Wyoming Cowboy Ranger

by Nicole Helm

  He was hers.

  His hands streaked over her, rough and possessive. She returned the favor. He scraped his teeth across her bottom lip, so she dug her fingernails into his shoulders. Her knees buckled, but he held her up hard against his chest.

  And then it all softened, as if all the tension simply leaked out of him. As if he was giving in to more than just the driving attraction that had always been between them. His mouth softened, his hands gentled. He held her as if she was spun glass and kissed her as if she were the center of his universe.

  He was giving in to love.

  She’d chosen it years ago, but she hadn’t been mature enough to understand that. She’d called it fate or divine intervention, but it had been her. Her wanting him, and his wanting her. She’d been afraid of the consequences, but that had only made it more exciting.

  Ten years later the excitement wasn’t in thwarting her family’s expectation, it was in the choice. In the knowledge of all that time, in the changes she’d made inside herself and the changes she hadn’t made, he was still where she belonged.

  The dull ring of a phone pierced the fog in her brain, but with her body humming and desperate for more of Ty, she didn’t really acknowledge it. It couldn’t be all that important, could it? Not as important as this.

  Except, of course, it might be. Because they were not just realizing and deciding all these big, life-changing things in the midst of a normal day.

  She managed to move her mouth away from his, though she kept her arms tight around him, and couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Phone.”

  “Nah.” His hands slid up under her shirt, over the cotton of her bra. Hot and rough, he dragged his fingertips across the peaks of her nipples.

  “It could, uh...” What was she talking about? It was hard to remember with need curling low in her stomach. But the phone kept jangling and somewhere in the fog of desperate lust she understood... “It could be important.”

  “Why would it—” He managed to lift his head, his expression as dazed as she felt. But he narrowed his eyes. “I guess it could be.” But the sound died and they looked at each other, still holding on, still not close enough.

  He lowered his mouth. “We’ll just forget—”

  But it immediately started ringing again and they both sighed. Ty let her go, and she had to sink onto the bed. Her legs simply wouldn’t hold her.

  He pulled the phone out of his pocket, frowned at the screen, then handed it to her. “Your sister. Why don’t you answer it.”

  Jen cocked her head at the screen as she swiped to answer. “We can talk about why my sister is in your phone as Deputy PITA later.” She lifted the receiver to her ear and answered, trying to sound breezy and light.

  She was pretty sure she sounded deranged.

  “Is everything okay?” Laurel asked without preamble, worry enhancing the demand in her tone. “Are you safe?”

  “Safe? Of course. Everything is great. Everything is... Yes.”

  There was a long, contemplative silence over the phone and Jen had to squeeze her eyes shut and try to get a hold of herself.

  But what she really wanted was a hold of Ty and to banish this ache that felt as though it had been growing inside her for a decade.

  “You were commandeered to the Carson cabin by your ex—who left you without explanation ten years ago. You’re in danger because someone who wants to hurt him thinks hurting you will do the trick. But you’re great?”

  Though Jen had gotten her breathing somewhat closer to being in control, she couldn’t look at Ty or she’d never be able to have a coherent conversation. So, she stared at her lap and focused on the fact Laurel was calling them.

  “I’m just making the best out of a bad situation,” she offered brightly.

  “Is that best in Ty Carson’s pants?”

  “Laurel!” Jen managed through strangled laughter. It was a little too apt.

  “Well, you’re panting like you’re running away from a bad guy or...”

  “Did you call for a reason?” Jen asked primly, wondering just how red her cheeks were and just what Ty would read into her embarrassment over her sister’s seeing right through her even over the phone.

  “Yes. Actually. I want to talk to both of you on Speaker, and Zach if he’s there. I think I’m hoping he’s not there or things would be weird.”

  “He’s out putting up some of his surveillance equipment,” Jen grumbled.

  “Okay, that’s fine. You can fill him in. Put me on Speaker. Unless Ty’s naked. I don’t want to talk to Ty on Speaker if he’s naked.”

