Gray Wolf Security: Wyoming

by Glenna Sinclair

  "Have you said anything?"

  Mabel shook her head. "I told them it was something to do with Gray Wolf. But they saw the campers come back. Cassidy keeps asking about her mother."

  She nodded. "I have to go," she said to Bodhi, doing everything she could not to look at him.

  "Of course," he said. "If you don't mind, I'd like to stop by again tomorrow."

  Sutherland paused in the doorway, aware of Mabel's eyes on her, even more aware of the hope in his question.

  "I think it would be better if you didn't."

  She walked away, her hands shaking, as she prepared to explain to Cassidy that her mother was on the run for reasons they didn't understand and that she might never come home again.

  What a lovely end to a lovely day.

  Chapter 14

  Becky

  He was still there when I woke, his body pressed tight against mine. A part of me had believed he wouldn't be there, that the whole episode had been a hypothermia induced fantasy. But he was there, my dark prince, his arm securely locked around my waist.

  I lifted his hand and pressed his palm to my lips, sighing as the scent of him washed over me. I regretted keeping him at arm's length all this time. We could have lain like this every night. I could have woken in his arms every morning. We could have been happy.

  But then, happiness stop being an option for me a long time ago.

  He sighed as he slowly swam up toward consciousness, his hips moving against mine. I could feel his arousal before he was even fully aware of it himself. But then he was, his hand moving over my belly, his fingers seeking out places that were still sore from the night before. He slid inside of me without much preamble, moving with a slow, easy rhythm that was almost hypnotic. He took my hand, interlaced our fingers, and held me tight as he made me his.

  This odd desire to cry overwhelmed me when it was over. I rolled toward him and buried my face against his chest.

  "It's going to be okay," he said, the rumble of his voice vibrating through his chest and against my face. "I'm going to make this okay for you."

  "No one can make this okay for me."

  "We can try."

  I pulled away, reaching down inside the tangle of the bedroll for my jeans. His came out first, so I tossed them onto his chest and grabbed mine. I was dressed in a matter of seconds, shivering inside my heavy jacket. I moved automatically, going through the motions of living, pulling water—that was frozen solid—and trail mix from the saddlebags so that we could have a little something for breakfast. I swallowed two handfuls of the nut and chocolate mixture even though my stomach felt as though it were tied into multiple knots, leaving no place for the food to go.

  Lance dressed, too, rolling up the bedroll and reattaching it to the bottom of my saddlebag. He ate as I saddled the horses, annoyed with myself that I hadn't done more to keep the water from turning into ice so that we could, at the very least, offer a little to these beautiful creatures. But what was done was done. Hopefully we'd come across a stream that wasn't frozen over on our ride today.

  If we got out of here before Kennedy caught up to us.

  "Does he have as much outdoor experience as you do? Does he know how to stay warm during the night?"

  He wasn't looking at me. He was keeping himself busy repacking the saddlebags even though they really hadn't needed that much organization. I pulled hard at the billet strap as I finished securing my saddle on Lincoln's back.

  "I don't know. I don't think so. He's more of an urban kind of guy."

  "Then there's a chance he didn't survive the night as well as we did."

  I snorted. "He probably drove back into town and stayed in comfortable motel bed. He's not stupid, either."

  Lance nodded, the muscles in his jaw flexing. He was angry, but I wasn't sure why. I wasn't sure I wanted to know why.

  We left a few minutes later, mounting our horses and riding through the woods back into the brush. We were about twenty minutes into our ride when I thought I could hear the sounds of a motorized vehicle. I turned around in my saddle, telling myself it was impossible. The ground was frozen solid. No one could have tracked us. Yet... there was the rumble of an engine behind us, and no one should have been out here. Not even us.

  Lance pulled his horse up beside Lincoln and reached over, touched my leg. I pulled back on the reins and we both slowed to a walk.

  "Do you hear that?"

