Holding a Hero

by Layne, Lyssa

  “How much lead do you suppose that asshole has on us?” Johnny stared down the valley.

  Montana shrugged. “No idea. It depends on when he took the horses, how fast he’s moving alone…a lot of things.”

  “He better be hauling ass.”

  Montana untied the dun and looped the lead rope to the halter, making a rein. “Can you ride bareback?”

  Johnny’s trademark grin flashed across his face. “I’ve been known to a time or two.”

  Ignoring the flutter in her stomach, Montana indicated the horse. “Get on. I’ll hold your rifle until you’re set.”

  Johnny handed her his gun and the saddlebags and swung onto the horse like he’d been doing it all his life.

  Montana handed him his items, along with her gun. “Hold these until I get on, okay?”

  “No problem.”

  Montana jumped onto her horse and leaned over to untie the mule from the tree. She unsnapped his lead, leaving on his halter. He’d follow them home.

  After coiling the rope, she stuffed it into her coat pocket and took the scabbard back from Johnny. With a touch of her heels, she turned Sunflower toward camp. It wasn’t far, less than an hour’s ride.

  She had one night left with Johnny.

  After everything that had happened, she was sure he would want to leave early. But it was too late tonight. By the time they reached camp, it would be mid-afternoon and Montana still had to return to the Marshes’ cabin to retrieve their saddles.

  She sighed. Another long day and night ahead.

  Hopefully Johnny would stay at their camp while she went back for their saddles and sleeping bags. If she put a little distance between them, maybe she could gain some perspective and not be in a constant state of upheaval.

  To have a little dignity in front of him before he went home was her main goal at this point. He’d seen her naked, both physically and emotionally. She couldn’t bear him seeing more unrequited love. If she weren’t careful she’d end up in one of his songs as the latest fool who fell for the rock star.

  ~*~

  Montana reined in at the edge of the meadow and stared in disbelief. “Damn.”

  “Fuck!” The word shot out of Johnny’s mouth like a bullet.

  After sliding from Sunflower’s back, Montana walked forward. Johnny, still mounted, followed.

  Their camp had been strewn across the meadow like trash. It looked like a tornado had torn through everything. The big cook tent lay upside down near the hot springs. The smaller one had been shredded and came to rest against the copse of aspen trees at the edge of the pasture. Coolers lay open, their contents scattered everywhere. Shannon’s Dutch oven, canned goods, tin plates and silverware looked like they had been flung by a lunatic. A light dusting of snow lay over everything.

  What was left of their food was so badly mangled it wasn’t edible. Scavengers had dragged away most of it, but a pair of camp robber birds sat enjoying a loaf of bread.

  “Did that bear we saw the other day do this?” Johnny looked as disgusted as Montana felt.

  “I don’t think so.” She stopped and turned in a slow circle. “This looks more like an act of rage than a bear looking for a meal.”

  Johnny slid down from Gunsmoke. “Your ex capable of this sort of destruction?”

  Faced with irrefutable evidence, Montana nodded. “I guess so. I just can’t believe he would do any of this. He used to be a womanizer, but this makes no sense. He doesn’t care enough about me to go to these lengths.”

  “And they talk about rock stars trashing hotel rooms.” Johnny shook his head. “The guy’s fucked up.”

  “I may never find everything.” Despair began to crawl over Montana. This entire hunt had been one disaster after another—Adrian’s illness, the missing horses and now this.

  “Sure you will. We’ve got all day.”

  Montana managed a grim smile. “And night, I guess.”

  “I might have other plans for tonight.” Johnny wiggled his eyebrows, making Montana’s heart do a twist and turn. Although conditions might not be ideal, she still had one last evening with him.

  Just keep it light, she reminded herself.

  Though Johnny didn’t want her to depend on him, she was quickly learning to turn in his direction when things got tough. She spun away and led Sunflower toward the hitch rail. “I can make hobbles out of halter ropes.”

