Cowboys Last All Night

by Jennifer Ashley

  Christie looked away from Trace when there was another knock on the doorframe. Agent Stillwater stood in the doorway.

  “Dr. Tenor said Christie is ready to be released.” The agent smiled at Christie, but it seemed forced. “We’ll get you on the road to Phoenix and tucked away with plenty of protection where Salvatore’s men won’t be able to do you any harm.”

  “I need to discuss that with you.” Trace drew the FBI agent’s attention. “Christie doesn’t want to go into full protective custody. I have an alternative.”

  “This isn’t up for negotiation, Agent Davidson.” Stillwater’s voice was hard.

  “No, it’s not.” Christie got to her feet, drawing Stillwater’s attention. “I’m going with Trace.”

  Stillwater narrowed her brows and looked at Trace. “What’s going on here?”

  Trace explained about his remote cabin on Mt. Lemmon. “It’s safe, and Salvatore’s men won’t have any idea where she’s at.”

  “I don’t like it.” Stillwater looked from Trace to Christie. “This puts your life at greater risk.”

  Christie stood straighter. “Agent Davidson has made it clear that it’s a safe alternative to being under the FBI’s thumb.”

  “I’ll send a couple of my best with you.” Stillwater looked angry enough to tear into Trace and slice him with her words.

  Christie shook her head. “No. Just Agent Davidson.”

  Stillwater looked like she was going to say something else about the arrangement Christie wanted, but switched gears. “We’ll need to coordinate this and make sure you’re not tailed until we can get you off on your own. Safely.” Stillwater headed for the door but stopped and turned back to Christie. “I hope you’re not making a mistake.” She turned away again and left the room.

  Trace stepped closer to Christie and put his hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be fine. I promise.”

  He was much taller than her and she tilted her head to look up at him. She zeroed in on his lips. She wanted to kiss him more than anything. An array of expressions traveled over his face, like he was having second thoughts, because he could probably see in her eyes how much she wanted him.

  Feeling suddenly shy and embarrassed, she looked away. Maybe he didn’t feel anything remotely the same for her.

  She liked the feel of his fingers as he touched her chin, raising her face. “I have food, if you don’t mind canned chili and dried fruit. I even have a bottle of wine or two up there.”

  With a grin, she said, “Sounds like a gourmet meal compared to hospital food.”

  It felt like it took forever to get released from the hospital. While she waited, Trace made a Wal-Mart run and took her prescriptions with him.

  She knew he’d been teasing about only eating chili and dried fruit. He picked up a few things, including warm clothing for her, as well as some groceries and an ice chest.

  When the staff finally did let her go, the nurse made Christie sit in a wheelchair until they reached the entrance of the hospital.

  Before they went out, Trace pulled a ball cap out of his back pocket. “Hold on.”

  He put the cap on her head and tucked her hair beneath it, trying to hide all the strands. She’d always been told her red hair was distinctive, so it made sense to cover it.

  A wall of agents surrounded her as she was helped out of the wheelchair, through the doors, and into Trace’s SUV.

  Once she was buckled in, Trace said, “I did get your prescriptions for pain meds filled in case you need them.” He gestured to a bottle of water sitting in the cup holder. “Water for you, and I put your Percocet and the prescription ibuprofen in the glove compartment. You can throw them in your purse.”

  “If I don’t have to, I don’t like taking anything too strong, especially something as strong as Percocet.” She grimaced. “I had that after I had my wisdom teeth removed and it made me feel loopy. The ibuprofen I’ll take for now.”

  “Need any help opening the bottle?” he asked as she reached for the compartment in front of her.

  She shook her head. “I’ve got it, no problem.”

  “You’re a little stubborn, aren’t you?” he asked with a grin.

  She shrugged. “I have my moments.”

  He put his hands on the wheel. “If you’re set, we’ll head for my place on Mt. Lemmon.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” She smiled. “Let’s go.”

