Big Sky Standoff

by B. J Daniels

  She swore softly. While she hadn’t created the monster, she’d definitely let him out of his cage.

  DILLON WOKE WITH A START, bolting upright, confused for an instant as to where he was.

  Jacklyn Wilde had stopped the truck in a lot next to a café. As she cut the engine, her gaze was almost pitying.

  “Prison makes you a light sleeper.” He shrugged, damn sorry she’d seen that moment of panic. Prison had definitely changed his sleep patterns. Changed a lot of things, he thought. He knew the only way he could keep from going back to jail was to keep the upper hand with Ms. Wilde. And that was going to be a full-time job as it was, without her seeing any weakness in him.

  “Hungry?” she asked.

  He glanced toward the café. “Always.” It felt strange opening the pickup door, climbing out sans shackles and walking across the open parking lot without a guard or two at his side. Strange how odd freedom felt. Even freedom with strings attached.

  He quickened his step so he could open the restaurant door for her.

  Jacklyn shot him a look that said it wasn’t going to be that kind of relationship. He knew she wanted him to see her as anything but a woman. Good luck with that.

  He grinned as she graciously entered, and he followed her to a booth by the window as he tried to remember the last meal he’d had on the outside. Antelope steak over a campfire deep in the mountains, and a can of cold beans. He closed his eyes for a moment and could almost smell the aroma rising from the flames.

  “Coffee?”

  He opened his eyes to find a young, cute waitress standing next to their table. She’d put down menus and two glasses of water. He nodded to the coffee and made a point of not letting Jacklyn see him noticing how tight the waitress’s uniform skirt was as he took a long drink of his water and opened his menu.

  “I’ll have the chef salad,” Jacklyn said when the waitress returned with their coffees.

  Dillon was still looking at his menu. It had been four years on the inside. Four years with no options. And now he felt overwhelmed by all the items listed.

  “Sir?”

  He looked up at the waitress and said the first thing that came to mind. “I’ll have a burger. A cheeseburger with bacon.”

  “Fries?”

  “Sure.” It had been even longer since he’d sat in a booth across from a woman. He watched Jack take off her hat and put it on the seat next to her. Her hair was just as she’d worn it when she was chasing him years ago—a single, coal-black braid that fell most of the way down her slim back.

  He smiled, feeling as if he needed to pinch himself. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he’d be having lunch with Jacklyn Wilde in Butte, Montana. It felt surreal. Just like it felt being out of prison.

  “Something amusing?” she asked.

  “Just thinking about what the guys back at the prison would say if they could see me now, having lunch with Jack Wilde. Hell, you’re infamous back there.”

  She narrowed her gaze at him, her eyes like slits of ice beneath the dark lashes.

  “Seriously,” he said. “Mention the name Jacklyn Wilde and you can set off a whole cell block. It’s said that you always get your man, just like the Mounties. Hell, you got me.” He’d always wondered how she’d managed it. “How exactly did you do that?”

  He instantly regretted asking, knowing it was better if he never found out, because he’d had four long years to think about it. And he knew in his heart that someone had set him up. He just didn’t know who.

  “I’ll never forget that day, the first time I came face-to-face with you,” he said, smiling to hide his true feelings. “One look into those gray eyes of yours and I knew I was a goner. You do have incredible eyes.”

  “One more rule, Mr. Savage. You and I will be working together, so save your charm for a woman who might appreciate it. If there is such a woman.”

  He laughed. “That’s cold, Jack, but like I said, I understand our relationship perfectly. You have nothing to worry about when it comes to me.” He winked at her.

  Jack’s look practically gave him frostbite.

  Fortunately, the waitress brought their lunches just then, and the burger and fries warmed him up, filling his belly, settling him down a little. He liked listening to the normal sounds of the café, watching people come and go. It had been so long. He also liked watching Jacklyn Wilde.

  She ate with the same efficiency with which she drove and did her job. No wasted energy. A single-minded focus. He hadn’t entirely been kidding about her being a legend in the prison. It was one reason Dillon was so damn glad to be sitting across the table from her.

