“A couple of days ago I learned that you live on Three Rivers Ranch.”
From the corner of his eye, he watched her head turn in his direction.
“Who told you that?” she asked.
“Zane Crawford. He works the east side of the park. We’ve been friends for a few years.”
“Oh. I’m slightly acquainted with Zane. But I’m surprised that you are. Other than Mort, I didn’t think you knew any of the other rangers here at Lake Pleasant.” She turned her gaze away from him before she continued. “Most everyone knows I live with my family on Three Rivers. I figured Mort had already mentioned it to you. Or one of the other guys would tell you.”
For some reason, Sawyer felt deflated. “No one said anything until Zane brought it up. It’s pretty obvious you avoided telling me. Why?”
Clearly annoyed, she rose from the weather-worn piece of tree trunk she’d been using as a seat. “Because it has nothing to do with you and me working together,” she said stiffly.
“You didn’t want me to know you were one of the Hollisters,” he stated bluntly. “Why? Are you ashamed of your wealth?”
She frowned at him. “No. It’s just not something I want to flaunt. For many reasons. And since you feel free to ask all these questions, I’ll ask one of my own. What difference does it make to you whether I’m one of those Hollisters?”
All the difference in the world, Sawyer thought. To a man like him, it made her unreachable, or mighty close to it. Still, he wasn’t a man to back down from a challenge. He couldn’t allow who she was, or what she was, to change his plans.
“None, I suppose. It would have been nice, though, if you’d trusted me enough to tell me yourself.”
She sighed and Sawyer thought he heard a note of regret in the simple reaction.
“I probably should’ve told you earlier. And if you’re thinking I did it for snobbish reasons, you’re wrong. I held back because I thought...well, it might make you uncomfortable.” She slanted him a rueful look. “And some people believe the amount of money a person has is what makes them who they are. I guess I wanted you to see me as a person rather than a dollar sign. At least for a few days.”
Making love to a woman was second nature to Sawyer. However, comforting one was a different matter. Yet the urge to hold her close and assure her that her money or social status meant nothing to him was running through him, confusing all his selfish feelings.
Ignoring the war inside his head, he stood and crossed the few short steps between them. “Viv, do I look like a man who cares about money?”
Her hazel-green gaze swept his face, then slid up and down the length of him. “Not from what I can see on the outside.”
He laughed at the suspicious sound in her voice. “My grandmother and I live in the same little house I was brought into as a baby. The furniture is the same that we had when I was a teenager. She has a handful of dresses in the closet and keeps laying hens because she doesn’t like store-bought eggs. I drive the same pickup truck I purchased when I first became a ranger and the only vacation I’ve ever had was when the agency sent me to Grand Canyon Park to observe the correct way rangers are supposed to manage crowds. But I wouldn’t change a thing about my life. Money is nice. Being content is better.”
A sheepish expression stole over her face. “I never thought—” She paused and shook her head. “I haven’t been thinking you’re an opportunist, Sawyer. I only want you to treat me like any other woman.”
“That’s impossible, Viv.”
Her lips parted and in that moment Sawyer desperately wished the two of them had been in a more secluded spot. Rules be damned, he would’ve kissed her.
“Why?”
The one word was spoken huskily and Sawyer felt something raw and urgent burn the pit of his stomach.
“Because—” He reached up and caught a strand of hair that had whipped across her cheek. As he carefully tucked it back behind her ear, he watched her eyes darken with some emotion he wanted to recognize as desire. “You’re not like any other woman I’ve known, Viv. Not because you’re from a wealthy family. But because...you’re different. In the best kind of ways.”
A vulnerable quiver touched her bottom lip and then she pressed them together as though she was embarrassed to admit that his closeness was affecting her in any way.
“You’re different, too,” she finally murmured, her voice laced with wry humor. “You’re the biggest flirt I’ve ever met.”
“I’m not flirting now. I’m stating a fact.”