  “He’s not...” Fumbling with his phone, Jen managed to switch on Speaker. She avoided Ty’s steady gaze even though she felt it boring into her. She cleared her throat. “Laurel has some news.”

  “The DNA on your notes matches Braxton Lynn,” Laurel announced. “And here’s where things get interesting. We looked into the name you gave us, Ty. Oscar Villanueva of Minnow, Arizona. Turns out he and Braxton Lynn lived in the same group home for four years.”

  “He’s connected to Oscar,” Ty said dully.

  Jen reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. Though she didn’t know why it should hit him hard, she could tell from that voice devoid of all emotion it did hit him.

  “Yes. I’m still working on information, but Braxton’s behavior became erratic after Oscar left for the army. Bounced around different foster situations, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he had some criminal issues, but I don’t have any access to juvenile records. Which is why I want you to pass that along to Zach.”

  “You’re telling me you, Ms. Law and Order, know full well Zach is hacking into closed files?” Ty asked incredulously.

  “Don’t sound so surprised. I am married to Grady. Something had to rub off. Besides, I’m not asking him to. I just know he can and probably is. So, give him the name and if he finds anything, I want to know. My men searched the woods. A few footprints, but nothing concrete enough to figure out where he disappeared to, so I want you two to stay put for the time being. Now that we’re sure that it’s him, we should be able to round him up soon enough.”

  “Where’s Oscar?” Ty asked.

  There was no answer, only the slight buzz of a phone connection. Jen looked up, her heart twisting at that blank expression on his face.

  “Laurel.” Ty’s voice was quiet and calm, but Jen could see the tension in him underneath that stoic mask.

  “It seems as if Oscar’s been in a lot of trouble since he got out of the army,” Laurel said gently, and vaguely Jen noted. “Since he was kicked out of the army I should say, but you knew that, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, I knew.”

  “Is it possible that has something to do with Braxton’s fixation on you? Oscar, his foster brother, was booted out, and you went into the rangers?”

  Jen watched Ty rake his hands through his hair. And there it was—all that guilt he heaped upon himself. “Yeah. Not possible. Probable. I reported Oscar’s dependence on drugs and alcohol to our superiors. It directly resulted in Oscar’s discharge.”

  “You didn’t think to tell me that a little sooner?” Laurel demanded.

  “No, I didn’t. I didn’t think they could be connected. Or maybe I didn’t want them to be. I’ll apologize for that, but it doesn’t change anything.”

  “We should focus on Braxton,” Jen said. She tried to reach for Ty’s hand again, but he moved away from her. Out of reach. “Obviously he blames Ty for something, but Oscar having some trouble with the law—”

  “He’s in prison.”

  Jen closed her eyes. She didn’t know the man, and yet her heart ached for what this would all do to Ty.

  “I have to go,” Laurel said, sounding understandably tired. No doubt she was putting in too many hours on top of pregnancy. “Fill Zach in. Keep yourselves safe. Got it?”r />
  “Yeah. Thanks, Laurel,” Jen managed. “Keep us updated.”

  “I will. Stay safe.”

  The call ended and Jen looked at Ty. He had his back to her, so rigid. Everything about him radiated do not touch energy. Her first instinct was to give him space, even as her heart ached to touch him. To soothe.

  Her heart had been leading her today, not her instincts. So, she’d be brave enough to follow her heart again. She crossed the room to him, wrapped her arms around him from behind and leaned her cheek against his back.

  * * *

  TY DIDN’T WANT her comfort. That was what he told himself. He didn’t want soft arms or sweet words. It was better, so much better, when you learned to do without. Because you could forget. You could convince yourself you didn’t need it.

  God, he needed her. Even something as simple as this hug kept that heavy blackness of guilt from consuming him completely.

