by Pamela Clare
He pushed the question from his mind and spent the morning doing things around the house. He wiped down the counters and the stove, swept the floors, took out the trash and recycling, and brought in the plastic coffee can lid she’d used as a spirit plate for breakfast. Then he started a load of laundry.
Needing to stay busy, he sat down with his laptop to catch up on email. Then he brushed his teeth and took a shower. He’d just put on his jeans when Winona ran through the door, calling for him.
“Jason?”
He stepped out of the bedroom. “What is it?”
She was almost breathless with excitement, her brown eyes wide. “The Cimarron donated twenty-five thousand dollars to the clinic. That covers my operating expenses for the rest of the year and beyond. Can you believe that?”
Jason was impressed. “They said they’d make a donation. Those Wests never do anything half-assed.”
“There’s more. Someone dropped this through the front door.” She held out an envelope. “It’s for you from the Cimarron.”
Jason read his name on the front, saw the Cimarron stamp on the back, and opened it. Then it was his turn to be surprised. “It’s a check for two thousand. They didn’t have to do that.”
There was a letter, too, a short, handwritten message signed by Jack, offering their thanks, praising him for his skill, and inviting him to visit the ranch anytime.
“Maybe that money will help you deal with the month of unpaid leave.”
“I’ve got enough saved up.” When he got back to Sells, he would deposit the money and donate it to Winona’s clinic. “How are things with the animals?”
“The critters are doing well. My volunteers did a great job of keeping up with cleaning and feeding while I was out. I examined the beaver, raccoon, and fox, ordered some supplies, and called Dan, the game warden, to let him know we can schedule the eagle’s release. He told me they’ve been looking for the wolf but so far haven’t seen more than tracks. They’re busy with that and want to wait to release the eagle until next week. Maybe you can be there.”
Jason saw the hope in her eyes, a fragile hope that he would still be here in Scarlet Springs. “I would love that.”
Her face lit up. “I thought we could maybe grab lunch at Knockers and then go to the climbing gym. The Team usually trains there on Thursday afternoons.”
But Jason had a better idea. “How about we skip lunch, skip the climbing gym—whatever that is—and get naked. I have some things I’d like to do to that sweet body of yours if you’d let me.”
Her pupils dilated, but she feigned disinterest. “Hmm. Like what?”
He grasped her waist, drew her near. “I thought I could start by stripping you naked and then kissing every inch of you.”
She looked up at him through big brown eyes. “And then what?”
“I could tie you to the bed and do my best to make you scream.” He ducked down and nuzzled the skin beneath her ear, inhaling her scent. “Or I could go down on you and make you wait for it like you did to me this morning. Or bend you over and fuck you from behind. I promise you won’t need to read a book.”
She slid her hands over his ass, her touch arousing even through denim. “Well, I do enjoy reading, but if you think you’re up for all that...”
He ground his pelvis against her, let her feel his erection. “Oh, I’m up for it. The question is can you take it?”
“I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
“My thoughts exactly.” He scooped her off her feet, laughing at her shriek of surprise, and carried her into her bedroom.
Wrists still bound with her bandana, Winona lay face down on her bed, out of breath and spent, little tremors of pleasure washing through her as her climax slowly faded. Jason rolled onto his back beside her, and she felt him moving around—probably to get rid of the condom. Then he reached over to unbind her, warm lips pressing kisses against her shoulder.
She rolled onto her back, opened her eyes, found him smiling down at her. She tried to speak but had to swallow first, her throat dry from all the noise she’d made, all that moaning and crying out. “You are so good.”
How could she go back to her sexless existence after this? How could she ever desire any man other than Jason?
Don’t think about it.
He chuckled, kissed her forehead. “So, you didn’t get bored?”
“Bored?” Then she remembered and laughed. “No.”
He drew her into his arms, and for a few minutes, they lay together in golden silence, cocooned in the afterglow of great sex, their bodies replete. His scent was all over her, and hers on him, the air heavy with salt and musk.
