Forbidden Trails: A Clearwater County Romance (The Montana Trails Series Book 2)

by Bonnie R. Paulson

  A girl could only mentally multi-task so much before she was overwhelmed.

  And Jareth was more than overwhelming, all by himself.

  ~~~

  The day passed by in a blur after Emma sent Cyan to Stefanie’s room to rest. Cyan didn’t resist. She was exhausted, and the opportunity to think about the turn of events without Jareth so close was more appealing than she could describe.

  Rather than thinking though, she slept for most of the day, emerging in time to help with the cooking for the evening.

  After dinner, everyone trundled off to their sleeping arrangements. When Jareth had said they leave early in the morning, they meant even before the sun would rise.

  Convincing Emma to let Cyan sleep in the living room instead of uprooting Stefanie was harder for Cyan than sleeping out in the cold had been. But finally, Cyan’s mention of leaving with the guys at the same time softened Emma’s resolve.

  The lighting was low because of the early bedtime and premature sunset. In the winter, the sun wanted to hibernate more than the bears and often dipped behind the mountains around four.

  Laying extra blankets out on the floor, Cyan shook her head as she spoke to Jareth. “You could’ve warned me that trying to negotiate with Emma is next to impossible.”

  His soft laugh wasn’t far from her and she turned to face him. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she squeezed the pillow in her arms. “What’s so funny? You could’ve helped me out.”

  For all their talk about staying on the other side of the room, Cyan wasn’t too convinced that the three feet between their beds would keep them apart or that the distance was as far as he could get. But she didn’t fight it. His draw on her was irritatingly magnetic.

  “I could’ve but then I would’ve had to deal with her backlash, and I don’t do that. Not with Emma.” His tone softened and he unbuttoned his flannel shirt, kicking his boots to the foot of his sleeping bag.

  Slipping under the blankets in her clothes – she wasn’t getting into her underwear around the man she’d just met, no matter how much he’d seen of her in a towel – Cyan propped her head on her hand. “Why not?”

  Following her lead, he got into his bag and copied her position, facing her across the small expanse of thick rug. He glanced out the windows, then back at her in the faded lighting spilling from the kitchen lamp around the corner. His voice lowered. “Emma almost died from cancer just a year or so ago. She has a pacemaker, so we try not to upset her too much. She’s everything to Nate and, well, Nate is family – which makes her family.” He grinned. “And she’s Emma, and we love her, you know?”

  Cyan plucked at a piece of the rug. “Yeah, I get it. You guys have such a big family. It’s really nice to see you all get along.”

  He zipped the sleeping bag shut and pointed at the closed side. “I have to close this because you’re not going to be able to keep your hands off me when I start snoring.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  “Oh, wow.” Cyan giggled, but covered her mouth.

  “Does your family get along?” Jareth rolled to his back, but continued watching her.

  “Sure. But I’m the only one. My parents stopped at me, and they don’t have any relatives out this way.” She wanted to know so much about him, but his possible participation in the wolf massacres held her back.

  “What’s your thesis about?” He wasn’t holding back on getting to know her, though. His interest warmed her.

  Why didn’t she just go for it? He’d find out sooner or later and if she told him what she did, his reaction would tell her what she needed to know. Plus, wouldn’t it be great if he was sympathetic to the cause and she could give in to her interest in him? “Actually, my research is on the Gray Wolf.”

  “Psht. Seriously? I’ve only ever known wolves to be terrorists up this way. You guys have a different kind of wolf down in Bozeman?” He scoffed, his sarcasm stinging like the tail of a scorpion.

  Cyan flopped to her back and held back the retort struggling to break free. Barely controlled, she bit off her answer, word by word. “People make them that way.”

  “Are you mad or something? A pack was running around just south of here, down around Colby. I heard a rancher was attacked and they had to shoot the wolf. The guy’s name was MacAllister or something. I think that qualifies them as terrorists. Unless, of course, you’re saying this guy forced the wolf to attack him?” His quiet murmur mounted to just below normal speaking levels, but his derision came across strong.

  “You seriously think this man didn’t do anything to provoke an attack? Maybe the wolf was hungry or injured, maybe it had rabies. Just because one wolf attacked someone doesn’t mean they’re all bad.” She gripped the blankets in her fists, twisting them, trying not to be more hurt than mad. He was turning out to be exactly what she stood against.

  “They’ve attacked more than once before, but even if you take out the human attacks, what about all the livestock and game animals they’ve killed? People rely on hunting to feed their families. For many people, up this way at least, livestock is a necessity for life. You can’t discount their impact there.” He spoke calmly, like he wasn’t debating the very nature of what she stood for.

