Reclaiming Willa

by Delta James

“I want to go home.”

  “You’ve made that abundantly clear,” he said. “And I think I’ve been as clear as you. You aren’t going to be going home alone any time soon.”

  “So, who will be with me in Chandler?”

  “Just me. As you’ll recall, I was winged as well, so, at least for the next few days, I’m on desk duty and will coordinate everything from there while I babysit you.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  Mac laughed. “No, but you do need a keeper. And what you really need is to have your bottom spanked for that stunt you pulled when they took me into the hospital. If you’re not really careful from here on out, I may decide, active fugitive retrieval or not, I’m going to be the man who gives it to you.”

  “What makes you think I’d allow that?”

  “What makes you think I’d care what you allow? My experience has been the truly magnificent women, the ones worth making a life with, are proud, strong, feisty, and do not allow any Tom, Dick, or Harry to run herd over them. But when the right man comes along and they realize they aren’t going to be the dominant partner in the relationship, they settle down and live happily ever after.”

  Willa snorted. “And I suppose you think you’re the right man?” she asked scornfully.

  “I do indeed. For the record, you not allowing it doesn’t mean you don’t want and need me to do it. I made the mistake of letting you get away once. I don’t intend to make the same mistake again.”

  “You are delusional,” she said, turning her back on him but wondering if it wasn’t true.

  Chapter 10

  The sun was beginning to set on the horizon when they pulled up to the small farm on the outskirts of Chandler. Willa could see hay in the loafing shed to the right of the house. There were several what appeared to be well-bred quarter horses meandering around the pasture that came up close to the yard.

  Mac parked, and when he came around to open her door, Willa was already standing outside the truck, surveying the barnyard.

  “You keep horses at a safe house?”

  “Chickens and goats as well. A farm without animals is going to attract the wrong kind of attention. One of our employees who doesn’t live far from here checks them daily and makes sure they are well cared for, rearranges curtains, lights, etc. Anybody passing by even on a regular basis would assume it’s a small hobby farm.”

  “Don’t you worry about predators?”

  “Two-legged or four-legged?” Mac joked.

  “I figure the two-legged inhabitants of this farm can take care of themselves. But there are big cats in this area, and the coyotes would look at those chickens and goats and think it’s an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

  “That’s where Goose comes in.”

  “I know geese are good to use as an alarm system, but they aren’t going to win in a confrontation between a predator and its prey.”

  “Not geese, Goose,” he corrected. “Big bull mastiff we leave with the stock. Great dog if he knows you. Sweetest thing on the planet. But you don’t want to be messing with his stock if he doesn’t. He does not differentiate between two-legged or four-legged varmints. We routinely have to remove coyote carcasses, and he’s taken down two big cats that we know of. Funny thing is, he brings the dead bodies up and puts them by the trash cans.”

  “You really have it all thought out.”

  “Why, yes, Willa, we do. We’re rather good at our job and figure a safe house that doesn’t keep people safe is of little value.”

  “I still want to go home.”

  “And I still don’t care.”

  “I’m calling a lawyer in the morning, and you’re going to have to release me.”

  “As I said, you’re welcome to call a lawyer over the secure line, but you’ll lose in court. You are by every definition a material witness and one who has already had a viable threat made to her safety. No judge is terminating the warrant. But you go right ahead and waste time and money if that’ll make you feel better.”

  “I’d feel better in my own bed.”

  Mac shook his head. “Give it a rest, Willa. You’re not going anywhere until we have Eastwick tried, convicted, and locked up for good.”

  “Prick,” she jeered as she pushed past him, headed to the barn.

  She hadn’t gone too far when Mac seized her upper arm and turned her toward the house giving her backside a hard swat to propel her in the direction he wanted.

  “House, Willa.”

  She whirled around. “You son of a bitch! You can’t hit me.”

  “I didn’t hit you, I swatted your ass, and I’ll do more than swat it over your jeans if you don’t knock it off. Get in the house.”

