Lone Rider

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by Lindsay McKenna


  Harper knew tough weeks lay ahead of them. What he didn’t want to happen was to have Elson’s death derail the love they had for each other. Tara was going to need special attention and care. And no one wanted to take care of her more than he did. It would be a balancing act because they were shorthanded at the Bar C. He wasn’t sure Tara would be able to carry out her duties for at least a week or two. Her knees were a mess and she needed time for them to fully heal before doing any kind of wrangling work.

  Knowing Reese and Shay would give Tara the time she needed, he was concerned for them, too. Worse, Garret and Kira were in Hawaii and hadn’t a clue what had happened to Tara. Harper knew there would be hell to pay from the newlyweds when they returned to the Bar C to continue their lives together. Garret, especially, would be incensed that he hadn’t been asked to join them in the hunt to find Tara. He’d get over it once he understood how fast things had moved after she’d been kidnapped. Garret couldn’t have gotten home in time to help him and Reese find her.

  Still, Harper knew it was pressure and stress on Reese and Shay. He was sure Reese would be going through a rugged time because he’d killed Elson. Harper knew from what Shay had said that Reese had to go back to the sheriff’s office tomorrow morning to give another statement to the county attorney about it. Apparently, Elson’s mother was raising holy hell, saying her son had been murdered. She was threatening to have her sons shoot Reese. That was crazy shit, Harper decided, but Sarah, the sheriff, had to take such threats seriously. Reese had blown it off, angered by the threat, nothing more.

  Nowadays, threats could turn out to be real. More and more people were resorting to shooting others who angered them or who they felt had crossed them. Harper worried about that. The Elson clan, as the residents of the valley commonly referred to them, had the them-against-us mind-set. They were outcasts, drug dealers, constantly battling the law in the county. Roberta was the queen of the clan and Cree’s three older brothers, all of whom had been in prison at one time or another, were to be wary of. They were a dysfunctional family, and Harper doubted they shared one full brain among them.

  What Reese and Shay didn’t need was for the Elsons to try to kill him to avenge Cree’s death. Harper wanted to talk to Reese about this, and bring Noah in on it, too. When Garret returned from his honeymoon, he was going to get an earful about the events that had come down after they’d left. Harper knew he wouldn’t be happy to hear the Elson clan was all wound up over Cree’s death. Already, from what Reese had told him earlier in the day, Sarah had called him to warn him about the three brothers screaming for revenge.

  Snorting softly, he buried his face in Tara’s silky hair. All he wanted to do was forget about life outside the entrance to the Bar C and concentrate on Tara.

  She was going to need his help and he intended to be there for her. Nothing else mattered. He loved her.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  June 23

  “Will this ever end?” Tara asked Harper as they left the sheriff’s office in Wind River.

  He slipped her hand into his as they ambled down the wooden sidewalk to the asphalt parking lot behind the three-story red-brick building. “In time,” he murmured, giving her a concerned look.

  “It’s horrible that Roberta is stirring up her other sons to go after Reese.”

  “Reese has already been warned by Sarah,” he soothed.

  “In some ways, I wish I didn’t know.” But she’d had to go in for another interview regarding her kidnapping with the prosecuting attorney for the county. Sarah had met them in the hall afterward, inviting them into her office, where she’d filled them in on Cree’s three brothers.

  “Better to know and be on the lookout,” Harper said. He squeezed her hand gently.

  Shrugging, she looked around at the sunny late morning and the clouds coming over the Wilson Range. There was a call for thunder showers in the area this afternoon. “I’m surprised they’re not coming after me, too. To hear Roberta talk, it was my fault Cree came after me a second time. What a sick, dysfunctional family, Harper.”

  “Bad blood. Some families never get a break. Brian, Cree’s father, was abusive to all his sons. Roberta, from what Sarah told us, was badly abused as well. The brain changes when you live under those kinds of life-and-death threats for years. Cree changed. I found it sad that the medical examiner’s autopsy found blood in his brain. He was really damaged mentally.”