  She fixed the ropes around the three equines’ legs and turned them loose to graze. With a sigh, she looked around. “I don’t know where to start,” she admitted. “The cook tent, I guess.”

  Together, she and Johnny walked to the big tent. Montana cursed when she bent and grabbed a corner. Not only had the tent been torn from the platform and dragged through snow and mud, it had been shredded as if ripped apart with a knife. There was no salvaging it.

  Leaving the destroyed tent where it lay, they moved to the smaller sleep tent. Someone had treated it in a similar fashion. She sank to her haunches and lifted a corner. “I don’t know how I’m going to replace these. They cost a fortune.”

  “I’ll buy you new ones,” Johnny said. “Whatever you want.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Montana protested. “It’s not your responsibility.” Her heart thudded painfully. Was he buying her off? A gift for a good time? “I should give you a refund for all the troubles you’ve had.”

  He laughed rich and deep. “Holy shit, woman. I’ve had the time of my life here. I haven’t had this much fun in forever. Besides, this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t opened my mouth and pissed off somebody.” He grinned evilly. “I’m good at that.”

  She couldn’t disagree with him. Right now she’d have liked to slug him in the gut.

  “It’s not your problem. I’m not your problem, remember?” She took a shuddering breath, pushed her angry thoughts away and looked around at her things scattered to hell and back. “I better get busy. It’s not getting any earlier.” She stood and grabbed one of the blue coolers. “I’ll put dishes and silverware in this one.”

  Johnny chose another cooler. “I’ll look for any food that’s edible.”

  “Even if it isn’t good we can’t leave it lying around, or we’ll have a bear down here for a picnic.” She spotted a package of trash bags and tossed them his way.

  He caught the box. “Speaking of food, how about I build a fire and we make coffee?”

  Coffee sounded wonderful. “Good plan. I’ll see if I can find grounds and the pot.”

  They walked in circles searching the debris.

  Montana lifted a baggie in triumph. “Here’s the grounds.”

  “I see the coffeepot.” Johnny picked it up and made his way toward the plywood floors—about the only thing not destroyed—where he set down the pot and gathered rocks.

  Seeing he planned to make a fire ring near the floors, Montana jumped to help. In a few minutes a fire blazed. Montana added a few bottles of water and grounds to the charred coffeepot.

  While the coffee boiled, they continued to work. Montana’s throat tightened when she found the mug that had been her dad’s. What would he think of this whole mess? He would have her back. He always had. Although he might raise a brow at the man she’d fallen for, he’d support her.

  She carried the cup to the fire and poured steaming coffee into it, rinsed and re-filled. Johnny joined her with his own cup and filled it.

  “I think I’ve rounded up all the food. You finding your stuff?”

  “Yeah.” She sipped, sighing as the hot liquid hit her stomach. “Most of it. We’re going to have to leave anything I’ve missed though. It’s getting late.” She drank again. “It’s a long ride to the trailhead and another ten miles to the ranch after that. We’re talking about an all-nighter.”

  For once Johnny didn’t make a crack about being up all night. Maybe he was as bone tired as her. “What about your stuff back at the cabin? Wouldn’t it be closer to go there?”

  Montana nodded. “It is, but it’s snowing u
p high—”

  “Then my vote is to go to the cabin and get your stuff before it gets snowed in,” Johnny said. “We can eat something, get a good night’s sleep and ride out early tomorrow.”

  He made sense.

  Although she didn’t need her saddles or bedrolls until spring, leaving them didn’t sit well with her. Neither did riding back into the face of the storm.

  However, they had to do something. Staying here with no shelter wasn’t an option. Although she just wanted him to leave so she could begin to try to forget him, the shorter ride swayed her. Montana tossed the last bit of coffee onto the fire. “Cabin it is.”

  Johnny rose and began stacking coolers on the plywood floors while Montana hurried to catch the horses. By the time he tugged the blue tarp over the mounds of coolers and stoves, she had the horses haltered and ready to go.

