Delaney’s black brow furrowed. “Are you always this controlling?”
“Usually no need,” he replied. “Most people I deal with have more sense. But you, you’re like an angry honey badger running around the desert.”
“A what?”
Nick grinned. “A honey badger. Craziest animal I ever saw. Chases venomous snakes across the desert floor like nobody’s business.” He laughed and added, “Though when she’s bitten by her prey, she can become downright docile.” Nick gently tugged at Sadie’s bit and walked off ahead of her. He imagined Delaney to be contemplating an attack of her own at the moment, but it couldn’t be helped. She was a stubborn one and required a patient hand, but she could benefit from a strong hand, too. Whether she was willing to admit it or not, Delaney had been spooked by those men and more so than her horse. When he first saw her, Nick recognized the blank look for what it was. Fright. Something happened out there and it scared her, but for some reason she wasn’t revealing details. That man clearly believed she had something he wanted. Did she know what it was?
Delaney caught up with him and, with a decidedly calmer tone, asked, “May I walk my own horse, please?”
Nick looked askance. “Oh, I don’t know.” He stroked the mare’s muscular neck. “Sadie seems pretty happy in my hands.”
“She’s my horse,” Delaney snarled and yanked at the reins in his hands.
Nick allowed her the small victory. Demoralizing Delaney wasn’t the goal. Keeping her safe was.
He followed as Delaney led the way through the woods. Leaves sat suspended from branches overhead, hovering in the air above them as they walked, dense enough to block most of the sunlight. It made this section of the forest quiet, peaceful. Soft pillows of leaves blanketed the forest floor to either side of the trail, punctuated by black logs rotted by years of decay. The faint sound of creek water could be heard down below. To him, it felt like they were strolling through a cavern, the air rich with the musky scent of nature. It would make for a memorable hike for his hotel guests.
With two long strides, Nick caught up with Delaney, Sadie’s hooves rhythmic and steady as she walked at Delaney’s side, her head bobbing in cadence, with the occasional shake to her mane. It made him miss his horses back in Montana.
“Thank you for saving me back there,” Delaney murmured. “I didn’t expect him to be waiting at my horse.”
“No?” The surprise apology heightened Nick’s awareness of Delaney’s femininity. Add the close proximity, the privacy of their situation and his impulse was to touch her, to brush the hair from her neck and wrap his arm around her slim shoulders. But he didn’t. Not yet. “You seemed pretty concerned about her. Which makes no sense unless you knew that man might turn up.”
“I was—and I did,” Delaney underscored. “Sadie has been with me since she was a foal. If anything happened to her, I’d die—right after I killed the bastard who hurt her.”
Surprised by the degree of vengeance in her voice, Nick merely agreed. “You’ve raised a beauty,” he admired, and patted her rear.
“She is.”
Nick wanted to probe. He wanted to know why Delaney had been hiking in the woods with a backpack, why she carried a camera, why she exited the woods on the far side instead of where she hitched her horse. But he didn’t ask—there’d be time enough for that later. “Where’s Felicity?” he asked, casually changing the subject.
“At a friend’s house. Thankfully,” Delaney added.
“Good. You expect her home soon?”
She doused him with an eyeful of suspicion. “Why?”
Nick indulged her with a reticent smile. “I’m concerned for her safety. She should know there’s the potential for danger in the forest.”
“She does,” Delaney snapped, then instantly retreated. She heaved a sigh and slowed, tilting her face up to him. Brown eyes softened with motherly concern. “I told her not to go out alone until further notice.”
“This isn’t the first run-in with these gentlemen, I take it?”
“Second.”
Nick approved the contrite tone to her answer. Maybe he could get through to her after all. “Wise of you to counsel her against it.”
She flipped him a nod in thanks.
