Allister, J. Rose - Disowned Cowboys [Lone Wolves of Shay Falls] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Allister, Rose J.

  A heavy weight slammed into her back, sending her skittering off balance belly-down onto the ground several feet from the edge of the cliff. She screamed and rolled instinctively, bringing the backpack up in front of her as a shield while she tried to scoot herself upright. Her wild eyes turned on the creature and widened in panic. The wolf stood over her, glowering down with a brilliant yellow stare. Its brownish-gray fur bristled around its neck and back. Slowly, it lowered its snout and began sniffing at her.

  “Go away,” Aimee said, wishing she sounded more terrifying than terrified. “I’ll hit you.”

  The wolf bared its fangs as she hefted her backpack to swing it around in hopes of nailing the animal in the head. When the pack came around to bear, the creature actually clamped down on the padded strap with its sharp teeth, yanked the bulk from her hand, and sent the bag hurling away with one powerful motion of its head. She watched in horror as the brown pack skidded right to the cliff and disappeared over the ledge.

  “No!” she said. “My gear.”

  The wolf stepped forward while she scooted away on her ass and hands, grabbing at handfuls of pine needles and leaves while wishing for a tree branch or rock she could use as a weapon. Jesus, she was going to be attacked. Why hadn’t the thought of wild animals occurred to her when she’d wandered off?

  She and the beast stared at one another for a long moment, Aimee still inching her way back. Then the wolf jerked his head upward, sniffed the air, and took off running like she hadn’t ever been there. When more rustling came from the woods, she was shaking so hard with adrenaline that she couldn’t even get back on her feet. Moments later, a woman burst through the tree line, gun in hand. She was dressed in olive drab from head to toe, save for black hiking boots and a small shock of red hair visible from beneath a duckbill cap. Jogging at full tilt, the woman barely glanced at Aimee before rushing past.

  “Help!” Aimee shouted.

  The woman paused, heaving out sharp breaths as she looked down at her. “Which way did it go?” she snapped.

  “The wolf?” Amy jerked her head to indicate the direction. “Up that way. Wait!” she added when the woman started off again without a word. “I’m lost, and the wolf tossed my survival gear over the cliff.”

  The look that was flashed down on Aimee made her realize just how pathetic that story sounded.

  “Were you bitten?” the redhead asked.

  Aimee hesitated, and the woman’s tone grew sharp. “I said, were you bitten?”

  “No. It just knocked me down and scared me.”

  The woman jogged up the trail.

  “That’s it?” Aimee called after her, finally getting to her feet. “Can’t you help me? Please.”

  The redhead whirled on Aimee. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m busy at the moment.”

  “Can you show me the way back to the waterfall overlook spot?”

  “I don’t have time to play babysitter. You want help, here’s some advice. Don’t hike in the woods alone if you don’t know what the hell you’re doing. Unless you want to be on the dinner menu, that is.”

  “What am I supposed to do, then? Sit here with an apple stuck in my mouth?”

  The woman gave her a derisive glance. “Head for the ranger station six miles east. You won’t beat the storm, but you can make it before nightfall. Which I highly recommend, by the way. It’s a full moon tonight.”

  With that, she took off at a full clip, leaving Aimee alone. “Which way is east?” she shouted after the woman. “My compass went over the damn cliff.” The woman was gone before she’d even finished the tirade, and she sighed. “Great.”

  Aimee carefully stole over to the cliff’s edge to peer over the side. The pack was within eyesight, lying on top of a branch sticking out from the cliff a good fifteen feet down.

  “No way I’m getting that back,” she said, rubbing her arms against the falling temperature and turning back to survey her surroundings. Which way would take her back to the trail? Was she really better off trying to find the ranger station, or should she try and retrace her steps?

  The station was east. She raised her eyes to the skyline. The sun set in the west, meaning if she headed the opposite direction, she’d theoretically find a ranger to help. Trouble was, the sun was nowhere in sight thanks to the black clouds roiling overhead. No way to tell which way was which.

