Count on a Cowboy (Sons of Chance Book 7)

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond

  That made a very good case for getting out into nature on a regular basis, and she decided to do that. After all, she now lived in the middle of God’s country. She could understand why Wyatt had chosen the profession he had, because seeing natural beauty on a constant basis could give a person perspective. Too bad he hadn’t gained a little more of it.

  Now that she’d challenged his assumptions, he’d probably pack up his truck and leave the area for good. If she felt dismal knowing that would be the outcome, she’d have to get over it. Maybe she’d get over it by taking more hikes. Obviously it wasn’t that complicated, since she was doing fine all by herself this morning.

  As she congratulated herself on her excellent plan of walking back to the road and showing some initiative and independence, she came to a fork in the trail. For one uneasy moment she stood there, undecided. The rocks and trees along each path looked about the same.

  Finally she shrugged and chose the path on her left. Both of them headed downhill, and if she didn’t come out right where the truck was parked, so what? All she needed to find was the road that would take her to the sacred site, and eventually, the ranch.

  Wyatt woke up with a vague feeling that something was wrong. He lay there with his eyes closed and quickly remembered why he’d feel that way. Olivia, who had seemed so supportive at first, had let him know last night she didn’t approve of how he was handling things with Jack.

  The tent was very quiet, so when he turned to find she wasn’t lying next to him, he wasn’t surprised. Her shoes were gone, but a neon-green bit of cloth lay on the sleeping bag and he picked it up. She’d put that in her hair last night after they’d had such great sex in here.

  His gut twisted. He wished they’d been able to have the kind of night he’d been hoping for, with a lot more sex and certainly without a discussion about Jack. And now… now he didn’t know where they were. Nowhere, probably.

  He didn’t dare dwell on that thought too long or he’d discover just how into her he was. Technically they hadn’t known each other long enough for him to be hooked on her. Then he thought about that kiss while they stood on the sacred site. He’d never had that kind of reaction to a woman before, where he’d had visions of a future with her flash before his eyes.

  They should probably talk some more. He’d bet she could use a cup of coffee. Yeah, that was the way to go. Breakfast, coffee, the peaceful sounds of the forest first thing in the morning — that would bring them closer together.

  Feeling more positive, he grabbed his hiking boots from the corner of the tent, stuck her hair doodad in his pocket, and crawled out. A quick scan of the area as he sat down to put on his boots told him she wasn’t there, but that didn’t worry him. She’d probably found a private place to pee.

  After he took care of that little matter himself, he walked back into camp expecting she’d be there by now. When she wasn’t, he called her name. No answer. He called again, louder this time. Still no answer.

  For the first time since discovering she wasn’t beside him in the tent, he became concerned. He searched the campsite more thoroughly, and finally discovered the note she’d left on a scrap of cardboard. Shit. She had a head-start, but he was pretty damned fast when he needed to be.

  Leaving everything except for his cell phone, he loped down the trail. A couple of times he paused to call out for her, but when there was no answer, he wondered if she even would answer if she heard him. Maybe not. He kept going and made it to the truck in twenty minutes.

  Still no sign of her. Her purse and cell phone were in the truck where she’d left them, but then they would be. She didn’t have keys and wouldn’t have broken in to get those things.

  Fighting panic, he unlocked the truck and started it up. She wasn’t in shape for a long walk, but adrenaline could make a difference. He drove back the way they’d come, constantly scanning the road for her.

  When he reached the sacred site and still didn’t see her, the cold sweat of anxiety trickled down his spine. This was not good. Not good at all.

  And he wasn’t going to waste any more time. He got out his cell and called the ranch, thinking he’d get either Mary Lou or Sarah. Instead he got — Murphy’s Law — Jack.

  He wasn’t sure why Jack was answering the ranch phone early in the morning when he had his own house on the property where he lived with his wife and that baby he didn’t want Wyatt touching. But no matter. This was an emergency, and he had a feeling Jack was good at handling those, in spite of being an asshole.

