the field separating the main lodge from the pasture. It kicked up the smell of fresh-cut grass and gasoline with each passing sweep. Pokey jerked his head and stepped sideways. Whatever Jack’s reply might have been evaporated as he worked to control the spirited animal.

At last the machine droned farther downfield. “Pokey, huh?” His narrowed gaze flicked her way.

“Not having trouble with him, are you?” Innocence oozed from every syllable.

“No. Enjoying the ride, thanks,” he insisted through gritted teeth, his words sounding a bit winded as he settled the horse.

“We aim to please.”

“So...Pokey...”

“It suits him, don’t you think?”

A quick laugh escaped Jack, a low, husky sound that set off a fluttery feeling in her stomach. “He’s a little hot, but nothing I can’t handle.” His knowing look got her flustered.

With the horses in hand, they continued past the hay barn, Pokey and Storm brushing noses. She lifted a hand to one of the grounds crew, Todd. His eyes went wide when they landed on Jack. Openmouthed, he returned her wave and wiped his wet brow with a rag before he went back to planting bright petunias around their flagpole.

“How many staff members work here?” Jack asked, as the horses stepped slowly on the packed dirt roadway.

“I’ve got seven wranglers, and they stay there, at the old railroad station—” she pointed at a converted, single-story structure “—with the kitchen crew, which is another three.”

“That doesn’t include Tanya, right?” He shot her a sharp, assessing look and pulled in a fidgeting Pokey. The belt buckle tattoo she’d spied earlier caught her eye.

“Right.” Her throat dried as she imagined what he thought—or conjectured, given Tanya’s relationship with Smiley. “She pays rent to stay in her own cabin. Over that hill.”

He turned his head and squinted at the distant building on the edge of the Pike National Forest.

“A couple of the groundskeepers lodge with the wranglers, as well, but a couple commute,” she hurried on, not wanting him to dwell on kindhearted Tanya, her best friend on the ranch. “As for the cleaning staff, they mostly live off site except Nan, who’s been with the Mays forever as a kitchen and housekeeping supervisor. I believe she’s mostly retired, though don’t tell her that. If you’re lucky, she’ll make her green chili stew while you’re here.”

“Till I catch Smiley.”

“He’s not guilty.” Her hand tightened on the reins when Jack didn’t respond. “He’s not that type.” A defensive note entered her voice.

It irked her when people got labeled for something they didn’t do. The sooner he found Smiley and cleared up this mess, the better. She needed Jack off this property ASAP.

“So these are all guest cabins?” Jack asked, smoothly changing the subject. The horses’ hooves splashed through a puddle left over from an early morning rainstorm. A woman with a mop and bucket emerged from a large stone structure. Behind her rose Mount Logan, its pine-covered incline cut through with a brown switchback trail.

“Some. They’re scattered on the property. That one’s Stonehenge. It’s our biggest. The one farther down with the balcony is the Homestead. We can have up to fifty guests a week when we’re full, and most of the season’s booked solid.”

Pride filled her, temporarily washing away her angst over Jack and the very real danger he represented. As the newly promoted stable manager, she’d worked hard over the winter to ensure their usual bookings returned and to attract new customers with her updated website.

This season was supposed to be perfect—a corner turned from her troubled past—and then the bounty hunter appeared. “You’ll stay with the wranglers.”

“I’ll find my own spot.”

At her surprised intake of breath, Storm’s ears flicked backward and her gait picked up as they entered the orientation trail used on day one of the guests’ arrival. “And where’s that?”

“Don’t know yet. I’ll be on the lookout.”

“All my wranglers bunk down together.”

He tugged at his shirt collar, creases appearing in the corners of his eyes. The strengthening sun beat down from the vast arc of blue overhead and a trickle of wet pooled at the base of her neck. “I’m not part of your crew.”

“You are while you’re undercover. Guess that makes me your boss.” She enjoyed the extra white that appeared around his dark eyes a little too much. “Do you mind having a lady in charge?”

“Got a problem with anyone telling me what to do. Look, boss, we need to get one thing straight. I only take orders from one person—myself.” He held the reins loosely in his left hand, his body swaying along with Pokey, his ease in the saddle evident.

She opened her mouth to mention he’d have to hide his tattoo as part of the dress code but decided to put off that argument for another day. Hopefully he’d locate Smiley quickly and leave before their first guests arrived. She’d do everything she could to facilitate those events, though strangely, another part of her felt let down at the thought.

Her mama had always said she attracted trouble like a fiddler attracted square dancing. And her mother had never been wrong. A long sigh escaped her.

There was the time she’d lost a school year’s worth of playground privileges for taking Frankie Joe’s dare to walk on top of the monkey bars. Another was when the church youth group leader had personally brought her home after Dani brawled with an older boy who’d called her “chicken legs” the first time her mother had gotten her to wear a dress.

She’d been a ponytail-wearing, makeup-avoiding, bruise-and-scrape-covered, bone-breaking horse fanatic who’d surprised everyone by cleaning up good once in a blue moon...and those only happened every other year.

How her mama had despaired of her. If only she could see Dani now. She still wore her hair back and didn’t so much as own a tube of mascara, but she’d walked straight since her huge mistake years ago. Would this brush with the law yank her back to that time? Undo all of her hard work to steady her life?

They rode along the sloping path, following a trail that came up the back of a bluff, through a clump of aspens with white trunks and green fluttering leaves, and led across a level patch of lush grass and wildflowers to the rocky edge.

