Rescued by the Ranger

by Dixie Lee Brown

  She’d obviously been close to Amanda, and the idea of seeing his mother through her eyes intrigued Garrett, but he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he was drawn to her, too. Rachel was an attractive, intelligent, sexy woman, and her charms weren’t lost on him. Usually she was bristling with put-downs and smart-ass remarks, but he’d gotten to see the softer, vulnerable side of her twice now, and he wanted to get to know that woman better. A chuckle escaped, sounding more like a grunt, at the foolish idea he might actually break through the barriers she had. That would probably take an act of God and Congress.

  Cowboy’s tail wagged slowly as Garrett swung his feet to the floor and rubbed his hands over his face. It was 0600 hours. He had time to throw on some running clothes, make a couple of phone calls, and still meet Rachel before she took off without him.

  He patted the dog, then grunted with the effort to stand. The damaged muscles in his back had stiffened on the long trip, and a night of restless sleep hadn’t helped. He’d need to get back on a regular exercise routine to keep his muscles warm and pliant. Turning on the table lamp and glancing at the clock again, he shuffled into the bathroom. A few minutes later, he slipped into a pair of old sweats and a charcoal gray army T-shirt. After donning socks and running shoes, he pulled his cell phone from the pocket of the jeans he’d worn yesterday.

  He moved to the window as he dialed a number. The call was answered on the first ring. “Hey, Luke. Still up at the crack of dawn, I see.”

  “Garrett. It’s damn time you called. I was about to come looking. Did you find Aunt Peg? Tell me about our inheritance.” His brother’s familiar voice, filled with humor, drifted over the distance, making Garrett homesick.

  With them both in different branches of the military, a sadistic machine that didn’t seem to care whether their leaves coincided, they’d had to snatch bits of time when they could in various ports of call. Regardless, no matter how long it’d been since he looked his brother in the eye, Garrett would always put his faith in the strength of their shared bond. “It’s a long story, Luke. I’ve got a lot to tell you . . . and I’d rather not do it over the phone.”

  “Good. When will you be home?” Luke punctuated his question with a yawn.

  Garrett hesitated only a second. At some point during his sleepless night, Garrett had toyed with the idea of asking Luke to come to the lodge, but he hadn’t made a decision until the words came off his tongue. “I need you to come to Idaho. I found Aunt Peg, and I think you should hear what she has to say about our mother.” He waited through the silence on the other end.

  “Sure. I can probably get out there in a few days.” Luke’s tone made it clear he was certain Garrett had lost his mind.

  Garrett grinned. If Luke thought he was crazy now, wait until he told him the rest. “Actually, I need you out here tomorrow.”

  “What the hell’s the rush, man?”

  Garrett considered avoiding the truth of his agreement with Rachel . . . but he’d never lied to Luke before, and this wasn’t the right time to start. Maybe coming clean with the whole embarrassing truth would pique his brother’s curiosity. “There’s a kick-ass gorgeous redhead here that I’m trying to impress.”

  Luke was quiet for a moment before his deep laughter dispelled the awkward moment. “In the first place, you were supposed to call me if there were any pretty girls around. And second, that doesn’t explain why you need me tomorrow.”

  “The problem is the young lady detests me. So, I asked her to give me two days to change her mind. If I can’t manage it, I’ll be back in my Jeep, on my way home, day after tomorrow.”

  “What’s the problem? I’ve never known you to lack confidence or shirk a challenge.” The warmth in Luke’s teasing voice put a smile on Garrett’s face.

  “I’ve managed to screw up a couple things already—bad enough to make me think I might actually be out of here by Tuesday.” Garrett grimaced at confessing his clumsiness to his brother.

  “Wait a minute. Are you saying you’d really leave there because of this . . . agreement?”

  “You haven’t met Rachel yet. I’m fairly certain she’d have me hung from the nearest tree if I reneged.”

  Luke hooted. “All right. I want to meet this girl who has you trembling in your boots. I’ll be there tomorrow. What’s the closest airport?”

