by Zoe Chant
Rancher Lion
By Zoe Chant
Copyright Zoe Chant 2016
All Rights Reserved
Author’s Note
This book stands alone. However, it’s the third in a series about the lion shifters of the Cedar Hill Ranch pride. If you’d like to read the series in order, the first and second books are Lawman Lion and Guardian Lion. Alternatively, you can buy both at a discount in the Cedar Hill Lions Boxset #1.
Table of Contents
Chapter One: Sasha
Chapter Two: Joe
Chapter Three: Sasha
Chapter Four: Sasha
Chapter Five: Joe
Chapter Six: Sasha
Chapter Seven: Joe
Chapter Eight: Sasha
Chapter Nine: Joe
Chapter Ten: Sasha
Chapter Eleven: Joe
Chapter Twelve: Sasha
Epilogue: Sasha
A note from Zoe Chant…
Special Sneak Preview: Lawman Lion
Chapter One
Sasha
Night was closing like a fist around her.
Shivering and pulling her thin coat tighter over her shoulders, Sasha Stevenson asked herself, for about the hundredth time that day, why she’d thought this was a good idea.
The answer, of course, was always the same: Because I had no other choice.
And it was true. As stupid as she felt stumbling about in the growing dark – and in the middle of winter, to boot – she hadn’t exactly planned things this way. In fact, she hadn’t been able to make any real plans whatsoever. The only thing on her mind when she’d taken to her heels and run had been run, now, and don’t look back.
It had seemed like sound advice at the time. She hadn’t had any idea when she’d get another chance, after all. She’d needed to seize the rare opportunity that had been presented to her.
So she’d run. As fast as her feet would carry her. And she hadn’t once dared to look back.
Sasha was lucky that she naturally had a fairly good sense of direction, as well as a knack for picking out landmarks. She supposed it came from growing up in a rural area, with a lot of untamed woodland nearby. She’d been playing in it from the time she could walk, and she’d gotten good at looking out for herself, and making sure she could always find her way home again.
The skill had come in handy while she’d been running through the bare forest, her clothes snagging on branches, her feet buried up to the ankles in snow. She’d found her way back to the track leading out of the Blackwood Pack’s territory. And from there, she’d made her way to the highway, and hitched herself a ride – to somewhere, she didn’t care where, as long as it had been far, far away.
Far away from the place where her dreams of a new life had quickly turned into a nightmare.
She shivered. The night was falling fast, and with it, the temperature. Sasha hadn’t especially wanted to get out of the warm cab of the truck she’d been riding in, but when the driver had started making mentions of ‘payback’ and leering at her chest, she’d thought she’d better make her second escape for the day. But the small town she thought she’d spotted in the distance had turned out to be nothing but a bunch of old farmhouse ruins that didn’t even have roofs on them anymore, and wouldn’t provide enough shelter even for her to stay overnight. No wonder the trucker had been laughing when he dropped her off.
The first snowflakes of the overnight snowfall were now beginning to drift down from above. Sasha was wearing good hiking boots, but her clothes were too thin to be of much use against the nighttime cold.
And then there was the fact that she didn’t dare stop for too long, either.
Realistically, she would have to. She couldn’t keep running all night, snow or no snow.
But she knew that by now, the Blackwood Pack would have figured out she wasn’t where she was supposed to be, and would have come looking for her.
Of course, what with them being shifters, she knew they’d be able to track her by scent easily enough. Bears and wolves and who knew what else had good enough senses of smell for that. She hoped her hitched ride would have been enough to throw them off for at least a little while, but really, what with the highway stretching on for as far as the eye could see with no deviation, it wouldn’t be that hard to guess where she’d gone.
As the cold sank deeper into her bones, Sasha felt panic well up inside her. Maybe she’d have to go back. Maybe she’d made a much bigger mistake in trying to run than she’d thought. As much as she hated the thought of being a prisoner, she didn’t want to die out here in the snow, either.
Get a hold of yourself. You’re not going to die. Shaking her head, Sasha told herself off sternly. She might just have been one human against a large group of shifters, and she might not have thought things through as well as she could have – but dammit, she’d had to do something.
She wasn’t one to take any situation lying down. And when Colfax, the alpha of the Blackwood Pack, had told her she would never be allowed to leave their lands again… well, she wasn’t about to accept it without a fight.
Sure, they might find her and drag her back. But at least she’d tried.
Sasha paused, looking around her. She was starting to shiver now, her breath streaming out in front of her in puffy white clouds. The last of the sun was sinking behind the hills. Soon, it would be pitch black, and then she didn’t know what would happen to her.
Swallowing, Sasha trudged determinedly on. There had to be something around here – a diner, a gas station, even a barn would be fine at this point.
Pausing, she glanced both ways. Ahead of her were trees. Behind her were open plains, leading back to the highway. It wouldn’t necessarily be safe for her to follow it at night. Trucks hurtled along it at dangerous speeds, not to mention the wild animals that would be out at night, hunting.
As if on cue, she heard the sound of a long, low howl behind her.
Sasha sucked in a quick breath, her heart pounding. Could the Blackwood Pack have caught up with her so quickly? Had they tracked her down in less than a day?