  “If people could figure out another way to live with wolves instead of killing them, even for just a few years, the predator-prey situation would level off and there would be more game animals to hunt and more prolific resources. Wolves wouldn’t be reduced to hunting livestock. Gray wolves are considered to be endangered and they could be a keystone species, if they were left alone. There are hardly any left compared to what used to be. I’ve already mentioned they’re on the endangered list, which means they’re close to extinction. Doesn’t that bother you?” Cyan couldn’t stop the speed she delivered her speech. Impassioned didn’t even begin to describe how she felt.

  “You sound like a tree hugger.” His soft laugh only infuriated her more.

  “What’s wrong with that? My parents are self-proclaimed hippies. There’s nothing wrong with taking care of our world.” She blinked back frustrated tears. Stupid how she got so involved and worked up about something that wasn’t going to change. Most ranchers and ranch hands in Montana and Idaho believed the wolves should be killed. No ifs, ands, or buts.

  For some reason, finding out Jareth felt the same way as everyone around him stung. She didn’t want to admit that she was starting to like him. Maybe liked him already.

  She was probably still tired and weak from the exposure to the elements. Even after a long nap earlier that day, she might not have recovered all the way. Everything would look different in the morning. Cyan rolled to her other side, facing away from Jareth. She didn’t want to talk to him anymore. Not when everything he said crushed her hopes for him.

  “I don’t get it. Are you mad? I’m just trying to…” He sighed. “Never mind. Goodnight.” Rustling behind her suggested he rolled away, too.

  She could deal with that. She didn’t answer him – instead, she closed her eyes.

  What could she say that would change his mind anyway?

  Nothing. Just like there was nothing he could say to change hers.

  Chapter 5

  Jareth

  A horrible night of little to no sleep combined with listening to Cyan’s breathing and movements did little to brighten Jareth’s mood. How had she gone from discussing something with him to being angry so fast? What had he said?

  He wasn’t exactly fond of activists, but at the same time, he didn’t think the cause was a big enough one to be upset about. Plus, where did she get off living in Montana – the epicenter of hunting and outdoors activities where people lived off the land – and she was against it? Move to New York City and take up sign-picketing. She didn’t have to bother Montanans with her crap.

  His scowl hurt his forehead and cheeks.

  Outside the truck’s door shut. Jareth pushed himself off the floor that had lost its appeal hours ago.

  Slipping from his shoulders and hips, his sl
eeping bag fell to the rug with a whisper. Wrapping it up and cramming it into its bag, Jareth tried not to look at Cyan. At some point in the night, she’d turned onto her back. Even in the minimal light from the kitchen, the blue in her hair stood out against the black.

  As much as he wanted to fight it, – activist or not – she was still attractive as hell. Fortunately for him, he was dropping her off and didn’t have to deal with her confusing presence afterwards.

  He knelt down to rouse her, unwilling to wake her rudely, – even with their small spat between them. He didn’t know her well enough to carry a grudge or even be bothered. But for some reason, he was bothered that they had fought. He was bothered a lot.

  Her lashes fluttered as she woke slowly. “Hmm?”

  “We need to go. Can you be ready in five minutes?” He wanted her to say ‘no, never mind, he didn’t need to take her’. Another part of him, though, – the part that wasn’t logical at three in the morning, wanted her intoxicatingly comforting scent to be the first thing he smelled every morning.

  She nodded, rubbing her eyes and moving to sit up.

  Jareth scrambled back, careful not to bump her.

  He didn’t say anything else, but stood and grabbed his things he’d brought in for the night. Before they left, he had to brush his teeth and wash his face.

  Cyan cleared her throat and spoke softly, giving him pause. “I’m really sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to… well, I didn’t mean to be a brat. I feel pretty strongly about the wolves and I was tired, so, I just kind of let that get to me.” She crossed her arms and rubbed her upper arms as he turned. “No hard feelings?”

  Unable to be mad at a beautiful woman who had no ego whatsoever, Jareth replied, “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t realize you cared so much until it was too late. No hard feelings at all.” He motioned toward the driveway. “I’m going to load up my stuff then visit the restroom. Go ahead and grab your seat in the truck when you’re ready. The guys won’t load up until you’re in.” Or he’d have their butts.

  When he climbed into the truck, he held back his surprise that she chose to sit on the seat bench right next to his spot as driver. Surprised and pleased.

  Too bad they were going to drop her off and she’d be back in school before too long. Cyan would be a hard one to forget about it.

