Reclaiming Willa

by Delta James

  Once she’d hung two of the solar-battery-powered lanterns, she constructed her cookfire with a grill and tripod from which she could hang her Dutch oven for cooking. The stream that ran through the canyon as well as the small lake into which the waterfall ended were both stocked with trout she could catch for her dinner. In addition, she’d brought other food supplies and hunting gear. Willa was quite comfortable in the wilderness and looking forward to a reprieve from her everyday life for a week or so before moving the mustangs to safety.

  Making a quick check of her camp and ensuring the gate barring the entrance to the canyon was secure, Willa entered her tent, stripped out of her clothes, tucked them away neatly then slipped into a long T-shirt and crawled into bed. Happy with all she’d accomplished, she laid her head on her pillow and was asleep in moments.

  Chapter 5

  The Special Operations Group for the US Marshals arrived and met John at his office. The local authorities were trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the potential embarrassment of Eastwick’s slipping away.

  “I’m afraid it’s just us, Mac,” said John wearily.

  Mac could tell from the disappointed tone of John’s voice that his friend was taking this personally. “In the end, it usually is. But we’ll find him. What do you know?”

  “Not much. I hope your guys can ride because the best way to go after this guy will be on horseback.”

  “Won’t ATVs work?” asked Thom Lyndon, one of Mac’s men.

  “They might cover the terrain,” replied John, “but not as easily or as quietly as a horse, and they are bound by how much gasoline we want to carry.”

  Mac nodded. “I think we split into two groups. John, you and my technical guys—my computer techies—set up shop here in your office and keep on top of everything electronic. The rest of us will split up and see if we can’t figure out where he is. I’ve arranged for a helicopter to take me up tonight.”

  “What do you plan to do in the dark?”

  “I’ll use infrared tracking and night vision goggles to see if we can’t spot something or someone set up and camping.”

  John shook his head. “I don’t know, Mac. This is a popular tourist area. Lots of folks out camping.”

  “We’ll need to eliminate them one by one. I don’t think he’ll be part of a group, but if you’ll give me my sandwich, I’ll head out. Thom, work with John to locate and arrange for us to use some horses. I’ll head out and see if I can’t find us a place to start.”

  “Mac, nobody will have better horses than Willa. I’ll check to see if she’s willing to supply us with some.”

  Mac paused for only a moment before responding. “Sounds good. Everybody needs a good night’s rest. We’ve got us a fugitive to catch.”

  Mac left the office in a pensive mood. His team was pumped up and ready to go. John was right. Willa would have the best horses. But, after five long years, it looked as though the opportunity to reclaim the woman he loved had finally presented itself to him

  The helicopter rose and flew a grid search pattern. Mac had obtained a list of backcountry permits, which would list where people had intended to camp. By going down the list, he’d be able to check them off as the least likely places to find Eastwick. The only heat reading that showed as a campfire was in an oddly placed little canyon. Mac made note of its location on his map and determined that would be their first targeted destination in the morning. He didn’t fly down for a closer inspection as he didn’t want to alert whoever was there that he/she had been spotted.

  At the motel, he was glad to see his men had settled in for the night. He opened the door to his room to find a small cooler sitting on the bed with a note taped to the top:

  Mac,

  Thanks again for coming. Inside are two sandwiches, some potato salad, and a couple of beers.

  Mandy talked with Willa. She’s given us the go-ahead to borrow some horses. Good steady mounts that know the terrain. Don’t know the cost, but Willa’s always been more than fair. She won’t be needing the horses for her business for at least two weeks.

  I’ll come by at 7 and pick up you and your guys who are going out with you. We can use my truck and stock trailer if we need them.

  Thanks,

  John

  Mac opened the cooler, took out half of one of the sandwiches, and started to eat it as he headed into the bathroom. He removed his clothes as he finished what he had with him and turned on the shower. He envied John his Mandy. She was a devoted wife and great life partner. They had an incredibly happy marriage with well-defined roles. Mac longed for that kind of relationship and marriage—it just made sense to him.