  “I know,” she said softly, waiting for him to unlock the truck so she could climb into the passenger seat. “In part, it explains his obsession with me, I think.”

  Harper opened the door for Tara. “I agree. Although I’m not a doctor or a shrink, Cree was mentally unstable.”

  Tara wished this whole episode would go away. But it wasn’t about to. Roberta had already filed a lawsuit against Reese for killing her son. Now, the county prosecutor and Sarah’s office were in defense mode. She knew that eventually Reese would be cleared of the charges. Terry Larson’s camera-toting drone had shown very clearly that Cree had fired three shots at Reese before he shot back and killed him. It was self-defense. Sarah didn’t seem that concerned in that regard. What she was worried about were the three sons being stirred up by the mother to go after Reese and then go on a shooting spree, killing the vets who lived on the Bar C as well.

  Harper climbed in. “What do you say we get an early lunch at Kassie’s Café? I’ll buy.”

  She wasn’t hungry for food, but she was hungry to be with Harper. “Sure, I’d like that.”

  “Gonna eat?” he goaded, driving the truck out of the parking lot.

  She managed a weak smile. “I’ll do my best.” Since being rescued, Tara had little appetite, still cycling up and down from the shock and nearly dying. Every night, she had nightmares about Cree or about being dragged over the waterfall. And every night, Harper awoke, bringing her into his arms, holding her, making her feel safe.

  They sat in one of the black leather booths, the popular café quiet just before the lunch crowd wandered in. It was a small place with large windows, sunshine pouring in, the chatting quiet between customers and plenty of smiles and laughter from the ranchers who greeted them when they entered. Tara knew most of them, recognizing a number of the older men in cowboy garb, sitting and having coffee together.

  Harper slid in on the opposite side, hanging his Stetson on a nearby hook. He pushed his fingers through his dark hair, giving her a measured look.

  “I’m okay,” she said. “Really.” She saw Harper’s face lose some of that tension.

  The waitress came over to take their order, then left to get them coffee.

  “It’ll be good to see Garret and Kira again,” she said, wanting to get off the darkness of the Elson clan that had forever changed their lives.

  Harper brightened. “Yeah. Noah and Dair are going to pick them up at the Jackson Hole Airport tonight.”

  Grimacing, she said, “Poor Noah. He’s going to get his ears chewed off by Garret when he learns what happened to me.”

  “Nah, Noah will take care of himself. I’m sure Garret will be upset, but when he hears you’re safe, he’ll put it all in perspective. Black-ops types don’t blow things out of proportion.”

  “That’s good,” she said, thanking the waitress who brought over their coffee.

  Harper rested his elbows on the table, hands around his coffee mug. “I want to talk about us, Tara.”

  She heard emotion in his voice and saw a tenderness come to his eyes. Her heart melted beneath that look that said so much. “What about us?”

  “I know it’s too soon and you’re still unraveling from Cree kidnapping you, but I’m the kind of guy who plans far into the future.” He gave her a shy grin.

  In that moment, Harper was boyish, and her heart yearned to be with him at home, in their bed, loving him once again. Even now, her lower body grew warm with memories from two nights before. “I know you do. That’s not a black-ops thing to do,” and she laughed a little, caught up in
his infectious smile, the light gleaming in his gray eyes as he held her gaze.

  “When I married Olivia, I thought about getting out of the service and settling down. That didn’t happen, but it didn’t stop me from wanting a relationship where love came first.”

  “What was your dream?” she asked him softly, sipping her coffee, drowning in the love he was showering on her.

  “I’ve always dreamed of having what my parents have, Tara. I was an only child, but I was brought up with a whole lot of love. I’ve always dreamed of having a family. Not a big one, but maybe one or two children my wife and I could love, nurture and watch grow up before our eyes.”

  Her heart blossomed. “You know I’m an only child, too. And my parents are still, to this day, deeply in love. We’re both so lucky to come from similar homes.”

  “I know,” he rasped. “Do you know where we might go with each other?”

