by Alex Ander
“Yes.” The marshal threw her arms around Faith. “A million times...yes.”
Randall smiled at Faith.
The woman smiled back at him while hugging her sister.
He jutted out his chin at his girlfriend. “Where are you going to be staying?”
The women separated.
“Well,” Faith eyed Devlin, “if it’s okay with you, at your house...just until I get a place of my own.”
“You know you don’t have to ask. We’d love to have you.”
“Thanks.”
“In fact, I can’t wait to tell Cassie. She’s going to be ecstatic.”
“Just,” Faith lifted a forefinger, “don’t tell Dad. I want to see the look on his face when he learns his wish of me moving back home is finally coming true.”
Devlin sniggered. “My lips are sealed.”
“You know,” Randall folded arms across his chest and ran a thumb over his lower lip while staring at the snow ahead of his footwear, “you could always stay with me. I mean I’m still moving in and all, so,” he faced her, “you could help me with the decorating.”
“Uh,” Faith peeped at Devlin, “yeah,” before taking him by the elbow. “Can you give us a minute, Jess?” She led Randall away. “Look,” she took a breath and sighed, “I don’t think that’s the best thing right now.”
He leaned away from her, his brows arching upward.
She laid a flat hand on his chest. “Don’t take that the wrong way. It’s just that I’ve been living on my own since I moved to Seattle several years ago. And I have a certain way of doing things.”
“That’s okay. I’m flexible.”
“But I’m not. I’m used to having things the way I want them, when I want them. And I don’t want to ruin what we have together by you getting annoyed over having to,” she hesitated, “oh, I don’t know...slide my bras and panties along the curtain rod to get into the shower for example. You know...the little things that people find irritating over time.”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind touching your underwear. Granted,” his eyebrows danced a couple times, “it’s better if you’re in them when that happens.”
She smiled.
“Just out of curiosity,” his gaze, along with his mind, wandered, “do you wear thongs like the one you had on at my place every day, or do you usually go with those flesh-toned, full-coverage brief-like under—”
Faith nipped his chin between her thumb and forefinger and directed his attention back toward her. “I think I’m losing you, here, Noah.”
“Sorry.” He extended an up-turned palm her way. “Go ahead. You were saying.”
She gave him a playful smile. “I was saying I think we need to go slow and not play ‘house’ so soon. I mean we haven’t even had our first official date, yet. I’d love to move in with you, but,” she hesitated, “don’t you think we should at least go out for dinner before making that leap?”
“I get it.” He nodded. “I get it. You’re right. We’d be skipping ahead and missing out on some good stuff,” a beat, “like me picking you up at your place, opening the car door for you, kissing you goodnight on the porch. That kind of stuff.”
“Well,” she tossed him a mischievous grin, “I think it might be better if you came inside for the kissing part.”
He matched her playful demeanor.
“After all, it would be embarrassing if someone had to call the cops on us for indecent exposure,” a pulse, “after getting back from one of our dates, that is.”
“But when they arrived, half their work would already be done,” he hiked the corner of his mouth, “since you might already be in handcuffs.”
“Oh, really.” Faith crossed forearms below her breasts. “Maybe they’d find you in the cuffs. Did you ever think of that?”
Randall shook his head. “That’s not happening.”
“And why not? Why does it always have to be the woman wearing—”
“You two realize, don’t you, that you didn’t really walk that far away?”
The bantering couple turned toward the voice.
Devlin patted the horse. “Poor Sophia over here is starting to blush.”
Randall and Faith exchanged grins then headed toward the marshal.
“When we get back to Alexandria,” he raised his left hand and gave her a gentle hug around the waist, “would you like to have dinner with me,” a beat, “you know...for our first official date?”
“Finally. I think I dropped the word ‘date’ three times in the last minute. I thought I was going to have to ask you out.”
“Sometimes, I move a little slow when it comes to women.”