Then again, she thought, it wasn’t necessarily a Pack shifter. It could just be a regular wolf, alerting its pack to the presence of prey…
Thinking back over this idea, Sasha almost had to laugh at herself. Had the Pack really made her lose her mind so much that she would’ve preferred to see a pack of regular wolves on her trail? She must have been going crazy. There was literally no situation when facing down a pack of wolves should be the better option.
Looking back over her shoulder, Sasha gasped. Though the sky was rapidly darkening, she could make out several shapes, running over the snow toward her. She couldn’t tell what they were yet – wolves, bears, coyotes, or something else – but she could tell they were heading her way. Fast.
Caught in a dilemma, Sasha hesitated. She knew that no matter what, you should never run from wolves, and that both humans and animals had a better chance of surviving if they stood their ground. The same went for bears – never, ever run. Just drop to the ground and play dead. But if the dark shapes bearing down on her were shifters, then all those rules immediately went out of the window. They were animals, yes, but they were guided by human intelligence. No tricks would stop them when they came for her.
But she wouldn’t know what she was dealing with until they got closer – by which time it would be too late.
Swallowing, Sasha squinted into the gloom. The shapes were growing nearer by the second, dark against the snow. And…
And as they
got closer, she could start to make out individual shapes. There was a wolf. There was a smaller but still dog-like shape. It could’ve been a coyote, but at this distance, it could just as easily have been a juvenile wolf. She still wasn’t sure.
But just then, all doubt was removed from her mind.
Crashing out of the forest came something that looked like a wild boar, along with a leaping stag – animals she knew wouldn’t be seen in the company of wolves, if they could possibly help it. And they definitely weren’t on the run – they joined the wolves where they were speeding through the snow. They were obviously working together.
Without stopping to think, Sasha took to her heels and ran. The snow was still thick on the ground and she felt like she was running through water, her thigh muscles burning and aching, every step dragging. She knew she could never outrun them, but she wasn’t going to give up now. She was going down swinging.
Struggling through the snow, her lungs feeling ragged, Sasha ran. Behind her, she could hear the wolf howl again – maybe alerting more of its shifter compatriots that their quarry had been found. Gritting her teeth, Sasha kept going.
Everything in her ached – from cold, from fatigue, from despair. She couldn’t escape. If they didn’t kill her, they’d drag her back to the Blackwood Pack’s lair in the mountains. And this time, they’d make sure she never escaped again.
Another howl – this time, from much closer behind her. A sob rose in Sasha’s throat, but she ruthlessly pushed it down. Snow crunched loudly under her feet, but she still imagined she could hear the panting breath of her pursuers close behind her – feel their hot breath at her heels.
There was nothing ahead of her – no place to hide, and nowhere she could lose them. Not that it would matter, anyway: the shifters could track her with their animal senses, while figuring out where she’d gone with their human reasoning. It terrified her just to think about it. She, as a human, was no match for them.
Struggling on blindly, Sasha almost screamed when she ran full-force up against something that halted her in her tracks, knocking her to the ground.
“Get off me!” she shrieked, kicking out with her legs – she was sure one of the shifters had somehow managed to get around in front of her and she’d feel its teeth in her throat at any second…
It took her a moment to realize that nothing like that had happened at all – in her panic, she’d actually simply run headlong into a sturdy fence, its thick wires strung between sturdy wooden poles. And unless the Blackwood Pack had suddenly developed the ability to shift into inanimate objects, it wasn’t about to attack her.
Scrambling to her feet and cursing the lost seconds, Sasha pulled the wires apart with shaking fingers, crawling between them. Fear and the shock of falling were making her gasp for breath. But still she carried on, tripping over a hole concealed beneath the snow, now crawling on her hands and knees, only knowing that no matter what, she wouldn’t give up…
It took her a moment or two to realize that she wasn’t being chased anymore. The only sound now was her own stumbling progress through the fresh snow.
Risking a glance back over her shoulder, Sasha gasped. The creatures were still there – three wolves, she could see now, a coyote, a boar, and two massive stags. Each of them could easily jump the fence, or wriggle through it. But they weren’t. All of them were simply standing stock still on the other side, staring at her.
The lead wolf had its massive white teeth bared, snout wrinkled in an undisguised snarl of fury. But it wasn’t coming for her.
Are they just playing with me? Sasha wondered as she stared back at them. They could come get her at any second. Just a few leaps and they’d be on her. And then it would all be over.
But they didn’t move. They just stood there, hot breath white in the cold air, staring at her.
Sasha didn’t dare to move. She lay in the snow, shaking, wondering if, at any moment, she spell might be broken.
She sucked in a horrified breath as one of the smaller wolves, snarling, suddenly made a move to jump the fence, rearing back on its hind legs. But almost straight away, the larger wolf snapped his jaws, growling, forcing the smaller one to back down.
Sasha had no idea why they’d come to this sudden halt – but she wasn’t about to question it. Still, she stayed where she was, terrified, as slowly the Blackwood Pack shifters backed away, the wolves’ teeth bared, the stags’ heads low and threatening, the boar’s bristles raised.