  But it slithered along the edges. The connection to Oscar made so much sense. He’d thought about Oscar on and off over the years. Ty had always felt bad for the way things had shaken out, but he’d known Oscar was a liability to everyone around him. He thought getting him booted home might be some kind of a favor.

  Instead it had been a life sentence. Prison.

  How could it not be his fault? His action had directly led to Oscar’s discharge. Maybe bad things would have happened to Oscar either way, but it was hard to hold on to that when he could only think of all the ways he could have done it differently.

  “Don’t,” Jen murmured.

  He stiffened. “Don’t what?” he asked, knowing exactly what she’d say.

  She moved to his front and reached up to brush her fingers over his close-cropped hair. “You know what. Don’t blame yourself for someone else’s actions. We’re too old for that now.”

  He could have shrugged her off. He could have ignored it all and focused on the task at hand: Braxton Lynn and his fixation on Jen. Instead, faced with her sympathetic brown eyes and her kiss and “I love yous” drifting through his mind, only the truth could spill out.

  “I ratted him out, Jen. Now he’s in prison. How am I not supposed to draw some conclusions on my guilt?”

  “You informed your superiors of a problem because he was a potential threat—not just to others, but to himself.”

  “How did you...” But he realized she didn’t know it. She just figured it out. She was always good at that—working out why people felt the way they did, thought the way they did, acted the way they did.

  “So, say it.”

  He didn’t want to. Partially because he couldn’t believe it and partially because of that same emotion that had jolted him earlier. Fear. But again, he wouldn’t let fear win. “It wasn’t my fault,” he intoned, even though it was a lie.

  “Now, work on believing it.” She smiled and then lifted on her toes to brush her mouth against his.

  She kissed him like she believed he was worthy of it or her. She always had, and he’d figured it for a lack in judgment. A lack he took advantage of because he couldn’t help himself.

  But her judgment was just fine, and she understood him all too well. Still she loved him. Over years and distance, she loved him and was willing to forgive him. Forgive him.

  “What are we going to do about this?” he asked, and he didn’t have to specify which this. She clearly knew.

  She smiled. “Embrace it.”

  * * *

  HE WATCHED THE MAN. He still hadn’t figured out who this third wheel was, and he didn’t like it.

  He didn’t like anything right now. Through the night he’d managed to drill a hole in the room he’d figured to be a bedroom based on one of the few windows and cheerful curtains.

  All while cops had tramped around in the night, loud and stupid, he had worked. It had been so easy to stand in the shadow against the cabin and quietly and carefully drill his hole. Everyone said his old-fashioned tools were pointless. But they were quiet. They were gruesomely effective.

  He’d gotten a perfect hole to insert the tiny camera. Modern technology had its place, too. He appreciated the old and the antique of a simpler, better time, but Oscar had taught him how to use the modern, too. He’d taught him to drive when no one in that house had cared about him.

  Oscar had been his big brother. They didn’t need blood to have a bond.

  But then Oscar had left. Tempted away by the army and their lies about bravery and courage and meaning something.

  He would have followed. Had planned on it. But then Oscar had gotten thrown out.

  Ty’s fault.

  Oscar had started getting into trouble. Oscar hadn’t wanted him around anymore.

  Ty’s fault.

  All of it, all the bad before he’d finally gotten his brother back was Ty’s fault.

  Maybe he’d been a little grateful for Oscar’s prison time, because Oscar didn’t have a choice anymore. If Oscar wanted a visit from the outside, it was from him. He didn’t tell Oscar that, though. Instead, he told Oscar he would make everything right. Balance the scales so they were brothers again.

  Oscar had liked the idea. Liked the idea of hurting anyone who’d harmed him.

  First it was the girl in Phoenix. She’d led Oscar on, and then Oscar had had no choice but to hurt her. But Oscar had landed in jail, and the girl had gotten off scot-free.

  He’d fixed that, and Oscar had been very appreciative. Oscar had even called him brother again.

  He had to close his eyes to rid them of the tears that clouded his vision. They’d been brothers again.