“Says the guy who’s already making plans to live with me.”
He chuckled.
She half hugged him back and tacked on a partial smile, “I’d love to have dinner with you, Noah,” before facing her sister a step later and motioning toward the horse. “When I was in the air, we passed a small town a few miles west of here. We’ll be able to get her some food and water there...not to mention a trailer to take her to wherever you two got her from.”
Randall faced Devlin. “It’s your choice. Snowmobile or...” he stroked Sophia’s powerful neck.
Taking the reins, “I’ll stay with the horse I rode in on,” Devlin stuck her left foot into the left stirrup and mounted the steed.
“All right. Faith and I will get these machines back to their rightful owners and then take the chopper and meet you at that nearby town she spotted.”
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
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Chapter 41
Except it’s Brand New
TWO WEEKS LATER...
2 JUNE—11:12 A.M.
NORTHEAST OF
ELMER, IDAHO
Wilbur Bentley stepped away from his cabin’s front door waving his arm a couple times, beckoning his unannounced guests to come in. “Well, this is a mighty fine surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see you two so soon. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Actually,” on Randall’s right, Devlin checked her watch, “I don’t think we can stay long.” She eyed Bentley. “We’re meeting up with family in another state and probably should be getting on the road soon.”
“Understood.” The elderly gentleman spied Randall before coming back to her. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“First of all,” Randall lifted the long case he was holding at his side, “do you mind if I set this on your,” he motioned, “coffee table there?”
“Sure. Let me make room.” The homeowner cleared a spot on the knotty pine table.
The deputy marshal placed the black plastic container on the table, worked two latches, and split the two halves before rotating the top half backward and laying it on the wooden surface.
Bentley’s eyes grew wider upon seeing the rifle inside the case. He gave the agents a look.
Randall smiled back at him. “It’s just like your other one,” a beat, “except it’s brand new.”
Taking hold of the Henry All-Weather Big Boy lever action rifle, the older male verified the 45 Colt’s empty status and ran the lever a few times. “Feels smoother.”
“We had the gun store tune it up a bit.”
Bentley pursed his lips and nodded while examining the shiny steel. “Not to sound ungrateful, but you said you were going to be bringing mine back to me.”
“We did. It’s strapped to the ATV outside, but,” scratching his chin, Randall eyeballed his partner, “well,” then faced the older man, “it isn’t exactly in the same condition as when you last saw it. It’s pretty busted up. The stock’s got a huge crack in it, the metal’s scratched, the wood’s gouged, and there’s a huge dent in the magazine tube...the result of the gun taking a hundred-foot dive off a cliff.”
Devlin gazed at Bentley. “I’m so sorry. I hope it didn’t have any special significance to you.”
“Actually, it does.”
Her heart sank. “Oh, Wilbur, I’m so sor—”
&nbs
p; “Once I found out about the adventure you two had with it, I decided I’m going to mount that gun in a place of honor,” he returned the new Henry to its case and pointed toward the fireplace on his right, “right above the mantel over there.”
She put a hand to her chest and let out a sigh of relief.
“I’m not going to fix one thing on that gun.” He smiled. “I can’t wait to tell the grandkids the story about the U.S. Marshals who took down a bank robber while riding Sophia and carrying,” he poked his chest with his thumb, “my rifle.”
Randall smiled.
Devlin chuckled. “Speaking of honor,” she retrieved two black velvet boxes from her jacket, “Wilbur H. Bentley, on behalf of the United States Marshals Service, and in lieu of the extraordinary assistance you provided to agents in its employ,” she opened one of the boxes and shot Randall a quick look, “we’d like to bestow upon you this...”
He handed her a manila envelope he had been holding then lifted out of the case a silver-colored five-pointed star situated inside a silver circle.
Bentley beamed.
“...this special deputy’s badge...”
Randall affixed the insignia to the left breast pocket of the elder man’s black-and-white flannel shirt before holding out his right hand.