Slowly, they all began to fade into the near-complete darkness. The last one to go was the largest wolf – a truly terrifying specimen, almost as tall as Sasha herself, its gray fur standing straight up along its hackles. It seemed to look her straight in the eye as it backed away – and then, suddenly, it hit Sasha as to who it was: Colfax. The alpha of the Blackwood Pack, who had forbidden her to leave. He’d come after her personally. She didn’t know how or why she knew it was him, but she did. Maybe it was the eyes: she’d never felt a presence so malevolent in all her years. He ruled the Blackwood Pack with an iron fist, and his word was law.
But now, something had made him stop.
He had completely disappeared into the dusk now, but Sasha could still hear his low, vicious snarl from just beyond the fence.
Sasha lay in the snow for she didn’t know how long, too terrified to move. But finally, it came to her that everything was silent. Colfax and the Pack shifters had gone – for the moment, at least. She noticed she’d stopped shivering – which was very bad. Hypothermia was setting in. Soon she’d be in no state to do anything at all, except lie in the snow and die.
Staggering, Sasha forced herself to her feet. She had to keep moving, keep her blood flowing. Looking around her, she began heading toward the trees only a short distance away. She could climb one and get off the ground for the night, which should keep her safe from whatever real animals hunted these woods and fields. Or she could make herself a shelter, however meager, with whatever debris she found on the forest floor, and use snow for insulation. Her uncle had taught her how to do it when she was still only a child. She knew about woodland survival.
Sasha pulled her jacket around her, wishing she had eyes in the back of her head. She didn’t trust that Colfax and his gang were really gone. She kept waiting to hear his growl behind her, or feel his paws against her back, knocking her down.
Exhaustion dragged at her bones, and her head felt light. It would be so, so easy, just to sink down into the snow where she stood, and sleep, sleep, sleep…
No. Stop thinking like that. Keep going. Sasha raised her hands, slapping her palms lightly against her cheeks. Think straight, damn you, she told herself. Get to the trees. Make a shelter. Then you can rest. But you can’t sleep. No matter what. Need to stay awake, stay warm.
Stumbling, Sasha finally made it to the dark trees. Pausing, she leaned against the sturdy trunk of a large fir, glancing around. She could barely make out anything – the last of the light had glimmered away, and she was in almost total darkness now.
Pushing her way past low-hanging branches, Sasha slowly made her way into the forest, feeling each step before she made it. There were plenty of fallen branches and detritus she could build a shelter out of. Her fingers felt numb, but she knew she could do it. She could make all kinds of shelters, from simple to more complex. She’d grown up by woodlands just like these.
Blowing onto her hands, Sasha reached down, picking up a hefty branch and dragging it over to prop it against a notch in a tree. It would serve perfectly well as the spine she’d build her shelter around. The idea was to trap a pocket of dead air inside, warmed with her body heat, high enough for her to sit up at one end, but narrow at the other. It was cramped and dirty, but that was the point – it would keep her warm.
Turning, Sasha scooped up a huge handful of detritus – only to suddenly burst out laughing.
For a second, she was sure that hypothermia had claimed her mind at last, and she must definitely be hallucinating. Because there, only a short
distance away from her, was the solid black shape of a cabin.
Dropping her bundle of leaves, sticks and bark, Sasha made her way as quickly as she dared. It was only once she’d touched the cabin’s rough-hewn wall with her hands and felt that it was real and solid that she believed what her eyes were seeing. There was no lock on the door – the handle turned, and she was inside.
Clearly, whoever owned the cabin was here often. There was a hurricane lantern hanging on the wall, which, on a quick inspection, turned out to be filled with kerosene, with matches sitting on a nearby shelf – meaning it must be in frequent use.
Sasha’s fingers were trembling so much – either from cold or from fear, she wasn’t sure which – that at first she couldn’t pick up a matchstick. She dropped the first one; the second one she fumbled with, unable to strike it, before it too fell away into the dark. Finally, on a third go, the match head ignited.
Sasha touched it to the wick. The lamp’s yellow light filled the cabin, illuminating a bed, a wood fire stove, and a small stack of firewood and kindling. Scarcely daring to believe her eyes, Sasha put the lantern down on the floor and began stacking the stove with kindling, before lighting it.
The heat from the fire felt like manna from heaven. Sasha groaned, sitting back as the flames licked around the small sticks and paper, the crackling sound like an old friend from childhood. She hugged her knees, suddenly feeling the urge to cry.
She would be safe here. The cabin walls would shelter her. The fire would keep her warm. And if there was anything to eat…
The thought of food jerked her up from her place on the floor. She hadn’t had anything to eat since yesterday. Throwing open the cupboards in sudden desperation, she was puzzled and a little distressed to find them mostly bare – though, standing on tip-toes, she was finally able to spot a few lonely cans of tuna fish, pushed right to the back. Grabbing them, Sasha opened the first can greedily, pulling out chunks of tuna with her fingers, before slurping at the leftovers. Oil ran down her chin, but she didn’t care – the tuna could have been caviar for how good it tasted right now.