  “It’s Wyatt,” he said. “Is Olivia there?”

  “Here? I thought she was with you.”

  “We had a… disagreement last night and I think she must have decided to walk back.”

  “I’ll check.” Jack was swearing as he got off the phone.

  Sarah picked it up. “Wyatt? What’s going on?”

  “I think Olivia decided to walk back to the ranch.”

  “What on earth would have made her decide to — hold on. Jack’s here.” She came back in a second. “He says she’s not in the house and her Jeep is still parked where she left it. He’s driving out there. Where should he meet you?”

  “I’m at the sacred site, but I’m going back to the trail head and make sure I didn’t miss her somewhere between here and there. Tell Jack to keep going beyond the site about two miles and look for my truck. I’ll stay there and wait for him.”

  “Got it. And Wyatt?”

  “Yeah?” He braced himself for whatever blame she might heap on his head.

  “Don’t worry, son. You two will find her.”

  “Thanks, Sarah.” He wasn’t used to quiet confidence in a mother figure. He was used to blame and panic. Rafe had done a disappearing act when they were about ten, and his mom had gone into meltdown mode.

  Yeah, he envied Jack having Sarah as a steadying influence most of his life, but Olivia’s comments had stuck with him. He knew what total rejection felt like. He’d just experienced it from his half-brother. How much worse would it be if it was your mother, and you were only two?

  Turning the truck around, he started back down the road, going slower, checking the roadside in case she’d gone into the trees to rest, or… no, he wouldn’t start imagining all the terrible things that could happen to her alone out here. That wouldn’t help.

  No matter how thoroughly he searched both sides of the road as he crept back down the road, he saw nothing but rabbits, some quail, and back in the trees, a lone buck. What color had her blouse been? Oh, yeah, the same green as the scrunchie in his pocket. It was a color that could blend with the landscape, especially if she’d fallen down and… once again he pulled his thoughts away from disaster.

  Because the plain fact was he couldn’t lose her. Not physically, and not emotionally, either. She’d only tried to help last night, and he’d been a jerk who didn’t realize what an incredible woman she was. She probably wanted to knock his and Jack’s heads together, and he had to admit they deserved it.

  But in order for her to knock their heads together, they had to find her. And by God, they would. He’d thought he never wanted to speak to Jack again, and here he was filled with relief and gratitude that his half-brother was coming to the rescue.

  Olivia had done some bonehead things in her life, but this one had to be the worst. She’d hiked for well over an hour, although she couldn’t be sure because she had no watch. And she had no idea where she was.

  Instead of continuing down, the trail she’d chosen ran along the side of the hillside. Once she realized her mistake, she’d turned around and started back only to find another fork she hadn’t noticed before. Once again, she’d picked wrong.

  She’d crossed a stream, thinking she was finally headed right because she remembered she and Wyatt had crossed two streams. The trail ended in a bluff that dropped thirty feet. She gazed out across the canopy of trees and searched in vain for the road. If it was there, she couldn’t see it from where she stood.

  After wandering aroun
d on different trails, she’d finally had to admit that she was truly lost. And what did she, a girl from Pittsburgh, know about getting lost in the woods? Somewhere she’d read that you were supposed to signal searchers with something like a mirror or smoke.

  She had no mirror and no matches. No doubt Wyatt had all that stuff, but she’d elected, in her infinite wisdom, to set out on her own and leave her wilderness guide. But he was looking for her. She never doubted that for a second.

  The only tool she had available was her voice, so she sat down on the bluff and started shouting for help. That lasted for about thirty seconds before her throat hurt. All she’d accomplished was putting a major scare into the little brown birds watching her from a nearby branch.

  Besides, if Wyatt was searching, wouldn’t he be calling for her? Therefore, if she couldn’t hear him, he couldn’t hear her. Then she remembered something else she’d heard about getting lost. Stay put and let the searchers come to you.

