Dad and Mom knew how to grow the illegal plants, but were still learning how to create the essential oils, butter rubs, and tinctures needed to deliver it quicker than a cannabis brownie or cookie. Smoking it worked fastest, but Dad hated smoking the stuff, as much as he needed relief.
As soon as a cure or treatment plan could be discovered, the better. As it was, without any usable form of the drug on-hand, Cyan’s father had become more brutish and easily irritated.
Not exactly the kind of atmosphere she wanted to be in for Christmas. She trekked across the snow-covered yard, using the trail she and Samson had trudged every day since she’d brought him home. What a difference a few weeks made. She’d fallen for the dog immediately, and now, felt like they’d been together forever.
“Come on, boy, if we’re lucky, we’ll get to see Maria tomorrow, too.” Seeing her nanny on Christmas would be difficult to justify with her parents, but she didn’t care. Cyan whistled for Samson to follow as she headed straight for the snack cupboard. His jerky and hers were stuffed behind the brushes and extra blankets.
If nothing else, she could walk in there with meat on her breath.
Why not really throw Dad off?
~~~
Nothing came of the jerky breath like she’d planned. By the time she got inside, both of her parents were in bed, making that the first Christmas Eve she spent alone.
Christmas day dawned with more snow, drifting down in small crystals, not enough to really stick but enough to throw an overcast shadow on the day.
Cyan couldn’t take Samson with her. Where she was going was potentially dangerous and she didn’t want to accidentally get him shot. Kettleson wouldn’t miss when he aimed at her. She had no doubts about that man’s intention to uphold his right to shoot trespassers on sight. Even if he wasn’t provoked.
Had she not known Jareth, she would’ve suspected he’d been sent out to shoot her. She’d been raised by parents who believed the world was out to get them while at the same time believing everything that was advertised on infomercials was gospel. What a weird dichotomy.
She tiptoed down the stairs, her camera, tape recorder, and some water tucked into the small pack on her back. Slipping onto the deck, she carefully slid the slider shut.
Laughter from the hot tub area on the back deck carried to her and she blew out her pent up air on a whoosh. Her dad’s small-fiber polyneuropathy from the fibromyalgia must have calmed enough during the night or he’d never be in the Jacuzzi.
She treaded carefully down the steps, stopping by the kennel to pat Samson’s head and toss him some treats. “I can’t take you this time, boy. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” If she came back. The seriousness of what she was about to do wasn’t lost on her – if the nausea roiling around in her gut was any indication.
The hike passed too quickly for someone who wasn’t even sure she wanted to be here. But Kettleson had to be stopped. He had to be put in his place. The man was doing illegal things and making money off it. She didn’t know which was worse.
The fact that people paid him to hunt on his land, even trespassed onto Burns’ property, as well as the national forest land, which bordered the opposite side of his property, made her even more infuriated. He didn’t care where they shot, they just shot.
The trees created a natural divider between the two properties. Where Kettleson had logged his land to create easier travel for his guests, the Burns had left things alone, relying on nature to develop the forest as necessary.
Cyan’s boots sank deeper and deeper into the banked snow as she got further from game trails where the snow was packed better.
A twig snapped to her left. She stopped, breathing hard.
An image of the mangy wolf sprang to her mind. She forced herself to control her breaths, counting slowly as she opened her clenched hands. What was she doing? Why did she always run off half-cocked in search of justice without even a complete plan?
What if she didn’t even find Kettleson, but he found her? She would be so screwed.
A shot rang out and Cyan ducked, dropping to her hands and knees in the snow. She wasn’t hit, thank goodness, but what if they saw her? Where were they? The group could be anywhere.
Barking laughter drew her attention to her right, through the mass of trees she’d ignored as she searched for a break in the foliage.
They were through there. She had to get through.
Cautiously, she edged into the branches and snarly pine needles clutching and clawing at her camouflage beanie. Her rate thrummed wildly and she flinched with each crunch of her boots in the snow.