  She leaned back in the booth, hearing his thickened words, seeing anxiety in his gaze for a moment. Knowing how much family meant to them, she said, “When I had my therapy session with Libby the other day in Jackson Hole?”

  “Yes?”

  “I told her I’d never been happier than with you. And it wasn’t because you rescued me either. I feel we have something so rich to share with each other, Harper. I know you have to get through your paramedic courses and get your certification so you can take that job at the fire department. Me? I have to get through this emotional gauntlet of coming to terms with being kidnapped again and then Cree’s death.” She opened her hands, stumbling. “I told Libby there were hurdles in front of both of us, but that I dreamed of a time in the future when we could be together permanently. She asked me if I had any desire to have a child and I told her yes. I want two or three. I love kids, Harper. I always have.”

  Giving her a studied look, he said, “I love you, Tara. I’m not falling out of love with you. That’s not how I feel in my heart and soul. You’re the woman I’ve always dreamed of meeting and marrying.” He held up his hand. “I know a lot of our generation doesn’t marry. They just live together.” He swallowed hard and then said, “Whatever you want is fine with me. I want to wake up with you in the morning and I want to go to sleep at night with you in my arms. Everything else? It’s whatever you need, Tara. I need you. I figure if we continue to live together, we’ll know some point in the future when things look serious enough that we consider having a child.”

  Her heart widened with a river of love so profound that it chased away all her worries and dread. “I want the same thing, Harper. I don’t care where we live. I’m happy living my life with you.”

  Tara saw his expression turn soft and his eyes darkened, but it was something she’d come to discover meant he was happy. “Does that help?”

  He nodded, swallowing several times. “Yes. It takes a big load of worry off my shoulders to tell you the truth.”

  “Don’t ever stop talking with me, Harper. I want to know how you’re feeling, what you’re thinking.”

  “You always will,” he promised her. He hitched a thumb toward the door of the café. “I thought—well … I was in Bell’s Jewelry Store a few days ago.”

  She saw redness tingeing his cheeks, realizing he was blushing. Now, Harper was more like a nervous little boy, and that endeared him to her. “What were you doing over there?”

  “I went in to ask Bell if there was such a thing as a pre-engagement ring. You know? Something semi-official a woman might wear as a symbol of her love.”

  “Oh,” she whispered, feeling a glow in her heart, “sort of like what my mom would call a friendship ring?”

  “Yes, something like that.” He gave her a hopeful look. “I wanted to do something for you that would lift your spirits, Tara. At least, that’s what I hoped. Would it bother you to wear a friendship ring that symbolizes us?”

  “I wish this table wasn’t between us.”

  His grin broadened. “Really?”

  “Yes. Really.”

  “Then you want to amble over to Bell’s after lunch? Pick out something you like?”

  Touched, she felt tears sting the backs of her eyes and pushed them away. Tara felt like she’d cried ten years’ worth of tears since being rescued by Harper and Reese. Libby comforted her by saying that the deluge would slowly turn off, but that it was important to get her tears out, too. She agreed. “Yes,” she said, her voice cracking, “I would love to do that with you.”

  *

  Bell Kennedy was a slight woman of forty-five, a brunette with large blue eyes. Tara remembered her husband, Billy, who had died of prostate cancer just before she left for the military. The small but pretty jewelry store was neat, clean and had lots of light pouring through the windows. Bell was dressed in a summer yellow-and-orange sundress, her long hair artfully arranged on her head. Tara liked that Bell always dressed so beautifully, a true fashion plate. She didn’t wear a lot of jewelry, but it was obviously a real gold collar around her throat and ten or so slender bangles around her left wrist. The gold earrings were tasteful, set with white pearls.

  “Tara, good to see you,” Bell hailed from behind her glass counter. “Been a long time since I last saw you,” and she came around the end of it, opened her arms and gave Tara a big hug of hello. While squeezing her, Bell lifted her head and smiled over at Harper, who touched the brim of his Stetson to her.

  “It’s been too long,” Tara said. She eased out of the hug. “Mom and Dad said they were having a barbeque in two weeks and they were inviting you. Did you get their invite?”

