Deep Woods

by Newbury, Helena

  Rufus had already moved in. Even though the roof wasn’t on yet, he’d dragged his blanket into the middle of what would eventually be the lounge and curled up on it, happy.

  Jacques, who had healed up well from his injuries, had taken care of the animals at the smallholding until we could arrange to transport them here. Now Betsy was chewing the cud on her new patch of pasture land, the chickens were clucking happily in their new coop, the pigs were rolling in the mud in their new pen and Hank was helping by eating all of the weeds..and anything else he could get hold of.

  We’d already built a barn: Betsy and Hank had gotten a roof over their heads before we did, which might have seemed crazy to some people but we’d wanted to make sure they were safe from predators. And sleeping cuddled up to Cal in a tent for the last few weeks hadn’t exactly been a hardship. Now we were working to get the house built and then came the vegetable garden, planting some wheat, a coat of paint for the barn (I was thinking red and white)...there was a lot to do, but I was loving it. We had the advantage that Cal had done all this before. The difference was, this time, he didn’t have to do it all on his own.

  The first few days after the port had been a blur. There’d been hours of questioning by the police and countless sessions with the FBI to take statement after statement, before we’d finally been allowed to get some sleep at a local motel.

  Even now, months later, the investigation was still going on. The other women were all questioned, too, and charges were being brought against Cairns, the attorney general, Ralavich, the guards who worked at the mansion, and all of the members. The club’s membership was extensive and went way beyond just the men who’d happened to be in the mansion over those few weeks. The FBI had found computer records at the mansion that led to a broad swathe of arrests across the Senate, the House, industry, and Hollywood. Every day, the press broke a new story about a man who’d thought he was untouchable being led away in handcuffs.

  Cal looked up at the cloudless sky. “Doesn’t look like it’ll rain tonight. You want to ditch the tent, spend our first night indoors?”

  I looked down at the half-built house. We’d be even cozier, sheltered by the log walls, and we could fall asleep looking up at the stars through the roof beams. “I’d like that,” I told him, and leaned over to kiss him.

  We’d stayed in the motel for a while, trying to decide where to live. Cal had claimed that he’d move to Seattle if that was what I wanted. But I knew he’d never be happy in a world of concrete and I’d gotten used to hearing the creak of branches and the whisper of the wind in the leaves. We also had to figure out what to do for money: Cal had spent all his savings on my fake passport and I was up to my eyeballs in debt.

  But then two visitors changed everything.

  The first showed up during one of our lengthy FBI debriefings. She was in her fifties, with long, ash-blonde hair and a smart suit, and told us she was Carrie Blake, head of the FBI’s New York office. She’d come all the way to Idaho to meet the people—and the dog—who’d captured Ralavich. It turned out that he’d been on their most-wanted list for a long time and things had escalated a few years ago when he’d caused chaos in New York. There was a reward for information leading to his capture and, Carrie said with a victorious smile, that we certainly qualified for that. I got the impression that this was personal, for her.

  When the reward arrived, we had to double-check that we were counting the zeroes correctly. We weren’t going to have to worry about money for a very long time. We could buy some land, build a new home, pay off my debts...and the money raised other possibilities, too.

  I’d bitten my lip when Cal had first suggested it. “It’s a lot of money.”

  “We have a lot of money, now,” he’d countered. “And it’s what you should be doing.”

  And so, later that year, I’d be going back to med school. But that still left the question of where we’d live.

  A few days later, though, our second visitor showed up. This one arrived at the motel in a black SUV and when I saw it through the window I immediately grabbed Cal’s arm, thinking of the club, even though I knew they were all in custody.

  But this SUV was different. Red and blue lights flashed from within the front grille. And when the men inside climbed out, they weren’t wannabe-military thugs in black combat fatigues. These men had crisp black suits and sunglasses, and earpieces in their ears. The sort of men you see on TV, ushering the president to his car.

  Two more men emerged from the rear. One of them was in a smart gray suit, the other in a leather jacket and jeans. But both had the same look: black hair and blue eyes and there was something in their features, in the heavy, dark brows and hard jawline. Something European, something that made me think of cold winds whipping across unyielding dark rock. They could almost have been brothers. Cal, Rufus and I met them at the door.

  The one in the suit approached slowly, the other one hanging back. Cal stepped in front of me, silently protective. But Rufus pushed past us, trotted over to the stranger and sniffed at him, then nuzzled his hand, and Cal and I relaxed because that was always a good sign.

  “Cal Whittaker?” asked the man. His accent was American but each consonant had been skimmed with a brush dipped in silver. Scottish? No, not quite….

  “Who’s asking?” rumbled Cal. The man was big but he still had to look up to meet Cal’s eyes, and Cal glowered down at him suspiciously. I put my hand on Cal’s warm bicep: Easy. And Cal gradually relaxed. After so long alone and being intimidating to push people away, it was going to take him a while to master people skills. But he was learning.

  “Kian O’Harra,” said the man, his voice gentle. I finally locked down his accent. Irish. “And I’m not here to cause you any trouble. I just admire what you did and how you handled yourself.”

  I frowned. “I know you,” I said slowly. “I saw you on TV. That thing with the President’s daughter.”