  He’d once thought to make that dream come true with Willa. Being an alpha male of the first order, he knew that for a marriage to work for him, his wife would need to be strong enough to hold her own but willing to give up the dominant role in their relationship. Mac had tried suppressing that side of his personality before, and it had always left him feeling stifled and as though he wasn’t being truthful to himself or to the woman in his life.

  With Willa, he’d allowed himself to dare to dream of a long and happy marriage. The ring he’d purchased for her sat in the safe deposit vault of his bank in Louisiana. He’d been waiting for the right moment to ask her to marry him. Mac often wondered if he had proposed, would she have walked away from him when the opportunity was offered to head up the SOG?

  Mac stood under the hot shower and let it beat down on his tight, tired muscles. Thinking about Willa combined with the length of time since he’d last been intimate with a woman made his cock begin to harden. Looking down, he smiled. Even now, picturing her was enough to make him incredibly aroused. He remembered everything about being with her—how she moved, what she sounded like as he thrust within her, how she felt when she climaxed and her pussy had tightened around him. He thought about switching over to cold water to quell those feelings but decided it was probably best to give himself the relief he needed.

  Mac closed his eyes and imagined what it would be like if he was still with Willa. She’d often joined him in the shower and taken care of that for him…or rather with him. He’d always preferred sexual encounters where both parties got what they needed, and he enjoyed watching and feeling a woman experience multiple orgasms from his skilled hands and cock.

  It quickly became fully erect, and Mac leaned heavily against the shower wall, bracing himself with one hand while he wrapped the other around his stiff cock. He slowly stroked himself as he imagined having Willa in his life again. He thought about how her hand would feel when she fondled him—kissing and rubbing herself against him. Mac fisted his cock faster. He’d never been one to rush being with a woman. Willa had been no different. He could recall numerous times they had stayed in bed on a Sunday with finger food and water on the nightstands and spent the day doing nothing more than reveling in each other. But when he was having to pleasure himself, he tended to take less time and be a lot rougher.

  He squeezed and stroked his cock as he imagined Willa kneeling in the shower and taking it in her mouth. He could almost feel her lips gliding along his length as he thrust slowly in and out with the head of his cock reaching the back of her throat. Mac groaned with the imagery his thoughts and hand were creating. His hips moved in the same rhythm he was using on his cock. Like most men, he enjoyed having a woman go down on him, but Mac had rarely given control to Willa. He would often let her initiate things, but most often ended up holding her head in place while he fucked her mouth.

  In the past, when Willa had gone down on him and he could feel his release close, he’d often withdrawn and positioned her on her hands and knees in front of him so he could plunge his cock deep in her pussy and finish there. He closed his eyes and summoned forth the image of having Willa in that position now as he pulled hard on his cock and felt his cum rushing up from his balls and down his length before spilling onto the shower floor.

  As soon as he was done masturbatin
g, he finished his shower and turned off the water then exited the steamy bathroom of the hotel.

  He looked in the mirror over the dresser. Mac’s life had not been easy. It had been good, but his body showed the signs of wear and tear from all of his choices. A bullet scar here, a healed-over knife wound there. He chuckled; he certainly didn’t have the look of the younger man he’d been before entering the Army, recruited as a ranger and, upon discharge, snatched up by the US Marshals. But the deepest wound had never completely healed over. He wondered if it ever would.

  He pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and smiled. Willa had most always worn the tops to his pajamas while he wore the bottoms. Better yet was when she opted to sleep in nothing at all. He lifted the cooler off the bed, grabbed the other half of the sandwich and a beer, and plopped down in the middle of the mattress. He turned on the television to watch something mindless that was interrupted by breaking news. The media had discovered Simon Eastwick was a fugitive.

  “Shit,” he muttered. “There goes easy.” From now on, it would be useless tips and racing with the press to find the guy. He texted John and the men who would be heading out to change the meeting time from seven to six. Maybe they could get a jump on the feeding frenzy.

