Shadoe stood up, her own fists clenched. “What can we do?”
Hank looked at her, then smiled. “They never intended to allow the wolves to be released. That’s why they set Thor free. He was supposed to panic the ranchers and the residents. Then, after an appropriate time, during which hearings would be held again and the ranchers would sell, it would be decided not to release the wolves. Of course, after such a long stretch in captivity, they wouldn’t be able to fend for themselves and they would have to be destroyed.” Hank spoke with more anger with each sentence. “It’s a perfect plan. All they needed was to get me out of the way. And they did. I played right into their hands.”
“They?”
“Kathy Lemon and whoever is working with her. Someone with access to the wolves, to my tent, to my belongings. Someone who could set me up as a murderer with my own weapon. Someone who doesn’t give a damn about the wilderness or the wolves or anything except money and appearances.” He looked at Shadoe, fury bubbling in his eyes. “It has to be Harry Code.”
For some reason Shadoe was not surprised. Code’s behavior toward Hank all along had been too aggressive. Now it made sense. Hank had to be painted as a killer, as a man over the edge. “And Jim Larson was just a scapegoat.” She hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud until Hank answered.
“That’s right. When they didn’t kill you with the clothesline, which they were going to blame on me, then they had to have a body. Jim was the man who walked out of the tent.”
“We can’t let them get away with this,” Shadoe almost whispered.
“We won’t.”
“But that still doesn’t solve the mystery of who was riding Ray? Harry Code or Kathy Lemon couldn’t have walked into my barn and taken a horse. Curly would have stopped them. Or Jill.”
“They wouldn’t have given it a second thought if it was John Carpenter, bravely going out to look for you.”
Shadoe didn’t answer. She’d known John for a long time. Was it possible he’d do such a thing? But wasn’t it a little strange that he’d suddenly turned up in Lakota County, buying a ranch, ready to settle down when before he’d been as free as the wind?
“Look, John could have been used by them. Maybe he’s innocent. Let’s drop that. For now.” Hank put his hand on Shadoe’s shoulder, his fingers gently massaging the tense muscles.
She was only too willing to drop that particular train of thought. Someone had tried to kill her, or Hank, but she didn’t believe it was John. Could she be so wrong about a person? Hank had been that wrong about Kathy Lemon.
She felt Hank’s gaze on her and looked up with a defiant glint. “I’m not going home.”
“Someone needs to call Billy and get him up here.”
“I’m not leaving you. If you’re going to free those wolves, you’ll need my help.”
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was so stubborn. And she was so beautiful, he wanted to kiss her. His hand slid down her shoulder, moving to her back as he drew her closer to him.
“You’re not going to be able to make me go. And you can’t persuade me.” Even as she said the words she heard the catch in her voice. Hank’s look had nothing to do with force, it was all heat.
“We don’t have to make this decision for a little while.” He looked up at the sun. It was only midmorning. “We can’t do anything about the wolves until dark. The only thing we can do is stay here and wait. Whoever shot at us is gone now, but he may be back.”
Shadoe’s knees weakened at the feel of his hand sliding down her back, moving lower with a gentle pressure that brought her up against him and held her firm. Just when she thought he was going to kiss her, she opened her eyes to find him looking at her.
“What?” she asked.
“Why are you suddenly so determined to free the wolves?”
Shadoe had given her change of heart absolutely no thought. But she knew the answer. Just as she knew that for twenty years and better she’d loved Hank, though she’d run as hard and fast from that knowledge as was humanly possible. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”
“What about your horses?”
“If what you say is true, the wolves will stay up in the higher elevations.”
“And if they don’t?”
That was something she didn’t really want to consider. “Don’t you remember the time we were fishing and you asked Dad what we would do if we caught the Loch Ness monster?”
Hank’s brow furrowed, then suddenly brightened. “He told me not to borrow trouble.”
“Well, that’s sounds like good, sound Scottish advice to me.” Shadoe kissed him on the lips, savoring the thrill that ran through her at even the slightest movement of his mouth.
