by Aimée Thurlo
Paul nodded thoughtfully. Deals were everyday compromises in the criminal justice system. “This is the end of a long road.”
“Yes it is.”
“Time to look to the future,” he said, but before he could say more, Kendra was called away to work the scene.
* * *
HOURS AFTER the remaining prisoners and the crime scene had been processed, Kendra stood outside the cabin beside her dusty rental car. The sun would be coming up soon and the return trip to Denver would be a long one, so it was time for her to go. Yet she just couldn’t make herself leave.
This was the moment she’d dreaded. Prolonging their inevitable goodbye wouldn’t help either of them. She’d made her decision. Good friends with benefits would never be enough for her. Working with Paul every day, being part of his world yet knowing that she’d never be at the center of it, would break her heart.
She looked down at her hand, staring at the antelope fetish he’d given her just yesterday. The message was clear. To survive, she had to go.
“What are you doing out here? You getting ready to leave?” he said, coming over to join her.
“Yeah, it’s time,” she said, and swallowed hard. She’d always stunk at goodbyes.
“It’s almost dawn. Can you hold off a bit and come with me? There’s a place I want to show you, and we can talk there. Afterwards, if you really want to leave, I won’t stand in your way.”
“All right,” she said. He wasn’t going to make leaving easy, but she couldn’t find it in her heart to say no. “Where are we going?”
“There’s a place that has special meaning to me. I’d like to take you there. It’s not far.”
He took her hand, and together they walked into Copper Canyon. As the first rays of sunlight fell over the land, small animals stirred in the brush, scampering about in search of food. A hawk flew overhead, idly circling from rim to rim.
As they climbed up a narrow trail that cut into the cliffs, Kendra told herself not to expect anything except one final, beautiful goodbye. Paul had already told her what he was willing to give her—everything, really, except his whole heart. She couldn’t expect him to change who he was. She had to accept it and move on.
Soon they reached a ledge that overlooked the canyon floor. He gestured to the vista below them with a sweep of his arm.
“Look to your right,” he said. “See that spot that gleams in the sun? That’s the metal roof of Hosteen Silver’s house. About six months after he brought me here, he and I got into an argument. He’d had us carrying water to the livestock and filling two stock tanks hundreds of yards away—by hand. I’d never worked so hard in my life. I accused him of taking us in just for the cheap labor, that he didn’t really care about me and Preston.”
“Harsh words,” she said, eyebrows raised. “What did he do?”
“Nothing. He told me to go check the water in the trough behind the house.” He smiled. “He wasn’t the kind to explain himself. Hosteen Silver felt that by sharing his home and taking care of us, he’d said all that was needed,” Paul said. “He was right, but I didn’t understand that at the time.”
“So what happened?”
“I walked off and came here. I sat down with my feet dangling over the edge and tried to figure out what I should do,” Paul said, staring at the shiny metal roof, gleaming like a beacon calling them home. “Hosteen Silver tracked me here in less than half an hour.”
“Was he angry?”
“No, he just sat down next to me and told me that he’d take me back to the foster home if I wanted to go. If not, I had a family waiting below. The next step was up to me, but if I stayed, I’d have to follow his rules.”
Paul paused for several long moments. “That was the first time anyone had ever given me a choice, particularly on something that would determine my future.” He turned to face her. “To me, this is a place of beginnings. That’s why I wanted to bring you here.”
“I’m not sure I understand....”
“It wasn’t Lynx who warned me when the gunman you thought was down drew his weapon. I felt the threat to you inside my gut. I acted out of instinct, protecting the woman I love,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “Everything that makes me a man tells me you don’t want to go, but you think you can’t find what you need here.” He held her gaze. “Antelope People see with their hearts. Look into mine now. I’m no longer a man chained to the past. When I see you, I see our future. A home, a family, it can all be ours. Say you’ll stay with me.”
Her whispered yes became nothing more than a sigh as his mouth closed over hers.
Epilogue
Eleven months later
Kendra laughed as Paul dove into the hedge trying to catch the Nerf football flying end over end. Jason, the four-year-old Navajo boy they’d fostered since the death of his single mother, hadn’t quite mastered the art of a spiral pass.
“Sorry, pop,” Jason yelled, running around the end of the hedge for the ball, which was still out of Paul’s reach.
“Paul, you’re going to get grass stains all over your knees, and, look at you, Jason. Can’t you keep your shoes tied for more than thirty seconds?” Kendra called out, smiling.
Paul laughed, catching Jason’s surprise hike as it came over the hedge. “Get back here, boy. Your mom wants us to look our best when we sign those adoption papers today.”
Kendra laughed as Paul picked up their feisty soon-to-be son and carried him on his shoulders across the lawn. “Now go put that ball back into the toy box, J.,” Paul said, setting him down.
As Jason, the little boy who’d become the love of their lives, raced away, Paul stepped up and gave her a sweet kiss, one hand caressing her swollen belly gently.
