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

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Forbidden Trails: A Clearwater County Romance (The Montana Trails Series Book 2) Page 5

by Bonnie R. Paulson


  Dang it, why couldn’t the rules be no alcohol or no gambling or something easier to attain?

  Chapter 6

  Cyan

  Cyan adjusted her pack with a slight hop to get it higher on her shoulders and off the small of her back. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Sherri and Rachiah still followed.

  Of course her girls were right behind her. They never let her down and she couldn’t be more grateful. Ever since elementary school, they’d been the threesome to watch. Cyan had always been the ringleader and got them in trouble in more ways than one. They were a successful group of women who knew what they wanted and had no problem getting it.

  Except for love. All three of them lacked something in the love department – mostly a cowboy to call their own.

  For some reason, she hadn’t been able to discuss her attraction to Jareth or the fact that he worked for Kettleson, nor the… okay, anything about him. She hadn’t even mentioned the passel of hot cousins, or what they were up to, other than what was mentioned on the phone.

  They’d arrived at her house a few days ago. When they’d cornered her in her bedroom about the brothers who had helped her, she’d brushed off the mysteriousness of her phone conversation with them as fatigue and weakness from her night-long ordeal.

  However, the honest truth was, she couldn’t get that man out of her thoughts and she didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that she most likely would never see him again. He’d responded kind of strange when he’d found out who her parents were. Did she want to see him again? He didn’t care about wolves at all. Not that that was the end-all-be-all to a relationship, maybe to their relationship. If he couldn’t see how important an endangered species was – would he see anything as valuable?

  The weather had relented enough to at least stop dumping snow on them. Camping in the winter was one of the singular most peaceful things possible. Fewer animals called at night and the snow was easy to manipulate into a dwelling or comfortable place to set up a bed.

  “How much longer are we going to hike?” Sherri’s voice was an octave lower than Rachiah’s, and she used it effectively to carry across the landscape of snow, ice, and forest debris.

  “It’s just up this way.” Cyan didn’t tell them that they were just along the western border of Kettleson land either. She would, when they were settled and it’d be too much work to pack up. She wasn’t trying to be dishonest. She just didn’t want them to give up when she was so close to figuring out what was happening to the wolf population up this way.

  A small clearing opened before them, revealing a creek that spanned no more than eight inches across but that swept along with surprising speed and depth. They hopped over the water and claimed the spot that campers had before made their temporary home. A well-maintained fire pit sat blackened and cold in the center of the clearing. Trees encircling the campsite had been trimmed up to five feet for rope to hold tarps and clothes lines.

  Rachiah and Sherri spread out from Cyan and each claimed a different spot for their single-man tents. “I’m surprised your parents allow campers on their land, Cy, isn’t that like against their hippy ways?”

  Cyan scratched her knee where her wool socks stopped. “Dad’s fibromyalgia is terrible and I doubt he even knows anyone comes out here.” Not to mention, it was most likely a spot that hunters came to. The land border was hard to distinguish so close to the neighboring section.

  “Yeah, your dad did seem more on edge. Is he still smoking pot?” Rachiah sipped from her water bottle as she watched Cyan shift on the snow-covered ground.

  “I’m not sure. Mom gave him a tincture when I got home, and she had some oatmeal cookies for him that she refused to let me have, so maybe she’s just incorporating it differently for him? I’m not sure.”

  “Well, I loved the soy burgers we had last night. Your dad really seemed to enjoy them, too.” Sherri stood and twisted to the side, stretching her arms above her head. “Wow, I haven’t camped in November in forever. Can you believe we’re almost done with our Master’s programs, Cy?”

  Rachiah laughed, twisting the lid closed on her bottle. “Thank Heavens. Seriously, I’m getting sick of hearing about wolves and bugs. There’s nothing interesting about either, ladies. Nothing.” She grimaced, tossing her long braid behind her. “You’re actually both studying things that give normal women nightmares.”