She dismounted. Storm, used to being petted, rubbed her sleek, silver head against Dani’s arm then dropped her head to graze. “If you’re not leading groups out on horseback, taking them down the Arkansas rapids, fly fishing, zip-lining—”

“Zip-lining?” he interrupted, his tone incredulous, as he eased off Pokey and joined her at the ledge.

“Oh, you’ll love it.” Her voice rose as she warmed to the thought of the Goliath dangling from a line and speeding over treetops. “Nothing but you, a harness and pine trees. We have the longest and fastest zip lines in Colorado. Six in total, from 850 to 1,900 feet. Right out there.” She pointed to the high peaks rising across the valley that comprised this section of the Continental Divide.

He stared at the steep inclines then back down to the flat, muddy water of the South Platt River below. “Thanks for the invite. I’ll pass.”

“If you don’t fit in with the rest, they’ll question it. You don’t want to alert anyone, do you?”

A hawk wheeled overhead in lazy circles. “I don’t think there’s much chance of me fitting in, is there?”

“Why not?” she insisted. When she turned to look at him, he was disturbingly close, her senses alive to the brush of his shoulder against hers.

He gazed out at the valley. “You know what I look like.”

It wasn’t a question—just a statement of fact with a hint of resignation at the edges. It made her soften toward him.

“Lots of people have, uh, scars,” she floundered, trying to find a polite way to describe the deep ridge that looked bad enough to have gone bone deep. “It adds character. Makes you interesting. The guests will want to know about you.”

A humorless laugh escaped him. “A character? Interesting? Well. That’s something. Consider me your newest attraction.” He grabbed Pokey’s reins and mounted in a move so agile it aroused her deep, feminine appreciation. There was something about a man who rode well.

She watched as he and Pokey disappeared around a bend.

Her next attraction indeed...


CHAPTER FOUR (#u48e3b601-4dcf-5d6b-adba-429c9629c524)

JACK RODE ALONG the trail, alert for signs of Smiley and possibly a partner passing through. Another horse trotted up behind him and he found himself smiling. Dani Crawford.

He had to give it to her, she didn’t intimidate easy and he liked that. Too much. Although he shouldn’t make a lot out of the way she dismissed his scar. She hadn’t looked him square in the eye since he arrived. Clearly he made her skittish, no matter what tune she sang. He pulled his hat brim down against the low sun and nudged Pokey up a steep incline.

As for his following her rules, that wasn’t happening.

“Where’s that lead?” He pointed at a yellow-painted wooden arrow that marked a new trailhead on their right.

“Coyote Ridge.”

He looked over his shoulder and glimpsed the pretty picture she made in her white tank top tucked into worn jeans, her braided red-gold hair grabbing every bit of light leaking through the forest canopy. The stubborn tilt to her chin caught his eye, as did her unabashed gaze. Cute was too small a word to describe a fierce woman like Dani, though it came to mind. Then again, he had no business deciding which word suited her best.

He slowed Pokey as they neared the opening. The trail sloped upward into denser forest then turned out of view.

She and the gray quarter horse pulled up on his left side and he angled his head to see her. Her big eyes swerved out from under his. Why the guilty flash in them? His instinct not to trust her the way the Mays did returned.

“It also goes to one of the old mine shafts,” she added offhandedly, her tone a little too casual for his taste. “They used to dig for copper here, and the railroad stopped on our property for it up until a hundred years ago.”

His shoulders tensed, his senses alert to every sound. His target could be hiding nearby, and he wouldn’t be caught unawares, especially with a woman present who could end up in the cross fire. Of course, Dani seemed more than able to defend herself, though he’d be sure never to put her in that position. “Let’s check it out.”

He’d already guided Pokey up the path when he heard her say, “But you need to know the orientation trail. It’s where we take guests on their first day.”

“I’ll study the map. Go ahead without me.” Pressing on, he guided his horse around a steep turn, hoping to leave his jabbering “boss” behind. He’d have no chance of surprising anyone if she was along chitchatting. More important, he wouldn’t risk putting her in danger.

An old mine shaft would make a good hideout, though its proximity to the trail made it doubtful Smiley would use it, unless he was dumb. And overconfident. And Jack liked dumb and overconfident. He liked that combination a lot. It made his job easier.

Hooves sounded behind him and Pokey looked backward and blew. Jack held in a sigh. Dani was turning out to be his hardest tail to shake. Resigned, he asked, “Does Smiley carry a .45?”

The path emerged into a grassy patch and she brought Storm up beside him. The heat waved the air around them. “I’ve never seen him touch a gun. He’s a nice guy. Responsible. Since he didn’t let me know he wasn’t working this season, I believe he’ll show up.”

“Let’s hope he does.” Jack pressed his knees into Pokey’s sides when the horse dropped his head to graze. The tall grass bent with each stride, leaving a trampled track in their wake.

“So, what? You’re just going to take him in...no questions asked?” Her expression was indignant.

He shrugged. “I’m not a detective or a judge.”

“You carry a gun.” She pointed at his plaid shirt, as though she could see the shoulder holster under it that held his Glock.

“Goes with the job.”

Her eyes traveled over him, making his pulse pick up. They passed out of the sunny spot and continued upward on the rocky track.

“But are you a good guy or a bad guy?”

“Let me know when you’ve figured it out. Been wondering that myself.”

He caught her head shake out of the corner of his good eye. “Irritating. You’ve got that part down.”

His lips twitched. “Was thinking the same about you.”