Bentley accepted Randall’s proffering.
“...along with the title of,” she opened the envelope and withdrew a certificate, “Honorary United States Deputy Marshal.” Devlin presented the piece of paper. “Below your name you’ll see this is signed by Deputy Director Marissa Thorn of the U.S. Marshals Service as well as the marshal for the Coeur d’Alene office in Idaho.” She shook Bentley’s hand. “Congratulations, Deputy Marshal Bentley. And thank you for your assistance. Your actions were instrumental in bringing our fugitive to justice.”
Still grinning from ear to ear, the man admired his name on the document. “Thank you. Thank you very much.” He met each agent’s gaze. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
The federal employees smiled back.
“This will be framed and,” he shot a look at the fireplace mantel, “go right next to the rifle when it’s mounted.”
Two beats.
“Oh,” Randall pointed at the other black box in his partner’s hand, “we also have something for Sophia.”
*******
A FEW MINUTES LATER...
Inside the barn, standing outside Sophia’s stall, Randall and Devlin patted the horse’s neck, from around which hung a gold-colored equestrian ribbon fashioned in the shape of a U.S. Marshal’s badge, the words ‘USMS Trusted Steed’ printed in the center.
Having gone through a similar ceremony for the animal, Devlin stroked the equine’s fur. “It sure was a pleasure working with you, Sophia.”
Randall showed the animal some physical attention. “Thanks for taking care of us, girl.”
Following a few seconds of silence, Bentley eyed his visitors. “Are you sure you can’t stay for lunch...or maybe just a quick drink? I don’t get too many people coming to see me these days.”
Picking up on the man’s pleading tone while observing him, the marshals regarded each other.
Randall spied his watch then lifted a shoulder while coming back to her. “I could just drive a little faster to get there before dark.”
Devlin huffed out a smile. “I think you were planning on doing that, anyway.” She faced Bentley. “We’d love to stay for lunch.”
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
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Chapter 42
Perfect Day
ONE DAY LATER...
3 JUNE—9:09 A.M.
BIG SKY, MONTANA NEAR
YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK
With temperatures in the lower fifties, and on their way to the mid to upper sixties, with calm winds, and the sun rising in a mostly clear sky, the morning was signaling that it was shaping up to be a perfect day for horseback riding through the countryside.
His left foot in the saddle’s left stirrup, his left hand gripping the saddle horn and holding the reins, Randall pushed off, swung his right leg over the all-black American Quarter Horse’s rump, and landed in the seat.
On his right, sitting in front of her mother—mother and daughter riding in the same saddle atop a horse of their own—newly turned seven-year-old Cassandra Devlin kicked out her left leg while eyeing her footwear. “Thank you for my boots, Mister Randall. I really, really like them.”
He smiled at the girl dressed in blue jeans and a winter jacket, a cowboy hat on her head matching the color of the girl’s cowboy boots. “You’re welcome, Miss Cassandra. I’m glad you liked your birthday gift.”
“I do.” The kid eyed her aunt on Randall’s nine o’clock. “I like my hat, too, Antie Fay.”
“I was going to say,” Faith laid her crossed forearms on her saddle’s horn and leaned forward to spy her niece, “you better not leave me out, Squirt.”
Randall got Devlin’s attention before dipping his forehead toward the little girl’s rose-colored boots. “We almost went with pink but thought they’d be too stereotypical.”
“Hey, I’m just,” Devlin fiddled with her horse’s reins, “happy you two got her something befitting a girl and not a...bazooka or,” she wavered, “throwing stars...or something like that.”
“Your sister was eyeballing a BB gun, but I told her to put it back.”
Faith shot her boyfriend a playful visual dagger. “You were the one handling the BB gun.”
Devlin’s brows went higher.
“And then I,” he pumped a palm toward his work partner, “remembered our conversation in the car...from when we were in Washington,” before rolling a finger while glimpsing Cassandra, “about you wanting her to get in touch with her feminine side and all.”