Nick trailed her to the stables and watched as Delaney executed her duties without remark. She handled the horses with gentle authority, cleared the center corridor of horse crap without fuss, the pungent scent permeating his nostrils as she rolled it by in her wheelbarrow. Delaney didn’t dawdle, but performed every task with the efficiency of routine. “Finished,” she announced. Swiping the back of her hand across her forehead, she slung the backpack over her shoulder and looked to him. “Should I assume you’re escorting me back to the house?”
Pleased with her acquiescence, Nick replied, “You should.”
“Yay,” she mumbled.
As she walked past him on her way out, he detected the sweat and dirt clinging to her person. Drawn to her rear end, he mused with satisfaction. It only gets better from here, my dear.
Chapter Twelve
Nick made repeated attempts at conversation on the way back to Ernie’s cabin, but Delaney was having none of it. There was no way she was going to reveal her discovery to him. She would handle those men through Clem—once she decided on a strategy for attack. Having Nick Harris poke around her business would be nothing but a nuisance.
“Okay, so thanks again,” Delaney said, walking backwards away from him. She offered a meager wave. “Appreciate everything you did, but I’ve got to get home.”
“Your place up there?” he asked, gesturing toward her cabin on the ridge above.
Startled, Delaney almost didn’t reply. “Uh, yes. It is.”
“Good to know.” His posture relaxed as he tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, shirttails still hanging loose around his waist. “I’m going to hang out tonight, keep an eye on things.”
She nearly stumbled and stopped suddenly. “What?”
Nick casually perused their surroundings and nodded. “I don’t want him coming back and finishing what he started.”
Urgency kicked at her. “That won’t be necessary, I assure you—”
He silenced her protest with a hand. “I believe it is.”
“Mr. Harris, really, there’s no need.”
His expression sobered. All trace of humor vanished. “You had a run in with some pretty unsavory characters, Ms. Wilkins. When a man points a gun at me, I believe he means business. I’m willing to bet that man won’t stop until you give him whatever it is he wants.”
Delaney’s temper re-ignited. He won’t get a thing from me. “I appreciate your offer, but like I said, it won’t be necessary.”
Nick crossed arms over his chest and asked, “Do you know what he’s after?”
“No,” she answered, a tad too quickly. Delaney ran a hand over her head, around the cotton hairband of her ponytail, then dropped it to the strap of her backpack. Catching movement from the corner of her eye, she flashed to Ernie’s cabin to see Albert ambling out onto the porch.
Her grip on the flat strap tightened. Great. Delaney took a step toward her cabin, but then turned back to Nick. With a tip of her head toward the main house, she said, “I think there are enough people around, the man won’t attempt anything here.” It was one thing to fire at her in the woods where there wasn’t a soul around. It was quite another to do so within range of potential witnesses.
“I think you’re underestimating him.” Nick’s gaze tightened on her. “Why?”
“Why?” She dropped her gaze to the ground beneath him, sidestepping his penetrating glare. “Just a hunch.” Besides, she couldn’t imagine the man would have the audacity to seek her out at home.
“Women’s intuition, huh?”
She lifted her gaze to meet his. “Yeah, something like that.”
Nick smiled. “Just the same, I think I’ll stay.”
“But you have no right!”
&nbs
p; “You can always call the police.”
The man knew darn well she didn’t want the police involved.
When she didn’t reply, Nick said, “So it’s settled.”
“No, it’s not settled,” she snapped. But did she have a choice? Delaney checked the sports watch on her wrist. Four o’clock. Clearly, the events of the day had taken their toll. She was hot, tired. It was getting late. She rolled her eyes toward the open section of sky, the late afternoon sun casting a veneer of yellow-gold over blue. Gold.
Delaney heaved a sigh. The prospect was thrilling and complicating at the same time and she needed time to think. She dropped her head back to face Nick, hauled the backpack further up her shoulder and said, “Fine. But will you do me a favor and stay out of sight of my daughter? I don’t want her to get the wrong idea, or anything...” The quick warmth to her cheeks bothered her, as did the smile forming on his lips.
He chuckled. “Wouldn’t think of it.”