A huff escaped her and he flat-out grinned, enjoying this exchange too much.

“Tell me about Tanya.”

“Why do you ask?” Her voice rose, defensive. Was she protecting Tanya? Had Dani helped Smiley when he’d shown up at the ranch? He couldn’t rule out she just might be shielding them both.

“Her association with Smiley. How long has Tanya worked here?”

“Five years.”

“And Smiley?” He ducked under a low-hanging branch and breathed in the earthy smells of the spring forest.

“He was here before I started.”

“Did they meet here?”

Dani rode through a bright strip of sunshine and her hair turned to fire. “I believe so. Am I being interrogated?” Again, a defensive note sharpened her tone.

“Gathering information, is all.” He clenched his thighs, urging Pokey up another incline.

“So, are you from around here?” she asked, turning the tables. Rocks rolled beneath the climbing horses’ hooves.

“Carbondale.”

“Does your family live there?”

“Yes.”

“Who? Mother, father, siblings?”

His throat closed around his answer and his eyes watered slightly as he squinted up at the sun. “My brothers, sister and mother,” he said when he was sure of his voice. “My father died a few years back.”

“Sorry about that. My mother died ten years ago.”

He peered at her for a moment, absorbing her stoic expression, impressed by her quiet strength. “My condolences, as well.”

“She had breast cancer but didn’t tell anyone until the very end. My sister called me while I was touring with a show-jumping group and told me to hurry home. I arrived at the hospital half an hour after she passed.” Her voice sank lower and lower before dropping away completely.

They rode for a few minutes in silence as he thought of her loss. It’d been two years since his brother died, but the pain felt as fresh as a newly dug grave. “That’s tough.”

“You don’t realize how quickly everything can fall apart until it does,” she murmured, and her eyelashes swept her cheeks. “It makes you never want anything good ever again.”

He looked at her sharply, hearing his own thoughts come straight out of her mouth. It unsettled him, this connection he suddenly felt to her.

Time to return to easier topics. “Where are you from?”

“Texas. My father owns a bull ranch there. He’s been fighting to keep it after he had a stroke last year.”

“It’s hard giving up land.” He pulled up when a wild turkey darted across the path. Three more followed, necks outstretched, legs and feet a blur. With deep-throated cackles, they disappeared again in the rustling brush.

“I know.” She blew out her cheeks. “The doctor says Dad’s got to slow down and my sister, Claire, and her fiancé, Tanner, are there helping out. He quit bull riding to help save the ranch and they’re getting married in a few months.”

“Good man.”

“It’s not as simple as that.” She shooed away the swarming gnat cloud they’d entered.

“Nothing ever is.”

“Do you ever string more than five words together?”

“Yes.” He bit back a grin at her eye roll when he didn’t elaborate. Then he spotted a boarded-up entrance over a rocky outcropping. “Hey. There’s the mine.”

They pulled up, dismounted and tied up the horses. Wooden slats crisscrossed the space, but a couple had fallen off at the bottom. Could a man crawl in through there? Only one way to find out.

“What are you doing?” she hissed when he dropped to the ground and pressed his good eye against the opening. Light filtered through the cracks and pierced some of the gloom. Nothing inside stirred. It appeared empty.

“Looking for Smiley. You?”

“I told you. He’s not here.”

“No?” He straightened and studied the remains of a campfire. “Someone stayed here. Only one set of tracks. Whoever it was didn’t stick around, though.”

If Smiley was on his own, did that mean he and the other guy, maybe Everett Ridland, had split up? If so, an explanation could be that Smiley’s partner worked on the ranch and would be able to hide in plain sight as long as he used an alias.

She blinked rapidly. “Could be a camper. We adjoin the Pike National Forest. Sometimes people get confused and pass through.”

He poked at the cinders with a twig, his gaze sweeping the bare dirt patch. “That’s a nice theory.”

“You don’t know him.”

“I hope to know him, soon.” He pointed at a set of fresh tracks leading away from the campfire onto a small footpath. “Where does that trail lead?”

Her large eyes traveled from the foot impressions to the small trail. “The ranch.”

“Where, specifically?”

“Excuse me?”

“Where does it come out?”

“Behind Tanya’s cabin.”

“Huh.”

A deep rumble sounded above them and he instinctively dove for Dani. He swept her into his arms and covered her just before the first rocks of the avalanche rolled down the bluff and smashed into his shoulder, head and back, the dirt rising up around them in a blinding cloud.

The horses neighed as the stone shower continued on and on, his mouth, his nose, his lungs filling with gritty, bitter earth. As for his heart, it bumped hard in his chest. Drummed in his ears. Then, suddenly, all was still and quiet.

Dani’s clutch on his shoulders eased and he felt her stand. He shoved to his feet but couldn’t see anything, his eyes now burning.

“Good girl, Storm. Pokey. Luckily the horses were just out of reach.”

He nodded, unseeing.

The crunch of Dani’s boots on the stone-filled area grew louder as she approached. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He rubbed his eye, clearing away the grit.

“Can you see?”

“Not at the moment, exactly.” A couple more swipes and Dani’s outline swam into focus. Her brow furrowed as she stared directly at him, her gaze questioning.

“You didn’t wipe your left eye,” she observed.

He jerked, realizing his mistake, and brushed dirt off his eyelashes and lid, the damaged nerves there making it less sensitive, according to the doctor who’d treated him.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

His hands stilled then dropped to his sides. “Can I stop you?”

“Probably not.”

