Justice Hunter

by Jennifer Morey

  As soon as the door shut, Lucas returned his attention to Rachel. “How do you feel, Rachel?”

  “Just tired. And in pain.” She winced as she moved her shoulder. She felt so stiff, and the sharp stab reminded her that movement would come slowly.

  “Rest. I’m just so happy to see you awake. They took you into surgery, and that was the longest three hours of my life.”

  “It’ll take a lot more than this to take me down,” she said, trying for humor.

  Lucas didn’t smile. He’d seriously suffered, not knowing whether she’d be all right.

  “Careful, I might start to think you really do care about me.” She smiled through her exhaustion.

  “I do care.”

  In a humanitarian way. His heart was clearly locked away, as she’d just seen.

  “Did you love her?” Rachel had to ask, now that she understood what made him this way, so off-limits with women, his lack of trust. He may have doubts over her involvement with Jared and how much she knew of Luella’s death, but would he feel that way without the betrayal in his past?

  “I felt enough to grow into love,” Lucas said. “Or, at least, I thought I could.”

  “And then she broke your heart.”

  “She stole my future.”

  “You planned a future with her.”

  He straightened from the bed, his hand leaving hers cold. “You should get some rest.”

  “You chose family over the SEALs,” Rachel said, her eyes drooping and her voice cracking with weariness.

  “Don’t go there, Rachel.”

  “Do you still want a family?” She closed her eyes, feeling herself drifting off into a drug-induced sleep, only then realizing it hadn’t been the nurse Lucas had called. He’d given her a dose of pain medication.

  “Go to sleep, Rachel. The doctor said he’d release you in a few days.”

  “That’s so sad.” Rachel nearly whispered now. “She took your love and any chance of finding something new.” With that, she fell into black sleep.

  * * *

  Although Rachel had reclined her seat for the drive to the mountains northwest of Bozeman, she suffered in pain and exhaustion by the time Lucas drove his SUV onto a gravel road. He had to stop to unlock a metal gate, and stop again on the other side to lock it shut again. As he drove up the winding road flanked by a forest of healthy pine trees and a blanket of snow, she felt safer already. Isolation would do her good. She wouldn’t have to worry about that man calling to threaten her, either. Her cell phone had burned in the fire.

  Topping a hill, his ranch came into sight and stole her breath. Gabled windows and big logs made up the large structure, surrounded by a thick forest of pine trees and rocky, forbidding landscape. Rugged, like the owner.

  He parked. “Don’t move.”

  She didn’t think she could even if she tried. So she waited for him to come around to her side. The driveway had been plowed. Someone had maintained the place in his absence. Opening the door, Lucas slid his arms beneath her and lifted her out of the SUV. The movements to do so tweaked her shoulder and sent sharp pain from deep in her upper chest down her arm and through her torso, wearing her down further.

  She couldn’t repress a moan.

  “Sorry.” He tried not to hurt her, but just his walking hurt. The front door opened, verifying Rachel’s guess that someone had been here. He employed help. Had he done that in anticipation of bringing her here?

  “I have the lower room prepared as you requested, Mr. Curran,” the woman said.

  “Thank you, Beverly.”

  “Homemade chicken noodle soup will be ready at six.”

  “Excellent.”

  “I can eat more than soup. I don’t have the flu,” Rachel said from the cradle of his arms as he carried her inside. She was rather hungry. Hospital food didn’t inspire the taste buds, and she hadn’t eaten much with the prospect of going somewhere so remote with Lucas. Finding out his soft spot had endeared her too much.

  “There will also be cheesesteak sliders and a salad.” The midfifties woman wiped her hands on her apron. “I didn’t think I was only feeding an injured woman. I have a strapping man to feed, as well.” She winked at Lucas. “It’s good to see you again.” To Rachel she said, “I worked for his father for years until I retired up here with my husband. We have a place just thirty minutes from here.”

  “I’m glad to have you while we’re here,” Lucas said, effortlessly holding Rachel in the entry, his handsome, kind face speaking of the respect he had for the woman.

  How many times had she dreamed of what it would be like to have a family of her own? She’d longed to have her parents back right after they were killed. She’d imagined what it would have been like had they still lived. A dream. A fantasy. Something far more magical than reality may have been. Those had morphed into a family of her own. Husband, kids. A boy and a girl, three years apart. Idyllic. And, most of the time, unattainable.

  “You get her settled. Just holler if you need me.” Beverly walked back into the house, which Rachel noticed with fuller attention.

  The large entry opened to a living room with exposed ceiling and a river-rock fireplace. Antique, rustic furniture accented by light earth tones beckoned cozy nights before a big-screen TV mounted to the log wall. A kitchen ran along the back, a long island dividing the living room from a twelve-seated dining table with a chandelier hanging down in the center. As Lucas carried her across the living room, she saw the wall of windows in the back and a smaller, more private, sunken family room.

  Anyone could live here. The signs of money were conservative and leaned more toward a casual lifestyle.

  Lucas carried her past a bathroom to the end of the hall. “There are two master bedrooms down here. A loft upstairs and two more masters. I figured everyone should have their own who came to visit.”

  She managed enough energy to smile at his idle chatter. Was he nervous about carrying her into his home? Maybe he felt the same as her, anxious over spending so much time alone. His housekeeper wouldn’t be around 24/7.