  He’d been amazed when she’d come to him with her proposition. She’d get him out of prison, but for his part, he had to teach her the tricks of his trade so she could catch a band of rustlers who’d been making some pretty big scores across Montana. At least that was her story.

  He’d seen in the papers that the cattlemen’s association was up in arms, demanding something be done. It had been all the talk in the prison, the rustlers becoming heroes among the cellies.

  What got to him was that Jack had no idea what she was offering him. He hadn’t agreed at first, because he hadn’t wanted to seem too eager. And didn’t want to make her suspicious.

  But what prisoner wouldn’t jump at the chance to get out and spend time in the most isolated parts of Montana with the woman who’d put him behind bars?

  “Where, exactly, are we headed?” he asked after he’d finished his burger. He dragged his last fry through a lake of ketchup, his gaze on her. It still felt so weird being out, eating like a normal person in a restaurant, sitting here with a woman he’d thought about every day for four years.

  Her gray eyes bored into him. “I’d prefer not to discuss business in a public place.”

  He smiled. “Well, maybe there’s something else you’d like to discuss.”

  “Other than business, you and I have nothing to say to each other,” she said, her tone as steely as her spine.

  “All right, Jack. I just thought we could get to know each other a little better, since we’re going to be working together.”

  “I know you well enough, thank you.”

  He chuckled and leaned back in the booth, making himself comfortable as he watched her finish her salad. He could tell she hated having his gaze on her. It made her uneasy, but she did a damn good job of pretending it didn’t.

  He’d let her talk him into the prerelease deal, amused by how badly she’d wanted him out of prison. She needed to stop the rustlers, to calm the cattlemen, to prove she could do her job in a macho man’s West.

  Did she suspect Dillon’s motives for going along with the deal? He could only speculate on what went through that mind of hers.

  She looked up from her plate, those gray eyes cold and calculating. As he met her gaze, he realized that if she could read his mind, it would be a short ride back to prison.

  She said nothing, just resumed eating. She was wary, though. But then, she had every reason to be mistrustful of him, didn’t she.

  Chapter Two

  Rancher Shade Waters looked across the table at his son, his temper ready to boil over—lunch guest or not.

  In fact, he suspected Nate had invited her thinking it would keep Shade from saying anything. He hadn’t seen his son in several days, and then Nate had shown up with this woman.

  “I suppose you heard,” Shade said, unable to sit here holding his tongue any longer. “Another ranch was hit last night by that band of rustlers. If they don’t catch those sons of—”

  “Do we always have to talk ranch business at meals?” Nate snapped. “You’re ruining everyone’s appetite.”

  Nate’s appetite seemed to be fine, and Shade couldn’t have cared less about Morgan Landers’s. From what he could tell, she ate like a bird. Their guest was like most of the women his son dated: skinny, snobby and greedy. He’d seen the way she’d looked around the ranch house. As if taking inventory of the a
ntiques, estimating their worth at an auction.

  Shade had no doubt what Morgan Landers would do with the ranch and the house if she got the chance.

  But then, he wasn’t about to let her get her hands on either one.

  “Please don’t mind me,” Morgan said. “This rustling thing is definitely upsetting.”

  “No one can stop them. They’ve fooled everyone and proved they’re smarter than the ranchers and especially that hotshot stock inspector, Wilde,” Nate said, clearly amused by all of it.

  “I beg your pardon?” Shade snapped, no longer even trying to keep his temper under control. How could his son be so stupid? “You sound like you admire these thieves.”

  “Well, they haven’t hit our ranch, so what do you care?”

  Shade was speechless. He’d never understood his son, but it had never crossed his mind that Nate was just plain stupid.

  He heard his voice rising as he said, “As long as those men are out there stealing cattle, this ranch is at risk. I won’t rest until they are all behind bars. And as for the man who’s leading this ring, I’d like to see him hanged from that big tree down by the creek, like he would have been if your grandfather was still alive.”

