Cree dried himself off, his mind going back to the miserable years he was a prisoner. His mother couldn’t afford to drive to Salt Lake City federal prison to see him often. Gas cost money and she had little. He’d hated that time and, finally, he’d served his sentence and was freed.
Disliking that everyone else called him a mental retard, Tara saying he was a crazed monster had lingered hurtfully in his chest. Cree had never forgotten the kidnapping or her despising him for doing it.
He promised to build her a beautiful cabin in the woods, where she’d be happy with him. That’s all he wanted. He honestly didn’t know what happiness was, but seeing Tara daily in school made his heart feel good. It was the only time he’d ever felt emotions flow through him like sunlight, chasing away the darkness in his soul. Tara made him feel hope for the first and only time in his life. It was her. That wonderful, sunny smile of hers, that husky laugh, that sparkle in her green eyes. All he had to do was picture her in his mind and his whole body vibrated with a wild yearning for her once more. It felt like the world’s worst addiction, and he was trapped within it. Besides, the voices told him that Tara wanted him and he should go get her and make her his own, once and for all.
Somehow, he had to rethink his kidnapping her. This time? It had to work. He had to preplan. He had to watch her and get her pattern of daily living so that when he captured her a second time, he’d be successful. And maybe Tara being older, she wouldn’t be as wild and angry as she had been at sixteen. But even if she was, Cree believed in his heart that he could tame her with kindness, be good to her, hold her. He was older, too. Patience wasn’t his strong suit, but with Tara, he wanted so badly to be just that for her. She might not like being captured and living with him, but eventually, Cree felt, he could wear her down, convince her that he was the only man for her. Yes, that would work. He would be patient with her. No matter if she was angry all over again, calling him names and pleading to be released, he’d stick to his new plan.
Chapter Six
May 1
Ebony raced around the indoor arena, her little broom tail straight up, her spindly legs flying through the sand, her tiny teacup muzzle thrust as far forward as she could stretch it on her short little neck. Tara couldn’t stop a chuckle from forming as she watched the two-month-old black filly with the white blaze down her face, scamper around. Like any foal, she kicked, jumped, bucked and slid. Her mother, Candy, stood patiently in the center of the empty arena, watching her baby race around.
Clicking off a series of photos with her Canon 7D camera, Tara felt the thrill of photography envelope her once again. Instead of photographing horrendous photos of torture, death and carnage, she was shooting something hopeful and positive that would make people smile. Harper had coaxed her out the day they’d talked about shooting Ebony in the indoor arena and those photos had been wonderful. She’d already sold a number of them on stock photo websites. They were popular, but then, any baby horse, filly or colt, was cute, in her opinion.
It was midday, the May sunlight spilling brightly into the arena. She looked up to see Dair and Kira arriving, smiling and raising their hands in greeting. Lifting hers as well, Tara said, “Come and watch Ebony. She’s such a showboater.”
The women’s collective laughter echoed through the arena, but it didn’t stop show-off Ebony from whirling around on her long, thin legs and running the other way. She made little grunts with her gigantic effort to race at them at the fastest possible speed as Tara continued to photograph her. She saw Dair and Kira come and lean against the pipe-rail fence, hooking a boot over the lowest rung, grinning and watching the foal.
Finally, after sprinting around, Ebony slowed and went back to her mother, thrusting her nose beneath the mare’s belly, looking for a quick pickup of milk. She suckled noisily, her tail whipping back and forth like a metronome as she thirstily drank from her patient, nearly half-asleep mother. Tara got all of it on her card.
“Hey,” Dair called, “I just saw Harper. He said you’d seen Taylor Douglas about taking that saliva test for high cortisol. How did that go, Tara?”
Tara came over and shut off her Canon, allowing it to hang around her neck. She joined her friends, leaning against one metal post, the rails between them. “Okay, I guess,” she told Dair, who was in a light denim jacket, jeans and boots. As always, she had her black hair in braids, her baseball cap pushed up on her head. She was wearing gloves, and Tara knew she was helping Harper clean out the box stalls. It was a daily and necessary duty. “I mailed off the box with my saliva tube in it this morning. Taylor said she’d call me when she got the results, which should be in about five days.”