  ***

  Simon Eastwick was angry. He’d planned his wife’s murder perfectly. She hadn’t grown old gracefully, and, as she began the change of life, she’d lost any and all desire for sex and expected him to do without. There should have been no hitch at all in his scheme to end his marriage without a huge financial impact. By now, he should be snuggled up to some international beauty in Dubai. But some mangy coyote had found his wife’s rotting corpse and unraveled Eastwick’s plan. He had yet to go to trial, but Eastwick was no fool. He knew his chances were slim to none that he wouldn’t be convicted. He had no interest in the lethal injection that could be imposed if he was found guilty.

  He laughed to himself. They thought they had him trapped. All his bank accounts and other assets had been frozen. His passport had been seized, and his house was under surveillance. The authorities hadn’t known he had a safe hidden in the kitchen floor that contained several million dollars in cash and bearer bonds. He’d also planned ahead years ago and had a phony passport created. It, too, resided in the safe.

  His stupid wife had played with well-bred, high-dollar warmbloods. He’d ensured one of them was trained to ride under a Western saddle and one trained to carry a pack. He’d told her that way they could ride in some of the beautiful countryside together. He’d simply saddled the horse that could be ridden Western and packed gear—and funds—for a ride across the border into Mexico. From there, a private, uncharted flight to Dubai would take him to his new life with some young beauty who’d ride his cock the way his wife hadn’t in years.

  He felt his cock stiffen and reined in his libido. If he had enough time between when he arrived in the small Mexican border town and when his plane would be ready to whisk him off to a new life, he’d find a high-end whore to vent his frustrated lust on.

  Part of his plan had worked: the horses had been well trained and were doing their job. The part he hadn’t counted on was that while they looked to be in beautiful shape—glistening coats and firm, muscular bodies—they weren’t in aerobic shape. They tired easily, were afraid of their own shadows, and, in general, were a pain in the ass. But he had no choice. These two were his only way out. He followed the small river that lazed along the foothills. He headed south and tried to keep close to the mountains especially during the day. At night, he did without the comfort of a fire—eating protein bars and drinking tepid water. He dressed in layers and was warm enough, but not comfortable. It wouldn’t be for long, he told himself. Soon, he’d be in Dubai. Soon, his new life would start.

  Chapter 6

  John was waiting with his SUV when Mac and his men exited their motel rooms and hopped in. As he opened the door, Mac could smell bacon, coffee, and other heavenly breakfast aromas.

  “Mandy thought you boys would be hungry, and if we want to try and stay in front of this story and ahead of the press, we’ll need eat on the go. There’s coffee in the thermos. Some creamer and sugar in one of the Tupperware bowls. The other one has homemade salsa. The cooler there actually has a hot pad in the bottom, and Mandy made breakfast burritos with extra bacon.”

  The men tucked in, and, for the next few minutes, all that could be heard was happy munching and words of thanks for Mandy’s thoughtfulness and excellent cooking skills.

  “So, where are the horses?” asked Mac.

  “Mandy texted Gus last night. He’ll meet us at Tortilla Flats with the horses saddled and ready to go. There are scabbards and rifles in the back of the SUV, and the horses will already have water and provisions. If you’re going to stay out overnight, I can arrange to have a camp set up for you. I asked Mandy about Willa’s availability, but she’s gone off on her own little adventure.”

  “Still stealing mustangs?” Mac asked, trying to keep the trace of bitterness from his tone.

  “You know Mandy and Willa—they have a don’t ask/don’t tell policy, seeing as I’m a US Marshal.”

  “You know, at some point, she’s going to cost those bastards enough money they decide to do something about her meddling.”

  “Willa’s careful, Mac. You remember how she likes to push boundaries and rules.”

  “I remember. Sometimes, I wonder if I’d taken her in hand early on, if we might still be together.”

  “I know,” said John sympathetically. “If it comes to it, we might have to enlist her help in tracking Eastwick.”

  Mac nodded. “We may have need of her services. If so, think she’d agree?” Mac was always trying to plan for three moves ahead.