  Nate chuckled and looked at Morgan, the two sharing a private joke. “As if he can be caught.”

  “Do you know something I don’t?” the rancher asked between gritted teeth.

  “The leader of the rustlers is already behind bars,” Morgan said. “Everyone knows it’s Dillon Savage. Who else could it be?”

  “Really?” Shade looked at his son.

  “Who else could it be?” Nate said. He had the irritating habit of parroting everything Morgan said.

  “Well, for your edification, Dillon Savage is not behind bars anymore. Jacklyn Wilde got him out of prison.”

  Nate had the sense to look surprised—and worried. “Why would she do that?”

  “Supposedly to help her catch the rustlers. Isn’t that rich?” Waters said, and swore under his breath.

  Nate looked upset, but Shade doubted his concern was for their cattle. No, he thought, looking over at the woman beside his son, Nate had other worries when it came to Dillon Savage.

  “The whole damn thing was kept quiet,” Shade said, fighting his anger. “For obvious reasons.” He would have fought it tooth and nail had he known.

  “Like I said, do we have to talk about this now?” Nate asked pointedly.

  “Your guest might have more of an interest in the topic than you think,” he replied. “After all, she was Dillon Savage’s…” he looked at Morgan as if he wasn’t sure what to call their relationship “…girlfriend.”

  Nate shot him a warning look as the cook came in with another basket of warm rolls. Morgan was picking at her salad. It galled Waters that while he and Nate were having beefsteaks, Morgan had opted for rabbit food. The woman was dating a cattle rancher, for hell’s sake.

  The rancher cursed under his breath, angry at his son on so many levels he didn’t even know where to begin. Nate not only looked like his mother—blond with hazel eyes, and an aristocratic air about him—he’d also gotten her softness, something Shade had tried to “cowboy” out of him, although, regretfully, he hadn’t succeeded.

  He wished he hadn’t let Nate’s mother spoil the boy so. Now in his early thirties, Nate stood to inherit everything Shade had spent his life building. Nate had no idea the sacrifices his father had made, the obstacles he’d had to overcome, the things he’d had to do. Still had to do. Nate, like his mother, would have been shocked and repulsed if he’d known.

  Fortunately, Elizabeth had always turned a blind eye to anything her husband did, although Shade wondered if it wasn’t what had put her in an early grave. That and the loss of her firstborn son, Halsey.

  While Halsey had loved everything about ranching, Nate never took to it. And just the thought of ever turning the W Bar over to him was killing Shade.

  Nate leaned toward Morgan now, whispering something in her ear that made her chuckle coyly—and turned Shade’s stomach.

  “I’m sorry, Morgan, is talk of Dillon Savage making you uncomfortable?” he asked innocently.

  Nate shot him a warning look.

  “It’s all right, Nate,” she said, smiling at the older Waters. “Yes, I knew Dillon…well.” Her smile broadened. “Do I care that he’s out of prison? Not in the least. Dillon and I were over a long time ago.”

  Shade looked at his son to see if he believed any of that bull. Nate had never had any sense when it came to women. Apparently, he was buying everything Morgan told him, probably because he had a good view of the woman’s breasts in that low-cut top.

  “Then you didn’t write him while he was in prison or go see him?” Shade asked, ignoring the look his son gave him.

  “No,” Morgan said, her smile slipping a little. “We’d gone our separate ways long before Dillon went to prison.”

  She was lying through her teeth. He suspected that she’d been keeping Dillon up on everything going on in the county, especially at the W Bar.

  “Well,” Shade said, with exaggerated relief, “I guess the only thing Nate and I have to worry about with Savage out is losing our cattle.” He dug into his steak as he noted with some satisfaction that his son had lost his appetite.

  AS JACKLYN WILDE DROVE east past one small Montana town after another, Dillon realized he didn’t have any idea where they were headed or what she had planned for him.