Turn back, Cy. Turn back. But she pressed on, ignoring her caution. Ignoring her intuition. The already dim lighting darkened even more as she pushed further under the thick canopy.
A breeze hit her face before she realized she reached the other side. She jerked to a stop, backing up into the shadows.
The scene before her sent bile rushing up her throat. She gagged it back, looking to the side for a moment to try to accept what was happening.
As silently as possible, she withdrew the small compact camera from the side pocket of her pack. She’d chosen that one because it took pictures without noise.
Focusing was her only concern. She snapped multiple pictures of Kettleson handling a fallen bald eagle, its white feathers ruffled and splattered with red.
Another man quartered a large bull moose, his skin already removed and the wide based antlers hefted on the back of a four-wheeler rack.
A separate trio skinned four wolves, the thin, hide less carcasses tossed to the side of the clearing about thirty feet from where she hid.
The scent of evergreens surrounding her did little to the hide the smell of death on the air.
Cyan bit her inner lip. She snapped picture after picture, grateful for the investment her parents had made in the digital camera.
A man rode up on a horse, his voice clear as it reached all the corners of the makeshift camp. “There’s a herd of elk up this way. Is it yours, Kettleson?”
“Nope, mine are over on North Pike Point for the winter. They must be wild. Go ahead and pick off what you want. Leave a couple of the males for breeding this spring. Can’t have my herd going to twist, now can we?” He elbowed the man next to him who chortled with glee.
“On my way in, I saw a fleet of sheriffs’ cars and trucks pulling into the Burns’ place. Did you want me to check on them?” Common neighborly behavior in the wilds of Montana.
Cyan’s eyes jerked to Kettleson. He didn’t have a history of taking care of his neighbors. This was her parents though. He had to have a shred of decency in him, somewhere, for his neighbors.
His smile broadened. “Nah, they’re fine. Going to jail for possession and growing marijuana, but that’s nothing we need to concern ourselves with.” He laughed again, the sound deep but with a high-pitched nasally after-effect. “We get to enjoy this day and our hunt. Let the real criminals get their justice.”
Her parents were getting arrested? There wasn’t any pot in the house, but there were only feet to the greenhouse and anyone could see the plants in there through the glass walls and ceiling.
How had they known?
Cyan backed up, replacing her camera in her pack as she snuck back out the way she came in. On the trail, she broke into a sustainable trot. She had to get home.
Had Jareth turned her parents in? He didn’t like them, that wasn’t a secret. But would he destroy their lives? Was he that type of man? If so, he wasn’t the type of man she wanted to give her heart to.
Her breath puffed before her and she pushed through it, ignoring the stitch in her side and the snowflakes melting on her cheeks. They had to be snowflakes, even if snowflakes weren’t salty or warm and it wasn’t snowing.
She stopped at the end of the trail, just before it broke onto her parents’ lawn. She covered her mouth, ducking behind the low branches of a bull pine. Kettleson’s scout wasn’t joking when he’d described a fleet. About ten
four-wheel trucks and four police cars flashed their lights on the lawn and driveway of her parents’ home.
A flash in the window and Cyan’s mom rushed to the railing of the deck, like she might throw up. Cyan covered her mouth, controlling her worried yell and morphing it more into a whimper.
Her mother focused on her for a moment, maybe she’d been watching for Cyan or something. She waved her arms and mouthed, “Run.” The silent warning was so horrified, Cyan didn’t wait. What were they doing? Was her dad in danger? What about her mother?
Would she be abandoning her parents, if she ran? All the old warnings from her parents on how the government was out to get them bombarded her and she sought safety. She didn’t believe it. She’d never given in to the drama around their conspiracy theories.
Their beliefs were hard to ignore as she witnessed the sheer number of police on the lawn of her peaceful parents’ home.
Cyan headed toward the road. If Kettleson was out hunting, Jareth would be at the ranch alone. She had to see him, had to get help.
Even if he was the one who’d turned her parents in.