  “Normally, no. But if Mandy asks her? Most likely. If you’re thinking that’s a likely scenario, let me know. She’ll generally check in with Mandy every few days when she’s out and about.”

  “Tell Mandy I’d like to talk to her. If we don’t have him in the next day or two, we’re probably going to need Willa’s help. And, John? Thanks for the sandwiches and beer. Much appreciated.”

  They proceeded to the Tortilla Flats stagecoach stop and were greeted by Gus whose look of disdain told him he had yet to forgive Mac for walking away from Willa. Mac smiled at the fine group of horses he’d saddled and had ready to go. More horses than they needed.

  “John,” Gus said, extending his hand.

  “Gus. Good to see you. You remember Mac.”

  Mac and Gus shook hands. “I think there was a miscommunication. We don’t need that many horses,” said Mac.

  Gus smiled grimly. “That’s what Mandy said, but I brought some with differing degrees of ease to ride. That pinto on the end, you could strap a newborn baby to the saddle, and the kid would be fine. Roscoe here, the big buckskin, can be a bit more to handle, but if you need speed and endurance, he’s the one you want to be astride. He has a warp-speed gear if you need it.”

  Mac smiled. “I’ve always wanted to play Marshal Dillon. Guess I’ll be riding Roscoe. You guys get ready to ride and check in here with Gus. He’ll assign you your mounts. Thanks for your assistance. If you talk to your boss, tell her I’d like to speak with her.” He handed him a business card. “She can reach me on my cell. And thanks for your assistance, especially so early in the morning.”

  Gus laughed. “Son, six in the morning ain’t early for an old cowboy like me.” He turned to John. “Mandy wouldn’t have sent one of those breakfast burritos she makes for me, would she?”

  John smiled. “Now, Gus…has Mandy ever not looked after a friend?”

  “She’s a good girl, your Mandy.”

  “Most of the time,” laughed John.

  Mac and John exchanged knowing smiles.

  Mac walked over to the big buckskin gelding and untied him. He looped the lead rope around the horse’s neck and removed his halter before bridling him. He was impressed with how easily the big horse took the bit. He stowed the hal
ter and lead in one of the saddlebags and led him to the rear of the SUV. Opening it up, he grabbed a rifle and a scabbard, attaching the scabbard to the saddle and putting the rifle securely into it. He moved Roscoe away from the vehicle and mounted.

  He turned and watched Gus help the rest of his men. Most of them were decent riders, but Mac had grown up a rancher’s son in Oklahoma. He couldn’t remember a time before he joined the rangers when he hadn’t ridden every day. It was one of the few things he missed about not having chosen a more settled life. Even within the US Marshal’s Service, he could have stayed in the field supervisor position as had John. Being the head of the SOG meant he was never truly off the clock.

  Mac retrieved his GPS unit and punched in the coordinates for the lone, unaccounted-for campsite. He settled the unit in front of him right behind the saddle horn and nudged Roscoe to move out. The other horses fell into line behind him.

  “I just spoke to Thom,” called John. “We’ve had a couple of tips about people seeing Eastwick. Thom has them plotted.”

  Mac reined in Roscoe. “Are they in the same area?”

  “No, opposite ends of the wilderness area.”

  “Have him send them to Baez and Taylor. You boys split up into teams of two, and I’ll take this outlier. Check in if you see anything or think the tip may be paying off or in two hours, whichever comes first.”

  “Mac, you want me to take a horse and come with you?”

  “Nah, you head to your office and head up the tech team there. I don’t have a lot of hope for this one, but I feel we have to at least cross it off the list.” Mac turned to his team. “All right, gentlemen, we have a fugitive to catch. Let’s go catch this son of a bitch.”

  John watched as they headed out. Simon Eastwick might have money and power, but he’d never been up against the US Marshals. The service was well known for being relentless about running down federal fugitives. John felt confident Eastwick would soon be apprehended. He called Mandy and relayed Mac’s message about wanting to speak to Willa and his thanks for the sandwiches.