  ~~~

  Cyan leaned across Jareth, her scent distracting in the mid-morning light. “Take this right.”

  The road she pointed to sprang out of nowhere and Jareth slammed on the brakes to take the turn. The Johnsons sitting in the covered bed of the truck cursed, the words muffled, but their shouts audible. Jareth grinned. It wasn’t often he was able to catch them off guard.

  Pavement soon turned to gravel as they climbed up a slight incline through thick woods with little to no forest management. That much virgin forest land probably wouldn’t last long. Many people in Montana logged their land to help pay taxes and ownership costs. Unless, of course, it was state land. Then it’d be cleared sooner or later, to help with better wildlife management.

  Snow topped the trees and a branch unloaded its snow burden just feet in front of them, showering the road and air with sparkling snow particles. The specks of ice landed on the windshield and melted as the warm interior kept the glass heated.

  “Where’s your drive?” Jareth didn’t see a road anywhere or even a sign that there was much traffic down that way.

  She glanced at him. “This is the driveway.”

  It was the driveway? They’d been driving on the road, er, driveway for over a mile and there was no sign of it ending any time soon.

  Just over the rise, the road plateaued and they approached a clearing that was easily half a football across. In the center, a log house – no, mansion – reigned with rock work and a deck that spread from the foundation like a tiered skirt, each level with stairs and handrails. Even in the winter wonderland, with white muting the color of everything, the home glowed with a golden hue that only the highest quality of polished western red cedar could produce.

  High windows showcased a sparkling chandelier inside the main room of the home. A four-foot long white ash sign read Burning Bush in large burned letters above the slider doors at the top of the stairs.

  Nate let out a long, low whistle. “Will you look at that?”

  Cyan shifted in the seat beside Jareth. “Yeah, sorry. Things are a mess right now. My dad didn’t hire anyone to help with the yard and that’s why the driveway is so sloppy.”

  Eyes wide, Jareth studied the dry driveway that started at just the crest of the hill. Dry. Like it was heated. “Sloppy? It’s not sloppy. It’s dry, Cyan.”

  “No, back on the gravel part. Last year it was maintained better, this year…” She blew a puff of air from her eyes and scrunched her nose. “It’s not easy hiring out this way. Not many people to contact for work.” She laughed and half-shrugged. “Plus, he doesn’t feel well half the time.”

  Jareth pulled to a stop at the base of the mountainous stairs.

  An older woman, with waist length silver-streaked blonde hair shimmering around her tie-dyed skirt and peasant shirt, approached the truck from a door on the bottom level. Arm in arm with a man whose hair was equally untamed, she waved, bangles of wood and plastic and metal dancing on her arm as it moved.

  Both of them were barefoot.

  In the snow.

  Chills shivered up and down Jareth’s arms and legs at just the thought of his skin exposed to the chilly weather. Upon closer inspection, Jareth exclaimed, “Hey, that’s Cyndi and Gulliver Burns.”