Hank let her kiss him, relishing her initiative, knowing that they’d come a long, long way toward repairing a lot of hurt between them. Finally, he believed, he and Shadoe had turned the corner on the past and were squarely in the present.
Lifting her into his arms, he carried her away from the hard rock where they’d hidden and over to a bed of tender green grass that had sprung up in the shade of a silver birch. Very gently he laid her in the grass, then bent to kiss her.
Her arms circled his neck, pulling him down to her with an urgency that sent a bolt of desire through him. Hank knew that whatever else he’d lost in the Montana mountains, he’d finally found the one woman that he would always love-if he could keep them both alive to enjoy it.
Chapter Seventeen
Shadoe had not believed it possible that she could drift into such a deep sleep, but the passion Hank kindled in her had burned away all of her barriers, and she had fallen into a sleep as sound as that of a child. She awoke with the feel of the sun on her body, his arm around her waist. Even in his sleep his fingers stroked her skin.
For a long time she remained still, her eyes closed, allowing herself the simple pleasure of lying close to the man she loved. The sense of hope and serenity that came with that admission made her feel as if she had stepped out of a skin too small for her. She did love Hank. Had loved him for years. Fear had made her deny that fact, to herself and to him. Fear had made her run from Montana, from the place where her heart had learned the meaning of love. And fear had made her run from everything that reminded her of her father. That terrible, terrifying pain of loss that had overwhelmed her. For twenty years she had avoided thinking about Jimmy Deerman, had denied all of the things he’d taught her. Now, that was over.
She opened her eyes and turned to find that Hank was also awake. Like her, he’d been savoring the moment, lying perfectly still.
“It’s time to move,” he said, shifting into a sitting position.
With two fingers, Shadoe traced the shadows the sun cast against his muscled back. He’d been good-looking as a boy. As a man, he was more than handsome. She didn’t speak because she didn’t want to argue with him, not after the last few hours. No matter what he said, she wasn’t going down the mountain without him.
“Shadoe, I can’t risk the chance of losing you.” He spoke with raw emotion.
“And I can’t risk the chance of losing you.” She was calm, determined. “With both of us working, we’ll have. twice the chance of getting them free and gone. Our exposure will be cut in half. We can sneak in and fade out.” She finally looked him in the eye. “I’m as good at this as you are. Jimmy taught me, too.” Her smile was sad. “I tried so damn hard to forget everything he ever taught me, but I couldn’t. I’ve held it all in my heart.”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek, tickling her neck lightly as he knew she liked. More than anything he wanted her safe.
“Hank, there’s no guarantee whoever shot at us isn’t down the mountain waiting for us to try to get home. He might have set up an ambush. It’s as dangerous to go back to the Double S as it is to go after the wolves.”
Hank considered that possibility. It was true. Harry Code wouldn’t think twice about ambushing a woman.
“I’m not going home.” She
rose, brushing the tender shoots of grass from her back and legs. “I’m going to put on my boots and find that little stream west of here. I’m going to soak my thoroughly satisfied bones, and then we’re going to saddle up and head for the wolves.”
Hank stood up and began slipping into his boots, gathering his clothes in his arms.
“What are you doing?” Shadoe could barely suppress her grin at the picture he made.
“I’m going with you,” he said. “Sounds like the best plan I’ve heard today.”
Within an hour they had packed the horses, checked the guns and Hank had drawn out the placement of the pens so she had an idea what to do. She would release the pregnant wolf and her mate, then start to work on the females, while he dealt with the males. With her help, Hank hoped the more timely release would result in the wolves packing up and fleeing together. He did need her, but he still did not like the risk she was taking.
They spoke softly during the first part of the ride, but as the sun began to set and they drew closer to the wolves, they fell silent. Hank had been scouting the area for Thor, but to his bitter disappointment, the wolf was nowhere in sight. He’d been there in the early morning when Shadoe had arrived. He could only hope the big wolf was tailing them, out of sight.