Then Winona’s stomach growled. “I’m hungry.”
He reached for his phone, glanced at the screen. “I’m not surprised. We didn’t eat lunch, and it’s almost five-thirty.”
She stared at him. “No way! We’ve been at this for five hours? How can that be?”
They had done it all, all of the things he’d suggested—and more.
“There were breaks in between, and you fell asleep once, remember?”
“More like I passed out.”
He grinned, his fingers caressing her spine. “It was sudden. One minute you were screaming, and the next you were out.”
“I wasn’t screaming. That’s too dramatic a term for it.”
He chuckled. “If you say so.”
She sat up, gave herself a moment to adjust, her body like linguine. “I’m going to take a shower, and then we’ll head to Knockers.”
They walked the short distance to Knockers, holding hands. They ran into Bear at the roundabout. He greeted Winona with a big smile, most of which was hidden beneath his beard. “Winona Belcourt!”
“Bear, it’s so good to see you. This is my good friend, Jason Chiago.”
Bear looked at Jason like a shy child. “Jason Chiago. I am Winona’s friend, too.”
Jason squeezed Winona’s hand, then released and reached for Bear’s. “She told me about you. I’m so happy to meet you.”
Winona’s heart melted at the compassion she saw in Jason’s eyes.
Bear shook Jason’s hand. “She takes care of animals.”
“She does—and so do you. That’s what I’ve heard.”
Bear shuffled his feet, clearly both touched and embarrassed by Jason’s words. He fell back on Scripture. “Whatever you did to the least of these, you did to me.”
Jason nodded. “That’s right.”
Winona asked the obvious question. “Have you had supper?”
Bear shook his head.
“Want to come with us to Knockers? I’ll buy your favorite meal.”
His face lit up.
The three of them walked the last block and a half to Knockers. It was just after six, the parking lot starting to fill, the band not yet onstage.
Rain met them at the door, her hair tied up with a red scarf, a bright smile on her face. “Hey, Bear! I’ve got your favorite table set aside. Come on over.”
Winona grabbed a menu for Jason. “It’s on me tonight, Rain. Thanks. Enjoy your supper, Bear.”
Rain winked. “Thanks, Win.”
A cheer came from the back corner.
“Sounds like at least some of the Team are here tonight.” Winona led Jason back to the Team table, where Bahir, Megs, and Ahearn were beaming at Sasha, who was on her way down from a new route on the wall, with Nicole on belay.
Megs glanced over, saw them, and filled them in. “Hey! Have a seat. Sasha just sent a five-thirteen on the first try—nailed it.”
“I’m sorry we missed it.” Winona sat beside Jason, handed him his menu. “Watching Sasha climb is watching an artist in action.”
“Sounds impressive.” Clearly, none of this made sense to Jason.
Megs must have realized that, too, because she started explaining the rating system and how the route-setter changed the routes on the wall regularly to keep them challenging. By the time they’d finished their meal
s—Jason a steak and Winona a roast chicken breast—Jason understood some of the terminology.
“Come climb with me. I’ll show you how to belay.” Bahir got to his feet.
But the Timberline Mudbugs had hit the stage.
“He can’t be your belay slave, Bahir, because he’s dancing with me—or do Desert People not know how to do the two-step?”
Jason stood, his lips slowly curving into a grin that made her belly flutter. “Oh, angel, I invented it. You come along now—and try to keep up.”
They made their way to the dance floor, where Jason took the lead. She couldn’t take her gaze off his face as they promenaded around the dance floor. Just like in the bedroom, he knew all the moves, and she realized at some point that people were watching. No, not people. All the women were watching.
Sorry, but he’s mine.
That song ended, Jason and Winona applauding along with everyone else. The next song was a slow number.
Jason drew Winona close. “I think I like this better.”
Buzz-buzz. Buzz-buzz.
She stopped. “My pager.”