  He pulled the SUV away from the curb and followed one of the black FBI SUVs. “I have Tylenol and aspirin in the compartment, too.” He entered the street, still behind the black SUV.

  “Thanks.” It was awkward with one arm in a sling, and it did make her arm ache, but she found the bottle of ibuprofen. She opened it and retrieved one of the huge tablets before putting the bottle of ibuprofen and the pain med into her purse. The water helped the big pill go down, but it still felt huge as she swallowed it. She looked over her shoulder to see another black SUV following them.

  It was just like in movies and books, but far more boring as they drove around Tucson on the freeways and surface streets. Eventually their escort SUVs left Trace and Christie, retreating and going to a hotel that was close to Mt. Lemmon.

  After Trace had driven around even longer, and was absolutely certain no one could have followed them, he drove up the winding mountain road of Mt. Lemmon.

  The road went up and up and up. It got chillier, and Trace had to turn on the heat. Tucson had been mild but she was glad that in addition to her suitcase, Trace had made sure there was warm clothing for both of them. After asking if she had a jacket, he had grabbed hers out of her luggage. It was the one she’d worn from her home to the airport in Indianapolis. He had a jacket for himself in the SUV as well.

  While Trace drove, they talked about Belle and Dylan, and their baby. Trace had taken Christie’s phone at the hospital, insisting it had to stay off while Salvatore’s men were looking for her, so she was disappointed that she couldn’t watch the video again.

  It took some time to get to his place. Her arm ached as they traveled, but the prescription ibuprofen helped.

  She was grateful that Trace kept the conversation light. Between everyone involved, including Agent Stillwater—especially Stillwater—Christie was tired of going over and over everything that had happened at the airport and how much danger she was in.

  Okay, she got it, she shouldn’t have flown back on her own, if at all, until it was time, and she was safely in the hands of the FBI. She glanced at Trace as he drove. Except that she wouldn’t be with him now if everything hadn’t gone down the way it had.

  Was being shot worth it? She mentally shook her head. God, she must be tired to be thinking this way.

  Still she drank him in, watching him while he kept his eyes focused on the winding road. She wanted to trace his jaw down to the cleft in his chin. She wanted to kiss his lips, and wondered how soft they would be against hers. What would it be like to snuggle with his big arms wrapped around her?

  He asked her easy questions, such as what were her favorite kinds of movies. She didn’t watch chick flicks or romantic anything anymore because she no longer believed in happily-ever-afters. She didn’t say why, but it was because of Salvatore and her marriage to him.

  Trace, too, wasn’t crazy about chick flicks or romances. He did appreciate comedies, including Jim Carrey’s and David Spade’s brand of what Christie deemed “guy humor.” Trace enjoyed drama and thrillers, but thanks to all that was happening, like getting shot, Christie had lost her taste for them, at least for the time being.

  Neither one of them liked horror movies. They both were into fantasy, like the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy, and sword and sandals movies, of which Gladiator was number one on their lists. They shared a wicked delight in TV shows such as The Walking Dead and Dexter. Trace almost looked sheepish when he admitted that he liked to watch American Idol, and she laughed as she said she did, too.

  By the time Trace told her they were near their destination, she was muc
h more relaxed. Any tension that might have existed between them was gone.

  Except for sexual tension. She didn’t know if it was all one-sided, her side, but sometimes he looked at her in a way that made her feel beautiful. It was as if he appreciated everything about her. She didn’t know if she was imagining it, or putting meaning where there was none, but whatever it was…she liked it.

  Chapter Five

  Trace eventually veered off of the main road onto a dirt road that could barely be seen. Christie wouldn’t have noticed it if she’d been driving.

  The SUV bounced over rocks and potholes, the terrain growing rougher as they traveled. Patches of snow lined the road, and it was starting to get dark.

  “You weren’t kidding when you said this place was isolated.” She gritted her teeth as they were jostled in the vehicle and her arm ached.

  “You should feel safe here.” He glanced at her. “Maybe you should take the Percocet. You look like you could use it.”