Clearing her throat, she stepped away from him, and it was all Sawyer could do to keep from reaching out and snatching a hold on her arm.
“Okay, I’ll take that as a compliment. And we—uh, better get back to the vehicle and radio in. We might be needed.”
Seeing the private moment between them was over, he picked up his thermos and followed her across the rocky slope of ground to the waiting SUV.
* * *
A few minutes later, as Vivian drove them away from the cove where they’d taken their afternoon break, Sawyer promptly picked up the radio and informed the dispatcher of their whereabouts. While he dealt with relaying the information, Vivian’s thoughts were still back on the rocky shelf.
Her thoughts were consumed with every word Sawyer had said to her, every look he’d given her and the way his fingers had felt against her cheek.
His nearness had left her trembling and she hoped that ESP, or whatever he possessed, had been turned off when he’d been standing ever so close to her. Otherwise, he might have seen in her eyes just how much she wanted to wrap her arms around him and lay her cheek upon his broad chest.
Oh, Lord, she didn’t know what was happening to her. She only knew she had to put a brake on these runaway feelings. Otherwise, these next six months with Sawyer were going to be fraught with drama.
“We still need to check the Javelina Trail before we leave this loop. Mort tells me there’s been some vandalizing reported in that area.”
Trying to shake away the troubling thoughts in her head, she glanced over at him. “That’s right. Trash and beer cans left behind. Cacti hacked and rocks piled. Louis and I caught two guys building a fire on the ground about two feet away from a mesquite tree. We ticketed them and let me tell you, they were very unhappy about it.”
“They’re lucky you didn’t have them arrested.”
She shrugged. “The pair didn’t have any outstanding warrants and as far as we knew that was their first offense in the park, so we decided a hefty fine would teach them a lesson.”
“They could’ve caused a major wildfire,” he said with a shake of his head. “It’s crazy what some people will do. Especially when they think no one is looking.”
Vivian said, “Their excuse was that they were planning to kill a rattlesnake and cook it over the fire for supper.”
He laughed in disbelief. “Apparently these guys didn’t understand that killing any sort of animal or reptile in the park is a major offense.”
Vivian’s smile had nothing to do with humor. “They understand it now.”
Five minutes later, they reached the start of Javelina Trail, a two-mile trek on foot that eventually led to a pretty little valley with rock spirals and a sea of Joshua trees. In spite of making the hike hundreds of times, Vivian always looked forward to the journey and today she was even more eager to hit the trail. Being confined with Sawyer in the SUV was the same as being handed a frosted brownie and told she was forbidden to take a bite. Sheer torture.
Vivian parked the SUV in a safe, out-of-the-way spot and the two of them started up the rocky track that wound through a copse of tall saguaros and Joshua trees.
Following a few feet behind him, she determinedly pushed away the pestering thoughts of Sawyer and did her best to focus on the landscape for signs of vandalism or anything out of the ordinary.
&n
bsp; “Bet this area gets pretty in the spring,” Sawyer commented. “When everything starts blooming.”
“Very,” Vivian replied. “Yet for some reason this part of the park isn’t visited as much as others.”
“It’s too far to walk from the nearest campgrounds and most folks don’t want to get in the vehicle and drive unless they have to,” Sawyer said thoughtfully.
“You’re probably right,” Vivian agreed. “But you know what, I’m not a bit sorry it’s quiet back here. It’s nice having the place to ourselves. Just wait till we get over to the valley. If you don’t ooh and aah, then I’ll know you’re half dead.”
Looking over his shoulder, he tossed her a grin. “I’ll be sure and act impressed. I don’t want you getting the idea I’m half dead.”
Vivian let out a silent groan. Everything about the man was brimming with life and raw masculinity. Something she had to fight to ignore.
Thankfully, he moved on up the trail, leaving her to travel at a slower pace. After a couple of minutes, he disappeared from sight and she paused to dismantle a pile of rocks someone had made near the base of a saguaro.