Delaney grunted. Trudging off in the direction of her cabin, she focused on the night ahead. The men from the woods didn’t know where she lived. They only knew where her horse had been. Would they contact Clem? A sliver of doubt scampered through her. Would he tell them where to find her? Delaney slowly turned her head for a second look at Nick.
Nick acknowledged her with a slight nod of his head, and Delaney turned away. Maybe having him close by wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Climbing up the hill, Delaney plodded in the front door of her cabin. She flicked the lights on and deposited the backpack onto the kitchen counter. Mentally hitting the rewind button on the day, she recalled how close she came to getting shot. A mild shudder raced up her back. The man had shot at her and his bullet had been close. Too close.
But she hadn’t been hit. She was okay. Retrieving the camera from her pack, Delaney leaned her hip against the counter and scrolled through the photos. As she zoomed in on several, the first release from the trauma began to take hold. She could breathe easy. She could relax. She pressed a button and scrutinized an image. She could decipher the man, his build. She could pick him out of a line up, if she had to. The pictures weren’t great, but they were good enough for visual ID.
Relief streamed through her. The risk had been worth it.
Delaney laid the camera on to the counter. Looking back, she’d known there was an element of danger involved. But peering down at the tiny screen of her camera, she had also known she would get nowhere without photographic evidence. It was her only chance at stopping them, dead in their tracks. Dead in their tracks. The thought hit close to home. Too close.
Suddenly, she remembered the phone call that had sent everything spiraling out of control. She’d never checked her messages. Delaney yanked open the backpack and grabbed the cell phone. A voicemail from Felicity. Her heart leaped. Quickly, she jabbed at images on the screen until she was listening to the message. Delaney closed her eyes. Thank God, it hadn’t been an emergency. Felicity wanted to stay the night at her friend’s house. Under the circumstances, it was perfect timing. Now there would be no need to explain Nick’s presence on the property after dark.
Delaney called her daughter, and after a brief chat, felt almost normal. Only her sweat-stained shirt and filthy jeans remained grim reminders that she needed a hot shower and she needed it now. With only a passing thought to Nick, she strolled into her bedroom, disrobed and stepped into her shower. With warm water streaming over her body, she closed her eyes and breathed in deep and full. Actually, it was kinda nice knowing that Prince Harris was standing guard tonight. Inundated with a spattering of nerves, she grinned. Even if it was a silly, outdated notion, it was nice to know a big strong man was watching out for her.
An hour later, Delaney poured herself a glass of red wine, then walked to the sofa. It was the rare treat she allowed herself when Felicity wasn’t home. She drank in private, not because she was ashamed, but because she wanted to set a good example for her daughter. Jack Foster had been a drinker. He’d been a hard drinker, and it had affected his behavior in undesirable ways. Delaney wasn’t sure if Felicity remembered those days—those awful, violent days—but she wasn’t about to take the chance. There would be no association between her loving mother and her alcoholic father. None.
No sooner had Delaney sat than she abandoned the sofa for the window. She nudged the curtain aside and peered outside. It was dark, a near moonless night. Her porch light was on, cutting her ability to see down the trail to any extent, making for an obscured approach, if one was so inclined. Was Nick there? Did he mean what he said about not leaving her alone?
She closed the curtain. If Clem did have a notion to come after her, she would be ready. Delaney spied the dishcloth, her fully-loaded pistol partially hidden beneath. Inhaling against the sudden fluttering of her heart, she understood that self-preservation came first.
As she idled in the center of the living room, her stomach growled, sharp and lingering. She realized she was famished. When was the last time she ate? Startled by the realization it had been a single granola bar for breakfast, she went straight to the refrigerator.
Outside, Nick Harris walked the perimeter of Ernie’s cabin before heading up to Delaney’s cabin. A light was on inside, but there was no sound. Was the old man asleep? At nine o’clock, he might be. Didn’t appear he had anything else to do. There was no television antennae attached to his roof and he didn’t strike Nick as a reader. Ernie Ladd was a smoker and a hothead, with little else going for him. Other than this beautiful property. Nick glanced up at Delaney’s cabin. Speaking of beautiful...
