by Delta James
He squeezed her hand then whispered, “And if that hand creeps any closer to my cock, when we leave, I’ll find a quiet place to spank that pretty ass of yours while I have you bent over the tailgate.”
Willa could feel the blush rising in her cheeks. She searched his face and realized he was dead-ass serious. They’d stopped one time, and he’d bent her over the tailgate to mount her from behind and have sex, but he’d never actually stated he would spank her. She wanted to feel shocked and appalled, but she didn’t.
“Yes, Mac.”
He brought her hand up from under the table and kissed her knuckles. “That’s my good girl.”
They spent the rest of dinner talking only generally about Mac’s unplanned trip and Willa’s latest gig. Finally, they split dessert then went out to the parking lot.
“Do you want to drive?”
“Yes.”
She threw him the keys, and he helped her into the car, allowing his hand to linger on her bottom while he blatantly looked down the front of her dress.
“See something you like there, lawman?”
“Why, yes I do. And I’ll be conducting a much more thorough inspection once we’re home.”
He closed her door and then joined her in the truck and headed out onto the highway.
“So, are you going to tell me why you had to go back East?”
“I was going to wait until we were home, but I’m afraid if I make you wait much longer, you’ll become antsy.”
“What is it? Bad news?”
“Not exactly.”
“Okay, now you’re starting to worry me.”
Mac took a deep breath. “They want me to head up the Fugitive Retrieval Group.”
“Oh my God, Mac. That’s a huge promotion, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “It is, and it’s something I think I’d really enjoy and be good at.”
She leaned over and kissed him. “I’m so happy for you. And, of course, I think they picked the right man for the job. When do you start?”
“As soon as possible. There is one small, possible fly in the ointment.”
“What’s that?”
“The position heads up a small cadre of highly trained and specialized field operations guys who are truly the best in the world. The hiccup is the SOG is stationed at Camp Beauregard in Louisiana. It’s about two hundred miles northwest of New Orleans and about thirteen hundred miles southeast of Sedona.”
Willa felt as though someone had delivered a sharp, violent blow to her abdomen. She found it difficult to breathe.
“So, we’d have a long-distance relationship? How often could you come home? Could you continue to work a couple of days a week from home?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m afraid the job doesn’t lend itself to that. I’d need to be with my team in Louisiana.”
“Could they move to Scottsdale or Flagstaff?”
“No. The SOG operates out of Fort Beauregard.”
He reached over to take her hand, but Willa shrank into the corner of the cab.
“You’re leaving me?”
“God, Willa, how can you even ask me that. Of course not. I love you.”
“Then what are you saying? I don’t understand.”
“We’re going to have to move to Louisiana.”
“I have a business here, Mac. A life. You can’t expect me to pick up and move for you.”
“For us, babe. We’d be making the change for us. I figured Gus could run the farm and you could do all your bookwork, etc., from Louisiana. Then, when you had a trip, you could fly in a few days before you were set to leave. We can make it work.”
“Sure, for you. For me, not so much. You’d be gone chasing down fugitives. I’m not even sure I could deal with that, but I damn sure know I couldn’t if I were worried out of my mind all alone in some place I’ve never been. And are we even discussing this, or have you made up your mind?”
“It’s too good an opportunity to pass up.”
“Again, for you, I’m sure it’s a wonderful opportunity.”
They rode the rest of the way home in silence. She knew Mac wasn’t sure what to say to make her feel better. There was nothing to say. He was right—this was something he needed to do for his career—but she couldn’t leave her life to follow him, and they both knew it.
He pulled up in front of the barn. Willa was out of the truck before his seat belt was even unbuckled.
“Willa, wait!”
“For what? For you to leave and then decide it’s too much trouble to fly back and forth to see me if I don’t move with you?”
He caught up with her as they entered the house. “I don’t think it’s that kind of job. I need to be able to leave on a moment’s notice.”
“Then I don’t know what there is to say. You can’t stay, and I can’t leave.”
“You won’t leave. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?” she accused. “You could turn down the promotion. You could choose to stay.”
“I can’t afford to pass up the opportunity. My job is important.”
“My job may not be important to you, but it is to me. I built this business from the ground up with my own two hands. It was here before you entered my life, and it’ll be here as you exit.”
“Willa, stop. We need to sit down and figure this out.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Are you willing to stay?”
He shook his head.
“Well, I’m not willing to leave. We have nothing left to discuss. When do you need to be in Louisiana?”
“Sooner rather than later, but…”
“Then, go. I’ll pack your things and have them sent to you.”
“That’s it? You’re willing to throw away what we have without much thought and even less discussion?”
“No. I’m willing to let you leave so you can pursue your career and be happy. I would never want to be the reason you passed up such a good offer. But I’m not willing to abandon my life and my business for you. Maybe that’s the reason I could never bring myself to tell you I love you when you’d say it to me.”
She had to steel herself against recoiling from the shattered look that descended on Mac. She had wounded him deeply. But better to make the cut clean so they could both move forward.