  I nodded as I ground my teeth, searching the landscape for a place to hide.

  "We should backtrack."

  I shook my head. "We'll shorten the distance between us."

  "You know the landscape, you know the horses. But this is my specialty. Trust me."

  I wanted to trust him. I wanted to believe that he could make everything right for me. I wanted to believe that just being here with him would make this nightmare finally disappear. But it'd been a long time since I'd trusted anyone and the last guy I trusted...well, that was him following behind us.

  Lance turned his horse around before I could respond. He was getting good with the horse, good at controlling it. I would have been proud of him if he wasn't heading in the direction of the motor noise.

  I had a second's debate. I really considered leaving without him, thought that I might make it if he was back there distracting Kennedy. But then I just couldn't do it. I couldn't turn my back on Lance after everything he'd done for me these last few days. He hadn't abandoned me. How could I abandon him?

  I pulled my horse around and raced back to the line of trees we'd just left.

  Lance was just inside the trees, on his feet. He'd tethered his horse several feet back, wrapping the reins around a low branch. I followed suit, calming Lincoln with a sugar cube I found deep in my jacket pocket.

  "I want you to go find a place to hide," Lance said as he searched through the saddlebag tied to my saddle.

  "What about you?"

  "Like I said, this is my expertise."

  He pulled out a handgun, holding it up as he checked the chamber. Guns make me nervous. I hadn't been this close to one in eleven years. I stepped back, my thoughts whirling...

  "He's an expert marksman," I said. "He'll cut you down before you can even get a shot off."

  "I was a sniper in the Army."

  "But this isn't the Army and that's not a sniper's rifle."

  Lance slid his hand around my neck, pulling me into him.

  "It's going to be okay," he said, calmer than I think I'd ever seen him. "I'll take care of this. You go hide."

  "And if you don't come back? What do I do then?"

  I could hear the panic in my voice, but I couldn't help it. I knew this man, knew what he was capable of. I knew that the moment he saw Lance with this gun...it wouldn't be good. I knew Kennedy. He would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.

  "I'll come find you." Lance kissed me, his lips almost rough against mine. "Do you really think I'd walk away from you now that I've finally got you?" He laughed a little. "Never underestimate an Irishman's determination."

  Then he turned me and pushed me deeper into the woods. Tears began to stream down my cheeks, but I went. I did what he'd told me to do. I ran a hundred, a thousand, yards deeper into the woods and dropped down under some heavy brush, hiding among the dry leaves and broken twigs. And I prayed.

  Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please!

  There was absolute silence. Then the sound of the motor came close—too close—before cutting out completely. I closed my eyes, imagining Lance moving out into the open and confronting Kennedy.

  Please, God, don't let him do that!

  It was the not knowing that was driving me insane. My imagination was much more dangerous than reality probably was. I could hear the horses shifting, could hear footsteps in the underbrush. But I couldn't tell how close it was and I didn't know who it was.

  There was no confrontation, nothing like what I expected. That allowed me to breathe a little. All these m
emories came rushing back in on me, all the times I'd been frightened of Kennedy. I know who he was, knew what he was capable of. He made promises, told me he would never hurt me, but how could I believe him when I knew. I knew the people he associated with. I knew what they were capable of. And that...what was it they said? Guilt by association?

  Lance was a good man. But I once thought Kennedy was a good man, too.

  I was so scared, my thoughts jumping all over the place. This could go so bad. What was Lance doing? Where was he? Please, God, don't let him confront Kennedy!

  I could hear him. He was coming!

  Tears were rolling down my cheeks. A sob sat on my lips, but I bit it back, bit back everything that might alert him to my location. I couldn't do this now, couldn't do this again. I couldn't live like this. Please, God, make him go away! Make this stop!

  "I know you're there!" he yelled, his voice so familiar despite the passage of time, despite the way I'd tried to leave him behind, how I tried to forget everything. "I can hear you breathing!"