  “Sure did,” Bell said. “I imagine you and Harper are attending?” and her eyes sparkled with amusement.

  “We will,” he said. “It should be a good time.”

  Bell curved her arm around Tara’s left arm and led her to a center octagonal glass display. “Now, I’m not a mind reader, dearie, but your young man was in here a couple of days ago asking about a friendship ring. Is that why you’re here today?”

  “Sure are,” Tara said. Bell moved away after showing her to the front of the display and got the key, opening it up. Harper came to her side and she smiled at him. The look in his eyes made her want to kiss him silly.

  Bell opened the top of the case. “A lot of couples love a bracelet,” and she motioned to at least a dozen of them on display to the left of Tara. “But others like a ring because it’s easier to wear. Not every woman likes to wear a bracelet.” She held up her own. “I’m a bracelet nut,” and she jangled the silver, gold and copper bangles.

  “Well, wrangling would probably tear a bracelet right off me,” Tara murmured. “Either that or rip my hand off my wrist if I got it caught in the wrong place.”

  “No, no, we wouldn’t want that,” Bell agreed briskly, bringing out a tray of friendship rings. She set them in front of Tara. “Look them over. I can get them in any size you need. There are twenty different designs here. If you don’t like any of them, I have the catalog, and I can send it home with you to look at.”

  “Thanks, Bell,” she said as the woman turned to leave them alone. Bell had always trusted people, and Tara was grateful for the privacy with Harper.

  “See any that call to you?” he asked, giving her a warm look.

  “I like this one …” and she picked up a sterling silver ring that had three small hearts across it.

  “Bell said friendship rings go on the right hand,” he suggested.

  “Umm, leaving the ring finger empty?” Tara asked as she slipped it on that hand and finger. She saw Harper’s brows raise marginally over her choice of hands. Holding it up, she looked at it. The ring was a quarter of an inch wide, the three hearts shining against the light from the windows.

  “Well,” Harper said, resting his hands on his hips as he watched her move the ring in the light, “it’s your ring. You wear it wherever it feels right.”

  “This lays flat,” she said, brushing her index finger across the hearts. “It won’t catch when I’m pulling on my work gloves an
d I can’t possibly snag it on anything.”

  He picked up her hand, taking it gently into his, studying the ring. “Looks like it was made for you.”

  She absorbed his callused, rough fingers around her own, drowning in his dark gray gaze. “Ask me why I chose three hearts instead of the other rings that had one or two of them.” She saw him smile a little.

  “Tell me?”

  “It symbolizes you, me,” and her voice lowered with emotion, “and the third one is what I hope will be our family someday, Harper.”

  He groaned, released her hand and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, bringing her tightly against him, holding her for a long time, their heads resting against each other.

  Tara closed her eyes, feeling the joy radiating from around Harper. He hadn’t said anything, but he didn’t have to. She knew how much family meant to him. It meant the same to her. They just had to get into a quieter backwater with one another, leave the drama of the kidnapping behind and get her PTSD to ramp down. Then, Tara thought, suggesting to Harper they get married and she get pregnant soon after might be the right time for that family they both wanted.

  Pulling away just enough, she brushed her lips against his. “I love you, Harper Sutton. And I never want to leave your side again.”

  He kissed her gently, moving his hand across the crown of her hair. Lifting his mouth from her lips, he smiled into her eyes. “We were meant for each other, sweetheart. I’ll always be here for you.”

  Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek at

  WIND RIVER LAWMAN

  by Lindsay McKenna.

  Coming to your favorite bookstores and e-tailers in September 2018!

  June 1

  Sheriff Sarah Carter didn’t know what the hell to do. She stared down at the ad she was going to place in the Jackson Hole, Wyoming, newspaper. Her finger hovered over the Send button. Had she gotten this right? Had she shaded or shaved off the truth of the person she was looking to hire? Conflicted, feeling as if the devil on her right shoulder was shouting at her to cut out some of the work qualifications she’d put in and the angel on her left saying it was fine as is, she sat back, frustrated.

 

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