  Cyan glanced sharply at him as she unhooked her seatbelt. “You know who they are?” Her incredulous tone surprised him.

  “Of course. The investment family. Didn’t they invest in Yahoo before it went global?” Jareth couldn’t keep the shock and awe from his voice. He’d heard they lived in Montana, but he’d always chocked it up to rumor.

  “Hunh, I’m surprised you’ve heard of them.” She shifted forward to the edge of the seat, and waved at her mom and dad.

  Snorting, Jareth nodded shortly. “I know how to read.”

  She was the daughter of money. No wonder she spoke so glibly about replacing a four-wheeler for her friends. Her determination to defend her cause made sense. When a person had money, they had the means to have principles.

  “Yeah, but…” Cyan glanced at Nate who tried to pretend not to be listening and she lowered her voice. “I’m sorry that was rude.”

  “Well, it was nice meeting you, Cyan.” Too bad she was so damn beautiful with tree hugging parents and her weird activism things going on. The money could almost erase all that, except… well, Jareth wasn’t into settling down and he wasn’t into selling himself for anything short of happiness. He wanted what Nate and Emma had – freedom and love.

  He climbed out of the truck to let her out, nodding to the Burns as they waited for Cyan.

  “Thank you so much for your help. I appreciate the hospitality as well, Nate. Please, tell Emma so.” She slid from the cab, avoiding Jareth’s gaze. She joined her parents, their arms encircling her and they made their way inside.

  Jareth returned to his seat, trying to ignore the tug in his chest her absence left.

  Kyle growled, the sound loud in the suddenly quiet truck. “She smelled good.”

  “Gawl, Kyle. That’s your brother’s girl.” Nate ribbed his cousin and patted Jareth’s shoulder. “Let’s go, man. We have to be at Kettleson’s soon.”

  “Nah, she’s not mine, Nate. She belongs to the wolves.” He laughed and shifted into reverse. Jareth couldn’t help one last glance at the Burning Bush home – and he caught Cyan peaking over her shoulder his way, too.

  Too bad. Just too damn bad.

  ~~~

  Kettleson Ranch spread before them like a display for a hunting magazine. The arch above the driveway entrance was decorated with the antlers and skulls of animals long claimed. The hunting retreat was infamous for producing record kills for el
k, deer, and moose on guided hunts. They’d advertised for extra help over the winter, assisting with the holiday guests and for spring maintenance.

  Jareth settled into his bunk. The next morning would be an early day. Kettleson himself had assigned double shifts for the next few weeks, to help with wind damage clean-up throughout the multitude of acres and to make sure all the main predators were managed appropriately.

  Turning over the small card of three rules for employment at Kettleson Ranch, Jareth studied the small typeface.

  Always carry a firearm. If you don’t have one, one will be provided for you.

  No shooting bears, jaguars, deer, elk, moose, or game birds. Animals okay to shoot on sight – wolves, foxes, varmints.

  Put in your time, and you’ll get bonuses. *Bring Gray Wolf pelts and you get bonuses.

  There wasn’t any small print or caveat about alcohol. In fact, two of the men were already wasted in the next bunk over – one half-draped over the top bunk with his feet dangling down. Nate had shaken his head when Jareth had gone to take a drink of his, whispering, “You don’t know if it’s a way to weed out workers. They seem to have a high turnover here.”

  If it wasn’t a rule, Jareth wasn’t interested. He had to keep things interesting, and not-sneaking alcohol just wasn’t interesting. He liked things that were forbidden, things he wasn’t supposed to do or have. A few ranches back, he’d dated the owner’s daughter, until he’d grown bored with her constant distractions and desperate tricks to get him into her bed. The last thing he’d needed was an angry daddy chasing him off with a shotgun.

  No commitment, no problem.

  Alcohol or not, as he lie there trying to fall asleep, what he wouldn’t give for something to clear his mind of Cyan Burns. With her blue streaked black hair and piercing eyes as she teased him with her sassy comments and upturned lips. She was off-limits with rich as sin parents and a cause he’d never be on-board with – which unfortunately made her very, very interesting.