  My hands were shaking.

  "Come on, Viv! I know you're here!" His footsteps came closer, too close. "I couldn't believe it when I saw you at that horse show, couldn't believe your beautiful face was just there, right in front of me. All these years...I believed you were dead. After that accident...I looked for you everywhere! When I couldn't find you, I believed you were dead, a Jane Doe in some morgue somewhere. But now... you're mine. You've always been mine, Viv. I'm going to take you home."

  There was threat in those words, threat that underscored everything I'd been frightened of, threat that sent fear pumping through my blood. How did this happen? How did he find us? What mistake did I make? What was he doing at that show? Why was he in Wyoming? I thought I'd gone far enough, thought he would never find me here. How did this happen?

  What was I going to do?

  Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please!

  "Vivie!" He called. "Come out, baby! Come home! I don't know why you left, but I'll make it right, I'll make it up to you. We can go back to the way things were, we can be happy again! I love you, Viv! I want you back!"

  One of the horses cried out, the sound of its hooves pounding on the frozen ground filling the air around me. His footsteps stopped. He cursed, then the sound of pounding footsteps heading back in the other direction. A moment later, the sound of a motor revving.

  I stayed where I was, afraid it was too good to be true. He couldn't have just gone, couldn't have given up that easily. Kennedy didn't give up.

  And then more footsteps. Had he come back? Was it just a trick?

  "He's gone," Lance's kind voice said close behind.

  I came out of the brush and launched myself into Lance's arms. He'd done it! I didn't know how or why, but Kennedy was leaving, the sound of his motor growing distant. Gone.

  For now.

  Lance tugged me hard against him. We stood there like that for a long moment, but then he grabbed my hand and led the way back through the woods to where we'd left the horses. Only one of the horses was standing there now.

  "I had to let Lincoln go," he said. "I needed to draw him out."

  I didn't care. Whatever worked.

  I grabbed the saddle horn and began to pull myself up on Charger's back, but Lance grabbed my shoulder, pulled me back around.

  "What did he mean?" Lance asked. "You were his?"

  Every muscle in my body tensed. How could I have expected him not to ask? Of course, he'd heard, of course he was curious. I would have been, too.

  But I didn't want him to know, didn't want to have to tell him the truth. But what was there to say? How many more lies would I tell? My whole life had been a lie since I left Chicago, one lie after another after another. To all my coworkers, my neighbors, the few people I could call my friends. To Sutherland.

  Sutherland was the closest thing I'd had to family since I abandoned my own. And she didn't even know my real name.

  I didn't want to tell any more lies. I didn't want to hide behind deceit and falsehoods any more, didn't want to hide at all. I wanted it all out in the open, once and for all.

  "He's my husband."

  There. It was out now, for all the good it would do me.

  Chapter 15

  At the Ranch

  Sutherland struggled out of bed after only a few hours, moving carefully to not disturb the two girls sleeping soundly beside her. A glance out the window showed that the sheriff had already arrived with his deputies. Lights in the bunkhouse also let her know that her operatives were already awake as well. She showered quickly, dressing warmly in jeans and several long sleeve shirts, prepared to spend the day out in the elements.

  Mabel was in the kitchen when she walked in, preparing a huge pot of oatmeal and several loafs of toasted bread. She smiled when she spotted Sutherland, her smile more pleasant than Sutherland probably deserved.

  "About last night," Sutherland said, leaning unintentionally against the same counter where Bodhi had set her during their little make out session, "I want you—"

  "Don't worry about it. I won't say anything to anyone. It's none of my business, really."

  "I just...I don't want you to think that I'm the kind of woman who would do that sort of thing. I... Bodhi is... he just showed up and I..."

  "It's fine," Mabel said, resting a hand kindly on her shoulder. "I get it. Kirkland and I, we weren't exactly a typical courtship. If my parents knew some of the things that happened between us before we married..." She blushed even though she'd been married to the man for six years now. "Let's just say, I understand how things can sometimes happen that you never thought you would do."