“Okay. Shoot,” he answered, guessing what she wanted to know...information she might figure out sooner or later.

“Are you blind in your left eye?”

Tension coiled between his shoulder blades as he braced for the pity his brothers had given him after the injury. “Legally blind, but I can see some,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Still want me as a wrangler?”

His jaw worked at the memory of his brothers making unconscious allowances for him, how that’d made him feel less than he’d already felt after letting the family down in the worst way a man could. His chest burned. At last his good eye cleared and her features popped into sharp focus. Instead of looking sympathetic, a line appeared between her lowered brows.

“I never wanted you to begin with. With that scowl, you resemble an extra in a Coen brothers’ movie—one that doesn’t end well. And you clearly have an issue with authority, but your skills...” She trailed off and looked upward at the cliff. “You know how to handle a crisis. Thanks for saving my skin.”

A strange sensation swelled in his chest. “I like Coen brothers’ movies.”

She headed for the horses, glanced at him over her shoulder and grinned. “Why am I not surprised? We’d better go. I need to tell grounds keeping about this.”

He nodded, studying the outcropping. It looked stable enough. What had set off the avalanche? “How often do those happen?”

“It’s the first one I’ve seen since I started here. Why?”

“Just thinking.”

“Do you believe someone started it?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll find out,” he said grimly. He gestured toward the horses. “After you.”

He needed to get Dani out of the area if his target lurked nearby. Once he spoke to Tanya, he’d explore the foot path and see if he couldn’t flush out his quarry.

He swung his leg over Pokey, settled in the saddle and followed Dani. If an armed, reckless Smiley skulked this close to the ranch, Jack’s job here had just changed. He wasn’t just hunting on the property anymore, he thought, eyeing the graceful sway of Dani’s back as she rode ahead. He was now protecting it, and the woman who both irritated and fascinated him, too.


CHAPTER FIVE (#u48e3b601-4dcf-5d6b-adba-429c9629c524)

DANI KNOCKED ON Tanya’s door an hour later, Jack by her side. The cowboy’s proximity made her senses fire to life and become acutely aware of the hard brush of his biceps against her shoulder, his looming height and rugged good looks. She inhaled the scent of him—a slight hint of woodsy pine, horses, leather and bar soap, a cowboy’s version of fancy aftershave that worked on her.

Not that she had any business noticing a man who looked like the kind of trouble she avoided. The old Dani would have flirted up a storm with this dangerous man, but her new, wiser self knew better than to trust her attraction.

The aroma of fresh-baked corn bread seeped through a window screen, breaking her from her thoughts, and Smiley came to mind. He usually ate at least one pan himself and declared the dish his favorite. Had Tanya baked it for her runaway boyfriend?

She sealed off the traitorous thought. Tanya was good people. Smiley, too. If he’d been caught with drugs, there had to be an explanation. Maybe he’d been wearing someone else’s coat or driving their car. Whatever the reason, this must be a mistake. Still, she’d promised to introduce Jack and ask Tanya for the information he needed.

Was she betraying her friend? Yes.

Did that make her a hypocrite? Yes...considering her own past.

The door swung open and Tanya appeared in the frame. Her quick smile faded when she glimpsed Jack. She tucked her dark hair behind her ears, slid her tank top strap up her thin arm and fidgeted with one of her leather bracelets.

“My first visitor. It sure is good to see you. How’ve you been, girl?” Despite her friendly tone, her eyes kept darting to Jack. Knowing him, he read everything into her uneasy expression. Yet Dani knew Tanya. Her friend was the worst liar, one of the reasons Smiley never let her play poker with them on weekends. Her twitchy right eye always gave her away, as did her tendency to repeat herself when she was nervous.

No.

Tanya was trustworthy, as was Smiley. But he might be hiding out because he didn’t want to be charged with a crime he didn’t commit.

Hadn’t she done the same when she’d fled to Colorado to reboot her off-the-rails life and avoid bringing trouble, aka her incarcerated ex and the pending charges against her, to her family’s doorstep?

The news item that’d shown the composite sketch of her face with her misspelled name flashed before her eyes. And she could still hear her former boyfriend vowing to find her when he got released.

But the police didn’t have her correct name and she hadn’t talked much about her family back then, so Kevin never knew exactly where in Texas they lived.

She squashed her sudden spike of fear. She’d left that world. Stood on her own two feet now. Nothing would knock her off them again.

Please don’t let Jack turn that sharp investigative eye on me...

“I’m good. I like your hair. Did you get a perm?”

Tanya shot her a tic-smile and thrust her hands in the pockets of her jeans skirt. “I’m still getting used to it.”

“It’s great. I, uh, wanted to introduce you to one of our new wranglers. Jack, this is Tanya. Tanya—Jack.”

“Howdy,” Tanya blurted, but she didn’t step onto the porch to extend a hand. In fact, she hadn’t even hugged Dani, which was unlike her. Did Jack’s appearance scare her? He really needed to stop scowling around people.

“Ma’am.” Jack dipped his head. He stared steadily at Tanya, his eyes dark, his expression unreadable.

“Smells like you made some corn bread,” Dani observed when an awkward silence descended. Tanya should have invited them in by now. Strangely, her friend stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind her.

“Yes. I’m hoping Smiley might stop by. He hasn’t shown up yet, has he?”

Her shoulder muscles relaxed; Tanya didn’t know anything about Smiley.

“No. In fact, I thought I might run into both of you here.”