  “True, but normal women don’t camp in winter either or fight for the rights of their people at political rallies.” Cyan eyed Rachiah whose blush becomingly pinked her copper cheeks further. She chuckled, grateful for the turn in topic. Talking about her dad was hard when there wasn’t much medicinal evidence about fibromyalgia and even as rich as he was, he didn’t have access to any effective treatments that worked.

  “I brought soybean burgers for dinner for you, Sherri, since you loved them so much last night. And I hope you brought the sirloin burgers, Rach. Did you guys grab the sprouts Mom laid out for us?” Cyan unhooked her waist strap and set her pack on the ground. They each carried portions of the meals they would all eat together. That way, if one bag was lost or damaged, not all the food would be gone.

  “The sprouts? No. Your dad’s moonshine? You bet.” Rachiah held an unlabeled bottle of dark amber liquid. She grinned, wiggling her dark eyebrows.

  Cyan laughed, yanking out a bag of elk jerky and a packet of pre-cooked chicken patties. “Oh, good call. I didn’t even think about that.” She honestly hated that her friend liked to drink as much as she did. Once or twice, Cyan had broached the subject of possibly drinking too much and Rachiah had brushed it off. Sherri told Cyan to back off. The threesome had been together since they were kids. So Cyan backed off. What kind of a friend would push something that probably wasn’t true?

  “Wait, you didn’t sneak meat into your parents’ place again, Cyan! You’re going to get in trouble.” Sherri eyed the meat products with aversion.

  Rolling her eyes, Rachiah grabbed the contraband out of Sherri’s reach. “Thank goodness she did. I don’t think I can survive another tofu casserole or soymilk yogurt dish.” She sobered. “But seriously, when are you going to tell your parents you eat meat?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to them when I’m ready.” Cyan avoided their gazes. She’d never be honest with her parents about who she was really. No need to disappoint them for no reason. Her meat kick might not last. Although, if she was at least honest with herself, that wasn’t likely. She enjoyed the taste of meatloaf and chicken and turkey and ham. And bacon.

  She shrugged off their concerned glances, and pointed a tent stake at the fire pit. “Let’s make camp and then we can look for tracks in the morning. I think there’s a den just up north of here.” Just off the Kettleson Ranch.