  With a weary sigh, Montana mounted her palomino. She held their weapons while Johnny swung aboard Gunsmoke. This time the mule didn’t want to go and Montana had to lead him.

  Busy urging the tired, reluctant horse to go back up the mountain, and dragging an even less enthusiastic mule behind her, Montana didn’t notice Sunflower’s unease until he flicked his ears and snorted soft little blows through his nose.

  Reining in, Montana looked around. In the pines, with dark closing in, the environment creeped her out a little. They were close to the place they’d spotted the bear. She placed a hand on Sunflower’s neck. “What’s bothering you?”

  “Something wrong?”

  She glanced over her shoulder at Johnny. “Sunflower’s nervous. I think that bear might be around.”

  “Shouldn’t they be hibernating by now?” He reached for his scabbard slung across his back. “Are we in danger?”

  “He’s late to den up, but I don’t think we’re in harm’s way. Still, let’s move out of here.” She tapped the horse’s sides with her heels. This time the mule didn’t drag his hooves and moved right along when Montana tugged his lead rope.

  Paying attention now, Montana began scouting for tracks. She kept her eye on the ground, looking for bear signs, although it was somewhat futile under the inch of snow. A bear wasn’t likely to attack, but she wasn’t willing to surprise a grumpy creature to find out.

  At the edge of a small stream, more of a trickle, she found what she’d been looking for—a set of large bear tracks pressed into the mud.

  “Our bear was here,” she told Johnny.

  “He still is.” Johnny pointed.

  Montana swiveled her head to the right. Why hadn’t the horses alerted her? As nervous as they’d acted, it seemed odd that they hadn’t warned her the bear was nearby.

  She watched the large brown bear amble away from them as casually as though he was out on an evening stroll. Maybe he was. Either way, he meant them no harm.

  Had he torn up the camp?

  Possible, not probable.

  In all her life, no bear had ever bothered them there. Not at camp, not in the wilderness. Montana could see a hungry animal getting into their food, but strewing silverware and cookware around made no sense. The shredded tents, too, just didn’t add up. Maybe if the animal was rabid, but obviously it wasn’t.

  The culprit had to be Tom.

  She pulled her thoughts back when Johnny spoke. “That bear’s worse than the paparazzi,” he said. “Always stalking me.”

  “Looks to me like he’s running away,” she said. “Not toward you.”

  “That’s because he’s got his picture and he’s racing to the tabloids to sell it before the raccoons beat him to it.”

  Montana laughed at the image of all the forest animals galloping to sell a picture to the news rags. “That so?”

  “Yup.” He turned serious. “It’s been fantastic not having to deal with those lowlifes lurking behind every tree and bush.”

  “You’ll be seeing them again soon enough.” The reminder that he had to go home the next day saddened Montana. Her heart felt like a big lump of dried up Colorado clay.

  “Actually, I’m more worried about my ex than the paps.” Johnny adjusted his rifle. “If Teal managed to break in again and found me not there, no telling what she might have done.”

  Montana stared at him in disbelief. “You mean to tell me she’d destroy your house?”

  “That’s what I mean.”

  “That’s insane.”

  The dun shifted and Johnny lifted his rope-rein. “Did you think your ex would tear up your hunting camp? Or steal your horses?”

  “No.”

  He let that sit.

  Even though she’d seen the evidence with her own eyes and picked up the mess, Montana still had a hard time believing Tom had so much animosity toward her. As a Denver Broncos fan, she couldn’t help but see him on TV and in the sports pages. Since their breakup he’d been linked to one woman after another. She couldn’t believe she mattered to him all these years later.

  Maybe his actions had been a matter of opportunity for revenge more than anything else.

  A mystery she planned to unravel after she got home. Right now, she had to get them to the safety of the cabin. Lifting her rope-rein, she turned Sunflower in that direction.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Montana slid from Sunflower’s back with a tired sigh.