“Viv! Come here! Quick!”
His urgent call had her glancing around, but she couldn’t spot a sign of him anywhere.
Hurrying forward, she called out, “Sawyer? Where are you?”
Suddenly to her right, about twenty feet off the trail, the top half of Sawyer emerged above a thick stand of chaparral.
“Here, Viv.” He motioned for her to join him. “We have a bit of trouble.”
Vivian scurried through a maze of prickly pear and standpipe cacti until she reached Sawyer. She was about to ask him what all the fuss was about when he moved to one side to reveal a man lying sprawled on the ground.
Horrified at his battered condition, she stared in stunned fascination. “Is he alive?”
She’d barely gotten the question out when the man, who appeared somewhere in his early fifties, began to moan with pain.
Sawyer said, “Yes, but you can see he’s in bad shape.”
They both kneeled over the man, who was making a feeble attempt to sit up. One side of his face was swollen and colored an angry red and purple, while both eyes were little more than tiny slits. He was bleeding from the mouth and was obviously struggling mightily to talk.
“Hey, buddy, I think you need to take it easy.” Sawyer purposely lowered his head back to the ground. To Vivian, he asked, “You want to stay with him while I go radio for help? Or do you want me to?”
Her mind whirling, Vivian continued to stare at the injured man. “I’ll go radio headquarters and let them know we need medical help.”
“Bring the first-aid kit back with you,” he said. “There might be something we can do for the bleeding wounds.”
She turned to hurry away, then paused to look back at him. “Sawyer?”
He glanced at her and she held up a fist and pointed to her knuckles in silent question.
He nodded in grim agreement. “Someone caused this.”
Shivering at the thought, she turned and hurried away, while Sawyer’s observation continued to roll over and over in her mind. Someone caused this. She’d heard those very same words many years ago when the ranch hands had found her father out on the range, his body beaten and broken.
Someone evil had been on this trail or could still be lurking close by. The thought made her realize just how glad she was that Sawyer was with her.
With her eyes scanning every nook and cranny of the trail for anything suspicious, she scrambled down to the SUV and radioed for help. Once she was certain the dispatcher had the correct coordinates to relay, Vivian ended the call and grabbed a small medical kit from the back of the vehicle, along with a duffle bag stuffed with an extra uniform.
When she returned to Sawyer and the injured man, she quickly offered him the duffle bag. “I thought you might pillow his head with this.”
“Thanks.” He stuffed the duffle bag beneath the man’s head. “Are paramedics coming?”
“Yes. I gave the dispatcher our exact location and explained the situation. She was calling for help before I left the vehicle.”
“Great. Maybe EMS will get here soon.”
Vivian looked down at the man, who appeared to be going in and out of consciousness. “Has he been able to say anything?”
“He muttered something about two men and money.” His expression stony, Sawyer shook his head. “I’m no doctor, but this man probably has a bad concussion, maybe a skull fracture. And it appears that one ankle is broken. Possibly both.”
Vivian knelt on the ground next to the man and opened the medical kit. “I’ll try to clean his wounds and hopefully the paramedics won’t be long in getting here.”
“Did you see anyone on the way down to the SUV?” Sawyer questioned her. “Or hear anything? Like a vehicle?”
She poured peroxide onto a square cotton pad and hoped Sawyer didn’t notice how her hands were trembling. “No. I didn’t see or hear anything. What about you? Have you caught sight of anyone passing by on the trail?”
“No. Once he’s taken care of we’ll make a quick search,” Sawyer told her. “I couldn’t find a wallet or ID on him. I’m wondering if the attackers stole them.”
Vivian began to gently wipe at the dirtied wounds on the man’s face. He reacted with a low groan and then his swollen eyes cracked slightly open and attempted to focus on her.
“Who are you?” he asked in groggy confusion.
Sawyer squatted on his heels in order to be closer to the man’s head. “We’re Lake Pleasant park rangers. She’s Ranger Hollister and I’m Ranger Whitehorse,” he informed him. “Can you tell us your name?”