  “No!”

  “Now!”

  She and Mac stared each other down. It was a question of who would blink first. She knew neither was willing to give an inch.

  “Don’t try me, Willa. I want you in the house where it’s safe. Now, move it.”

  “Fuck you,” she said, exasperated, not only with Mac, but with herself for becoming more aroused by the minute.

  The last thing she needed in her life was this combination cowboy/lawman who thought he could tell her what to do. But she had to admit he still took her breath away. He was an attractive bastard, and his primal masculine dominance seemed to roll off of him in waves. There was something she found wildly attractive about Ethan McDaniel…and not just physically.

  “Are you going to walk, or am I going to have you sling you over my shoulder and carry you?”

  “You’re not slinging anyone anywhere with that shoulder.”

  She only had a fraction of a second before he proved her wrong, saying, “Wanna bet?”

  Willa was shocked. Never in her life had anyone manhandled her, not even Mac when they were together. Now, in the space of a few minutes, he had swatted her ass and was carrying her up to the house. Before the outrageousness of his action truly registered, they were on the front porch where he set her down, trapping her body with his against the door.

  Mac punched in a code and pressed his thumb against the sensor directly above the keypad.

  “I’m not thinking a lot of ranchers have such a fancy, schmancy lock,” she remarked sarcastically.

  “Probably not,” he said as he opened the door. “But we figure if you’re close enough to see the lock, you’re either one of us or one of those we’re trying to keep out.”

  When she didn’t immediately step inside, he turned her to face the interior, and again his hand made a hard connection with her rear end, causing her to yelp as she stumbled forward. Mac followed her inside, closing the door behind them and locking it.

  “You and I need to get a few things straight. When I tell you to do something or stay somewhere, you do it. You don’t argue with me, you don’t call me names, and you don’t not do what I told you to do.”

  Willa whirled around. “If you believe I’m going to do anything I’m not inclined to do or be anything other than a major pain in the ass, you are sadly mistaken.”

  Mac took a deep breath. “I’m warning you Willa. I’m not sure what you think you’re going to achieve. But all this acting out with me is going to accomplish is you ending up with a well-spanked backside. You are in federal custody, and you’re going to behave so I can keep you safe. Like it or not, Willa, I’m in charge. I make the rules and you obey them. If you don’t, you’ll find yourself facedown over my knee until I see a change in your attitude and you apologize for whatever you did to earn yourself a spanking.”

  “Do you even hear yourself? I don’t give a rat’s ass if I’m in federal custody. I’m still a citizen, and my taxes pay your salary.”

  He laughed and pulled her to him. “You’re still the same wildcat you always were, aren’t you? That’s okay. It was always so much more satisfying when I made you purr.”

  He leaned down and lightly kissed her. Willa was mortified when her lips parted seemingly of their own accord. She felt him press his mouth more firml
y to hers as she was sure he felt her acquiescence. His response was to initiate a far more commanding and passionate kiss. Worse, she was kissing him with the same intensity. She welcomed the feel of his tongue as it slipped past her teeth and began to coax and dance with hers.

  He groaned as he wrapped his arms around her, and one of his hands dropped to her derriere and pulled her into closer contact. She stood on tiptoe and wound her arms around his neck, rubbing her stiffened nipples against his chest. It had been a while since she’d been with anyone, and Ethan McDaniel wasn’t just anyone.

  Reluctantly, she disengaged from the kiss. She brought her hands down and laid them on his chest but didn’t push him away.

  “It’s all right, Willa,” he said softly.

  “No, it’s not. I don’t throw myself at men…even ones from my past.”

  “You didn’t throw yourself, but you didn’t run away. That’s the first smart thing you’ve done since you ditched me at the hospital. And for the record, you pull a stunt like that again, and you’ll have trouble riding a horse for a few days.”

  This time she did push away from him. “You’re such a jackass.”

  He laughed. “Maybe, but I’m a jackass you find attractive.”