She drew it out, scrolled through the message. “I’m sorry, Jason. The Team just got toned out. I need to go. You can stay if you want. I can give you my key.”
She hurried back to the table, where Megs and the others were gathering their jackets and bags.
Megs dropped a twenty on the table. “Looks like we’ve got someone running the Scarlet Midnight Triathlon. Let’s move, people!”
Rain hurried over. She’d seen that they were leaving and understood. “Don’t worry about your checks. We’ll settle up next time. I’ve got Bear, Win. Stay safe.”
“Thanks, Rain.” Winona got to her feet.
Megs turned to Winona. “Chiago might be able to help us on this one. Can you track in the dark?”
Jason looked at Megs as if she were crazy. “Of course.”
“Then I would be delighted to have you join us. Just do what you’re told, and don’t get in anyone’s way.”
Jason met Winona’s gaze, a humorous glint in his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”
Jason sat in the passenger seat of Winona’s SUV, wearing a reflective vest over his jacket, a yellow Team T-shirt beneath. They’d left Scarlet behind and were headed downhill through a narrow canyon. He had to ask. “What exactly is the Scarlet Midnight Triathlon? Do people race at night around here?”
For some reason, Winona found this funny. “Sorry. I should have explained. The Scarlet Midnight Triathlon is Megs’ term for a rescue where someone drove up the canyon drunk, went off the highway into the creek, and then ran away to avoid prosecution, leaving their vehicle in the water. Rescue humor.”
Jason laughed. It wasn’t funny—and yet it was. “I take it this happens a lot.”
“It happens often enough to get a nickname.” She turned on the heater. “The scary thing is that we never know what we’ll find. In the winter and fall, when the water is low, most people survive, though someone who is severely intoxicated could pass out and drown in six inches of water. In the spring and summer, when the water is high, it’s a swift-water rescue, which is a lot more dangerous. People have drowned in their vehicles or been swept away, even little children.”
Jason caught a glimpse of the creek twenty feet below to his right. “I’m surprised they survive the crash.”
“They don’t always, and then we get toned out to help with body recovery.”
Jason knew how hard that job was. “We just passed mile marker twenty-four.”
Around the next bend, they saw flares and flashing red-and-blue lights. Just ahead, a sheriff’s deputy directed traffic. The deputy saw Winona and waved her through. She slowed, pulled to the shoulder, and parked behind a row of vehicles, including several sheriff’s vehicles, a fire truck, a rescue vehicle, and a big tow truck.
Jason instinctively assessed the situation from a law-enforcement standpoint. The dark. The narrow highway. The steep, rocky drop-off to his right. The sheer rock wall to their left. Yeah, he could see how this kind of rescue might be dangerous.
If another drunk driver came along at high speeds…
He climbed out and met Winona at her liftgate.
She pulled out her backpack and a helmet, put her radio on her belt, clipped the hand mic to her jacket, and slipped the earpiece into her ear. “Just stand off to the side until Megs calls for you.”
He took her helmet, settled it onto her head, fastened the strap. “You got it.”
Below them in the water was a battered, orange Ford Pinto lying on its roof in several inches of water, both doors open. Around him, Team members worked with efficiency. Jason recognized the anchor, as they called it, its ropes leading down to the water so Team members wouldn’t risk falling on the steep jumble of rocks. Uniformed officers and Team members in reflective vests moved downstream through the water, looking for any sign of the vehicle’s occupant.
It was going to take them forever to find the driver that way.
Megs walked up to him. “What would you do in this situation?”
“I’d head down with a flashlight, walk along the banks in both directions on either side of the creek, expanding my search until I found sign. Then I’d follow the sign until I found the driver.”
“Let’s get you down there.”
Five minutes later, with some expert help, he was wearing a climbing harness and a helmet and was roped in.
“I’m on belay,” Sasha called to him. “Go ahead and climb down.”
