Murdered in Conard County

by Rachel Lee

  He felt culmination overtake her, felt it in the stiffening of her body and the keening cry that escaped her. He held on to the last shred of his self-control until he heard her reach the peak once more.

  Then he jetted into her, into the cosmos. Into a place out of time and mind, feeling as if his entire soul spilled into her.

  * * *

  EVENTUALLY HE CAME BACK to their place in time, aware that he had collapsed on her, that his weight might be uncomfortable. But she was still clinging to his shoulders, and when he tried to roll off she made a small sound of protest, trying to hang on, then let him go.

  “My God,” he whispered.

  “Yeah,” she murmured in reply.

  Perspiration dried quickly in the heat from the fire. He rolled over and draped an arm around her waist. “You okay?”

  “Okay? I don’t think I’ve ever been better.”

  He saw her smile dawn on her puffy lips. He’d kissed her too hard, but at least she wasn’t wincing. That kiss had come from deep within him, expressing a desire he’d been trying to bury since he’d first met her.

  But since she wasn’t complaining, he wasn’t going to apologize. She wiggled around a bit until she faced him and placed her hand on his chest. “We can do this again, right?”

  If he hadn’t spent every ounce of energy he had on her, he’d have laughed and proved it. Instead he returned her smile and said, “Believe it.”

  She closed her eyes, still smiling, and ran her palm over his smooth skin. “All this time and I never dreamed how perfect you are without clothing.”

  “Perfect? You’re missing the scars.”

  “Battle scars,” she retorted. “I have a few, too. You didn’t point them out and I’m blind to yours. Just take the heartfelt compliment. I knew you were in great shape, I just never imagined such a striking package.”

  “I can say the same. I’ve been pining for you since day one.”

  A quiet little laugh escaped her. “We were behaving.”

  “We wanted to take care of our friendship.”

  Her eyes opened wider. “I know. Have we blown it?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so.”

  “Me, either. This feels incredibly right.”

  He thought so, too. Holding her close was no longer ruled by the passion between them. He felt a different kind of warmth growing in him, the sense that an emptiness had been filled, that places perennially cold in his heart were thawing. He gave himself up to the gift that felt perilously close to a peace he had forgotten existed.

  He was not the kind of man who wished for the impossible, but at that moment he wished he could stay in this place forever, with Blaire in his arms, with the warmth in his heart and soul. To cling to feelings he’d lost so long ago, that had become the detritus of war.

  He spent a lot of time not thinking about the war. Sometimes it was like trying to avoid the elephant in the room, but he tried to focus on the present day and the needs of the forest he protected and the people he served. Just taking care of Mother Nature and offering a bandage to a kid who’d cut his finger on a sharp piece of wood, those things made him feel good about himself.

  So he tried not to remember. Still, the demons roared up out of the depths from time to time. They did for Blaire, too, and when it happened they got together whether in town for a trip to the diner or at one of their headquarters. Sometimes they hardly had to speak at all. A simple word or two would convey everything that was necessary.

  They’d been balm for each other for a long time. He actually depended on her and she seemed to depend on him. But this was so very different. This wasn’t dependence of any kind. This was a meeting of two souls with a hunger for something greater.

  She ran her hand over his back, not paying any special attention to the burn scar that wrinkled his back on one side. “Your skin feels so good,” she murmured.

  He stroked her side in return. “So does yours. Plus your curves. Enough to drive a guy crazy. Did that give you any trouble on duty?” He’d seen more than enough men crossing the line with women in their units.

  “Some. Funny thing, though. After infantry training I wasn’t an easy target anymore. Most of them wisely didn’t press the issue.”

  He liked the thought of her scaring the bejesus out of some young fool who thought he was entitled to take what he wanted, to expect some woman to be grateful for his attentions.

  “I was also luckier than some because my superiors weren’t into sexual harassment at all.”

  “Fortunate. I saw some of that stuff. I’m glad it overlooked you.”

  And there they were, returning to the safe—safe?—ground of their military experience. He could have sighed, and it was all his fault.

  Then he found the escape hatch before he totally destroyed the mood. His stomach growled. A giggle escaped Blaire.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I guess the soup didn’t stick. Want me to wander into the kitchen and find something for both of us?”

  * * *

  IN THE END, they slipped into jeans and shirts and went barefoot into the kitchen together. She did have a few things handy, things she didn’t usually buy in any kind of quantity because they were too tempting. But tucked into her freezer, lying flat beneath a load of other food, was a frozen pizza.

  “I can doctor it with canned mushrooms and some fresh bell peppers,” she offered. She’d splurged on a couple of peppers at the store. In fact, as she looked inside her fridge, she saw a whole bunch of splurges she’d hardly been aware of making. Her mood? Or because she had hoped that Gus would stay the night again? The latter, she suspected. Regardless, her usually bare refrigerator was stuffed to the gills tonight.

  “Mind if I look around?”

  She waved him toward the fridge. “Help yourself. And if you like to cook, so much the better.”