“I haven’t seen him.” Tanya bent down to adjust a loose strap on her sandal and her hair slid forward, obscuring her face. “I haven’t seen him at all.”

Unease curled in her gut at Tanya’s repetition. “When’s the last time you spoke to him? I thought he would have shown up today with the rest of the groundskeepers.”

Her gaze flicked sideways at Jack, who peered through the window beside the front door. Tanya brought her hand up to her mouth and nibbled on her nail. “Didn’t you hear? We broke up months ago, though I’m hoping to get back together.”

Dani shifted her weight onto her other foot. It bugged her that she felt more suspicious than sympathetic. Jack’s doing. She could trust her own judgment now.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.” When she wrapped her arms around Tanya, she inhaled a familiar whiff of cherry. What did she associate that scent with? “How about I stop by later for a chat?”

Tanya gave her a big, crinkly smile. “That’d be nice.”

“Good to meet you,” Jack said, as he followed Dani down the porch stairs and onto the path that swept by parked Gator vehicles, used for off-road carting, in front of a two-car garage.

“See. I told you Tanya wouldn’t know anything.” She waved to Nan, who rocked on the front porch of the May’s house. Like Dani and the Mays, she lived here year-round.

The elderly woman stopped petting a calico cat on her lap and waved back. Her bright pink shirt contrasted with her white cloud of hair and brought out her piercing blue eyes.

“Tanya knows more than she’s saying,” he murmured.

Two energetic Australian shepherds bounded down from the porch before she could argue the point. She crouched for the hurtling fur balls.

“Hey, Beau. Hey, Belle.” She laughed as the dogs jostled to give her frantic tongue baths. “Who brought you guys back from the vet’s?”

“Sam picked them up,” called Nan. “They got all the porcupine needles out. Would you believe some were lodged in the back of their throats?”

When she gestured for them to approach, they climbed the steps and Dani settled on the porch swing. Jack leaned against the railing, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Poor puppies,” Dani crooned. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson.” Beau whined and rolled over on his back, presenting his white belly. Belle swerved back down the porch after a butterfly. Her obsession.

“I’m Nan.” The woman extended a gnarled hand in Jack’s direction, and he shook it gently with an old-school, courtly kind of grace. “My, aren’t you a tall drink of water. Are you single?”

“Nan.” Dani stopped rubbing Beau’s soft stomach and shot the would-be matchmaker a warning look. Nan approached setting up couples like it was a competitive sport—one she indulged in with gusto every season.

“Jackson Cade.” To her surprise, he didn’t seem ruffled by her question at all. In fact, he gave Nan a warm smile. “And I’m single.”

Nan’s rocking chair picked up speed and she returned his smile. “Well, now. Dani here’s single, too.”

“That a fact,” drawled Jack. He tipped back his broad-brimmed hat and studied her with amused eyes.

“He’s our new wrangler,” Dani blurted, heat creeping in her cheeks at the shrewd look Nan was giving her.

Nan’s rocking chair slowed. “Diane and Larry didn’t mention a new hire.”

“It was a last-minute thing. They should be home soon, right?”

The cat on Nan’s lap purred loudly as she scratched behind its ear. “They’re about an hour out. Got a nice deal on a seven-year-old finished heel horse.”

“Good,” Dani observed absently, her mind flashing to Milly. The mare had been one of her best roping horses and they needed a replacement. When they put on their weekly rodeo, she’d always gave a show. Had relished performing as much as Dani did. No, more. She stopped petting Beau and straightened. “Hey. You haven’t seen Smiley, have you?”

Nan rubbed the side of her nose. “Not that I’m certain.”

“What do you mean?”

“Thought I might have spotted him a couple of days ago, but haven’t seen him since. I heard rumours that he got into some trouble, though, so I must have been mistaken.” She held up the glasses that dangled from a chain around her neck. “Whatever you do, don’t get old.”

“Who’s old?” Dani avoided Nan’s playful swat and kissed her soft, creased cheek. “Would you ask Diane and Larry to page me when they get in?”

“I will. Nice meeting you, Jack. I expect you’ll be at the welcome-back square dance tonight.”

“Same, ma’am. As for the party, I’m not much of a dancer.”

“Dani here can teach you, can’t you dear?”

Dani opened her mouth, thought better of her words and swallowed them. “I’m sure Mr. Cade’s got more important things to do.”

“Well, now.” The corners of his mouth hooked up, the attractive half smile that got under her skin flashing at her. “Don’t know if I can turn down such a tempting offer.”

Nan’s hand clap shooed the cat off her lap. “Of course you can’t. I knew I saw something between you two.”

“Goodbye, Nan,” Dani said firmly, then shot her elder a significant look before traipsing down the steps after Jack.

Bella and Beau wove through their legs and Jack’s hand came up, quick and warm around her elbow, his touch firing along her skin.

“Nan saw Smiley,” he observed, as they passed an old-time stagecoach, which the guests still got to ride in. Chickens meandered through its spoked wheels.

“She thinks she did. Beau. Stop.” The rambunctious dog quit jumping and took off after his sister.

“Tanya’s hiding something.”

She rounded on him, her patience wearing thin. “How do you know?” Overhead, an American flag hung from its rope in the still air. The fragrance of the newly planted petunias encircled them.

“I saw two glasses on her coffee table.”

“So?”

“She said we were her first visitors.”

Her mouth opened then closed. Brain cells, get moving, she ordered, but they just rolled in her skull, sluggish. He was too observant by half. “Tanya wouldn’t lie. She must have used both of them.”