  The wind whistled through the trees now, loud enough to dampen the sound of the falls. The falls! Maybe she could follow the noise back to where David must by now be wondering what the hell had happened to her. If she could get close enough for him to hear her pathetic shouting, he could guide her the rest of the way.

  A shiver shook her when she turned to try and find her tracks to follow back the way she’d come. The windbreaker she’d stuffed in her backpack would come in handy about now. Along with several other items she’d never see again, like her cell phone.

  Aimee looked around, wishing the trees and rocks didn’t all look so much alike. Which way had the wolf chased her? Adrenaline might have made her run a little bit faster, but it sure hadn’t made her thoughts any clearer. She spotted the area where pine needles had been disturbed when she’d shuffled her ass over the ground to escape the wolf. All she had to do was follow the most likely set of tracks away from that spot and she’d be fine. She might not be a wilderness expert, but she could find her way back to a lousy trail. After she finally answered nature’s call.

  * * * *

  Thirty minutes later and several degrees colder, Aimee acquiesced to the fact that she was going the wrong way. Pausing in a clearing, she gazed up at the dark sky and felt the first patter of raindrops land on her face.

  “That’s just perfect,” she said to no one. She sniffled, both from the cold and to ward off the other moisture threatening to run down her face. She was good and lost now, and the afternoon was growing dark with more than just bad weather. Night was falling.

  She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Help!” she cried out for the fiftieth time. “Please, someone. David?”

  The call of a distant hawk was the only reply as she trudged along, every step growing harder as the blisters she figured would show up arrived to rub against the boots she wished she could take off. Her fingers were numb from cold and from being clenched into fists as she folded her arms across her chest. As rain fell from the skies above, she stopped holding back the tears that had been threatening for the past half hour, and both mixed together to stream down her face.

  Her path among the trees grew blurry in the already dim light, and she stumbled on a rock. She managed to break her fall, though her knees and palms throbbed in protest as she picked herself up and wondered whether David would find her. Had he come looking on his own, or called for help? Were rangers out searching the mountain for her now?

  A rumble from her empty stomach was answered by a roll of thunder above. Thunderstorms normally soothed her, but now the sky sounded angry. Hell, she was angry, too. Who was stupid enough to wander off in the woods with little in the way of survival knowledge and have her gear tossed over a ledge by a wolf, of all things?

  It really had been a wolf, and the more she thought about it as she walked along, the stranger the entire encounter seemed. Wolves were night animals, for one thing. And they were supposedly afraid of humans. Ha! This one hadn’t gotten that memo. He was smart enough to snatch her pack and toss it away without a thought. Bizarre.

  Another rumble shook the mountain, vibrating through her chest. Then the sky opened up, buckets of water pouring down to soak through her thin shirt and drip streams of water from her hair and down her face. She shook her head to clear the view and rubbed the rain from her eyes. If she hadn’t turned her head to the left at exactly that moment, she would never have seen it.

  A cave loomed nearby, too dark to see inside, but large enough to offer her shelter from the deluge. She wandered over with caution, squinting as though that could help her peer inside the pitch-black mouth. The opening w
as wider than her car and several inches taller than she was, but she couldn’t see more than a couple of feet in. No telling how far deep it was, or what, if anything, was lurking in its depths.

  She paused just outside, listening through the persistent drone of rainfall for any sign of carbon-based life forms inside. Mama bear rumblings, maybe. Or wolf growls.

  Maybe it would be better not to chance it.

  Another crack of thunder split the sky directly overhead, and she lunged the last couple of feet until she stood just inside the mouth of the cave. This blocked the main downpour, but gusts of wind brought in enough sprays of water to prod her into creeping back farther. She stopped just out of range, wishing she could flatten herself against the wall of the cave rather than stand dead in the middle in full view of creatures with better night vision. Images of genetically mutated spiders and critters with pincers kept her from venturing close to either wall, so she just stood there hoping nothing was preparing to drop down on her from the ceiling—or pounce on her from within.