Desire stirred in his loins. A beautiful woman was up there alone. Felicity’s car wasn’t parked out front, which meant she wasn’t home. Through the dense cover of trees, Nick could see dots of lights emanating from her cabin. What was she doing? Nick lit the ground with a flashlight he picked up at a hardware store in town and made his way closer. He could hear the creek before he saw it, lifting his light to illuminate the rickety wooden bridge. Wandering over it, fast moving water caught the white beams from his light.
Swiping a quick flash of light around him, he extinguished it. Committing the layout of the terrain to memory, he headed to a large tree—one that marked the way straight up to Delaney’s cabin. Leaning into the rough bark, he settled into the night. The rhythmic vibration of katydids pulsated loudly against a steady stream of higher-pitched crickets, with the occasional frog piping in. Other than nature at work, he detected no sounds, no movement. Nothing. It was a lonesome sound, but it was a sound that called to him. No stranger to the night forest, he used to camp for days at a time in the rugged landscape of the Rocky Mountains with his father and knew the sounds of serenity well. He and his dad would hunt by day, drink whiskey by night, share stories around the flames of a campfire.
His father’s stories usually centered on his own youth, a litany of his adventures and without fail he wound a history lesson into the mix. Indians, pioneers, trains, industry titans... Pleasure rolled through Nick. Those were good days. Simple joys for a simple time in his life. His horizons didn’t expand until after he built his first hotel, one he built outside his hometown.
Nick recalled the days and nights spent designing, building, dreaming up new ways to work his masterpiece into the mountainous land that was a part of him. Living at one with nature had been ingrained in his mindset from the beginning. His mother worked a summer garden every year, and he worked right alongside her. From seed to harvest, he learned every step of the process, could identify plants based on their leaf shape, their smell—even count the days to corn harvest from the first sign of yellow-green silk. His mom used to laugh at him, calling him a perfectionist in the making.
Fond feelings washed through him. She was right. He was a perfectionist. His father taught him a different side of the land. With the right tools and a tree, Nick could craft the finest piece of furniture, throw up a structure from floor to roof, with enough wood left over to make a fire in the hearth. The
backyard shed had been his first solo project and the thing stood to this day. Quality came from basic materials and sturdy construction. It was a lesson that stuck with him. Build it right the first time and you won’t have to mess with it again. From day one, Nick demanded the finest in materials be used to construct his properties. He expected his staff to deliver top-notch service to his guests. And his women...
He rolled an eye upward through the black of night. He only spent time with the most beautiful, intelligent creatures on the Planet Earth. Made no sense to waste time with anything less. Though “obstinate” was a new trait for his roster. He’d dated headstrong women before, independent thinkers with a definite mind of their own, and he enjoyed them, enjoyed the challenge they presented. But obstinate?
Nick laughed softly. Delaney Wilkins was obstinate to a damn near fault! She was almost foolhardy, the way she dismissed his protection. His senses sharpened. The woman was in danger, there was no mistaking it. Convincing her of the same was proving to be the challenge.
Making his way up the trail toward her cabin, Nick kept his footsteps light. If trouble showed up tonight, he wanted no distance between himself and Delaney. The man on the trail this afternoon had a decidedly determined look in his eye. He wanted something and Nick would bet his life Delaney knew what that something was. She was no innocent in the matter, he was sure of it. And where she seemed to have recovered from her harrowing experience—whatever it might be—she refused to share the cause with him.
But it was exactly that cause which put her life in danger.
Nick hiked the steep path. Emerging from the forest at the top, he paused to catch his breath. One thing about city life, it robbed the body of physical fitness. Venturing out onto the open trail, he assessed Delaney’s cabin to be a one-room floor plan, perhaps with the addition of a loft—certainly no bigger than a two-car garage. He marveled at the diminutive size. The two of them lived there?
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