  She kept the last part to herself.

  ~~~

  The fire didn’t need to be large to give off ample heat. Using a long stick, Cyan pulled the tinfoil wrapped burgers from the coals on the outer edge of the modest fire.

  Dark had set not too long ago and their fire was welcome in the cloud covered night. The stream gurgled, a welcome soundtrack to their cozy camp spot.

  “I brought ketchup packets, but I forgot mustard. Did any of you happen to grab any?” Sherri leaned across the rocks they used as seats with her plate outstretched. Cyan worked with the stick, grabbing the top of the aluminum packet with a large “S” drawn on it. She snatched it from the fire onto Sherri’s plate.

  Sherri ooh’d and aahed, then leaned back to sit upright. “Oh, nicely done, thanks.”

  “I grabbed mustard. Glad you got the ketchup. Cyan brought the onions and lettuce so it should be a good, meatless meal for you.” Rachiah sighed, motioning back toward Cyan’s home. “You know, I love you guys, but that vegan crap gets old. Woman was not made to survive on plants alone. You know I need red meat. Meat that bleeds. Meat that has babies.” She stretched out her plate and captured the tossed packet, too. “Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate food in all its glory. I’m
just getting sick of eating things like sprouts when we come up here. I need real food.” She thrust her jaw to the side. “Aren’t your parents leaving for Hawaii soon? I’m glad you finally joined the meat side, Cy, I can’t imagine going as long as you have without ever having tried Mahi Mahi.”

  Sherri sighed. “’Chiah, it’s not like I don’t understand. I love the taste of meat, too. I just can’t eat anything that’s moved. I don’t know why. Maybe ‘cause I’ve dissected everything there is and I’ll never be able to look at mollusks the same. Or pigs. Or sheep. Or anything.”

  Cyan unwrapped her burger and squeezed the condiments from the packet to the bun. She didn’t respond. They knew she wasn’t vegan unless she was at home with her parents, and going into it every time they were together was something they did.

  But she couldn’t this time. She kept running over the conversation with Jareth, he didn’t seem to understand the importance of an endangered species being hunted. His lack of empathy bothered her.

  How would he react to her parents and their way of life? Hunting was taboo in her family. Killing anything was taboo. Well, anything but tofu. Even her dad couldn’t make himself eat the rubbery stuff. What would they say when they found out about her obsession with meat? What would they do?

  Jareth had looked at her weird when she’d said something about being vegetarian. Would he judge her parents harshly? He’d never fit into her life.

  So why did she keep thinking about him?

  “Hey, what’s with you? You haven’t said much all day.” Sherri passed a knife to Rachiah but spoke to Cyan. “You’re acting like you did when Bobby Borgenson tried to kiss you at the prom.”

  Rachiah froze then stared at Cyan, her eyes wide. “Did one of those guys try kissing you?”

  “Guys? What guys? What are you talking about?” Cyan lifted her burger and chomped a huge bite to occupy her mouth. If it was full, she couldn’t comment or make a fool out of herself.

  “Oh. My. Goodness. Are you serious, right now?” Sherri narrowed her eyes and passed the knife to cut the burgers in half. “You already told us you were saved by those brothers. We’re not stupid. You’ve been half-in and half-out of lala land since we got to your place. Now spill.”

  She couldn’t. She didn’t know what to say. For once, her friends’ overly astute observational skills were more annoying than anything.

  A shout from Kettleson land drew their attention. Cyan paused her chewing to hear better.

  “What was that?” Sherri whispered, slowly eating her burger, but watching the dark tree line to the west.

  “Probably just ranch hands or something.” Cyan took a bite and focused on the fire.

  Rachiah backhanded Cyan’s thigh. “What do you mean ranch hands or something? Where are we? Did you take us to Kettleson’s place again?”

  “No, no, nothing like that.” Cyan thought about it, scrunching her lips. “Well, wait, I guess it’s kind of like that. We’re not on his land but his property line is about twenty yards that way.” Trying to downplay might help, but she doubted it. She pointed in the direction of the noise and continued chewing. There would be a backlash for this one, she was certain of it.

  “Dang it, Cyan, why would you do that? You know we’re banned from his land. Hell, you’re at the top of his list. We’re going to get arrested for trespassing. Or shot. I just know it.” Sherri angrily bit into her burger again, avoiding Cyan’s gaze by staring at the orange sparkles on the snow beside the fire.

  Another shout, closer this time, and something crashing through the underbrush brought the women to their feet. After a moment of silence, they sank back down to sit on the large rocks they’d claimed as seats.

  “We’re in so much trouble. So much trouble.” Sherri murmured under her breath. She shifted on her rock, as if waiting for Kettleson himself to burst from the trees to shoot them.

  Cyan reached out and swatted her arm. “Shhh. We are not. We haven’t done anything wrong. It’s not like we’re going to really get shot, Sherri. We’re not trespassing and —”

  A gun shot resounded through darkened woods.

  The girls jumped at the startling loudness of the shot. It was so close. They stood, moving closer together.