  But that was the idea, wasn’t it? She wanted to keep him off balance. She didn’t want him to know too much—that had been clear from that first day she’d come to see him in prison.

  He glanced over at her now. Back when she’d been trying to catch him rustling, he’d known only what he’d heard about her. It wasn’t until he’d come face-to-face with her and the gun she had leveled at him that he’d looked into her steel-gray eyes and realized everything he’d heard about her just might be true.

  She was relentless, clever and cunning, cold and calculating. Ice water ran through her veins. In prison, anyone who’d crossed her path swore she was tougher than any man, but with a woman’s sense of justice, and therefore more dangerous.

  He couldn’t argue the point, given that she was the one who’d put him behind bars.

  “So when are you going to tell me the real reason you got me out?” he asked now.

  Outside the pickup, the landscape had changed from mountains and towering, dark green pines to rolling hills studded with sagebrush. Tall golden grasses undulated like waves in the breeze and the sky opened up, wide and blue from horizon to horizon. It truly was Big Sky Country.

  “I thought I made myself clear on that point,” she said, keeping her eyes on the road. “You’re going to help me catch rustlers.”

  He chuckled and she finally looked over at him. “Something funny about that?”

  “You didn’t get me out of prison to catch rustlers. You are perfectly capable of catching any rustler out there and we both know it.” He met her gray eyes. In this light, they were a light silver, and fathomless. The kind of eyes that you could get lost in. But then the light changed. Her gaze was again just a sheet of ice, flat and freezing.

  “I need your expertise,” she said simply.

  Right. “Well, I’ll be of little help to you if you keep me in the dark,” he said, smiling wryly as he changed tactics. “Unless you have something besides rustling on your mind. I mean, after what happened the first time we met…”

  Her eyes narrowed in warning. “The only reason you aren’t still behind bars is because you were good at rustling. That’s the only talent of yours I’m interested in.”

  He lifted a brow, still smiling. “That’s too bad. Some of my other talents are even more impressive. Like my dancing,” he added quickly. He could see she hadn’t expected that was where he was headed.

  “I’m surprised you had the time, given how busy you were stealing other people’s cattle.”

  He shrugged. “All work and
no play… What about you, Jack? What do you do for fun?”

  “Mr. Savage, I told you, our discussions will be restricted to business only.”

  “If that makes you more comfortable… How about you tell me where we’re headed then, Jack.”

  “You’ll be updated on a need to know basis, Mr. Savage, and at this point, the only thing you need to know is that I’m Investigator Wilde or Ms. Wilde. Not Jack.”

  “Still Ms., huh? I guess it’s hard to find a cowboy who’s man enough to handle a woman like you.”

  Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t take the bait.

  He gazed out the windshield, enjoying himself. There were all kinds of ways to get even, he realized. Some of them wouldn’t even get him sent back to prison.

  Too bad he’d so often in the past four years revisited the day she’d caught him. It was like worrying a sore tooth with his tongue. He’d lost more than his freedom that day.

  There’d been only one bright spot in his capture. After she’d cuffed him, he’d stumbled forward to steal one last thing: a kiss.

  He’d taken her by surprise, just as she had him with the capture. He’d thought about that kiss a lot over the years. Now, as he glanced over at her, he wondered if he’d be disappointed if he kissed her again. When he kissed her again, he thought with a grin. And he would kiss her again. If only goodbye.

  “Is there a problem, Mr. Savage?” she asked.

  “Naw, just remembering the day you caught me,” he said, and chuckled.

  “Lewistown,” she said irritably, making him laugh. “We’re headed for Lewistown.”

  “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The center of the state. A hub of cattle ranches. How appropriate, given that rustlers had run rampant there back in the 1800s. It had gotten so bad that some ranchers took matters into their own hands. On July 4, 1884, a couple of suspected rustling ringleaders, “Longhair” Owen and “Rattlesnake Jake” Fallon, were busy shooting up the town when a band of vigilantes gunned them down in the street. Longhair Owen took nine bullets and Rattlesnake Jake eleven.