  Her chest heaved with the exertion of her long trek, and she forced herself to take long, deep inhalations to silence her breaths and hopefully make her presence undetected. After what seemed to be several minutes of quiet, she began to relax. The cave was empty, hopefully not because the current occupant happened to be out for a stroll. She inhaled and was treated to a musty dirt smell. No pungent animal odor. That was reassuring, at least.

  She pulled her soaked shirt away from her skin and squeezed water from it. Her teeth began to chatter from the draft blowing in, but at least she had shelter now. If need be, she could stay overnight and hope to God she could un-lose herself in the morning.

  Aimee crept deeper into the dark cave, wishing her shirt wasn’t sticking so miserably to her skin. And that she had some food, a blanket, and the flashlight from her backpack so she could actually see where the hell she was going. Oh, well. First thing would be to lose the wet shirt. She could wring it out as best as she could, if nothing else.

  She inched forward another few feet and peeled the shirt up over her head. Just as the wet fabric cleared her eyes, she spotted a warm, orange-yellow flicker a few yards off.

  There was light in the cave.

  She blinked at the anomaly and looked closer. More likely the cave had front and back openings, and she had found the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. She turned around and frowned at the mouth of the cave behind her. It was barely outlined in a paler shade of charcoal gray. Why was the light warmer on the other side? Even if the clouds were parting outside—which seemed unlikely considering the persistent sounds of the storm—the sun would be down by now. The cave was lit from the inside.

  When she turned back around, she barely inched toward the golden bloom of light. Several feet ahead, she saw that the cave widened out where the glow grew brighter. The improvement in her vision emboldened her pace, and she was about to enter the wider area when an odd clanking changed her mind.

  She froze, listening to a rattle that certainly wasn’t a wolf or a mama bear. The noise was decidedly metallic.

  The wash of light painting the cave walls now was sufficient for her to see there were no creepy crawlers waiting to skitter along her bare torso, and so she pressed herself against the damp, cold dirt wall in order to risk a peek. She almost lost her nerve when the rattle sounded again, louder this time. Still, she felt driven to look. She had to know what it was that was clinking around in a near-dark cave.

  She sucked in a silent breath and held it while she poked her head slowly around the corner. Her eyes shot wide at the sight on the ground just a dozen or so feet away. She’d thought maybe she would find an animal, or some kind of tree or national forest signpost blowing in a draft brought in by the storm. The last thing she’d imagined to find was a man chained up, naked, and crouching on the cave floor.

  Chapter Two

  Aimee gaped in shock at the man, whose muscled, dirt-smeared back was to her. His neck was secured by a chain that was attached to a wide, metal collar. The other end of the rugged chain was tethered to a giant ring on the cave wall. More chains crisscrossed his torso.

  The second thought in her head was most likely the wiser, but unfortunately it came moments after she’d already acted on the first. She rushed into the wider area of the cave, thinking maybe he’d been taken hostage and needed rescuing. Halfway to his aid, it occurred to her that perhaps he was restrained there for a reason. That theory seemed to have more bearing when he whipped around and fixed her with a wild stare that brought her up short.

  His eyes were pale blue but held a strange golden aura, almost as if they were responsible for the light that had drawn her in. This wasn’t the case, of course—the flickering light came from several brass lanterns scattered along the edges of the perhaps twenty-foot space. Those eyes seemed to pick up the golden hue of the flames until they danced like demons in his gaze. His body gleamed in the damp cave as though coated with sweat. Dirt streaked his skin in several areas, and at first glance she thought that included his face. Then she realized the darker area above his lip was the bare hint of a stubbly mustache. Dark hair slicked back from his narrow face, save for a narrow strand that fell forward across the bridge of his nose. Dirty or not, the guy was drop-dead gorgeous. What she could see of his body as he squatted on the ground was flexed and toned and bulging with muscle, and when he swiveled on the soles of his bare feet to face her, she averted her gaze to avoid staring at the naked organ hanging between his thighs. It wasn’t until his fiery stare blazed a dangerous trail along her body that she remembered her shirt was in her hand. She yanked it up in front of her and took a step back.