  But cooking never became involved. He found her brick of white Vermont cheddar cheese, an unopened package of pepperoni slices that she’d almost forgotten she had and a box of wheat crackers in the cupboard. He wielded her chef’s knife like a pro and soon had a large plate full of sliced, crumbly cheese with crackers and pepperoni. It looked like a professional job.

  “I suppose I should have saved the pepperoni for the pizza,” he said as he carried the plate into the living room and pulled the end table around to hold it. She followed with two cans of cola.

  “That pizza is a desperation measure,” she answered. “I can always get more pepperoni.”

  They curled up on the couch together. She tucked her legs beneath herself.

  These moments were heavenly, she thought as she nibbled on crackers and cheese. Everything felt so right. She only wished it could last. And it might, for the rest of the night.

  But her PTSD was still gnawing at the edges of her mind, trying to warn her of the threat outside, a threat held at bay only by the violent storm.

  Except she couldn’t be certain there was any threat at all. Just leftover tatters of her mind from some seriously bad experience.

  She tried to shake it off and let her head lean against Gus’s shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind at all. Every so often he passed her a cracker holding a bit of cheese or pepperoni. Taking care of her.

  A sudden loud crack of thunder, sounding as if it were right in the room, caused her to start. The bolt of lightning flashed even through the curtains that were closed against the night.

  “Wow,” she murmured. It awoke memories she didn’t want, causing her to leave the comfort of being close to Gus. She rose and began to pace rapidly, wishing the room were a lot bigger.

  “Blaire?”

  She glanced at him, taking in his frown, but she suspected he knew exactly what was going on. That crack of thunder had sounded like weapons fire. Too loud, too close. Her hands suddenly itched to be holding her rifle, her body to be ducking down
behind something until she could locate the threat.

  At least she didn’t try to hide. She hadn’t lost her sense of where she really was, but the sound had awakened deeply ingrained impulses. At least there’d been only one crack of thunder. The grumbling continued, but that’s all it was, grumbling.

  “It was just thunder,” Gus said.

  But she could tell he was reminding himself as much as her. Some things, she thought, would never be normal again. She hated the fireworks displays the town put on, so she stayed out here rather than joining the celebration. At least fireworks were forbidden in the state park and in the national forest.

  Which, of course, didn’t mean she never had to put a stop to them and threaten people with arrest if they didn’t listen. But walking up to a campsite where people were setting off bottle rockets, reminiscent of the sound of mortars, and firecrackers that sounded like gunshots... That was an effort of will on her part.

  “Yeah,” she answered Gus.

  “I’d pace along with you but I think we’d collide.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It jolted me, too. I’d been out about six months when a kid lit a string of fireworks right behind me. Firecrackers, probably. I swung around instantly into a crouch and I really didn’t see him. Didn’t see the fireworks. I hate to think what might have happened if my buddy hadn’t been there to call me back.”

  She nodded, understanding completely. Gradually the tension the bolt had set off in her was easing, and after a couple of more minutes she was able to return to the couch. She sat near him, but not right beside him. She didn’t think she was ready to be touched yet.

  He still held the plate of crackers and cheese that they’d made only a moderate dent on. “Have some more,” he said, holding it toward her. “Eating something usually brings me back to the present. Especially something I never had overseas.”

  The fire had begun to burn down and she considered whether to put another log on it. Mundane thoughts. Safe thoughts. Her taste buds were indeed bringing her back from the cliff edge. Tart cheese, crunchy, slightly bitter wheat crackers. An anchor to the present moment.

  At last she was able to look at Gus and smile. The magic of the evening was beginning to return.

  * * *

  JEFF GAVE UP. He didn’t care if someone spotted him. He popped open a can of paraffin used to heat foods on the trail and lit the flame with his lighter. Then he set it in front of him, holding his freezing hands over it. Within minutes the survival blanket caught some of the flame’s heat and began to reflect it back toward his face.

  Thank God. He’d begun to think his nose would fall off from frostbite, although he was sure it wasn’t that cold. Having to sit out here like this was pure misery, and he wondered that he hadn’t started shivering. Although his insulated rain jacket was probably capturing his body heat as effectively as it kept the rain out.

  As soon as his fingers felt a little better, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket. They were a little crushed, but still smokable, and damn he needed a smoke.

  The misery of the night was beginning to drive him past moral considerations. He hated his friends even more now, but step by step he made up his mind to get Blaire Afton out of the way so he never needed to do this again.

  One shot. He was pretty good at several hundred yards. Maybe more. That other ranger wouldn’t be able to find him fast enough if he picked his spot and knew all the places for concealment or quick escape. First thing in the morning, he promised himself. Then he was going to shoot Blaire in the same way he would shoot a game animal.

  After that, having bought a few days, he was going to move to Timbuktu or some other faraway place so that Will and Karl would leave him alone. Forever. He just wanted to be left alone forever. Dinah and his baby would be better off without him. Yeah, he could run as far as he wanted.