  She shrugged. “Once we get to the cabin.” As she spoke, the road opened up into a small clearing with a log cabin at the back of it.

  He guided the SUV closer to the cabin. “Home sweet home for a few days.”

  “This looks nice.” She smiled at him. “I think I’m going to like this much better than being surrounded by Agent Stillwater and her minions. I mean agents.” She gave a little grin as she shook her head. “Seriously, I know they’re all doing their jobs and I do appreciate them. They’re all good men and women. I just like this better.”

  He flashed a grin at her. “I thought you might feel that way.”

  She couldn’t help a smile of her own as he parked in front of the cabin. It had a small porch with a weathered but sturdy-looking swing that was big enough for two. To the right was a massive pile of chopped firewood.

  “Do you take a lot of protected witnesses up here?” she asked.

  “You’re the first.” He leaned over the seat and grabbed her jacket along with his leather one.

  He helped her put the jacket around her shoulders and slide her good arm into the sleeve. He zipped it up over her arm that was still in its sling, and she was glad the jacket was big enough that there was no pressure on her arm.

  Once they were bundled up, Trace killed the engine before he jumped out and slammed the door behind him. He came around and helped her climb out.

  Immediately the cold chilled Christie’s cheeks and she stuffed her hand into a pocket. Her breath fogged in the air. It wasn’t as cold as it was back in Indiana, but it was certainly close.

  When she asked him, he handed her the purse she’d carried with her on the plane. He grabbed her suitcase and laptop bag and they headed toward the cabin. His legs were long but he walked at her pace. They reached the front door and he unlocked it and pushed it open.

  They walked inside and he closed the door behind them. He set her suitcase on the wood floor and she placed her purse on a small table nearby.

  She took off the ball cap and shook out her hair as she looked over the log cabin that had a bed, a small kitchen, and a round dining table. A couch and a couple of chairs were on the opposite side of the room, across from the bed. A fireplace was on the right wall. Coleman LED lanterns were on a couple of surfaces in the room.

  All of the furniture looked handmade from knotted wood. Two skylights were in the ceiling of the cabin, letting in the last of the day’s dying light. A door was in one corner of the room and she assumed it led to the bathroom.

  She set the ball cap on a hook on a tall, knotted wood hat and coat rack. A beat-up old Stetson was on the rack along with an old ball cap and a hat for cold weather with earmuffs. A well-worn jean jacket was also on the rack.

  The cabin was cold but it smelled good, unlike the musty odor she’d expected. She swung her gaze to meet his. “You must have stayed here not too long ago.”

  “I was here for a weekend a couple of weeks back.” He settled his hand on her shoulder. “I come up here every now and then to air it out and to escape into the woods.”

  “Did you spend your childhood in the mountains?” she asked.

  “I grew up on a ranch outside of Houston, not in the mountains, but I have an affinity for them.” He smiled. “Sometimes Dylan and Brooks come with me, but like I mentioned before, they’re the only two who know about this place.”

  She wasn’t in the least bit worried about the two men knowing Trace came up here.

  He squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll grab the bags and ice chest and be right back.”

  She nodded and cool air swirled into the cabin as he left and closed the door behind him. The place did offer some protection from the cold despite the fact it wasn’t heated at the moment.

  In no time, Trace returned and kicked the door shut after he set down the ice chest and the bags he’d grabbed out of the SUV.

  Her stomach rumbled and he grinned. “Ready for that canned chili and dried apples?”

  “You bet.” She pointed to the door on the far side of the room. “Bathroom?”

  “Make yourself at home.” He looked a little embarrassed as he gestured to where her one arm was beneath her jacket. “Need any help?”

  Holding back a smile, she shook her head. “I’m good.”

  She walked into the bathroom. She was surprised that it had a lot of the amenities bathrooms usually had. He must have had a septic tank put in and had a source for water. Another skylight was overhead, giving enough light to see by.