  And once he paid back Ty for all the ways he’d hurt Oscar, they’d be a real family. For good. No matter what.

  He narrowed his eyes at the man walking out of the stables. This stranger was putting up surveillance equipment.

  That wouldn’t do.

  He knelt and pulled the pack off his back and surveyed his weapon options. He wanted to save the bear traps for Ty, though anyone who wandered across them would be fine, but he wouldn’t lure this stranger to one. The arrows were for Jen. She needed some comeuppance for the way she’d let Ty touch her.

  The gun would probably be too loud. He pulled the pistol out, aimed it, pretended to fire. Then chuckled to himself. He was nothing if not resourceful. Why take out the stranger now when he could get two for the price of one?

  And then Jen would be his.

  She would need to be punished.

  He was starting to ache for that. For her screams. For her blood.

  She isn’t your focus. She’s only a tool to get to Ty.

  But if she was only a tool, that meant whatever was left over could be his. Screams, blood and all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jen managed only a few bites of her canned chili dinner. Zach had hacked into the juvenile records system, and his expression was grim as he got ready to tell them what he’d found. It made her stomach churn.

  “Unfortunately, this isn’t the kind of record I’d want to see knowing said person is out there haunting the woods.”

  “That bad?”

  “It looks like it started small. He’s got some vague notes in his foster files about erratic behavior, threats of violence. A few assault charges he was given some leeway on since he was so young and bounced around. Things kind of level off, then spike up again right around the time Oscar would have left for the army. Stalking, assault—mostly against women. It looks like he had mandatory counseling as he got closer to eighteen.”

  “Clearly it solved all his problems,” Ty returned drily.

  “Record-wise? It seems to have helped. He doesn’t have anything as an adult. Not so much as a speeding ticket. He left the group home as soon as he could. Had trouble keeping a job, but other than that...”

  “Mostly against women,” Jen murmured, turning that small piece of inform
ation over in her mind. It had to be relevant, and possibly the key. “And yet, his anger is directed at Ty, but he’s chosen me as a target.”

  “He views you as weaker. A safer target,” Zach offered.

  “Yes. His behavior now... He has to know he’s going to get in trouble—after years of not getting into any.”

  “Just because there’s no record of it doesn’t mean he didn’t do anything wrong. It just means he wasn’t caught,” Ty pointed out.

  “It’s more likely,” Zach agreed. “The lengths to which he’s willing to go now doesn’t point to an emotionally stable soul, or a man who was rehabilitated, then snapped back.”

  “If his violence is typically against women, then that’s our answer.” It explained the lack of action. She was stuck in a cabin with a former army ranger and a former FBI agent, so that would be threatening to Braxton. If they were going to draw him out, end this, it needed to be with someone he didn’t find threatening. It just made sense. But then Ty laughed.

  Not a real laugh—a harsh, sarcastic sound that had her bristling. “No,” he said simply, as if she’d outlined her plan out loud, as if his word was final.

  “You don’t know what I was going to say.”

  “Of course I know what you were going to say. You’re a Delaney, aren’t you?” He pushed out of his chair and began to pace.

  She was surprised enough by the angry strides to be quiet for a few seconds. He wasn’t even trying to hide his irritation. It simmered around him plain as day, with every footstep one way and every whirl to pace in the opposite direction. Which wasn’t like Ty at all.

  “I don’t know what being a Delaney has to do with the fact that a woman won’t be threatening to him, and we need to draw him out.”

  “Addie did the same thing, didn’t she?” Ty demanded, eyes blazing. “She tried to use herself as bait. And what happened?”

  Jen frowned. She hated to think back to the way Addie had been kidnapped and hurt. Terrorized really, but she’d survived. And the man who’d hurt her couldn’t anymore. “This isn’t the same as the mob, Ty. I believe you pointed that out to me just a few days ago when I reminded you that Noah bringing Addie here hadn’t exactly worked out for them back then.”