It struck Jason as strange that he, a guy from Sells, Arizona, was being belayed into a creek in the Colorado mountains by the world’s top women’s sports climber.
He reached the water safely, where Nicole freed him from the rope.
“You’re set,” she said. “Thanks for coming out with us tonight.”
“My pleasure.” He took his flashlight and got to work, Megs and the fire chief, Eric Hawke, walking along behind him. The Pinto’s driver’s side door faced the highway, so he started on that side.
“I appreciate your help.” Hawke stepped carefully, and Jason remembered that he’d been severely burned just a couple of months ago. “We called in the plates, so we should have the driver’s name soon.”
Already, the movement of law enforcement and Team members had compromised the scene. But a little further on, Jason found what he was looking for—sign. An overturned rock lay on the embankment, a thread of denim caught on a shrub beside it.
Jason plucked up the thread, held it up. “He tried to climb out here, but he was too drunk. Or maybe it was too steep.”
“How the hell…?” Hawke muttered.
“I told you he was good,” Megs said.
“See the stone? Someone stepped on it, turned it over. The moss is on the bottom, and the muddy side is facing up.”
Hawke nodded. “It seems obvious when you put it like that.”
Jason kept the grin off his face and walked a little farther upstream. “He tried again here—and threw up on the sand. Most of it washed away.”
Water lapped at a small pile of vomit, peas, carrots, and mucus swirling in an eddy nearby.
Megs bent to look. “Gross.”
When he found nothing more upstream, he went back to the spot where he’d found the vomit and crossed over. Almost immediately, he saw—unevenly spaced footprints rambling up the embankment, a palm print, and a slight indentation where someone had fallen onto one knee.
“Here.” He climbed up, moving his flashlight back and forth.
Two eyes stared back at him from the cover of a large bush ten feet uphill.
“Hank!” Eric shook his head. “Man, I thought you were beyond this now. You went to rehab, got clean. You’ve been driving to Boulder so that we won’t know you’re off the wagon, haven’t you?”
“I’m a weak man, Hawke.” Hank stood, stumbled out of his bush. He was a small, wiry man, his long, thinning hair pulled into a scraggly ponytail, a mustache on his face, his shirt sta
ined with vomit. “I didn’t think you’d find me.”
“That’s because you’re drunk, Hank. Do you think you can run away from your vehicle without us knowing it was you? Did you forget you have license plates? You’re in serious trouble now.”
“Worse than when I blew up my house?”
“I think so.”
“Damn, Hawke. That kind of news would drive any man to drink.”
Megs called the news into dispatch, and a cheer went up around them.
Then Jason saw. “He’s bleeding from his temple.”
Jason climbed the embankment and helped Hank, who was unsteady on his feet, make his way down to the creek.
Hawke took hold of Hank’s arm. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get you checked out by medical before they take you to the pokey.”
Megs turned to Jason. “What do I have to do to get you on the Team?”
Didn’t Jason wish? “You’re welcome.”
Chapter 18
It was just after ten in the morning, and Winona was still in bed, her head on Jason’s chest, her heartbeat slowing. He’d woken her with soft kisses and had then made long, slow love to her, carrying her over the edge twice before letting himself go. He was almost too good to be true.
She kissed a brown nipple. “I wish every weekday could start like this. I feel so decadent. Sleeping in, sex, and coffee.”
She tried not to remember that he would be leaving soon. He’d said he wanted to stay to see the eagle released into the wild. After that…
He raised his head, confusion on his face. “Where’s the coffee?”
“For the moment, it’s just in my imagination.”
“I can fix that.” He kissed the top of her head. “Just stay where you are.”
He got up, walked naked toward the kitchen, the twin mounds of his delectable ass shifting as he moved. When he returned five minutes later carrying two full coffee mugs, she got the reverse view, his cock swaying.
He handed her the mug of coffee with milk in it. “Here.”
“That is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen—you naked and bringing me coffee.”
Jason chuckled. “I can do it again if it turns you on.”