Willa walked into the bedroom and stepped into the walk-in closet. She emerged dressed in her favorite sweater, jeans, and boots. Mac was sitting on the edge of the bed, obviously waiting for her.
“I’m going to head out for a few days. Please don’t be here when I return home,” she said softly.
“Willa, don’t. I love you, and we both know you love me, too. Babe, we can find a way to make this work.”
“Look, Mac, I was never crazy about you being a marshal, and you’ve never been happy with my helping the mustangs. I think we both need to see this as just a nice interlude in our lives and wish each other well. And I do wish you well. I hope you’ll find someone else.”
“Willa…”
“Please, Mac. This isn’t easy for me. If you ever loved me, please be gone before I return. Like I said, I can have all of your things packed and sent to you.”
“Willa, I don’t want you out in the wilderness by yourself. I can pack a weekend bag and be out of here in a few minutes.”
“I’m fine on my own. Except for the time I’ve been with you, I’ve been on my own most of my life. And what you want ceased to have any importance in my life when you decided to leave.”
She started to walk away, but he grabbed her by the upper arm and spun her into his body. His mouth descended on hers. She surprised herself by clinging to him and kissing him with a desperation born of pain and loss. He kissed her until she was breathless then nuzzled and kissed her all down her neck on one side and up the other until he was plunging his tongue deep within her mouth to taste and tease. When he’d kissed her past comprehension, she found the strength to gently push him away.
“Gator and I will be fine. We’ll stay close by. I
won’t watch you leave. Please be careful out there, Mac. I know it’s too late and way too little, but I do love you.”
She turned and fled, leaving him to stand and watch her go. She had Gator saddled in record time and only took a bedroll and small emergency pack strapped to her saddle. She checked her rifle then put it in the scabbard, led the big horse out of the barn, and swung up onto him. She loped away, hoping Mac would never know how much she hurt.
Chapter 4
Present Day
Willa moved Gator toward the mustangs that were her quarry. She needed to get them to the small canyon hidden behind the waterfall. The one she had used many times, taking advantage of the easily blockaded entrance and ample food and water. The men from whom she had liberated this herd would be in hot pursuit as soon as they changed a tire on each of their vehicles. Willa was a good shot, and disabling their vehicles was the most effective way to delay their reaction to her theft. The smugglers—at least that was how Mac had always referred to them—might take up the chase, but their cursory search wouldn’t last long.
Mac—the thought of him still had the power to wound. Willa wondered if she’d ever truly heal from that loss. She shook her head to clear it. The smugglers would move on to easier and unguarded prey. She didn’t have another expedition booked for a couple of weeks. That would give her plenty of time to lie low with the horses until the men moved on. After that, she could easily drive them to protected lands.
She urged the wild horses on, using Gator’s intimidating size to push the stallion and his mares and foals toward the entrance of the hidden canyon. They were reluctant to follow the trail along the bottom of the cliff, but she moved them relentlessly forward. Once past the waterfall, a tunnel opened up, and the stallion led his mares into the secluded valley.
Willa followed them in then stepped off Gator and put in place the gate that would block the only exit out of the lush meadow nestled in the ring of steep, sharp cliffs. She set up the makeshift corral under one of the big trees and pulled Gator’s tack so he could munch grass and relax for a few hours.
***
Five years had passed since Mac had left Willa to head up the US Marshals Special Operations Group. The mandate of his team was to be available to assist other marshals on an immediate basis or launch a fugitive retrieval action for those listed on the service’s Most Wanted list.
Though he loved his job, his team was stable and the past few weeks had been relatively quiet, more and more Mac found Willa in his thoughts. It had been late one night when he’d been nursing a Kentucky whiskey that he had decided it was time to for him to reclaim her. She was, and had always been, his one and only love. He needed to get them back on track and put their lives together. Mac had never found with anyone else what he’d had with her; and he knew from John that Willa was also uninvolved.
There had been rumors about a change in location for his team. He had the seniority which would allow him to write his own ticket about where he went, assuming he even stayed with the Marshals. Recently, he’d realized how much he missed riding every day. He missed a life that was away from an office. He wanted to be out on the open range, but most importantly, he wanted Willa.
When his phone rang, something told him things were about to change. It was John who had taken Mac’s post on the Fugitive Retrieval Task Force out of Arizona when Mac left to head up the SOG.
“Mac? It’s John. I was hoping to be able to catch you tonight. You and your guys ready to roll?”
“Always,” replied Mac with a smile.
“Remember that bastard Simon Eastwick from Scottsdale who murdered his wife?”
“The one who strangled her, buried her in the desert, and then reported her missing?”
“That’s the one. If it hadn’t been for the coyotes, we’d never have found a body. Well, he’s out on a $2.5 million bail and failed to show up for his court appearance. They’re about ready to add him to the 15 Most Wanted. His passport has been confiscated, but it looks like he’s gone off the radar.”
“We had his assets, right? How far could he go?”
Mac heard a humorless laugh on the other end of the line. “Oh, you’re going to love this. We think he took off on horseback.”