  She could do that. She was dead tired, thirsty, and hungry. If she sat here and listened for Wyatt calling her name, then she could respond when she heard him. Although she’d wanted to get as far away from him as possible this morning, she would be very glad to see him now.

  She stretched out on the rock in the sunshine. With her head cradled on her arm, she closed her eyes. Just one short nap was all she needed. Then she’d be fresh and ready to respond to rescuers. In seconds she’d dozed off.

  Wyatt parked the truck at the trail head and got out. He wanted to start back up the trail to search some more, but he’d told Jack he’d wait for him. So he paced beside the truck and tried to estimate how long it would take Jack to get there.

  No matter how long it took, waiting for Jack was the bright thing to do. Jack had grown up here and knew the trails, plus two searchers were better than one. If they didn’t find her in the next couple of hours, Wyatt was prepared to call in Search and Rescue.

  But no need to get the authorities involved if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Wyatt knew instinctively that Jack would rather handle something like this internally if at all possible. Olivia hadn’t been missing long… Missing. What a stomach-turning, sweat-inducing concept. He wanted her back. In every sense of the word.

  About two centuries went by before Wyatt saw a truck coming toward him. Because the road was still slightly muddy, the truck stirred up no dust. This time Jack drove an ordinary ranch truck, which was a lot less imposing than the cherry red semi.

  When Jack parked the truck and climbed out, he looked every inch the cowboy in his Stetson, long-sleeved shirt, and jeans. Every inch except the last few, which included his feet. He had on deep-tread hiking boots.

  Apparently he caught Wyatt staring. “You’re not the only one allowed to wear them, you know.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t think—”

  “That I’d tarnish my cowboy image?” Jack’s dark eyes were unreadable, neither hostile nor friendly. “My other boots are for riding and dancing, not for tramping through the forest.” He walked around the front of the truck and opened the passenger door. “End of the line, pooch. Time to get to work.”

  No way. Wyatt came to the passenger side in time to watch Jack lift Rodney Dangerfield to the ground and snap a leash on the dog’s collar. But the leash wasn’t Rodney’s only accessory. He was also wearing a bright orange life vest, a very snug life vest. The bottom of it scraped the ground.

  “My God. He looks like… like…”

  “A pig in a blanket? That’s what I said, but Mom wanted him on the job and he has to wear his vest, even if it’s a tad small, in case we hit water.”

  Rodney gazed up at Wyatt with his typical woebegone expression which clearly said See what I have to put up with? But his white-tipped tail wagged as if he’d accepted his lot.

  Wyatt crouched down to scratch behind the dog’s ears. “Thanks, Rod. Glad you’re here.”

  “Now for the million-dollar question,” Jack said. “Do you have anything of Olivia’s we can give him to sniff?”

  “Yeah, I do.” Wyatt stood and fished in his pocket.

  “I warn you, if you pull a pair of panties out of there, I might have to deck you on general principles.”

  “You’d probably enjoy the excuse, but no such luck.” He took out the green scrunchie. “She left this in the tent.”

  “Good. That should work. Got water? I forgot to bring any.”

  “Good thought. She’ll be parched after hiking around with no water. Let me get my spare canteen.” Wyatt sprinted back to his camper, grabbed the canteen, and slung the strap over his shoulder.

  “Okay, now let Rodney sniff that hair gizmo.”

  Wyatt hunkered down next to Rodney again. “Here you go, Rod. Find Olivia. Find her for us.”

  The basset made snuffling sounds as he inspected the scrunchie.

  “That should do it,” Jack said. “Okay, Rodney. Earn your keep.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Wyatt stuffed the scrunchie back in his pocket in case they needed it later to refresh Rodney’s memory. Nose to the ground, Rodney started toward the trail. That wasn’t surprising. Olivia had walked that way yesterday afternoon.

  As they started up the trail, Wyatt decided to speak up. “I’ve never worked with a tracking dog before, but Olivia’s scent could lead us to the camp because she walked up that way last night. That would be a waste of time because she’s not there now.”