“Well,” Devlin cocked her head at her husband Curt, “I’m glad you...”
Five feet ahead of his wife, Ashford stood on his horse’s left staring at the animal, the man’s gaze going up, down, left, and right.
“...finally came to your,” she frowned, “senses.” A beat. “What are you doing up there, Curt?” She glanced at her father, who was out in front of everyone else, chatting with the horse ranch’s owner-slash-tour-guide. “We’re all ready to go. What’s the hold up?”
Ashford gave his steed another once-over then shook his head a bit. “Mine seems tall.” He glimpsed the beasts around him. “You all got shorter ones. Why is mine so tall?”
Knowing her mate had never ridden a horse before, outside of the impromptu training session she knew he had received yesterday afternoon, Devlin smiled. “It’s okay.” She gave the other animals a quick peek then came back to his. “He only looks taller.”
Ashford took hold of the reins.
“I’m sure it’s not too late to get you one of those,” Randall pivoted to peek at the stables behind him, “Shetland ponies,” before facing the other male. “You know...the ones that are only,” he listed right and held a flat hand as close to the dirt as he could, “so high off the ground?”
Faith snickered.
Devlin grinned.
Ashford cranked his head around to snarl at his sister-in-law before half closing an eye at the funny man. “Watch yourself. I could easily go back to not liking you again.”
Chuckling, Randall held both hands in front of his chest in a ‘surrender’ position.
Observing the bantering men, two men occupying important places in her life, Devlin felt her heart flutter at the sound of them exchanging verbal barbs, at the sight of them slowly getting to know each other.
Ashford mounted his horse, settled into the saddle, and let out a breath. “Okay. I’m ready to ride,” a tick, “I,” he slid his right foot in the right stirrup after fumbling with the attachment for a second, “I think, anyway.”
After verifying that everyone was ready, the horse ranch guide led his group across a field of tall grass, his destination the start of a trail nestled among the trees a hundred yards away.
Faith moseyed ahead of Randall to speak with her brother-in-law.
Their horses walking side by side, Devlin looked at Randall on her left.
He noticed her smiling at him and was unable to resist the urge to return the gesture. “What’s that for?”
“I’m happy you and Curt are finally getting along. That’s all.”
Randall spied the man she had referenced. “Well, once I fought my way through his hard exterior,” he nodded, “I discovered he’s a pretty good egg.”
Cassandra tipped her head back to see her mother. “I had good eggs for breakfast this morning, Mom.”
Spying the child, the adults snickered.
“Did you, Babe?” Devlin pecked her daughter’s upside-down forehead, “That’s terrific,” then tickled the girl’s tummy.
Cassandra squirmed and giggled.
Randall grinned at the tender display of affection.
Five seconds later, the youngster tilted her head back again. “Mom, can I ride with,” she thrust out her left arm, “Mister Randall?”
“I don’t know, Cassie. That might make your Antie Fay jealous. She’s already called dibs on getting you first.”
“Wait a minute.” A mischievous grin played out over Randall’s features. “So, I’d be cutting the line ahead of her?” He leaned right and held out his arms. “If it’s okay with your mother, I’d consider it an honor to have such a lovely lady accompany me on this beautiful morning.”
Cassandra sent a visual plea toward her mother.
Devlin’s heart melted, as she stared into her offspring’s big, round eyes. “Oh, you know my weakness so well, don’t you?” She poked her head to the left. “Go ahead.”
Randall scooped up the kid and planted her on his saddle in front of him.
“Just don’t blame me when you,” Devlin glimpsed him then lifted a finger toward her sister, “get in trouble with her.”
“That’s okay. When she and I first met, I banked quite a few points with her.”
Devlin recalled the potentially horrific incident he was referring to and bobbed her head up and down a couple times. “You banked a lot of points with all of us for what you did that day.”