Chapter 17
Jareth
If Kettleson was going to make Jareth sit out in the cold and wait all day for essentially nothing, then Jareth really didn’t have any feelings of guilt about quitting without any notice. He rubbed his hands briskly, clapping them in the gloves that weren’t working.
The man’s ego grated on Jareth’s nerves.
Jareth blew into his cupped hands to get the heat back onto his face. He peered over his gloved fingers. A figure in the distance half-stumbled and half-ran up the drive. A camouflage beanie and greenish puff-quilted coat moved with her.
He’d recognize that hour-glass shape anywhere.
As Cyan came closer, Jareth broke into a run toward her. Something was obviously wrong. Her sobs reached him at the same time the splotchy pink in her cheeks came into focus.
“Cyan, Cyan!” He pulled her into his arms when he reached her, alarmed at her shaking form. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” She couldn’t be on Kettleson land. He had to get her out of there before Kettleson came back.
Jareth looked around him, wrapping his arm around her waist and gripping her chilly fingers. Her gasping sobs shook him to the core and he couldn’t focus on anything until he knew she was okay. “Cyan, I need you to breathe, honey. Take a minute and then tell me what’s wrong.” He moved her over to lean against the split rail fencing lining the drive.
She sank onto the round fence rail, staring at their boot prints in the snow. After she controlled her sobs, she hiccupped between words. “Did you say something… about my family… to anyone? Like Kettleson?”
Panic squeezed his chest with an iron clasp. He didn’t want to lie to her. At the same time, she’d never forgive him, if she knew just what he’d told Kettleson. He shrugged it off. “Sure, I’ve mentioned you to my friends and cousins.” He laughed, disregarding the frantic panic growing in his chest. “If I didn’t tell people where I was going every day, they’d think I was off doing something I shouldn’t be.”
She lifted her sparkling sad eyes, narrowed to search his face. “Are you sure? No one else?”
“Why? Come on, Cyan, tell me what’s going on?” Jareth reached down and rubbed the soft spot behind Samson’s ear. The dog’s body went rigid and he turned, watching down the road. Jareth followed his gaze and froze as if a spotlight shined on him.
Kettleson and his entire entourage moved up the drive. Some rode horses like Kettleson himself and others drove four-wheelers pulling small trailers.
Cyan spotted them, and stood. She tucked her hands into her coat pockets and peered up at Jareth. “My dad is being arrested for possession of marijuana. No one knew about that… except you.”
Shock ripped through Jareth’s body. “What about your mom? Is she okay?”
She grimaced. “I don’t know. She told me to run from a long distance. I started down the driveway. I’m not even sure how Samson got out of the kennel. I just know a few minutes later he was running alongside me.” She glanced toward the approaching group, then turned back to him. “Do you think she’s alright?”
“I’m sure they’re both fine.” Jareth reached out and used his thumb pad to wipe away the chilly moisture from her smooth skin. “You’re alright. Don’t worry, okay? We’ll figure this out.” Dread spread out from his chest. She was going to find out it was him, have it confirmed, and there was nothing he could do about it. “Cyan, I need you to lis—”
“Darby!” Kettleson led the group and then motioned for them to move on toward the barn , past Jareth and Cyan. Kettleson fell to the rear and then stopped altogether in front of them. He reined in his horse, turning a circle until the horse was only shifting on the cold pavement.
Kettleson crossed his gloved hands and rested them on the pommel of his saddle. “She’s on my land. She’s not supposed to be.”
“I’ll get her home.” Jareth met Kettleson’s gaze. Don’t say anything. Don’t give this away. The man had actually turned in someone else on illegal activity when he was neck deep in it.
Laughing, Kettleson eyed Jareth, his tone mocking. “That’s fine, you do that. But don’t bother coming back.” He withdrew a large manila envelope from a bag over the haunches of his horse and tossed it to the snow at Jareth’s feet. “You have twenty minutes to get your things. Tell your group not to bother coming back.”