  “I did once. I don’t now.”

  He laughed harder. “The hell you don’t. First, you return my kiss like I was the first drink of water you’ve had in a long, long time, and then you rub against me like an alley cat in heat. But it’s fine. You were standing close enough to know I feel the same way about you.” He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “Now, why don’t I rustle up some dinner.”

  “Why don’t you go to hell? I’m not hungry.”

  That would have been a more effective parting shot if her stomach hadn’t grumbled at that precise moment. She turned and took a good look at the open-concept living space.

  “This is nice.”

  “You sound surprised. What were you expecting?”

  “I don’t know, something dilapidated, kind of seedy, but this actually looks comfortable and kind of chic.”

  Mac smiled as he walked past her. “Most of the time, protected witnesses are good people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. They have their lives interrupted and sometimes completely torn apart because they were trying to do the right thing, or, like you, some bad guy decided they needed to die so he could go on being a bad guy.”

  Willa arched her eyebrow. “Bad guy? Is that a technical term used by the US Marshals?”

  “Only in limited circles,” he said, grinning. “Let me go see what they stocked the kitchen with.”

  “I could eat, but as I recall, cooking wasn’t your strong suit. You know I’m a terrible snob about food.”

  His eyes smiled. “That’s not the only thing I remember.”

  “Stop it, Mac. We’re not going there.”

  “Sure we are. I’ll give you some time to think it over. But we aren’t finished, Willa—not by a long shot.”

  “What do you want?” she said, the confused feelings he was evoking registering clearly.

  “You,” he said simply. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he continued, “John says your business has grown since we split up. In these economic times, that’s impressive. You must be able to give them a unique experience each time.”

  Grateful for his shift to neutral ground, she answered, “Funny, most people don’t want unique experiences. They want a unique setting, so I take them through different parts of the canyons or mountains, but they like familiar. By offering them the same guide, the same kind of food, and mostly the same horses, they can relax and enjoy each area I show them. For me, it’s fun because I see couples before they’re married then as newlyweds and then as the kids come along.”

  Mac nodded.

  “Gus designed a kind of car seat or stroller thingy for our most reliable packhorse. We make sure the load is balanced, secure, and designed for the safety of the infant. I always take one of my people along just to lead that packhorse, but it’s fun.”

  Mac smiled. “You still love what you do.”

  She cocked her head and looked at him. “Don’t you?”

  “Hmm. Not sure love is the word I’d use. I’m good at it, and it’s a job that needs doing. It gives me a lot of satisfaction, but I don’t think I’ve ever waxed poetic about what I do. And I paid a high price to get where I am today.”

  “I don’t think anyone has ever accused me of waxing poetic,” she said, disengaging from the conversation.

  “Don’t take it the wrong way. I think it’s great. When you talk about your clients, your whole body relaxes, and it’s obviously something you enjoy. But don’t you worry about risking everything for the mustangs?”

  “You never did understand them. I love them because they’re wild and free. Because they represent the very best of our country. They were all brought here by someone else. The horses we see today aren’t native to North America. There was a similar species, but it went extinct with the dinosaurs. And like every other immigrant group, the mustangs made this place their home and thrived until some asshat decided he could make a profit by exploiting them.”

  “So, you steal them and then what?”

  “I don’t steal anything, Mac. I liberate them and drive them to protected land or, if it’s a small herd, there are ranchers in the area who will care for them and let them graze their lands.”

  “Steal versus liberate? I think that depends on which side of the horse you’re standing on.”

  “Not really. Until they are sold, the horses have no intrinsic value. Therefore, I can’t be prosecuted for stealing something that has no value. And why I’m debating semantics with a guy who left me five years ago and has now kidnapped me, I’ll never know.”

  “Ah, so we’re back to that. As I recall, you left and told me not to be there when you returned. And, technically, I didn’t kidnap you. I took you into federal custody so you would be protected.”

  “I can protect myself.”