  Cal glanced at me, then looked at Kian, shocked. That was him? It had been a huge news story a few years ago. As evidenced by the fact that even Cal had heard about it, even though he only saw a newspaper once every three or four months.

  “I’ve been reading your file,” said Kian. “Wilderness survival expert, stealthy, great marksman...I was wondering if you’d be interested in a job.”

  Cal shook his head. “Don’t want to do any more tours.” His arm encircled my waist. “I found what I wanted, right here.” And my heart lifted and swelled.

  “I’m not with the military,” said Kian. “This would be an occasional thing: a few days here and there.”

  Cal’s face darkened. “Someone already gave me that speech, Mr. O’Harra. It worked on me back then but it ain’t working now. I’m not doing anyone’s dirty work for them.” And he moved to close the door.

  “I understand,” said Kian quickly. “I’ve seen your whole file...even the parts that are redacted. I have a pretty good idea what the CIA had you doing. I’m not offering you that. The opposite, in fact. Helping people in trouble. Protecting people who need it. Doing some good. My team’ll always know who they’re fighting and why.”

  Cal went quiet, but I saw the way his eyes changed. “I’ll think about it,” he muttered.

  “All I ask,” said Kian with a smile. He gave Cal a business card, then turned to me. “Ma’am,” he said respectfully. He gave Rufus an expert scratch behind the ears, then strolled back to the SUV. The man in the leather jacket followed: another recruit, I guessed.

  Cal stared long and hard at the business card as they drove away. “You’re worried he’ll use you, like they did?” I asked.

  He nodded grimly.

  “I don’t think he’s like that,” I said. “I got a good vibe from him. Rufus, too.” Cal was silent. “And if you did decide to do it, and there was even a hint of it being shady...you’d be out, right?”

  “Hell yeah,” he said savagely.

  I waited, giving him time, because I knew his doubts were only part of it.


  He sat down on the bed. “Wouldn’t want to be away from you,” he muttered.

  “He said it’d only be for a few days at a time,” I countered.

  He looked at the card again, then looked at me, eyebrows raised in a question. My heart lifted. There’d been a hole in his life, ever since he left the Marines: he needed that close-knit group. He needed to serve his country, and to protect. Most of all, he needed to make things right, to do some good. This might be the chance to do that.

  But despite all that, he didn’t want to do it if I wasn’t okay with it.

  “You’d have to promise to always come home safe,” I told him.

  “There’s nothing in the world that could stop me coming home to you,” he said seriously.

  I slipped my hand into his and squeezed it. “Then yes.”

  Rufus, deciding that he was being left out, pushed his way between us. We gave him simultaneous ear scratches and he pushed his head into our hands, hind leg beating the floor in ecstasy, tail whacking our legs.

  After a few long phone calls with Kian, the details were hammered out. Cal would be on a generous retainer, in return for going on a job for a few days once a month or so. The team would be based in a small town in Colorado, where they could train and live in private.

  Cal and I looked at each other. Colorado. Plenty of wilderness on our doorstep, but a fresh start after everything that had happened in Idaho. It sounded good. And I’d been thinking a lot about what Cal had said about his childhood home, on the very edge of a town: still in the wilds, but close enough for company. A balance.

  So that’s what we’d done. We’d bought a plot of land right on the edge of the town. We could still walk into the center and it was connected to the roads by a private dirt track, so we could use a pickup if we were taking a long trip. But the cabin would be screened from the road by trees, and there would be nothing behind it but forest. I could go to med school in Boulder and there was even a local hospital where I could try to get a job when I was ready. The air was amazingly fresh and clear and after a few long trips into the forest, Cal reported that the hunting was good. I had a feeling we were going to be happy, here.

  I climbed carefully down the ladder. Halfway down, Cal grabbed me by the waist and lifted me the rest of the way to the floor. Then he slid his arms fully around me and drew me to his chest. I pressed my cheek to his pec and we just rocked there quietly for a while. Through the glassless window frames, we could see the sun sinking behind the trees, lighting the forest up orange and gold.

  Cal used one big finger to gently lift my chin and turn my head to look at him. I gazed up at that rugged face, at those cornflower blue eyes that looked down at me with such melting intensity, and that silver string inside me pulled so tight that my whole body sang.

  He leaned down and I went up on tiptoes and somewhere in the middle, our lips met and I kissed my gentle giant.

  The kiss was soft and warm, unhurried and tender. But as our lips moved, an undercurrent began, full of dark promise and raw, animal lust. I heard him growl, low in his throat, and his hands found my ass. I traced the muscles of his back and squeezed his shoulders and he slowed, teasing me. In a few minutes, we might need to distract Rufus with some dog treats and dive into the tent for a while. But for now, the kiss turned tender again. Gentle and loving.

  A coyote howled. It would be night, soon, and we didn’t yet have windows or even a door. But I knew I’d sleep like a baby. I’d found that safety I’d always searched for, that feeling of being completely, devotedly, ferociously protected. And it came from being in his arms.

  The End

  Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed Deep Woods, please consider leaving a review.

  The story of Kian O’Harra and the President’s daughter is told in Saving Liberty. Kian, his brother Bradan and Cal will all return in a forthcoming series.