The man lifted fingers to his jaw and winced from the effort. “Stan Roberts. Staying with wife and kids at the campground.”
“How did you get here?” Vivian asked. “We didn’t see a vehicle at the trailhead.”
“Walked,” he answered wearily, then added, “Tell my wife—she’s going to be worried.”
“We’ll notify her as soon as we get you out of here,” Vivian assured him.
“Do you know what happened to you?” Sawyer asked him.
The nod of his head was barely discernible. “Two guys—up on the trail. They wanted money. When they found out I—” he paused and sucked in a long breath before he continued “—didn’t have any—not even a phone—they went crazy and—”
“Decided to take their frustration out on you,” Sawyer finished for him.
“Yeah. One stomped my ankles and told his friend I’d have hell walking out of here on broken legs. I think they might have been high on drugs or something.”
Sawyer gave the victim’s shoulder a comforting pat. “If they’re still in the park, we’ll find them. If not, the sheriff’s department will.”
By the time Vivian finished cleaning the wounds on his face and hands, the man was able to give them a brief description of his attackers. Unfortunately, neither she nor Sawyer recalled seeing anyone of that sort during their rounds.
“If you think you’ll be okay without us for a few minutes, we’re going on up the trail to look around,” Sawyer told him. “We’ll be in shouting distance.”
The man motioned for them to go. “It’s a cinch I’m not going anywhere.”
Seeing the victim was as comfortable as they could make him, Vivian and Sawyer left the thorny chaparral patch, then walked through the cacti patch until they reached the trail.
As the two of them started up the hill, Sawyer said, “Poor fellow. He’s in bad shape, but it could’ve been much worse.”
Vivian had never been a weak-willed woman. She’d never been the type to get the vapors over a broken fingernail. Yet she realized her legs were on the very verge of buckling.
She said, “He’s lucky the devils didn’t kill him.”
“Damned lucky. You were very good back there with him,” he added. “Have you ever seen anything like this here at the park before?”
Horrified that she might collapse in front of him, she struggled valiantly to gather her composure. “No. I’ve seen park visitors injured from falls and bites and burns and things of that sort. And I’ve witnessed a few heated altercations where too much beer had been consumed. But none of them were close to this extent. This is different, Sawyer. It’s very...scary.”
He paused and pinned her with a look of concern. “You’ve been a rock so far, Viv. Don’t fall to pieces on me now.”
She drew in a bracing breath and blew it out. “I’m not. I’m just thinking how I argued with Mort about working alone. I thought I could handle any situation. This proves I was being stupid. Furthermore, he knew it.”
A faint smile touched his lips. “You could’ve handled this problem. Probably worse problems.”
“No!” Before she could stop herself, she reached out and, wrapping both hands around his forearm, held on tight. “You’re wrong about that, Sawyer. I’m so glad you’re here with me. I hate to admit it, but my legs are about to buckle and—” Uncertain as to how to go on, she broke off and as her gaze connected with his, her eyes pleaded with him to understand. “I’m not nearly as strong a ranger as I thought I was.”
“Oh, Viv. You are strong,” he murmured, and then without warning, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against his chest.
The warm strength of his arms enveloped her, while the beat of his heart beneath her cheek soothed her like nothing else could.
Without thinking, she slipped her arms around his waist and for long, long moments, she clung to him, drawing calming sustenance from his embrace.
How much time passed while she stood there holding on to him, she couldn’t say. In fact, she almost forgot the reason they were on Javelina Trail in the first place. Until she felt his fingers slipping gently through her hair and his cheek resting on the top of her head.
Shocked by how lost she’d become in his arms, she quickly stepped back. Yet even as she put several steps between them, her body, her heart, was begging her to reach for him again.
A Ranger For Christmas (Linda Lael Miller Presents; Men 0f The West Book 40) Page 7