  “Sure, you can. I saw that while you were bleeding all over the helicopter. Give it a break, Willa, and settle down. You’re not going anywhere until Eastwick has been apprehended. And, at some point, we’re going to have to have a long talk about you and your mustangs.”

  We’ll see about that. She had no intention of playing house with Mac again. She’d make sure he had a full belly, and, once he was sound asleep, she’d take his keys, borrow his truck, and return to her life—a life that didn’t include Marshal Ethan McDaniel. If he hadn’t seen the canyon behind the waterfall, she could have gone there. It was one of her favorite places, but there were several hidden canyons up in the Superstitions that were almost as nice, and they were in the opposite direction from where Eastwick was headed. No sense in not taking certain precautions to stay safe. After all, the man had murdered his wife.

  ***

  Mac watched as she pushed past him and made a thorough inventory of the kitchen. He really did like the way she moved. It was purposeful yet graceful. There was no wasted movement, and yet it was decidedly feminine.

  He hadn’t planned on kissing her, but given her response, he was glad he had. What had started as a light brushing of his lips against hers had quickly developed into a far deeper level of intensity and intimacy. Mac had especially liked the way she responded when he’d pulled her closer and she’d rubbed against him. Wildcat was probably an accurate way to think of Willa Reynolds. She was strong, powerful, sensual, and had attitude to spare. He was quickly recognizing that he had missed her even more than he thought.

  He had to suppress a grin and his body’s physical response when he thought about how he intended to bring that attitude under control. He was playing with fire, but, like a moth to a flame, he would be hard-pressed to resist her allure. There was a strict no-fraternization policy where witnesses were concerned and for good reason. But he figured they had been a committed couple before. Besides, Willa made him dismiss all of those reasons as well as the th
ought that if anything were to go wrong and it was discovered they’d entered a relationship, he could lose his job. As Mac glanced at her bending over to get a frying pan from the drawer at the bottom of the stove, he decided she was worth it. He meant to bring Willa under his protection on a permanent basis whether she liked it or not.

  “Do you mind breakfast for dinner? There’s plenty of good stuff here for either, but breakfast is quicker.”

  “You’re the chef. If you make it, I’ll eat it. I can’t recall that you ever fed me anything I didn’t like…especially your honey.”

  Willa blushed. “Too bad. That’s not on the menu.”

  Mac watched as she began to chop, slice, sauté, and even microwave. Before long, she was layering a heavy cast iron with vegetables, bacon, onions, and potatoes before pouring an egg mixture over the top and putting it in the oven. Next, she quickly set about making biscuits and then placed them in the oven with the skillet.

  “Okay, we have about twenty minutes. Should I pick out one of the bedrooms upstairs?”

  “No. There’s a master suite here on the ground floor that’s totally secure. The windows are bulletproof; the doors are all armored and have dead bolts. You’ll sleep in there.”

  “Don’t you think that’s a bit over-the-top for dealing with anything Eastwick might be planning?”

  He shook his head. “Are you forgetting you were shot earlier today? And keep in mind we have yet to find the shooter, although we’re closing in on him.”

  “I don’t want to be here.”

  “So you keep telling me. But I can keep you safer here than anywhere else, so we’re staying.”

  He watched her take a deep breath and instinctively knew what she was about to say. “About what happened earlier.”

  He crossed the distance between them, both physically and emotionally, and pulled her into his arms. She made a token attempt at resisting but then gave in to what she really wanted.

  “You mean when we kissed and you made it abundantly clear neither of us wants to be sleeping alone tonight?”

  Before she could respond, he lowered his head and once more took possession of her mouth. God, she tasted sweet. Everything about Willa called to him. Her fiery personality, her voluptuous body, and the way it responded to his with very little effort on his part. He’d never felt such a strong pull toward a woman. Mac was smart enough to know that you never truly tamed a woman like Willa. He figured she’d always need a fair amount of consistent dominance to behave—a level of dominance he was more than happy and able to supply.