“Is she a sloppy housekeeper?”

“No...”

“Food for thought.”

“Corn bread,” she blurted, not sure if she was doing the right thing, but suddenly needing to speak when the source of the cherry scent came back to her. “It’s Smiley’s favorite.”

Jack nodded slowly and a smile lightened his eyes to dark amber with gold flecks. “I appreciate that.”

“And her hair.” Was she really saying this about her friend?

“Go on.”

“It smelled like one of his cigars.” Her chest burned at her admission...but she couldn’t hold it back. There had to be reasonable explanations for this...

But another part of her worried. Was there a chance that she’d befriended the kind of people she’d come all this way to avoid...the sort of friends that brought out her old trouble-making self, the person she no longer was...or wanted to be?

“Can we get inside Tanya’s cabin?”

“This doesn’t feel right.”

“Her employee agreement gives—”

“Consent to search,” she finished for him.

“And my search warrant request is just waiting on official approval.”

“Larry and Diane won’t want a fuss made,” she protested, feeling defensive of her friends. “I’ll think of something when I drop by to see her later.”

Jack nodded slowly, then chucked her under her chin. “Thanks, partner.”

“I’m not your partner,” she called to him as he doubled back and headed for the trail behind Tanya’s house.

He turned and the gleam of amusement in his eyes got her heart thumping. “Right. Thanks, boss.” After a long look he turned and disappeared into the forest.

She stared after him far too long, then let out a breath.

Honestly.

Mooning after a cowboy who was all kinds of wrong for her...and dangerous. Had she learned nothing from her mistakes?


CHAPTER SIX (#u48e3b601-4dcf-5d6b-adba-429c9629c524)

DANI HUNG HER hat on a hook, dropped into her office chair and powered up her computer. Exhaustion pressed on her eyelids until they drifted shut. She stretched out her legs, crossed her boots at the ankle and tipped her head back to rest on the cushion as she waited for the old-school dial-up connection.

What a crazy eighteen hours. When she’d pictured her first season as stable manager, she’d never imagined everything would go smoothly, but she hadn’t envisioned an undercover bounty hunter, a suspicious avalanche and friends who might be lying to her.

But haven’t you been deceiving them, too? came the sudden question, echoing in her brain, louder than if she’d actually heard it.

Her lungs expanded as she took in a deep, stress-management breath. It wasn’t the same thing. She hadn’t actually intended to commit a crime.

In a flash, she was twenty-one again, double-parked on a busy street in Oklahoma City, finished with her morning jumping competition, excited to see what mischief her boyfriend, Kevin, would coax her into today. Maybe they’d borrow that ATV they’d been eyeing the past few days and take it for a spin. The owners looked like they were away...

A loud bang on the passenger-side window jolted her out of her thoughts and Kevin’s face appeared in the window.

“Let me in!” he yelled like some wild carjacker, and she immediately unlocked the door and hit the gas pedal when he hollered, “Drive! Fast!”

She thought maybe he’d gotten in a fight. He had a quick temper and she’d seen how easily he got riled. She wouldn’t stick around for some offended mountain boy to stomp out and teach Kevin a few manners.

Her pulse raced as they blew through five intersections before he turned to her with a big grin and opened his duffel bag. At the stacks of cash spilling through the open zipper, she hit the brakes and got honked at by a car that swerved around her.

“Woooo-hooooo!” Kevin whooped. His eyes darted over her shoulder. “That’s fifty Gs. At least. We’re going to take a vacation. I’ll buy you something special, too. Promise.”

Her insides froze. Her outside, too, for that matter, her hands awkward on the steering wheel.

“What did you do?” she asked dumbly, her thoughts tumbling over each other as she resumed driving, her body on a tense sort of autopilot. Sure they liked raising hell, but this...?

She wasn’t that kind of person.

Later on, as she’d agonized over what to do, she’d seen a picture of herself on TV. A wanted woman with a misspelled name—in some ways anonymous. She’d vowed to turn herself in, but was stopped by a call from Kevin. After she’d dropped him off to meet his cousin, a bank employee who’d been Kevin’s accomplice, the two men had been apprehended.

“You won’t do me any good locked up,” he’d said after he explained that he hadn’t clarified the correct spelling of her name or given any details about her. “When I get out, I’ll need a place to go, someone to help me out, and that’s you.”

“I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Well. You won’t have a choice because you’ll owe me.”

Muffled words sounded through the phone, as if he’d put a hand on it, and then his voice returned, sharp as a knife.

“Look, my time’s up. Just remember what I said,” he’d hissed. “You owe me.”

The line went dead before she could speak.

At the gargled shriek of her connecting hard drive, her eyes flew open, rocketing her from her past and into the present that didn’t feel so very different.

A whirring overhead fan stirred the muggy air in the cramped space and didn’t cool her burning cheeks one bit. She needed to distract herself, and checking through her guest preference sheets a final time wouldn’t cut it.

A thirst to know more about Jack took hold. Technically that wouldn’t be procrastinating, since she needed to know about her employees—real or otherwise.

Ahem.

Oh, who cared if she justified her actions? She was curious and no one would know.

She opened her browser, typed his name in and drummed her fingers beside the framed family photos on her desk, waiting...waiting...waiting...for the toddler-sized brain of her ancient hard drive to figure out what she wanted.