Dair nodded, resting her arms on the rail. “Kira and I were sent to her by Libby Hilbert about a month after we arrived here at the Bar C,” she said. “Best thing Libby has done for us.” She shot a look to her left, where Kira stood. She, too, was wearing a lightweight denim jacket, her leather work gloves in one hand. “Wasn’t it, Kira?”
“Absolutely,” Kira said. “It’s the next phase of getting well.”
“Maybe not a hundred percent well,” Dair told Tara, “but having the anxiety stop has been huge for all of us.”
Kira grinned at Tara. “And we’re all looking forward to when Taylor prescribes the adaptogen you need to shut off that cortisol once and for all.”
“I can hardly wait,” Tara agreed, leaning against the post, watching Ebony feed. The little filly was assertive and her mother nearly had her eyes closed, head hanging as Ebony butted repeatedly at her mother’s milk bag. Candy had the patience of Job, that was for sure.
“Hey, we’re driving up to Jackson Hole this afternoon,” Dair said. “Would you like to come along?”
“Why are you going up there?”
Dair gave Kira a warm look. “There’s a wedding dress store up there and she’s going to find and order her dress. Shay is coming along with us, by the way. We figured we’d use the ranch truck with the extended cab. All four of us will fit into it. Are you interested?”
Tara knew Kira had agreed to marry Garret and that they’d set a date of June 16 to get married here at the ranch. “Sure, I’d love to go along!”
“Maud Whitcomb is going to meet us up there,” Dair said. “She’s planned a little midafternoon treat at a very upscale restaurant on the main plaza after Kira has chosen the dress and ordered it. Some wine, some munchies. Should be a lot of fun.”
Tara nodded. “Sure, let’s do it!” She saw no harm in going to Jackson Hole with her friends. It was always in the back of her mind that Cree Elson lived there. So far, though, no one had seen hide nor hair of him in Wind River. And everyone was watching out for him because the locals knew what he’d done to her before.
Little by little, Tara’s fear of being kidnapped or harmed by Cree was dissolving. In large part, it was due to Harper’s quiet, unobtrusive presence in her life. Tara often wondered what she’d done to deserve a man like him. Every day it was getting tougher to ignore his masculinity, his smile, his teasing and the warmth he always fed her.
Dair pushed away from the rail, looking down at her dusty, dirty jeans. “We’re all going to wear nice, clean clothes to go up there,” and she brushed off her jeans and grimaced.
Tara asked, “What time? And where do I meet you girls?”
“An hour from now,” Kira said. “At Shay and Reese’s house.”
“I’ll be there with bells on. First, I need to tell Harper where I’m going.”
“Do it,” Dair said, walking with Kira along the concrete sidewalk outside the arena. “We’ll see you soon.”
“Who’s the designated driver?” Tara wanted to know, thinking that drinking wine and eating canapés midday would be fun, but someone had to stay sober.
“That would be Shay,” Kira called over her shoulder as they reached the door to the arena. “Her father’s an alcoholic and she doesn’t touch it. She’s going to drive us there and back.”
Dair chuckled as she held the
door open for Kira. “Yeah, but she’ll chow down on the goodies Maud has ordered from this fab restaurant we’ll be visiting afterward. It’s the Bell Tower. Heard of it, Tara?”
“Oh,” Tara said, halting, “that’s a five-star restaurant. Wow. Maud is going all out for you, Kira.”
“Yes,” Kira agreed, smiling. “Maud loves weddings. She’s been a huge help to me. I’m not exactly a seamstress and I’m not so much into fashion, but she is.”
“It sounds like a lot of fun,” Tara agreed. “Okay, I’ll see you in an hour!” and she split off from her friends, heading down the path that led back into the boarders’ box stalls, where Harper was. She felt her heart lift. This past month, she’d seen the love between Kira and Garret. She was happy for them. If any couple she knew deserved something good to happen to them, it was those two.