  “Lewiston, I think. I’ll text you directions from there. You’ll have to rent a car.” Garrett stopped and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, little brother. I appreciate this.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, bro.” Luke disconnected the call.

  Garrett squeezed the phone tightly. For just a second, all of the familiar abandonment issues rushed to the forefront of his mind. He loved his half brothers and his half sister, but Luke was his only real family and the closest connection he had to his mother. Every once in a while when they’d say good-bye or part company, the loneliness, still hanging over him from his mother’s desertion, jabbed its claws into him again. This time, however, anger followed close behind, which he easily transferred over to his father. He glanced at the clock again before dialing another number.

  This time it rang at least ten times before a sleepy voice mumbled into the phone. “Do you know what the fucking time is, man?”

  “Whatever it is there, it’s an hour later where I am. Times a-wasting, Jase.”

  Poor Jase merely groaned.

  Garrett wiped the grin off his face so his friend wouldn’t hear the amusement in his voice. “You don’t have to talk, Jase. Just listen. I assume you still have your private investigator’s license?”

  Jase’s growl sounded as though it was in the affirmative.

  “I’ve got a job for you. I think you’ll enjoy this one.”

  “Why’s that?” Movements sounded through the phone and, when Jase spoke again, he seemed more awake and almost alert. “Are we digging into the fucking president’s liberal fundraising campaign?”

  Garrett smiled. “Even better.”

  Jase scoffed. “What could be better than that? You’re not jerking my chain, are you?”

  “I want you to investigate my father.”

  Stunned silence was Jase’s only response. As one of Garrett’s oldest friends, Jase Richards had spent a good deal of time under the senator’s roof while they were growing up. He probably knew the man as well as Garrett did.

  It wasn’t often he’d left Jase speechless. “I need you to find someone who remembers what happened between my mother and father before she left. And there’s a bonus in it for you if you dig until you find something in the neighborhood of three hundred letters addressed to Luke and me.” Garrett’s jaw tightened as he said the words.

  “What’s going on? Do you think there was more to your mother leaving than what your father let you believe? What kind of evidence do you have to back up what you’re insinuating about the senator?”

  “All hearsay. I ran into someone with a different version of what went down. That’s why I need you. Will you scrounge up the truth for me?” Garrett glanced at his watch again and scratched Cowboy’s ears, trying not to show his impatience.

  Finally, Jase exhaled a long breath. “For you, Garrett, I’ll do what I can.”

  “I knew I could count on you. Call me, day or night, if you need anything.” Cowboy pressed against his leg, his way of saying he was ready to go.

  “Will do, buddy. Listen, how’s it been going? Are you taking care of yourself, you know . . . like you’re supposed to? I get the feeling you’re not in Sacramento. Where are you?”

  Garrett frowned. Clearly, Jase was worried about him because of his injury. That’s what his friends did now, and Garrett was tired of being treated like an invalid. The truth was his wound had probably healed as much as it would. The only thing left to do was tone and push his body to reach the peak physical condition he’d maintained before his injury . . . and then learn to be happy with the best that he could do. In reality, that was the easy part. Dealing wi
th the guilt he woke up with every day because he’d survived when ten good men had died—much more difficult.

  “I’m okay, Jase. Thanks for asking.” As much as it grated on him, Garrett wouldn’t hold it against his friends for being concerned about him. “I gotta go. Call me, okay?”

  “I’ll keep you posted.” Jase was gone.

  Garrett shoved his phone in his pocket, retrieved his sweatshirt from the back of a chair beside the bed, and donned it on the way to the door. Cowboy loped along beside him, obviously excited to be on the go.

  Not another soul was stirring in the hallway outside his room, the stairwell, or the lobby downstairs. It was so quiet, Garrett began to wonder if Rachel had given him the wrong time to meet, but the moment he stepped out onto the front porch, he saw her.

  Her posture was rigid, her body language beyond tense as she stood in the shadows at the end of the covered porch to his right. She appeared to be staring into the trees and shrubbery at the side of the lodge, her back to him, giving no indication that she knew he was anywhere around.