“I’m glad we get to make the adoption official before our next little guy arrives,” Paul whispered.
“Look on the bright side,” Kendra said, resting her head against his chest. “It gave me time to get used to my new job as a working mom.” She smiled. “And to think I actually got full maternity leave from your brother Dan so soon after he hired me. That was great.”
“It comes from knowing the company’s MVP,” Paul said, smiling. “Life is as perfect as it can be for us right now, isn’t it? I never saw myself as a family man, but now I can’t imagine being happy any other way.”
She reached up and touched his cheek in a soft caress. “Things didn’t always go so smoothly for us. Remember the first time we met? I was stranded and you rescued me at gunpoint. Your confidence was so annoying.”
Paul chuckled. “Hey, but in the end, Antelope tamed the Lynx.”
“No, not tamed, gentled.”
“Maybe so,” he murmured, taking her mouth in a kiss as tender as the love that burned in his heart.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt of Mason by Delores Fossen!
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Chapter One
The scream woke Deputy Mason Ryland.
His eyes flew open, and Mason stumbled from the sofa in his office where he’d fallen asleep. He reached for his shirt but couldn’t find it. He had better luck with the Smith & Wesson handgun that he’d left on his desk.
He threw open his office door and caught the scent of something he darn sure didn’t want to smell on the grounds of his family’s ranch.
Smoke.
The wispy gray s
treaks coiled around him, quickly followed by a second scream and a loud cry for help.
Mason went in the direction of both the smoke and the voice, racing out into the chilly October night air. He wasn’t the only one who’d been alerted. A handful of his ranch hands were running toward the cabin-style guesthouse about a hundred yards away. It was on fire, the orangey flames licking their way up the sides and roof. And the place wasn’t empty.
His newly hired horse trainer, Abbie Baker, was staying there.
That got Mason running even harder. So did another shout for help. Oh, yeah, that shout was coming from the guesthouse all right.
“Call the fire department,” he yelled to one of the ranch hands.
Mason also shouted out for someone to call his brothers as well even though they would soon know anyway. All five of them, their wives and their children lived in the family home or on the grounds of the ranch.
Mason made it to the guesthouse ahead of the others, and he tried to pick through the smoke and the embers flicking through the night air. He hurried to the sound of his trainer’s pleas for help.
And he cursed when he saw her.
Abbie was in the doorway, her body half in and half out of the house, and what was left of the door was on her back, anchoring her in place.
The smoke was thick and black, and the area was already hot from the flames, but Mason fought his way through just as one of the ranch hands caught up with him. Rusty Burke. Together, they latched on to the door and started to drag it off Abbie. Not easily. It was heavy and bulky, and it didn’t help that the flames were snapping at them.
Mason didn’t usually think in terms of worst-case scenarios, but he had a split-second thought that his new trainer might burn to death. The possibility gave him a much-needed jolt of adrenaline, and Rusty and he threw the door off her. In the same motion, Mason latched on to her arm and dragged her away from the guesthouse.
“I couldn’t get out,” she said, her voice clogged with smoke and fear.
“You’re out now,” he let her know.
Out but not necessarily safe. The ranch hands were already there with the hoses, but he doubted the house would stand much longer. If it collapsed, Abbie could still be burned or hurt from the flying debris.
“Are the horses okay?” she asked. Mason was more than a little surprised that she’d think of the animals at a time like this.
“They’re fine.” At least he was pretty sure of that. “This is the only building on fire.”
Mason scooped her up, and she looked at him. It was pitch-dark, probably two or three in the morning, but thanks to the flames and the hunter’s moon, he saw her eyes widen. A single word left her mouth.
“No.”
Mason didn’t have time to question that no before she started struggling. She wasn’t a large woman, five-five at the most and on the lean side, but she managed to pack a punch when she rammed her elbow against his bare chest. He cursed and put her in a death grip so she couldn’t fight her way out of his arms.
“I’m trying to save you,” he reminded her, and he added more profanity when she didn’t stop fighting.
Abbie was probably still caught up in the fear and the adrenaline, but Mason was finding it a little hard to be sympathetic with the cold rocky ground biting into his bare feet and with her arms and legs waggling around.
“We have to get away from the fire,” he snarled.
Those wide frightened eyes looked at the flames, and she stopped struggling just long enough for Mason to get a better grip on her.
He started running toward the ranch office where lately he’d been spending most of his days and nights because of the heavy workload. He could deposit Abbie there and hurry back to see if the guesthouse could be saved. He wasn’t hopeful, especially because the ranch wasn’t exactly in city limits. It would take the fire department a good twenty minutes to reach them.
The door to his office and quarters was still open, and he hurried inside, flipped on the lights with his elbow and placed her on the sofa. Mason looked down at her, to make sure she wasn’t injured.