  Sutherland's eyebrows rose, her curiosity suddenly sparked. But then she remembered the things she'd said to Kirkland last night and she was suddenly ashamed of herself.

  "Kirkland," she muttered.

  "He spent the night at the bunkhouse last night." Mabel glanced at her. "He's still working to find a link between this Kennedy fellow and Becky."

  Once again, Mabel surprised Sutherland. She hadn't realized that she knew so much about Gray Wolf business. She saw the look on Sutherland's face and shrugged.

  "He needed someone to bounce ideas off last night. I went and sat with him for a while after you and the girls went to bed."

  "I said some things to him last night—"

  "He didn't mention it."

  The lie didn't sit well on Mabel's lips. She blushed and turned away, busying herself with buttering a piece of toast.

  "I need to talk to him."

  "Why don’t you take a tray of toast," Mabel said, holding one out to her. Sutherland took it, pushing carefully through the back door of the kitchen as she headed down to the bunkhouse. Gray Wolf's offices were full, both her operatives, Ash's operatives, and the sheriff's deputies all standing around. Steve, the local sheriff, was standing at a map someone had hung on the wall of the ranch, drawing lines for a search grid.

  "The most logical thing for her to have done is to head east," Steve was telling Ash. "She likely didn't have a lot of supplies and that would be the quickest way to get to a populated area."

  "But she's running from someone," Sutherland said. "If I were her, I would have gone north."

  "But that's the longest path. She would have had to spend the night outdoors. Exposed."

  "Becky has experience with that sort of thing."

  Steve frowned, but Ash was clearly prepared to take Sutherland at her word.

  "Then we focus on this route."

  Steve shook his head, but he didn't argue any more. They divided the entire pasture into grids, but decided to search the northern most part first. Sutherland would take a mule—a small four-wheeled vehicle—with Kipling and Hank. Ash would work with David and Donovan. Kirkland, Grainger, and Ryan would take another mule while the deputies would each take their own vehicles out into the pasture. They were assigned five square miles each, each a good enough distance fr
om the others that they would not be covering the same territory, but they would cover as much of the northern path as possible. And, if they didn't find anything, they would move steadily east until the entire area was covered.

  It was a good plan, but it did little to soften the knots in Sutherland's belly.

  She caught up with Kirkland as he settled at his desk with a bowl of his wife's oatmeal.

  "Hey, I was wondering if we could talk?"

  He looked up, his clear brown eyes almost gold in the morning light. She'd never really appreciated what a handsome man he was before. No wonder Mabel often got this dreamy, teen with a crush, look on her face whenever she looked at him. Or talked about him.

  "It's not necessary. You were right."

  "I wasn't right. I was frustrated."

  "I shouldn't have said what I did about Becky."

  Sutherland tilted her head, trying not to agree with that statement and make things more tense between them. But she didn't really disagree, either.

  "I would, however, like to ask if you could put up with me for a while longer. I'd like to stay until this is resolved."

  "Of course. You're welcome to stay as long as you want." Sutherland ran her hands over her face. "Like I said, I was frustrated and I took it out on you. I don't want you to leave. In fact, I'd really like it if you stayed until I've got the day to day operations under control."

  "You already do."

  She shook her head. "Not really. You still do most of it. And Mabel... I don't know what I'd do without her help on the ranch."

  "That's why you want me to stay. You don't want me, you want my wife."

  "Exactly."

  Sutherland rested her hand on his shoulder as Kirkland laughed. He touched her hand.

  "Don't worry, I know my wife is the better part of this deal. She's the better part of most everything in my life."

  Sutherland couldn't help but think that was the way it should always be.

  She stepped outside, ready to get this thing started. She hesitated, though, when she saw Bodhi Archer standing near a group of Jeeps, bent over to speak to her daughter.