The cool breeze flowed past her as she turned down one of the wide concrete aisles. There were fifteen box stalls on each side and, halfway down, she saw Harper cleaning one out, a wheelbarrow nearby and a pitchfork in his hand. Her heart swelled with such happiness as she watched him working. It might be only fifty degrees outside, but the huge sliding doors at the other end were open, giving the horses fresh air and sunshine.
Harper wore a muscle shirt that showed off his powerful upper body and broad shoulders. He wore gloves, and as she walked quietly toward him, Tara liked the way his jeans fit his narrow hips and his long, powerful legs. His hair was always kept short, but she could see the sweat gleaming on his brow as he swung another pitchfork full of cedar shavings and horse poop into the wheelbarrow.
He spotted her, smiled and straightened up.
“Hey,” she called, “you’re almost done for the day,” and she halted near the opened door to the stall. The boarded horse, a black-and-white pinto gelding named Puzzle, poked his head out of the door and nickered to her. Tara went over and patted the ten-year-old horse, who nuzzled her outstretched hand.
“Hey, yourself,” Harper said, leaning against the pitchfork. “Did you get enough photos of Ebony in action?” He wiped his brow with the back of his arm.
Tara tried not to be moved by Harper’s sexiness. He seemed totally unaware of how beautiful he was. “Oh, she’s tearing around as usual. I swear, I think Shay and Reese ought to think of putting her into the quarter horse futurity and racing her. She loves to run.”
Chuckling, Harper said, “They are thinking about it. Both of her parents have racing blood, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they do.”
“There’s a lot of money in that racing futurity,” Tara said. “It could help the ranch.”
“Yeah, but that’s several years away. Ebony has to grow up, get trained to race and all that, too. I heard from Reese the other day that there’s a big quarter horse farm in California looking to purchase Ebony as soon as she’s weaned. I don’t know what they’re going to do.”
She moved around the wheelbarrow and Puzzle went back to eating hay out of a net suspended near his opened door. “Me either. I’m going up to Jackson Hole with the girls in about an hour,” she said, and shared the reason with Harper. At first, she saw his gray eyes darken with concern. It was never far from her consciousness, Cree Elson being up there. The more she explained it, the less concerned he became.
Pushing several damp strands of hair off his brow after removing his glove, Harper said, “That sounds like a great spring break for you gals. What time will you be back?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been in a wedding party before.”
Smiling, Harper said, “Well, after wine and food midafternoon, you’re probably not going to be too hungry whenever you get home.”
“Probably not,” and then she added, “I’ll bring home a doggie bag with the goodies in it for you. Okay?” Her heart expanded as his smile deepened, but it was the burning look in his gray eyes that set her lower body on fire. Tara had finally decided that what was between them was strong and constant, and now, her hormones were also thrown unexpectedly into the mix. She couldn’t resist watching his mouth, constantly wondering what it would be like to kiss Harper. Every night, lying awake, wanting him, wanting more intimacy. Yet, he never made a move to let her know he wanted the same thing from her, although she sensed he did. What was stopping him?
Pulling on his gloves, he said, “Sure, bring those goodies home. We’ve got some gumbo soup I made earlier this week. We’ll have soup and whatever you bring back.”
“I’m sure there’s going to be dessert, too.”
“Even better,” Harper said, picking up the pitchfork. “Well, I gotta get Puzzle’s stall finished and then we’re done for the day.”
“Do you want me to go get Candy and Ebony? Bring them back to the broodmare stall?”
“Nah,” he said, “let them stay out for a while longer. Good mental health for both of them. Ebony’s getting to the age and stage where she needs to be out all the time to become strong.”
“No question,” Tara agreed. Lifting her hand, she said, “Okay, see you later.”
Harper frowned and halted just inside the box stall. “Listen, just be careful up there, okay? I know you’re black ops–trained, Tara, but I don’t trust Elson.”
A chill moved down her spine as she halted. “Yes, I’m jumpy about it, too.”