  It was awkward with one arm, but she took care of business. It would be easier when the cabin was heated and she wasn’t wearing a jacket.

  When she had finished and washed her hands in the cold water in the sink, she dried them on a hand towel hanging up near the vanity case in front of her. She stopped long enough to see that she looked like she could use a nap. She had dark circles under her eyes and she was tired. Her arm throbbed. After she’d gotten something into her stomach, he probably wouldn’t mind letting her curl up on the couch.

  She walked out of the bathroom and closed the door behind her. The Coleman lanterns on the table and the coffee table were both lit and glowing.

  Trace was crouched in front of the stone fireplace, putting a log on the fire that he’d started in a big metal grate. He stirred the fire with the iron poker. A large stack of chopped wood was next to the fireplace along with a wire basket filled with kindling and a bucket for ashes.

  “Sorry about the cold water.” He looked over his shoulder. “Warm water and electricity are the two things I don’t have up here.”

  “I don’t mind.” She smiled, still hugging her jacket to her until the heat generated by the burning wood in the fireplace could warm the room. “Is there anything I can do?”

  The fire was growing and he set down the poker before getting to his feet. “You can watch me make our gourmet dinner.”

  “I can help.” With her good hand, she grabbed the handle of the ice chest he had brought in and pulled it into the little kitchen area.

  He followed, carrying the grocery bags. He knelt in front of the cooler, opened it, and brought out a package of meat and another package with sliced cheese, along with condiments. He stood and set everything on the countertop before he leaned over and grabbed a loaf of bread out of a shopping bag.

  She grinned. “What happened to chili and dried apples?”

  “I thought sandwiches might be more appealing.” He opened the bag of bread. “Mayo or mustard on smoked turkey?”

  Her stomach growled again as she got paper plates out of one of the grocery bags and set them on the countertop before reaching for a package of napkins. “I like both mustard and mayo.”

  He picked up a butter knife. “Coming right up.”

  She set the napkins on the countertop and studied him. “Why are you doing this for me?”

  He shrugged. “It’s my job.”

  She knew she was pushing, but she wanted to know. “That’s not all of it.”

  His mouth quirked into a lit
tle grin. “I had such a relaxing time protecting you the last time that I thought I’d try it out again.”

  She couldn’t help a laugh. The last time he’d protected her had been anything but relaxing.

  “I like your hair.” He was clearly trying to change the subject.

  She put her hand to the back of her head where the hair was shorter. “I’ve never had it any way but long.”

  He gave her a look that made her feel beautiful. “It suits you.”

  She smiled. “Thanks.”

  The fire in the fireplace was doing a great job of taking the chill out of the room. Trace helped her take off her jacket and then he removed his own before putting them both on the hat and coat rack.

  Her arm was throbbing like crazy, so she decided she’d go ahead and take the meds for pain. She grabbed the container out of her purse and took one of the tablets out before putting the bottle back.

  When Trace finished making sandwiches, he reached into the cooler that also had ice, bottled water, sodas, beer, and Chardonnay. “What would you like to drink? I can make coffee or hot chocolate if you want something warm.”

  “Water.” She took the water bottle he offered her. The cold, wet plastic chilled her hand. She opened the bottle as she spoke. “I’d better stay away from the wine while I’m on the meds. Maybe tomorrow.” She swallowed the pain med.

  “Have a seat on the couch.” He nodded toward it. “It’s more relaxing than sitting at the table, and it’s closer to the fireplace.”

  “I’m all for more relaxing and keeping warm.” She headed to the couch where she set her water on the simple coffee table made with knotted wood like the other furniture in the cabin.

  When he joined her on the couch, he placed a plate of sandwiches and another water bottle on the coffee table. He sat close to her on the couch and his nearness sent a storm of dragonflies battering around her belly.

  He raised his bottle of water. “To turkey sandwiches and water with a lovely woman.”

  She grinned and bumped her plastic bottle against his before taking a sip.