  Johnny also dismounted and strode toward the cabin to retrieve the hobbles for the horses. While she unsaddled, he returned carrying the leather straps. Without waiting, he bent and fastened them around the equines’ legs. “I hope you guys will be here in the morning.”

  “Amen to that.” With a last pat, Montana turned them loose to graze. She glanced in Johnny’s direction. “As tired as they are, it’s unlikely they’ll go anywhere. I don’t know about you, but I’m done in, too.”

  “Let’s go inside and I’ll build a fire.” Johnny placed his hand on her lower back. Although her nerves jumped, Montana steeled herself. If Johnny thought coming back here, where they’d made love, meant it would happen again, he was sadly mistaken.

  She was sleeping alone tonight.

  For all she cared, Johnny could cuddle up with the horses.

  Inside the cabin, Montana lit a lantern while Johnny built a fire. With light and warmth filling the room, her exhaustion intensified. Weary beyond words, she picked up her sleeping bag and spread it on the same bunk she’d used before.

  Closing her eyes for just a few minutes was a temptation too great to resist and she stretched out, too tired to take off even her coat or boots.

  Within moments she slept.

  ~*~

  When soft snores came from Montana, Johnny covered her with one of the blankets from his bedroll. He was tired, too. But the events of the day kept playing in his head.

  The near-accident on the top of the cliff where Montana had nearly fallen came to mind. His balls had jumped into his throat when he saw the wind catch her and make her flap her arms like a bird about to take off from its perch. If he hadn’t gotten hold of her and dragged her back from the ledge, she would have died.

  A shudder played a riff up and down his back.

  As he’d held her, she’d stopped short of declaring her love for him, but her feelings had been on full display. He’d reverted to form and said something shitty without meaning to. He’d opened his mouth to take back his stupid words, but it’d been too late, the damage done.

  By now he’d think he would have learned she was a different breed than he’d ever met before. When he forgot and hurt her, he instantly wanted to kick his own ass. He wanted to leave here on good terms. There was no future for him and Montana, but maybe they could be friends.

  He snorted.

  The altitude must have him turning delusional. He didn’t want to be friends with a woman he’d fucked. He either wanted a current lover or an ex. Not a buddy to jog with or meet at Starbucks for coffee. If he wanted to bullshit about music, sports or chicks he had buddies for that. He didn’t want to text or Skype about clothes or nail polish with a chick.

>   In his experience, a woman claiming they could be friends after sex always wanted more than he could give. They always ended up angry and frustrated with him. Friendships quickly soured. Better to make a clean break from the jump instead of dragging it out to something ugly.

  Although he hated hurting Montana when she’d done nothing to deserve it, leaving Colorado with her angry at him would be better than her pining for things he couldn’t give.

  The thought left a bad taste in his mouth and he desperately wished for vodka to wash it away. Trouble was he had none.

  Maybe food would help the urge to drown his misery in booze.

  He rummaged in the cupboards and found a couple cans of vegetable soup and a box of saltines. They would do to fill his empty belly. He dumped the soup into a pan and placed it on the stove.

  After his meal boiled, he found a spoon in a drawer, sat at the table, crumbled some crackers over the soup and ate from the pan. He hadn’t known how hungry he was until the aroma of simple canned soup hit his nose. Lifting his spoon, he dug in, as happy as though he were dining at one of L.A.’s best eateries.

  Montana never stirred.

  She was out for the night. He ought to wake her to at least take off her coat and boots, but she looked so peaceful he hated to disturb her.

  With a sigh, he pushed the empty pan aside and stretched his legs out toward the fire. Folding his hands over his full abdomen, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Like Montana, he was too tired to remove his boots.

  Later.

  Content and warm, he just wanted to rest for a few minutes.

  ~*~

  Montana choked from air so thick with smoke she couldn’t see or breathe. Eyes welling with tears, she stumbled toward the stove. “Johnny! Get up!”

  He appeared through the haze. “I’m here.”

  “The cabin’s on fire. We gotta get out of here.” Montana grabbed his hand and they rushed toward the door.