  Garrett tapped his leg, signaling for Cowboy to be quiet, and swallowed the greeting that was poised on his tongue as Rachel slunk backward a step into the deepest shadows. Garrett stood still, listening, trying to see into the darkness of the tree line beyond the lodge. Nothing moved. It was as still as a cemetery—yet the skin on the back of his neck prickled with apprehension. Something was wrong.

  He closed the door without a sound and moved silently toward her. A foot or so behind her, he stopped and reached to tap her on the shoulder. As though she’d received a blow, Rachel whipped around, balled one hand into a fist, and threw a clumsy punch toward his jaw. Cowboy growled his warning.

  Garrett caught her wrist just before she connected, but she inhaled sharply, her mouth came open, and he was sure the scream she intended to let loose would wake everyone inside the house and succeed in scaring away whoever or whatever she’d been watching.

  Garrett pressed his hand over her mouth and pushed her back against the wall. He watched her eyes go from wide and startled to narrow and distrustful, and the realization of just how much she despised him caused a strange ache in his chest. “I’m going to let you go, okay?”

  She nodded.

  Garrett still pressed her against the lodge, but removed his hand from her mouth and rested it on her shoulder. “What’s out there? What did you see?”

  Her eyes flickered beyond the railing again. “I thought I heard something—someone moving through the bushes—but I didn’t see anyone.”

  “I’ll go check it out. Stay here.” He stepped away from her and immediately felt the loss of her warmth along his body.

  “I’ll go with you.” She stared at him with that same challenge in her expression that he was starting to find appealing in a strange way.

  Suddenly, Cowboy’s frenzied barking jerked Garrett’s attention toward the woods. The dog paced the width of the porch, his gaze locked on something in the shadow of the trees. A hurried movement caught Garrett’s eye, accompanied by the sound of running footsteps.

  “Stay here,” he growled over his shoulder as he vaulted the top rail. Cowboy hit the ground right behind him, and they both followed the sounds of the intruder’s flight through the trees toward the creek. He didn’t have a significant lead, yet Garrett caught only glimpses of the man’s silhouette between the large pine trees.

  He pushed himself to overtake the stranger, but each jarring step on the uneven, unfamiliar ground sent a sharp pain shooting through his thigh, straight to the weakened muscles of his back. The stranger could easily have outdistanced him, but appeared to purposely stay within fifty feet or so. Taunting him, as though the man knew Garrett’s limitations and had nothing to fear. As he disappeared into the shadows again, frustration and anger burned in Garrett, and he slowed to a walk, then stopped, bracing one arm against a tree to take some of the pressure off his bad leg.

  Cowboy, trained to stay with him, circled anxiously, waiting for the command to take the enemy down. Garrett raised his arm, ready to issue the words, but something about the situation made him hesitate.

  An instant later, an unfamiliar voice cut across the darkness. “Don’t make me shoot him.”

  Garrett’s gaze darted ahead to the creek, not forty feet away, where the man was just stepping out from behind a tree. For a split second he was framed by the feeble light of the horizon. It was long enough for Garrett to get an impression of their intruder and to spot the shoulder holster the man wore over his black turtleneck, his hand resting on the gun handle.

  “Chill, Cowboy.”

  The instant the dog dropped to his haunches, the man saluted Garrett, turned, splashed through the creek, and disappeared into the forest on the other side.

  What the hell had just happened? Garrett didn’t regret his split-second decision that probably saved the life of his dog. The stranger had apparently known exactly what Garrett had intended to do, and Garrett had no doubts that he had been prepared to kill Cowboy and anyone else who stood in his way. The question was . . . why?

  That one look also blew Garrett’s theory out of the water. It wasn’t Riley who’d stood outside the lodge under cover of darkness, waiting, and it wasn’t Darryl or Darryl, either. This man had all the appearance of a trained professional. But what was he after? If he’d wanted either Rachel or Garrett dead, he could have accomplished that easily.