She didn’t appear to be.
Visibly shaken, yes. Trembling, too. Pale and breathing way too fast. All normal responses under the circumstances.
Her eyes met his again, and Mason saw the fear that was still there. And maybe something else that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Did you try to kill me?” she asked.
That single question seemed to be all she could muster because she groaned, closed her eyes, and the back of her head dropped against the sofa.
Mason huffed. That definitely wasn’t something he expected to hear her say. He’d been a deputy for fifteen years, and his employee no doubt knew it. Even though most people were leery of him because…well, because he wasn’t a friendly sort, they didn’t usually accuse him of arson or attempted murder.
“Why would I set this fire?” he demanded.
Abbie opened her mouth, closed it and shook her head. She also dodged his gaze. “I’m not sure what I’m saying right now. I thought I was going to die.”
Mason guessed that was a normal response, but he was beginning to get a bad feeling about this. “How did the fire start?”
Abbie shook her head again. “I’m not sure. I woke up, and there was smoke all around me. I tried to get to the door, but I started coughing and couldn’t see.” She paused, shivered. “When I got to the door and opened it, it fell on me.” Another pause. “Or something.”
“Or something?” he pushed.
Oh, man. The bad feeling was getting worse, and Mason blamed it on that stupid question. Was there a nonstupid reason that she thought someone had tried to kill her, or was this the ramblings of a woman whose mind had been clouded with fear and adrenaline?
“Or something,” she repeated.
Abbie pushed her light brown hair from her face. Long hair, he noticed. Something he hadn’t realized because she always wore it tucked beneath a baseball cap. In fact, he’d thought of her as tomboyish, but there wasn’t anything boyish or tom about the person lying on his sofa. In that paper-thin pale blue gown, she looked like a woman.
An attractive one.
Something Mason wished like the devil he hadn’t noticed. She worked for him, and he didn’t tread down that path. Business and sex never sat well with him.
“Did you leave the stove on?” he pressed.
But all he got was another head shake—something else that didn’t please him. He wanted some answers here, and he wanted something to tamp down that bad feeling in his gut. However, the knock on his already-open door had him shifting in that direction.
It was his ranch hand Rusty. The lanky young man was out of breath and looked on the verge of blurting something out before his attention landed on Abbie. He motioned for Mason to meet him outside.
Mason looked at Abbie. “I’ll be right back.” Yeah, it sounded like a warning and it was. By God, he was going to get those answers and settle this uneasy feeling. He would find out why she’d thought he had tried to kill her.
He stepped outside with Rusty, and when he got a better look at Rusty’s face, he pulled the door shut. “More bad news?” But it wasn’t exactly a question. Mason could already tell there was.
Rusty nodded. “The guesthouse collapsed. Nothing left to save.”
Well, heck. That didn’t please Mason, but it could have been much worse. His trainer could have gotten killed.
Abbie could have gotten killed, he mentally corrected.
And he cursed himself for thinking of her that way. Mason blamed it on that blasted thin gown and those frightened vulnerable brown eyes.
“There’s more,” Rusty went on, grabbing Mason’s attention.
Mason took a deep breath, ready to hear the news he probably didn’t want to hear, but before Rusty could spill it, he saw his brother Grayson hurrying toward them.
Like Mason, his brother was half-dressed. Jeans that he’d probably just pulled on and no
shirt. Even half-dressed, Grayson still managed to look as if he were in charge.
And he was.
As the eldest of his five brothers and the Silver Creek town sheriff, Grayson had a way of being in charge just by being there.
“How’s the trainer?” Grayson immediately asked.
“Alive,” Mason provided. He didn’t add the customary and well part to that because he wasn’t sure that was true. He should probably look to see if she’d had a blow to the head. After all, the door could have hit her when it became unhinged. She might even have a broken bone or two.
“The EMTs are on the way,” Grayson explained. He looked at Mason. “Rusty told you about the guesthouse?”
Mason nodded. “It’s gone.”
Grayson stopped next to him, his breath gusting. Probably because he’d run all the way from the main ranch house. “Yeah. And there was a gas can by the back porch. Rusty managed to pull it out of there before the flames took over.”
What the devil? Mason mentally went through the reasons why Abbie would have had a gas can on the porch, and he couldn’t immediately think of one. She trained his cutting horses and didn’t have anything to do with any ranch equipment that required gasoline.
“Looks like someone could have set the fire,” Grayson concluded.
Arson. On the ranch.
The anger slammed through Mason. Even though he had five brothers who were equal owners of the land, the ranch was his domain. He ran it. It was what he loved, more than a badge, more than just about anything. And if someone had intentionally burned down the guesthouse with Abbie inside, then that someone was going to pay and pay hard.
“It could have been worse,” Rusty went on, turning to Grayson. “Mason barely got Abbie out of there in time.”
That was true. And Mason went back to Abbie’s stupid question.