by Forsaken
“Your brother stopped by earlier.”
“Ahh,” he said and took a step back. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Do you? Why did you lie to me?”
“I had every intention of going out to the ranch. I tried, numerous times. But you want to know the truth? I can’t face my brother. I’m a coward.”
“A coward wouldn’t have thrown himself in front of a speeding pickup today to save my life.”
He shrugged. “If I’d had time to think about what I was doing...”
“Why do you do that?”
“What?”
“Put yourself down.”
“I like to beat other people to it,” he said with a laugh, but there was no humor in the sound.
“J.D.,” she said, squeezing his shoulder. “It isn’t too late to rewrite your life from this point on.”
He smiled, his gaze caressing her face. “When I’m with you, I believe that’s true.”
“Taylor wanted to see you.”
He chuckled. “I’ll just bet he did. Probably wonders what I’m up to.”
“Would it help if I went out there with you?”
“You’d do that?” J.D. sounded touched.
“I would.”
“Tomorrow, then,” he said. “Tonight, though...”
She smiled as he went to lock the front door and put out the Closed sign. “I’m not sure what you have in mind, but I just survived a hit-and-run accident.”
His gaze met hers. He knew that wasn’t the only reason she wasn’t going to sleep with him again. “All I have on the menu tonight is dinner. I picked us up a couple of steaks earlier, and I’m cooking them for us.”
“What are we celebrating?” she asked.
“That we’re still both alive, sweetheart. We’re still both alive.”
* * *
JAMISON LAY ON the cot, with Maddie curled in his arms, and listened to the storm raging outside. He could see where the snow had drifted high against the side of the tent, but it was warm under the sleeping bag with her. The fire in the stove crackled softly. Lucy lay curled on the rug on the floor. He couldn’t imagine a time he’d felt more content.
“Did you ever imagine yourself trapped in a snowstorm in the wilderness?” she asked.
He laughed. “I could never imagine any of this.” He kissed her gently. “There is no one I’d rather be trapped with than you, though.”
She smiled, but he saw a change in her eyes. They seemed to dim.
“You didn’t come out here planning to stay, did you?”
He met her gaze, surprised by her question. “I just wanted a change. This is definitely a change from New York City.” She was right and they both knew it. He had planned to stay for a year, definitely not any longer. He’d just needed to get away. He’d always known he would be going back to New York. His boss had insisted he take a sabbatical instead of quit outright. He was holding his job for him.
He started to tell her that, but before he could admit the truth, she said, “You know the drug runners will come for their cargo.”
“They won’t be able to travel any better than we did in this storm.”
“That’s assuming they weren’t already on their way before the storm began.” He’d thought of that but hadn’t wanted to voice it.
“They will be much more interested in getting the cocaine out of the mountains than anything else.” He hoped that was the case, anyway. He’d dealt with criminals for too long not to know that they didn’t like leaving loose ends.
They would have to know that someone would come looking for the sheepherder. He suspected that if they had a contact out of these mountains, that person might have already heard about Dewey coming out, acting terrified and covered in blood. Jamison had seen the way news traveled in this county and doubted he was the only person Fuzz Carpenter had told.
So he had to assume the men who would be hiking in to get the drugs would know that a ranch woman and a deputy were in the sheep camp looking for the sheepherder.
“Do you think you can find your way out once the storm stops?” she asked.
“I’m not going without you.” He could tell that she’d figured all this out already. Once the storm let up, they would have to get help as quickly as possible.
She met his gaze. “I’m not leaving my sheep. Once the storm stops, they will have to be moved to pasture where the snow isn’t so deep. You’ll be back before I know it with the cavalry. You can’t let those bastards get away with what they did to Branch—and Dewey for that matter, too.”
He pushed up on one elbow to look down at her. “Maddie, if you think I’m leaving you here alone—”
She pressed her finger to his lips. “You have no choice. I can take care of myself, and I don’t want to spend what time we have left arguing.” She put her arms around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. He didn’t struggle long.
* * *
MADDIE LOST HERSELF in this gentle, loving man. Jamison had worked his way into her trust, her heart and her bed. She’d given herself to him freely, expecting nothing in return.
She’d never felt so close to anyone, especially someone she’d known for such a short time. She could only assume it was because of what they had been through together.
After finding Branch, she had been ready to give up. Nothing had mattered. But she’d had Jamison to worry about. She’d needed to get him back to the camp.
So she had. That was the way it had been for years. She’d done what had to be done no matter how hard it had been. Or how empty it had felt. She’d been going through the motions for years—even before she lost her husband and son. Saving the ranch had taken so much out of all of them—and it had gotten not just Hank and Matthew killed, but Branch, as well.
She brushed at her tears. “I lost my husband and son four years ago. They got caught in an avalanche up here. It had been a long winter, more snowfall than usual. I tried to talk them out of bringing the sheep up so early...”
“I’m sorry.”
“I went on because I had Branch to worry about. Today I realized he probably only kept doing this because of me. He was getting too old for this life. He had to know that and yet, he wouldn’t have stopped...” Her voice broke.