“Well,” he drawled, “just stay alert. I don’t think Cree will try to bother you if he sees you. And if he does, then you’re with a group of women who have seen combat and they’ll be there to defend and protect you. But I don’t really think it’s going to come to that. Just be alert, is all.”
Nodding, Tara whispered, “I hate this, Harper.”
Giving her a sympathetic look, he said, “I know you do. There’s not much anyone can do about it. Elson is allowed to live wherever he wants whether he’s a felon or not.”
“I know,” she grumbled. Lifting her hand, she said, “I’ll see you tonight sometime.”
“Have fun.”
Turning, she moved down the clean, wide aisle and headed for the front door to the arena. Some of her excitement had been dulled by their conversation. Anger burned in her that she had to remain on constant guard. There was nothing fair about being stalked, kidnapped and then having the bastard fifty miles away. Tara longed for the day when she could honestly feel free again at home. She knew her parents worried constantly about Cree. He was a dark shadow that bred terror within her. Even Harper’s concerned expression sent fear through her. If she wasn’t reading him wrong, it looked like he almost wanted to escort them up there and be a big, bad guard dog for the wedding party. But he said nothing. And she wasn’t going to ask him to do it. This was supposed to be a girls’ afternoon out. They were going to help Kira find the right wedding dress. She should be happy, looking forward to it.
Instead, as she pushed through the door and then closed it, the sun falling warmly upon her, Tara felt that old sense of dread. It was nothing specific; it was just that old fear creating turmoil in her tightened gut.
She swung off the concrete sidewalk to the wide, wooden path that led up the slightly sloped hill to her home. All four houses sat in a row and the wooden sidewalk had been built earlier for Dair, when she’d been in a wheelchair, recovering from an injury. Everyone on the Bar C had chipped in to build the wooden sidewalk for her and in a day’s time and a lot of hard, constant work, they’d done just that. She liked the way her boots echoed on the wood, the sound soothing some of her fear, dissolving it.
*
Tara knew Maud Whitcomb. Everyone in the valley did. But still, she’d been young when she left and she wondered if Maud remembered her.
Kira, Dair and Shay bubbled over the fifty-five-year-old matriarch of Wind River Valley and her world-famous architect husband, Steve. They owned the largest ranch in the valley; it had come down through Steve’s ranching family from 1850 to the present. She was amazed to find out they were millionaires many times over but also very generous with their money. One of the many ideas they were putting into practi
ce was persuading people who drove through the valley to stop here for more than gas. This route led straight to Jackson Hole, which was the gateway to Teton National Park and Yellowstone Park. They were working with businesses and other ranches in the valley to build excitement so travelers would stay one or two days before continuing their drive north.
Tara had been warned that Maud, who was five-foot-seven-inches tall, rarely went anywhere without her red baseball cap on her short black and silver hair. That as she looked around, her light gray eyes were like an eagle’s all-seeing gaze. She was wiry and darkly suntanned. Maud was the rancher and ran Wind River Ranch while Steve had global customers for his architecture business. She was a socialite, had good taste and loved get-togethers like this one.
When they pulled into Jilly’s Wedding Shop, which was on the main plaza of Jackson Hole, it was one p.m. The cow town, even in early May, was packed with hundreds of tourists walking along the wooden boardwalk that comprised the square. Tara knew she’d have a tough time spotting Cree Elson if he was around.
Across from the small wedding shop and the plaza was the Red Pickup Saloon. Cree worked there. The whole plaza was crammed with parked cars sporting out-of-state license plates, tourists noodling through the businesses that were strung together. It was hectic energy, and as Tara got out, keeping her Canon around her neck because she was the official photographer for today’s event, her gaze swung to the Red Pickup Saloon.
It was nothing but hordes of people who had gone there for lunch, people who would stop and peer through the big plate-glass windows, and the wooden saloon doors were flapping back and forth with patrons coming and going. Tara knew Cree worked as a dishwasher, so he wouldn’t be out front where she might spot him.
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