Her gaze drifted over her eclectic picture collection. There was her father at age five in black-and-white, pulling a wagon with a droopy beagle in it. Beside him was a photo of her younger sister, Claire, her glowing face bent toward her newborn son, Jonathan, now ten, cradled in her arms. That fiercely tender expression always made a lump rise in Dani’s throat when she looked at it, remembering the miracle of that day.

Next to the photo of her sister was her much younger self atop a brown-and-white pony, her short legs just barely hitting the stirrups, reins gripped tight in her small hands, her huge smile scrunching her nose and eyes so that she was all freckles and teeth. Brownie... She traced her first mount’s nose, nostalgia rising, the sense of loss increasing as her eyes drifted to a last picture: her mother at Port Aransas.

Her mom perched on the rear deck of a fishing boat they’d chartered, her arm slung with casual abandon over Papa’s. Mama was laughing at the camera, at Dani, who’d been making crazy faces to get her to smile while Claire snapped the shot.

Remembering the I-love-you-you-fool look her mom usually wore around Dani, how her mother had always called her “baby girl,” wrung her heart right out. She’d never be anyone’s baby girl again.

She tore her eyes away and studied the monitor, the muscles on either side of her mouth tense as she kept her lips from wobbling, her mother dying again and again and again, as she did every time Dani looked at that photo. She wished she could step into it and have another one of her mama’s lilac-scented hugs that warmed her right through.

Her bangs lifted at the force of her exhale, and as she scanned her computer’s search results, a Forbes headline on the computer caught her eye.

New Heir to Cade Ranch: Jackson Cade.

Puzzled, she swirled her mouse on her Pride and Prejudice pad, brought the cursor over the words and clicked.

A picture of a beautiful vista, Rocky Mountains rising over grassy planes dotted with grazing cattle, appeared. Cade Ranch, the article chronicled, one of the biggest cattle ranches in Colorado, had been visited with tragedy when its owner, Jackson Sr., was killed in a private jet crash, leaving the firstborn of six kids, Jackson Jr., to step in as CEO of this beef corporation at the tender age of twenty-one. The article went on to talk about business facts that made her eyes cross. She closed the tab, wondering.

Why would the owner of a lucrative ranch leave it to track criminals?

She glanced at herself atop Brownie. Lots of reasons drove a person from home. Could Jack’s be one as dark as hers? A sympathy for him rose, which was ridiculous because she didn’t know any actual facts.

Her curiosity still piqued, she resumed her search and another headline snagged her eye.

Jackson Cade Sets Passing Record and Clinches Division One Win.

She clicked on it and a large shot of a teenaged Jackson filled the screen. His jubilant expression as he thrust two fists in the air while being held aloft by screaming teammates made her squint, marveling that this could be the same person as the remote, sober-looking man she’d met.

His unscarred face beamed at her, and the thought that he was almost too perfect-looking then, strange as that sounded, struck her. His scar brought his heavenly good looks back to earth, so that now he resembled a darker angel, a look that drew her much, much more than a Hollywood appearance.

But did her attraction suggest she might be falling into her old habits? She’d always had a weakness for sympathetic bad boys. She’d sworn off relationships, but now another brooding hero had appeared, just like the ones in her favorite gothic romances.

Well. No, thanks.

She’d left tragic love stories safely between the pages where they belonged long ago. She wouldn’t reopen that chapter in her life again.

* * *

JACK SLIPPED ALONG the edge of the clearing behind Tanya’s cabin, sticking to the tree line, out of view. No sense in alarming Smiley’s girlfriend in case she wasn’t involved (doubtful) or warning her if she was (a much more likely scenario).

It’d been clear she was hiding something from the moment Dani mentioned Smiley. He hoped she’d get something more out of Tanya when she visited her friend later. Would she blow his cover?

He moved a sapling aside and stepped over a rotting tree stump. Something about Dani made him instantly reject the idea. She’d given her word, and while he didn’t trust her, his instinct said that meant something to her.

He smiled as he pictured the spirited woman. She looked like the type who’d defend her friends till the end, who saw the good in people until they proved her wrong, which was just like...

His eyes dropped to his tattoo, and Jesse’s wide-open grin flashed through his mind, making his own smile fade. He forced his mind back to the hunt.

When he glimpsed the dirt footpath that led off Tanya’s clearing up to the copper mine, Jack followed it. He stepped lightly over protruding boulders and exposed roots as thick as his arms. Studying the dirt, he noted that the fresh prints lingering in the muddy depressions all pointed to Tanya’s house. A one-way trip. He puzzled over it, doubled back, moved slower still, checking and rechecking the area as he ascended the hill.

The shadows cast by the slanting sun pooled in the depressions, the way he preferred for tracking, illuminating the minute distinctions. A square heel with a pointed toe. Boots. Size twelve or so. A slight notch on the back of the left heel seemed to appear more than once. The stride suggested a man of average height, his build slightly husky given the depth of the impression, his gait uneven, which might mean bowlegs, a limp or just an adjustment for the terrain. There weren’t enough solid prints to be sure.

And where was the return set? Or a partner’s? Smiley could be hiding alone in Tanya’s house and waiting to slip back up to the mine to meet someone.

Everett Ridland?

If so, Jack’d be there to greet them.

In the distance, aspens gleaming in the late-afternoon sun half hid a jagged bluff. Overhead, a mourning dove quieted as he approached. It sped off its perch in a flurry of gray, leaving only the rat-tat-tat of a woodpecker to break up the forest hush.