He pulled her close. “You were lucky to have each other. Like you said, you kept each other going when probably neither of you had the strength to go on alone.”
She nodded against his chest. She’d noticed that he hadn’t been toying at his ring finger. The ghost of a line was still there from his wedding ring, but it was fading.
“Tell me what it was like growing up back East,” she said, changing the subject. “I want to hear about summer camp.”
He laughed.
“Was it as decadent as I suspect it was?”
“You’ll be disappointed if I tell you it wasn’t, huh.”
She listened as he told her about his childhood. She didn’t want this night to end and yet, as she looked into his handsome face, she knew it would. She tried not to think about what would happen after that.
But she couldn’t help realizing that once she got off this mountain, she couldn’t keep telling herself that everything would be all right.
“I think my sheep-ranching days are over,” she said later as they lay entwined on the cot. “I’m tired of being part of a dying breed.”
“That can’t be true.”
She pushed up on one elbow to look down into his face. “I sell my lambs for food mostly because wool has been replaced by synthetic fabrics. The number of sheep in this country was once about fifty million back in the early 1940s. Now it’s down to about five million.”
“What will you do if you don’t ranch?”
She laughed and lay back to stare up at the tent’s ceiling. In that moment of silence, she could hear snow pelting the top of the tent.
“Do?” she repeated. “Whatever I want. No more frosty mornings spent bottle-feeding baby lambs and cold nights lambing when if I st
ood in a spot too long, my boots would freeze to the floor.”
“You know what I hear in your voice? The hardships, yes. But more the love you have for what you do. You’ve fought for your ranch. You and an aging sheepherder have kept things together against all odds.”
She laughed, but it came out sounding more like a sob. “And now it is just me. I’m sorry, but I no longer have the fight left in me.”
Jamison kissed her. “There is plenty of fight left in you. You just have to decide what you want to do with it.”
They made love again as the storm raged outside the tent. They must have dozed. She woke later to find Jamison throwing more wood into the stove. He’d made them something to eat. She could smell bacon, the last of it. They would be eating lamb if they weren’t able to get out of here tomorrow.
Maddie tried not to think about it. She knew he would launch another argument in the morning about leaving her here alone. She wouldn’t be alone, she thought as she listened to Lucy snoring softly on the floor between the cots.
She could no more leave Lucy than she could her sheep. The snow would be too deep for the dog to keep up. No, she would stay here. This was her responsibility. She’d gotten them all into this.
After she and Jamison ate, they huddled together under their sleeping bags and talked about the years they’d spent growing up. Where once she’d thought them so different, their backgrounds as opposite as night and day, she now found the similarities. It was the little things that bonded people, she thought later as the two of them curled up again under the sleeping bags and, listening to the snow piling up outside the tent, fell asleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY
FRANK HAD NEVER been so angry or so scared. He couldn’t stand another day of being afraid for Lynette—or being forced to keep his distance from the woman he loved for fear of what Pam would do. He wasn’t losing Lynette to J.D., that was for damned sure.
Pam had tried to kill Lynette.
He still couldn’t get his mind around it as he drove up the Boulder River Valley. And yet again, there was no proof even though Kate had thought it had been a woman behind the wheel. But there was no doubt in his mind.
He still couldn’t believe how far Pam would go to get her vengeance. But why did that surprise him? She’d taken a baseball bat to him. He’d hurt her, unintentionally. But Lynette had done nothing to Pam. She’d just had the bad luck of being loved by him.
He had to fix this. Pam had now pushed him too far. That was his only thought as he sped toward the Westfall ranch house. Maybe the judge had rescinded his alibi, but Frank knew that Judge Westfall thought of Pam as a daughter. He’d still help her, no matter what he said. If Pam was there...
Frank didn’t let that thought go any further. He’d do whatever he had to to protect Lynette. He’d failed Tiffany, but he would spend the rest of his life trying to make that right, too.
On the drive up the Boulder, he had found himself caught up in the past as if by rehashing it in his mind he could change it. By the time he pulled up in front of the judge’s house, he’d hoped to be calmer. He wasn’t.
Storming up the porch steps, he was met at the door by Judge Bull Westfall. Bull had gotten his nickname due to his stature. He was short and compact and looked as strong as a bull.
The man had obviously been expecting him. “She’s not here.”
“I’d like to see that for myself.”
“I already told Dillon—”
“You expect me to believe you? You gave her an alibi the night she almost killed me.”
“I’m sorry about that. I never would have said she was here unless I believed it.”
“Really? Then you have no problem with me searching the ranch.”
Bull stood firmly, blocking the doorway. “I resent you not trusting my word.”
“Did I mention that I believe her accomplice the night she visited my house was your grandson Billy?”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Frank laughed. “No, you don’t. Step aside, Bull. I’m coming in.”
“I don’t think so. Not without a warrant.”
He grabbed a handful of the judge’s shirt in his hand and was about to force his way in one way or the other, when he heard the sound of a siren fill the air.