  And he didn’t care if it was called running because, damn it, he needed to run for his life. He no longer trusted those guys not to kill him anyway. They weren’t going to let him go simply because he’d done what he’d been told to do.

  Then another thought crept into his brain. Why shoot Blaire if it wasn’t going to save his own life?

  Double damn, he thought. Why had he needed to think of that? Because, he reminded himself, killing her would give him time to make plans and extricate himself. He couldn’t just march out of here tomorrow and be on a plane by midnight. Nothing was that easy, even without thinking of his family.

  He started making a mental list as he continued to warm his hands. Passport. Cash. Arranging for his bank and credit cards to accept charges from overseas. Clothes. He needed to take at least some clothing with him. He wasn’t rich like the other two and couldn’t be needlessly wasteful.

  But he did have enough to get away to some cheaper place, and enough to sustain him until he could find some kind of work. He didn’t mind getting his hands dirty, he was strong and healthy, and educated. He ought to be able to find something somewhere.

  Regardless, he figured if he left the country, Will and Karl would lose all interest in him. He wouldn’t be around to make them nervous, or to annoy them. Out of sight, out of mind would most likely apply because he didn’t think either one of them would want to waste time tracking him down in some other country.

  Yeah. Kill the woman and hightail it. The plan would work. He just needed to take care the other ranger couldn’t find him first. Hell, he ought to shoot the man, as well. Will had suggested it. It would certainly buy him time to leave this park behind, to get out of the mountains.

  Another thing to hash over in his mind as he sat there in misery. He hardly even noticed that the storm rolled out after midnight. All that did was make the night colder.

  Damn, his life sucked.

  Chapter Eleven

  Blaire and Gus made their way up to her loft bedroom instead of feeding the fire on the stone hearth. Heat rose and it had filled the loft, which captured it. Blaire’s predecessor had used the room farthest back in this cabin for a bedroom, but it hadn’t taken long for Blaire to figure out the loft stayed warmer on frigid winter nights. She burned less fuel and didn’t need to use space heaters. She now used the back room for storage.

  Her successor would probably change everything around, a thought that occasionally amused her. As it was, she had a tidy space, big enough for a queen bed, a small chest of drawers, a night table, a chair and a lamp. Inconvenient as far as needing a bathroom, but it was a small price to pay.

  She had to warn Gus to watch out for his head, though. The loft ceiling nearly scraped her head.

  “This is cozy,” he remarked. The light had several settings and she had turned it on low so he was cast in a golden glow.

  “Cozy is a pleasant word for tiny,” she answered. “But I like it.”

  “I can see why. Nice and warm, too.”

  Three or four minutes later they were both tucked under her comforter, naked and locked in tight embrace.

  This time Gus used his mouth and tongue to explore her, at one point disappearing beneath the covers to kiss and lick her sweet center until she thought she was going to lose her mind. When she was sure she couldn’t stand it anymore, she turned the tables, rising over him to discover his defined muscles, the hollows between them and finally the silky skin of his erection. It jumped at her first touch, and she felt an incredible sense of power and pleasure, unlike anything she’d ever felt.

  But he was doing a lot of that to her, giving her new sensations and a new appreciation of sex. This was in no way the mundane experience she’d had in the past. This was waking her to an entirely new view of being a woman.

  She enjoyed his every moan and shudder as her tongue tried to give him the same pleasures he had shared with her earlier. Finally his hands caught her shoulders and pulled her up. Straddling his hips, she took
him inside her, then rested on him, feeling as if they truly became one.

  Their hips, welded together, moved together, and the rising tide of passion swept her up until it carried her away almost violently. They reached the peak together, both of them crying out simultaneously.

  Then, feeling as if she floated on the softest cloud, Blaire closed her eyes and drifted away.

  * * *

  LYING LIKE SPOONS beneath the covers, Gus cradled her from behind, holding her intimately. She felt his warm breath against the back of her ear, and even as sleep tried to tug at her, she spoke.

  “That was heaven.”

  “If that was heaven, sign me up.” Then he gave a whispery laugh. “I’m sure it was better.”

  She smiled into the dark in response. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good.”

  “Me, either.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, then settled back again. Their heads shared the same pillow and she could feel his every move. “I hate to be the practical one, but the storm has passed and if you want to ride out in the morning...”

  She sighed. “We need to sleep. I know. I’ve been fighting it off because I don’t want to miss a minute of this.”

  “This won’t be the last minute,” he answered. “Unless you tell me to take a hike, I plan on being right here with you tomorrow night.”

  She hesitated. “What about Holly?”

  “She always wanted to replace me.”

  Blaire gasped. “Seriously?”

  He chuckled. “Not really. But she enjoys ruling the roost sometimes. Which is the only reason I can ever take a vacation or get to town. Holly is the best, but she’s told me more than once that she likes being able to point at me when someone’s unhappy.”

  “Ooh, not so nice.” She was teasing and she could tell he knew it when he laughed.

  “She has her moments, all right.” She felt him pull her a little closer. “Sleep,” he said. “It’s going to be a long day in the saddle.”