  “I’m no expert, but I think he’ll follow her old scent until he picks up something fresher.” Jack allowed Rodney to lead the way. “At that stage we’ll know we’re tracking where she went more recently.”

  “Okay. That’s logical.” Concerns eased, Wyatt followed behind Jack. “By the way, didn’t expect you to answer the phone at the house this morning.”

  “That’s because you don’t know Sarah well enough yet.”

  “I don’t get what you mean.”

  “Last night was supposed to be a party, and she didn’t want any more unpleasantness, so she didn’t deal with me then. I was called on the carpet first thing this morning, though.”

  Wyatt winced. “You know, Jack, I—”

  “Save it. She’s right. You’re a guest in our home.”

  “Uninvited.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Mom took you in, gave you a bed, showed you the best of Last Chance hospitality. I treated you like an intruder. I… I regret that.”

  Wyatt could only imagine what it cost Jack to admit that he’d been wrong. His chest tightened with empathy. “I regret the things I said, too, Jack. For the record, I got some similar behavior tips from Olivia. Thing is, I wasn’t in a mood to hear them.”

  Jack blew out a breath. “When are we ever?”

  “Good point. Speaking for myself, I can be a stubborn sonofabitch.” Wyatt realized this kind of high-intensity conversation was best carried on exactly the way they were doing it, in the midst of a serious task, when they didn’t have the opportunity to sit and look at each other.

  “I’ve been called that a time or two,” Jack said. They walked in silence for several minutes while Rodney kept his nose to the ground.

  Wyatt wondered if that was the end of what they’d say on the subject. If so, that was okay. They’d made some progress.

  But then Jack spoke again. “Mom mentioned something this morning and I…” He took a deep breath. “I think she might be right about that, too.”

  “What’s that?”

  “She wondered if my rejection of you was payback, both to our mother for rejecting me, and to you, because… because you didn’t seem to understand how much…”

  Wyatt wasn’t going to make him say it. “I didn’t,” he said quietly. “But I do, now. And it’s partly because you rejected me, so in a way, you did me a favor, there.”

  Jack’s laugh was short. “Yeah, well, you won’t get Sarah to agree with you.”

  “I might. Someday. That’s assuming…” Now he was the one reluctant to say what he was thinking, in case he
was wrong about where this exchange was heading.

  “If you’re wondering if you can hang around, the answer is yeah, I’d like that.” Jack cleared his throat. “I’d like that a lot.”

  The tightness in Wyatt’s chest loosened a little. Olivia was still out there, and he wouldn’t be able to relax until they found her, but knowing he and Jack were coming to an understanding gave him hope that they’d find Olivia, too. Between Wyatt’s determination and Jack’s knowledge of the area, they made a good team. Well, and Rodney, of course. Couldn’t forget the Basset hound and his excellent nose.

  “Just one thing,” Jack said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Having you around — I’m okay with that. But having Diana show up is a whole other deal.”

  “No problem.”

  “Yeah? How are you going to keep her away?”

  “Simple. Tell her she’ll have to travel almost two hours round-trip to get a decent latte. Issue handled.”

  Jack laughed, and it was the first time Wyatt had heard him do that. He grinned to himself. Maybe he’d finally get to see the lighter side of Jack Chance.

  Olivia woke to loud baying of the kind she’d only heard in movies when they were tracking escaped convicts with bloodhounds. Rodney!

  Leaping up, she prayed that the baying was coming from the throat of a dog she knew and not from bloodhounds chasing an axe murderer through the woods.

  She decided to take her chances. “I’m here!” she yelled as loud as she could, although her throat was dry from lack of water. “Over here!”

  “Olivia!” Wyatt’s voice had to be the sweetest sound in the universe.

  “It’s me!” She ran in the direction of the baying and Wyatt’s voice. “You found me!”

  Wyatt broke through the trees and they practically knocked each other down.

  “Oh, my God.” He held her tight, rocking her back and forth. “Oh, my God. You scared the crap out of me.”