  “Jesus, it’s you,” the man said, staring in shock, as if she was the one who had been discovered chained up and naked. “It’s really you.”

  She glanced around. “You must have me mistaken for someone else. I don’t know you.”

  “Oh, yes you do, darlin’. That’s what brought you in here.” There was a sexy hitch in his voice, a velvet twang that grabbed onto her middle and threatened never to let go.

  “The rain brought me in here. And I’m positive that we’ve never met before.” Of that she was certain. She’d definitely have remembered a man with those intense eyes and sculpted features, whether or not he’d been in naked bondage at the time.

  He flexed his arm to push back his hair, rattling the chain as he did so. She noticed a tattoo of a scaly dragon along his upper arm, the head cresting the cap of his shoulder and the tail curving around his bicep like a wicked tribal band. “You’re right, we haven’t formally met. And I have to say you picked one hell of a time for official introductions.”

  “Can’t argue with you there.” She cocked her head, clutching the shirt to her tighter as she regarded his bizarre words. Perhaps there was a reason the man was chained up, after all. He was plumb crazy. “But how can I know you if we’ve never met?”

  “You tell me.”

  “I can’t. And I think I should leave, since I’m obviously interrupting something.”

  She turned away, her eyes falling on a neatly arranged pile of garments against the cave wall several feet away from him. A dark brown Stetson lay on top of a stack of folded clothes and a tan jacket, and beside them stood a pair of worn, yet tall and proud tan cowboy boots. Was he one of the many cowboys working the ranches in Shay Falls?

  When she made a move to leave, he jerked up and forward, straining in her direction with the chain tugging mercilessly at his neck. “No, wait a minute,” he said. “Please.”

  Facing her up on his knees now, she couldn’t help but glance at the one part of him she’d desperately been trying to avoid. Lord, did all men look like that below the waist?

  He inhaled deeply with his eyes closed. Then they snapped open. “You were with another wolf.”

  She snorted. “‘Another’ wolf? No, there was just the one. I make it a point not to hang around with wolves.”

  Something flashed in his gaze.
“The rain nearly washed off the scent, but I can just barely make it out. Who was he? It was Caleb, wasn’t it?”

  She backed away another step. “You know, I didn’t think to shake its paw and trade names while it was chasing me down, tossing my survival gear over a cliff, and nearly eating me.”

  The man’s stare hardened. “Did he hurt you? I felt somethin’ was goin’ on earlier.”

  “No.”

  “Did he lay a hand on you?” He began to pull on his chains.”Jesus, tell me he didn’t bite you.”

  “No!” She eyed him warily. “Why is everyone so worried about me getting bitten around here? And—wait. Lay a hand?”

  That did it. Why was she talking to a clearly disturbed man who was chained up in a cave? She would be better off outside in the storm.

  “I’m not crazy,” he said. “You gotta be careful in these parts. Things can get a little wild up here.”

  “So I found out. If getting lost and chased by a wolf wasn’t bad enough, there’s some chick with a gun running around out there. She wouldn’t even point me to the ranger station.”

  His eyes flared wide. “What woman? Did she have red hair?”

  “How do you know that?”

  “She didn’t shoot him, did she?”

  “Shoot who?”

  “Caleb.”

  “That wolf, you mean? No, it got away.”

  The man sighed in relief.

  “The woman chasing him wasn’t very happy with me for that, either. Like how dare I have some petty need for help because I’m lost in the woods.”

  “Thank God for that.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Thank God that I’m lost in the woods?”