He had selected a high, craggy point to leave the horses. When they arrived, Shadoe felt the first tremor of fear. She had committed to a course of action that could end her life, and Hank’s too, all for a pack of creatures she had once feared and despised, the very animal that had taken her little brother’s life and led to her father’s death.
As she slid from her horse, she saw Thor between two pines. The wolf was staring at her, demanding that she return his gaze. Transfixed, Shadoe looked into his golden eyes. Dusk was falling and in the fading light of day the wolf gleamed silver.
Hank was lifting the saddle from Winston’s back when he saw the wolf, and Shadoe. The tableau held him frozen. Some communication he could not fathom was taking place between the woman he loved and the animal he had fought so hard to protect. As he watched, Thor turned and trotted back into the deepening shadows of the forest.
Shadoe turned to him, tears on her cheeks. “All of this time I’ve blamed the wolf. For Joey, and for my father. In my heart I knew the wolf acted instinctively. She killed to protect her cubs. But I had to hate the animal, because I couldn’t hate my father for rushing out and getting himself killed” She brushed her tears away with the back of her hand. “Now I think I can forgive them both.”
Hank eased the saddle onto the ground and went to her, pulling her into his arms. There was no need for words. It was enough to hold her.
Sitting together, they watched the stars appear in the sky and waited. When the moon rode high, they set off through the woods on foot. Hank had not been lucky enough to get a cloudy night for his second attempt to free the wolves.
Moving to the spot where he’d been the night before, they hunkered down to watch the camp. With Jim Larson’s death, the guard duties had been intensified, and to Hank’s dismay he saw that Fred Barnes carried a gun-drawn and ready. There was no card playing in the tent, no casual camaraderie. Fred was alone, and alert. It was going to be a tricky business, and he realized that success hinged on Shadoe’s help.
“No matter what happens to me,” he whispered to her, “continue with the release. I’ll be okay.”
“The same applies to me,” she answered.
As Fred returned to the tent, Hank nodded and they crept over the remaining ground to the cages.
Shadoe approached the first cage and was stricken with an unexpected feeling of dread. Inside the cage the female growled at her, warning her away, and Shadoe wanted to run, to turn tail and beat it to safety. She had come to terms with her brother’s death, and her father’s, but she feared the wolves, feared the fangs that could tear her throat out with one powerful snap. The terror of her nightmares threatened to immobilize her. She could hear Hank levering off the locks, but she couldn’t move.
A sliver of moonlight sifted through the boughs of a fir and struck the ground at her feet. It was exactly the color of Thor’s coat. At that thought, Shadoe unfroze. She hustled toward the cage and used the key Hank had given her. Stepping far back, she opened the cage and went on to the male. To her surprise, the wolves lingered in their cages, unwilling to leave the space that was both haven and prison. She had four doors open when she heard the flap of the tent explode outward.
“Who’s there?” Cal Oberton stepped out of the tent, his automatic pistol drawn and clearly visible as he stood in the tent opening.
“What’s going on there?” His voice was edgy with fear. He did not intend to become the second murdered agent.
Before Shadoe could duck, a flashlight beam caught her squarely in the face, blinding her.
“What are you doing here?” Cal demanded.
Shadoe calmly turned to the next cage. She had to delay him so Hank could complete the work.
“I’m turning the wolves out,” she answered. “They deserve to be free.”
She was totally unprepared for the incredible sound of a gun being fired. The blow to her shoulder was like a hammer, so hard that she spun around in a circle before falling to the ground. It took her a moment to understand she’d been shot.
“What the hell?” Cal shouted. “Who’s shooting? Put down that gun, you idiot,” he shouted as he ran toward Shadoe, dropping and rolling as if he, too, might be a target. When he got to her he flashed the light in her face, and then her shoulder. “What are you trying to do?” he asked. “Where’s Hank?”
Before she could answer, she felt Hank’s arms around her.
“Shadoe!” He snatched the light from Cal’s hand and immediately found the bullet wound. He scooped her into his arms and ran with her to the tree line.