Frank swore as the sheriff’s-department SUV roared up in the yard. Lynette must have called Dillon.
The judge broke free of his hold. “You’re damned lucky I’m not going to press charges, Sheriff. Although I think a night in jail might do you some good. You are aware there is a restraining order barring you from these premises, aren’t you?”
“Pam just tried to kill Lynette Benton,” Frank said with a curse. “Tried to run her down in the street.”
Bull shook his head, looking more sad than surprised. “I had no idea she was so sick. But Pam isn’t here. I won’t protect her. You have my word.”
Frank heard Dillon get out of his SUV.
“You need to leave, Frank,” Bull said. “I’m going to overlook this as long as you leave now.”
“He’s right, Frank,” Dillon said as he moved to the bottom of the porch steps. “You don’t want to push this any further.”
“If you try to force your way into my home without a warrant, I will have the undersheriff here arrest you, and I will press charges,” Bull said. “What’s it going to be, Frank?”
“Is this because I wouldn’t hire your grandson back on the force?” Frank asked.
“This has nothing to do with Billy.”
“Like hell. He’s up to his eyeballs in whatever Pam has going on.”
“Dillon, you’re my witness. If Frank doesn’t leave now—”
“He’s leaving,” the undersheriff said as he started up the stairs.
Frank had never been this angry in his life. His blood felt as if it were boiling. He could hardly see straight, and his heart felt as if it were about to burst from his chest.
He wanted to shove Bull aside and search the premises, screw a warrant, but the reasonable side of him made him take a step back.
It was enough. Bull retreated into the house, closing the front door behind him.
“I don’t trust him,” Frank said and turned to look at the undersheriff.
Dillon had his hat off and was raking a hand through his hair. He looked irritated as hell and disappointed. “Why don’t we discuss this back at the office,” he suggested. “I’ll follow you. You do remember the way to the office, don’t you, Frank?”
* * *
ALEX HAD NEVER been so glad to see the plane wreckage as he stepped from the falling snow into the thick stand of pines. They’d heard an eerie sound before they’d reached the down site. He realized now that it seemed to be coming from the wrecked aircraft. It raised the hair at his neck and sent a chill through him as he stepped closer.
Geoff had said the pilot was dead, but—
“What is that sound?” he asked, hating that his voice wavered.
“Just the wind whistling off the metal of the plane,” Geoff said, sounding amused that it had spooked him.
The crushed metal seemed to gleam in the faint snow-light. Alex had lost faith that they would ever find the damned plane, especially in a snowstorm.
“I told you I knew where I was going,” Geoff said belligerently as he limped past him now toward the plane.
“Yeah, but let’s not forget the times you got us lost on the way here.” Even with the global tracking system Geoff had brought, they’d had a hell of a time finding the plane.
“It wasn’t my fault I kept losing the signal,” Geoff snapped. “I didn’t think I would have to find my way back here in a damned storm.”
They were all cold and wet and exhausted from fighting the storm. Alex saw that there was less snow under the dense pines, but it was no warmer. “Well, we’re here now and this isn’t so bad.”
Geoff mumbled something under his breath and headed through the trees away from him. He noticed that his former teammate was limpi
ng worse. Geoff had also pulled off his hat and gloves as if he was overheating. Alex shot Tony a glance. But Tony being Tony, he hadn’t noticed a thing. He was probably wondering when they were going to eat.
“Tony, take care of the horses,” Alex ordered.
“We need to build a fire,” Tony argued. “We’re going to freeze to death.”
“Geoff and I’ll get the fire going. You just take care of the horses. We’re going to need them to get out of here.”
As he followed Geoff to the downed plane, Alex slowed. His gaze took in the tracks, and he felt as if that other shoe he’d been worried about had just dropped.
Along with Geoff’s, there were two other tracks in the light snow and dirt under the pines. “Someone’s been here.” Even with a skim of snow in places, the tracks in the dirt were still visible. One large boot print. One smaller one. Definitely none of theirs.
Geoff glanced at the ground. “So what?” he said as he lowered himself onto a rock next to the plane and out of the weather.
Alex watched him gingerly touch his leg and wince. Was his brain so addled from the pain and the infection in his leg that he didn’t realize what this meant?
“It must be someone from that sheep camp you told us about,” Alex said, feeling the full weight of his words. That one more thing he worried about was finally staring him in the face.
“The sheepherder is dead, and the kid’s scared out of his wits and doesn’t know anything. I told you, I took care of it.”
“No, someone has been here more recently than that.” Alex glanced toward the plane. “Someone knows about our payload.”
“So let’s get it out of here before they come back,” Tony said. He stood just a few yards away. He looked cold and miserable.
“I thought I told you to take care of the horses?” Alex barked.
“Let’s load them and get out of here. We can be in Gardiner before anyone knows we’ve been here.”
“In this snowstorm?” Geoff scoffed. “I’m not going back out there until it lets up. We were lucky to make it here, but at least this was a fairly short ride. It would be insane to try to reach Gardiner in this storm.”