Suddenly he was ten years old again, creeping through the mountains with his grandfather and Lance on one of their camping trips, committing to memory the slightest disturbances in the wilderness, identifying the passage of elk, black bear and deer, determining edible berries and roots, predicting weather and the direction of his quarry’s travel by the shadows, by the moss, by some kind of sixth sense that seemed bred into his family’s bones. The same knowledge, his grandpa insisted, that’d been passed on to him.

Too bad that sense hadn’t been with him two years ago, the night he’d caught up with Jesse, fresh out of rehab, at a pool hall when his mother insisted he bring his missing brother home. He winced. The painful memory slashed deeper than the knife that’d left a gash that had taken over a hundred stitches to close.

Absently running a hand over the raised scar, he halted at the edge of the woods and stared at the small campfire he’d spied earlier this afternoon. A mound of rocks were in a heap at the bottom of a steep bluff. The tracks ended.

So. A one-way trip by one man. The pile of rocks suggested the avalanche was an accident, but he had to be sure. He scouted the cliff, found his first foothold and began pulling himself up. His fingers scrabbled on scrub brush, roots and depressions as he hauled himself upward, his breath harsh in his throat. At last, he heaved himself over the edge and lay flat on his stomach for a moment, dragging in air.

A cigarette butt swam into view, not more than an inch away from his face. He blinked at it. Processed. Pushed to his knees and studied the distinctive filter. He picked it up and lifted it to his nose. Inhaled. It smelled darker, browner somehow, than other brands. Camel Filters.

And in a breath, he was back at that pool hall, Jesse’s knee banging against the underside of the hardwood table top at which they sat.

He’d looked thinner than ever, Jack recalled, despite their mother’s nonstop cooking all week since his baby brother had been released from rehab. And his eyes had been bloodshot. Telltale signs of another relapse, Jack remembered thinking, resentment swelling as he envisioned more heartbreak ahead. His family had already gone through a lot since Jesse’s addiction began in high school.

When Jesse had said he needed money for reasons he refused to reveal, Jack imagined the worst. He would forever regret how he’d shut his brother down, telling him he didn’t want to hear about anything that involved drugs. He was sick of being his brother’s babysitter.

His mother’s cries echoed in his ear as he sniffed the cigarette butt again. Camel Filters, the same kind he’d seen one of Jesse’s suspected killers smoking. Smiley had been caught with heroin, another connection.

He didn’t recognize the bond jumper in his picture. The thick dark of that long ago night and the men’s hoodies had concealed their appearances enough to make clear identification impossible. Smiley might be here with an accomplice, with Everett Ridland, and either man could be his brother’s assassin.

Adrenaline spiked his blood. Made his head swim.

Could this be this be the chance he’d been desperately seeking to finally make things right?

Jack shimmied back down the bluff, dusted off his pants and spun around at the sound of approaching footsteps. A man in his midthirties, his broad face mostly shrouded by a beard, appeared around a bend in the trail, a leather saddlebag slung over one arm. He pulled up short, doubt crowding his already pinched features so that he looked cross.

“Who the heck are you?”

Jack set his hands on his belt, easing his shirt back slightly, ready to grab his gun from his shoulder holster if needed.

“New wrangler. Jackson Cade.”

The stranger’s eyes skimmed down to Jack’s boots then rose. “Haven’t heard of you.”

“Dani hired me.”

Stroking his beard, the intruder pursed his lips and said nothing for a moment long enough to make some folks uncomfortable.

But Jack used the time to size up the man. From the bright red on his neck and arms, he must spend a lot of time outdoors. His worn boots looked broken in...so a lot of walking. He looked slightly heavy, with a barrel chest that’d be handy in pinning down a foe in a brawl, and short, powerful arms that’d land a good punch if you were stupid enough to stay within reach.

His boots resembled the size and shape of the prints, though Jack would need a closer look to be certain. What was more, he had the height and build to be one of the suspects.

“What’s your business here?” the man growled, with no pretense of welcome or friendliness. Just straight-up menace.

Well, good. Jack liked knowing where he stood.

“What’s yours?”

“I work here,” protested the guy, looking like he didn’t get challenged much.

“Well, so do I.” Jack lowered his head and met the guy’s stare dead on from beneath his brows, enjoying his new acquaintance’s deepening scowl and the way his eyes darted away, small fish scattering before a bigger predator.

Could this be the real person behind the Everett Ridland alias?

“I’m a groundskeeper and I’ve got to clear that out. This, uh, isn’t a safe place.”

Jack followed the man’s point to the pile of rocks left by the avalanche. His doubts about the rough man settled some. Seemed like a legitimate reason to be here. Still. He had to check.

“What’s your name?”

“Sam. Perkins. Not that it’s any of your business,” the groundskeeper huffed. “Now. I like to get on with my work.”

Jack nodded slowly, considering. Why didn’t he have any tools? He couldn’t outright accuse the guy of anything exactly and didn’t want to blow his cover. He’d run the name Sam Perkins by Lance later.

Out of choices, he said, “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

A few hundred yards down the trail, Jack doubled back, creeping through the thick new growth on the forest floor slowly, carefully, his breath a silent pull of air in his teeth. At last, he reached a vantage point, and peered around a tree.

What was Sam really up to?

But to Jack’s surprise, he was gone.


CHAPTER SEVEN (#u48e3b601-4dcf-5d6b-adba-429c9629c524)

AFTER SCOURING EVERY inch of the internet for more on Jack, Dani finally admitted that she’d gone too far when she looked up his astrological sign.





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