When he deposited her on the ground, she pushed him away. “The wolves! You have to save them, Hank. Now! I’ll be okay.”
Hank hesitated, gauging the placement of the wound, Shadoe’s safety, and the fate of the wolves. Cal materialized out of the darkness beside him.
“I searched around, but I couldn’t find anyone out there. I don’t know who in the hell shot her.” Cal still had his gun drawn. “Is she bad?”
“No.” Shadoe answered. “Shoulder wound. I’ll be fine, but you can’t stand around here gawking. Go!” Seeing his indecision, Shadoe held up the key. “Go now. For once in your life, Hank, don’t argue.”
He took the key from her. “Watch her for me, Cal.” He disappeared into the night.
Left alone with the other agent, Shadoe forced herself into a sitting position. The wound hurt like hell, but she knew it wasn’t life-threatening.
“Help him, Cal,” she said. The pain was beginning to kick in and she thought she might faint, but she gritted her teeth. “This is our only chance. Set them free,” she said. “Help Hank.”
Cal placed the heel of his hand on Shadoe’s shoulder and pressed. “You’re losing a lot of blood,” he said.
She shook her head. “I’m okay. Really. Hank didn’t hurt anyone. This is our only chance to do what’s right.”
“Your shoulder. There’s someone out there trying to kill us.”
“The wolves,” she said. “I won’t die in three minutes’ time.”
Cal pulled a set of keys from his own pocket. He weighed them in his hand, then turned to the cages. “Hank?”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s do it.”
Shadoe felt a sense of total relief as she closed her eyes and concentrated on surrendering to the pain as her father had taught her. Go with it, don’t fight. Save your strength to live, don’t fight. Visualize the blood stopping. The wound was worse than she’d let on, but Hank had to free the wolves. She could take the pain. With the pain, there was no room for fear, not even when one of the wolves finally made a break for freedom and leaped across her, taking off for the woods. The others followed, tearing away from the cages in a pack, just as Hank had ho
ped.
From a long distance, she heard Hank’s voice. “That’s it, Cal. They’re gone.” She felt his hands on her body, assessing the damage, applying pressure to her shoulder.
“Cal, it’s worse than I thought. Is Doc anywhere around here?” Hank asked. “She’s losing blood too fast. There’s not time to get her down the mountain and there’s no place here for a chopper to land and pick her up.”
“Who the hell shot her?” Cal asked. “I never saw another person.”
Hank kept the pressure on her shoulder. He felt his panic rising. He could feel Shadoe weakening beneath his hands. Nothing mattered except they stop the bleeding and save her.
“Get some help,” Hank said between clenched teeth. “Run, Cal!”
Cal took off, moving down, to the campsite where the other agents were undoubtedly scrambling up at the sound of the gunshot.
Feeling desperately helpless, Hank exerted more force against Shadoe’s shoulder, as if he could press the blood back into her by sheer will. Even in the moonlight he could see the pallor of her skin. “Oh, Shadoe, I love you,” he said. He’d been unable to say those words to her that afternoon. Now he couldn’t stop himself.
She didn’t open her eyes, but she smiled. “I know.” Her voice was a whisper. “I love you, Hank. I always have.”
“How touching.”
The angry voice cut through the darkness. Hank looked up. Standing at the edge of the clearing was Jill Amberly. She held a rifle pointed at Hank’s chest.
“So, the two lovers finally come to terms, just at the moment of their death. Rather Shakespearean, don’t you think?” Her laugh was filled with hatred.
At the sound of her friend’s voice, Shadoe turned to her. “Jill?” Her voice held disbelief. “Jill, is that you? Thank goodness you’ve come. How did you know where to find me?”
“You followed the bait. I followed you.” Jill’s voice was matter-of-fact. “You’ve been the perfect foil, Shadoe. Egging Hank on, speaking for the ranchers. You’ll be shot with his weapon, just like that other agent. And then I’ll have to kill Hank.”
Midnight Prey Page 22