“What?” Jareth was going to quit anyway, but he didn’t think Kettleson would punish the whole group after their arrangement. Yet again, why wouldn’t he? The man didn’t have any concern for anyone but himself.
Jareth ignored the packet while he waited for Kettleson’s reply, but Cyan reached down and lifted the packet. Sweat beaded Jareth’s forehead under his hat.
Everything happened as if someone messed with a pause button. She slowly opened the envelope, peering inside. When she raised her pain-filled gaze to Jareth, she asked, “What’s this?”
Leaning forward, Kettleson chortled with glee. “Oh, that’s the rest of the twenty thousand I owe your boy for the information on your dad. After his arrest, it won’t matter what your dad says. He won’t be taken seriously now. No one listens to a druggie, little girl. He’ll most likely drop the charges, or he’ll end up going through more of an investigation.” He chuckled. “It’s all golden from here. Thanks for your help, Darby, but we’re through here.”
Kettleson stared pointedly at the both of them, then lifted his wrist and glanced at his watch. “Your twenty minutes has become eighteen. I suggest you get moving.”
Jareth couldn’t talk, his gut contorted like he’d had the breath knocked out of him. He only had eighteen minutes to get all of his things and his cousins’ stuff but he also had to take care of Cyan.
Yet judging by the betrayal on Cyan’s face, nothing he had or did would ever be enough to take care of her.
A bitter taste covered Jareth’s tongue.
She calmly handed the money packet over to Jareth, no words crossed her sweet lips.
He wanted her to rail and scream. Do something, but she patted her upper thigh and turned from him. Her strides had shifted from stumbling and out of control to sharp, long, and confident.
Angry. Oh boy, was she angry.
Seventeen minutes.
Chapter 18
Cyan
Cyan couldn’t remember ever being in so much pain that even her skin hurt.
Just from heartache.
Just from betrayal.
She’d never been lied to so blatantly before or for so long. The fact that she’d lied to him didn’t help or justify his actions. The fact that she’d fallen for him, wanted him to deny it even as Kettleson confirmed everything slammed her reality home.
He didn’t call out after her, just let her go.
Did that hurt more? She couldn’t tell as the realization that their time together consisted of Cyan falling for him and him hunting for information. How could she
be such a fool? Why didn’t she realize that they were just two liars trying to make a friendship out of nothing?
Two liars.
It wasn’t just him at fault.
She didn’t look back…
At least she didn’t at first. She forced herself to keep lifting her knees, swinging her arms, moving forward.
But she reached the end of the drive and couldn’t help it.
She turned back. Maybe he watched her, maybe he was chasing after her, maybe he was killing Kettleson – anything, anything for her. Anything that would save her from the noose of betrayal as it tightened around her throat and shut down her core.
She couldn’t even swallow.
Her lies? Of course they were bad. Of course they weren’t just limited to him. She seemed to lie to everyone. She’d lied so long to her parents, she didn’t know if she’d ever escape the mold she’d formed for herself.
Cyan’s lies with Jareth, though, hadn’t been about her or him. They’d been… they’d been to save some thing. They’d had a purpose.
Judging by the weight of the money in that envelope, his dishonesty had a purpose, too.
Did that excuse him? Or her? Really? Maybe the attraction they had for each other really was forbidden. They had nothing good to offer the other.
She slid down the icy trail toward the stream that split the two lands. She crashed through the bushes and stopped beside a large flat boulder. Leaning against its icy surface, she leaned her head back and let the tears come.
Cyan had never sobbed about her lies before. She’d never considered how much it hurt to be lied to. Was she causing this much pain to others? Maybe not with the same consequences, like jail, but withholding something from loved ones didn’t give them a chance to know her. Not the real her.
And her lies were nothing compared to what Jareth had done. Sure, she was trying to get information out of him at some point, but never to hurt him or his family. Never to degrade his family name.
Forbidden Trails: A Clearwater County Romance (The Montana Trails Series Book 2) Page 12