  He turned at soft footsteps to find Rachel behind him. She touched his arm tentatively, and the worry in her eyes when she looked into his pleasantly surprised him.

  “Are you all right?” She drew her cool fingers over his forehead. “You’re bleeding.”

  A swipe of his own hand across his brow confirmed that she was right. He must have run into a low-hanging branch and drew blood without realizing. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”

  “Why do big tough men always say that? You could get an infection from that as easily as I could.” Rachel turned on a huff and started back toward the lodge. “Come on, Cowboy. We’re taking this stubborn, pigheaded friend of yours back to the house to put something on his cut. Although, his head is almost certainly so hard, it couldn’t possibly have hurt him.”

  Cowboy woofed and wagged his tail, and Rachel glanced back at the dog with a smile that warmed Garrett’s heart, even if it was his reputation being impugned for their enjoyment. As soon as her gaze swept to him, her amusement disappeared, but only a portion of her former wariness returned. He was making progress.

  “Do you know who that was?” Garrett fell in beside her, his arm brushing hers as they walked.

  Rachel looked sideways at him. “It wasn’t Riley, was it?”

  “Whoever that was, he’s way more dangerous than Riley.” They climbed the steps to the porch.

  Rachel stopped and turned toward him. “Do you think he’ll be back?”

  “It depends on whether he got what he came for. If he was after something inside the lodge, seeing you on the porch might have put a crimp in his plans temporarily. Or . . . maybe it was you he was waiting for.” Garrett searched her eyes and picked up on her fear seconds before her expression shuttered over.

  She looked down, focusing somewhere near the center of his chest. “Why would someone be waiting for me?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me. Maybe this does have something to do with Riley and his boys. Maybe they hired some professional help after you outsmarted them.” He stepped closer, waiting for her to look at him again. “If there’s something you’d like to tell me, I’m a good listener.”

  Her scornful laugh was clearly forced. “Of course not. That man could’ve just as easily been looking for you. You’re the only newcomer on the block.” Her adamant denial, followed quickly by pointing fingers at him, cast doubt on her truthfulness even before her gaze shifted away from him. She stepped toward the door.

  Garrett reached for her hand and stopped her. He’d lay odds that Rachel knew more than she was letting on, but fo
r now, he had to pick his battles. “There’s one more thing we need to discuss before we go in there.”

  Her brow furrowed as she searched his face.

  What he was about to say would no doubt put an end to the mostly amicable conversation they’d been having, and he was surprised by how much he regretted that. But there was no doubt they’d graduated from a standoff with Riley and his two buffoons, to what Garrett’s instincts told him was a totally dangerous and deadly adversary.

  He drew a deep breath. “We’re not keeping this from Peg. She has a right to know.”

  Rachel’s worried expression pulled at him, and the warrior in him wanted to rise up and protect her, starting with pulling her against him and calming her fears. With no small effort, he made himself stand still.

  Finally, she nodded. “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Can we get you cleaned up before we tell her? She’ll get the point without seeing you dripping blood.”

  “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.” He pushed the door open for Rachel, still holding her hand, and waited for Cowboy to squeeze through ahead of him. “Where are we going to do this . . . medical procedure . . . where she won’t see?”

  Rachel thought for a moment, then frowned. “I have a first aid kit in my room.”

  She was so obviously uncomfortable with that idea that he couldn’t help taking pity on her. “The place was deserted when I came down a few minutes ago. Is Peg even up? Maybe we don’t need to sneak around.”

  “She’s an early riser. She’ll be down any minute.”

  “Your room it is then.” Garrett threw her a grin he hoped would put her at ease.

  Rachel sighed. “You’ll be in and out of there in sixty seconds, so don’t get any ideas.”

  “What? I’m perfectly capable of tending this little scratch by myself. You’re the one who’s worried about it getting infected. I’m beginning to think you’re the one with ideas.” Garrett started up the stairs with her in tow before she had a chance to blast him.