Mac laughed with genuine amusement. “Are you kidding? Of course you aren’t, or you wouldn’t be calling. Any ideas where he’s headed or if he has any help?”
“No, but if you and your group could give us a hand and help us bring this guy in, I’d be awfully grateful.”
“No problem, John. Let me run it by the guys upstairs, and we’ll be headed your way.”
“Thanks, Mac. I want this guy…bad.”
“We’ll be wheels up within the hour. How long has he been on the run?”
“We’re not sure. He was last seen this afternoon about one our time, two yours.”
Mac glanced at his Rolex—a gift from Willa. “So at most, he’s been on the run for four hours. It’s about three hours to you. That’s seven hours. Why did you wait so long?”
“We had all of his vehicles, and we thought all of his bank accounts. The local law dogs were keeping as close an eye as we could, but his lawyer has been all over us for harassment. We didn’t realize he’d flown the coop. The only things missing from his place are a couple of horses and some camping gear. We looked for him, but I could use your help. The local guys are having to pull back, and they’re trying to distance themselves. If he escapes clean, it’ll turn into a news cycle nightmare. If it becomes public knowledge, we need to be on top of it.”
“I don’t think getting the go-ahead will be difficult, given the notoriety of the case. Unless you hear from me to the contrary, we’ll see you at your office for a briefing in about three and a half hours. We can come up with a game plan and be ready to ride or to roll at first light.”
“I owe you, Mac.”
“No worries, Johnny. If you bring me one of Mandy’s homemade meatloaf sandwiches, we’ll call it even.”
John laughed. This time, one laced with humor. “You have yourself a deal. See you later.”
Mac hung up the phone, cleared the operation with the higher-ups, and called his men. They were on the plane assigned to them for their use within thirty minutes.
***
Willa managed to settle the herd so both she and Gator could have a much-needed rest. She would head to the old stagecoach stop in a few hours, ensuring the men who might have followed her would have given way to the heat and retired from the field. She and Gator would mosey back to pick up her other horse and gear. She’d be able to make better time when she returned, as by that time, the sun, and its accompanying heat, would have begun to abate for the day.
Doing so meant setting up in the dusk and pre-dark, but it would be easier on her horses. Her plan was to set up the skeleton of the lean-to and small corral for her own horses before she headed out. That way, there would be less to do when she returned this evening.
Once she figured enough time had elapsed, and she had accomplished the tasks she had set for herself, Willa re-saddled Gator, swung up, and headed out. She glanced towards the stallion and his mares and smiled. She’d like to think he knew she was trying to help, but she’d settle for knowing he didn’t see her as a threat.
Willa was careful to leave the canyon entrance behind the waterfall surreptitiously, ensuring no one could see her exit. She set off at an easy, ground-covering jog trot along the trail and then across open range.
Several hours later, Willa reached Tortilla Flats and checked in. Mandy assured her their next scheduled expedition was in two weeks and she had everything under control.
“So, if I need to catch up with you, boss lady, are you going to be reachable?”
Willa smiled. Mandy knew her far too well. “Maybe. I’m going to doing some riding.”
Mandy laughed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Mandy knew better than to pursue that line of questioning. If Willa was doing some riding, it usually meant she w
as skirting the legalities of something to do with saving her beloved mustangs.
The two women had been friends and worked together for more than seven years. Willa was respectful of Mandy’s husband’s job and tried to ensure anything she did would not compromise either of them.
Having made sure everything was under control, Willa bundled all of her gear onto her packhorse and posed for a few pictures with both her horses before heading out to return to the canyon. It always amused her when tourists at Tortilla Flats wanted to take a picture of a real-life cowgirl. Willa wore leggings under her doeskin chaps, with a lightweight peasant-style shirt, a hat, and cowboy boots with silver spurs. To Willa, it was everyday riding gear but, to them, it was unique and photo worthy.
She made good time and was able to take advantage of the dying light and accompanying cooler temperatures. It was only during the last part of the ride, where they needed to go behind the waterfall, that the sun had fallen behind the horizon, leaving them to use the full moon and star-studded desert sky to negotiate their way.
Willa was glad both Gator and the packhorse had made this trek many a time. Neither of them was fazed by the powerful rushing water or the dark tunnel beyond. As they slipped behind the waterfall, Willa took out an electric lantern and held it up so they could see where they were going.
Once they were through the tunnel, she pulled the gear from both horses then put them into the makeshift corral. She finished setting up the lean-to and put in chopped feed and some grain. She made several trips to the running stream to fill up an inflatable trough so they’d have water.
After seeing to her horses’ needs, she turned her hand to putting together an orderly camp. She stowed some of her gear outside the corral under the covering she had used to build the makeshift lean-to for the horses. Then she set up one of the tents she used in her business. Inside, she arranged her food supply in airtight containers, formed a shelf system of sorts to store pots and pans, clothing, etc. She inflated the comfortable blow-up bed and spread out her opened sleeping bag as well as a soft flannel sheet, down comforter, and her trusty pillow. Having placed her tent on a rock floor meant she could keep things neat and tidy.