  The sound of another shot mingled with yells and shouts and crashing.

  Burning burst across Cyan’s shoulder. Pressure pushed her backwards, dropping her to her butt in the snow. She shook her head and reached out her hand to push up, but instead she couldn’t move. Sinking to her back, she lay down. She didn’t care about the freezing snow against her hair, or the warmth soaking her shoulder. She stared up into the dark, starless sky. Everything seemed to whoosh around her as screaming filled the air.

  What the hell?

  Chapter 7

  Jareth

  Jareth was going to get the first wolf pelt and get that huge bonus Kettleson kept ranting about. A thousand dollars was a lot of money.

  The gun-on-loan wasn’t much. Whoever had used it previously hadn’t kept it clean. Jareth had spent the majority of his free time polishing it and smoothing the barrel.

  And thinking of Cyan. Don’t forget that.

  After too many thoughts about Cyan and not enough air after dinner, he’d finally gotten off his butt for a walk.

  Then he saw it.

  A Gray wolf.

  The grayish brown of its hide was prominent against the silvery light of the moon on the snow. All the other ranch hands had gone inside for the night, but Jareth couldn’t stop thinking of Cyan, so he avoided the company of others.

  Why did she have to have blue in her hair? It wasn’t like they lived in a big city or something. She wouldn’t have a problem standing out in a crowd even without the blue.

  Women were so confusing.

  Before following the wolf that had disappeared into the trees, he double checked to make sure his radio was attached to his holster and that his gun was loaded. Carefully, he followed the wolf’s retreating back into the trees. Oh, no, you’re not getting away that easy. I’m coming for you.

  Part of him wanted that money, and another part of him wanted to prove that Cyan’s concern about the wolves didn’t have an influence on him. He didn’t need to have someone’s cause ruling his life.

  Kettleson’s land covered almost thirty-thousand acres. Hopefully the wolf would let Jareth shoot it before he had to stumble after it too far. What would Cyan do to pull the wolf to her? Call to it? Were wolves smart enough to come when they were called? Why did he care what Cyan would do? She would probably pet them and feed them and braid daisies into their fur and dance around them in the moonlight.

  Okay, enough. He might need to go back to the bunk and have something to drink. Nothing else was getting that blue-eyed temptress off his mind.

  He brandished the gun out to his side, like an extension of his hand and used his free hand to push the branches out of his face. He hadn’t worn gloves and that was going to cost him some skin as the clinging boughs scraped him in resistance.

  The muzzle caught on a branch and he jerked the weapon, accidentally discharging the temperamental gun. “Come on!” He shouted, his words oddly echoing back at him. He stamped further into the woods, further, further, unwilling to admit defeat.

  The dark of the night encompassed him and he pushed on.

  Minutes passed, the only sound his footsteps and heavy breathing. He stopped, half-turning to return to the bunkhouse. What was he doing? The wolf was long gone. He didn’t have any other reason to be out there.

  A crash ahead of him in the brush refocused him. The wolf! A thousand dollars taunted him. Yes, he could do it. He turned back towards the sound and lengthened his stride as much as he could. The uneven terrain was dotted with fallen trees and downed branches mixing with thick piles of snow.

  In the dim shadows, he didn’t see a log hiding under a clump of snow and he fell forward. He adjusted his hold on the gun and paused where he landed on his knees. “I’m going to get you!” He hollered
again. No wonder the wolf was gone. Jareth rubbed his face. He was like a crazy man. Little surprise there was the stereotype of crazy hunters. He was acting like one, and he hadn’t even been engaged in trailing the wolf that long.

  A twig snapped. Jareth spun to the side, still on his knees. He crouched, hunching his shoulders and aimed at the movement of gray he spotted through the trees.

  He shot. And shot again. Yelling as he shot, “Just get out here. I need you.” And he shot again and again.

  Four times.

  He waited for the wolf to limp into view. Falling quiet, the surrounding area seemed to reset after the shots.

  The sound of women screaming broke through his fog. Wait a minute, didn’t dogs yelp? Had he hit it and it went off somewhere else to die? Guilt filled him. Oh man, he hadn’t wanted to injure the thing, he wanted to kill it, not maim it.

  He followed the screams and wailing through a thick collection of bushes and bull pines.

  A fire lit a small clearing and three women huddled on the other side of its dying light. Two crouched over the fallen form of the third screaming, their hands waving to enunciate their yells.

  “Hey!” He stepped forward, suspicion freezing inside his chest. He didn’t want to admit what might have happened. The girl on the ground had on a gray sweatshirt and a gray coat. Too much gray. Please, don’t let it be so. “Did you see a wolf run through here?”

  The women turned on him, snarling through their tears. A shock of blue amidst black snapped through a gap between them.

  Jareth blinked hard. “Wait, is that… Cyan? Cyan? Is she okay?” He staggered to her side, falling beside her waist and closing his eyes to get more focused. Please, please, don’t let her…

 

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