  “I took the liberty of asking Beverly to fill your closet,” he said as he stopped at the king-size bed.

  As he lowered her down, she didn’t dwell on the thoughtfulness of his action. Her clothes had burned with his house. She didn’t have much at her apartment.

  She closed her eyes to the wave of nauseating pain.

  “Sorry.” He gently slid his arms out from under her, and she lay comfortably reclined on the pillows. The covers had been drawn back ahead of her arrival.

  She listened to him go into the closet and opened her eyes when he reappeared with a nightgown.

  “You’ll be more comfortable in this.”

  Yes, but how would she get into that? Just the thought of moving more made her recoil.

  “I can ask Beverly to help you.”

  “No. Just leave it. I’ll manage.” Even as she said it, she yelled out in pain as she tried to shrug out of her jacket.

  Lucas helped her. “I won’t look.”

  With the jacket gone, she now had an oversize long-sleeved T-shirt that he’d had for her at the hospital, something roomy for ease of removal. He lifted that over her head. Wearing no bra, the cool air touched her nipples.

  Though he’d said he wouldn’t look, as a man he couldn’t stop himself. She understood that. A few awkward seconds passed while he put the nightgown over her head and stepped back as she pulled it down over her, the lower part pooling at her waist.

  Rachel struggled to take off the sweatpants he’d also brought for her.

  Reluctantly, Lucas stepped forward and knelt before her. His warm hands took the waist and slid them down. Rachel lifted up enough to get them past her butt.

  She heard his breathing grow heavier as he pulled them down
her slender legs. With her boots still on, she had to wait for him to untie them and take them from her feet. That done, he removed the sweatpants and tossed them aside. Then he stared at the smooth, creamy texture of her skin. He lifted his hand and almost touched her.

  Rachel imagined the feel of him sliding down her legs. More. She wouldn’t have stopped him. Indeed, his desire was the best pain medicine of all.

  * * *

  With Rachel sleeping on and off over the past three days, Lucas had kept busy reviewing case files, reading, or watching television. He also did patrols around his property and kept an eye out for strange vehicles. No one had come, so he was fairly certain they were safe here. A storm had moved in and looked as if it would stay awhile, too. His housekeeper stopped by once a day to prepare meals and clean, but he’d told her to stay home until the storm passed. Until today, he’d asked her to help Rachel bathe each day, not trusting himself to do it and not enjoy touching her too much. Luckily, Rachel had refused his help in the shower, only requiring him to prepare with a fresh towel and new nightgown he thought best never to see her in. The filmy thing would be see-through in the right light.

  Unable to sleep, he left his room across from Rachel’s and turned on the television in the family room. He started the gas fireplace, too, fleetingly wishing he had someone to share it with. Rachel.

  Shaking off the thought, he found a good action movie. As he turned to go to a recliner and distract himself with car chases and gunfire, he caught sight of Rachel walking toward him. She had her hand on the back of the living room sofa.

  “What are you doing up?” He went to her, putting his hand under her arm to support her.

  Through the dark living room and drape-free windows, outdoor light illuminated heavy snowfall.

  “I’m feeling better now.”

  Helping her into the family room, he wished he didn’t look down and see her breasts in the firelight. He put her on the sofa, grabbing some pillows and propping her there. Next came a throw, more for him than her.

  She covered herself with a sleepy smile. “Thanks.”

  “Are you hungry? You slept through dinner.”

  “No. Some tea, maybe?”

  “Sure.” Glad for the diversion—and the distance from her—he went to the kitchen and started some water boiling.

  “This is a good movie,” she said, sounding livelier than she had since before she was shot.

  It struck him that she liked action movies. Maybe not so unusual, but he liked that she had it in common with him. He came back into the room with her steaming cup and put it down onto the coffee table.

  She bobbed the tea bag and looked over at him. Those golden-brown eyes enchanted him, peering out from a curtain of shiny but messy dark hair that swung forward over her shoulder.

  Her words before she slipped unconscious at the hospital ran through his mind again.

  She took your love and any chance of finding something new.

  That’s so sad...

  Had he given up on love? Funny, how he’d never thought about that. He had no interest in involving himself in another relationship, hadn’t put a time frame on when he’d try again, and then his sister had been murdered.

  “Have you heard from your ex lately?”

  Why was she so curious about that? “No.”

  “You should forgive her.”

  Rachel was taking pain medication, so he let that one slide. He sat on the recliner and put his feet up, enjoying the companionship.

  She sipped her tea, and those lovely, soft eyes shifted toward him. “Why can’t you?”

  “Watch the movie.”

  “If you don’t let go of that, Lucas, you’ll never find happiness.”

  Lucas picked up the remote and turned the volume up a little.

  Rachel didn’t stop poking where it hurt. “I didn’t know you were excited to start a family.”

  “Rachel.” He pointed toward the TV.

  “Seriously. You would have given up your career for that.”

  His tactic didn’t work. “Yes.”

  “Would you still?”

  It seemed a daring question from a woman who distanced herself from her friends. That wasn’t enough to stave the pain. He felt himself rebel, unable to control his response. “Would you open yourself up to that?”

  She put her cup down and leaned back with a slight wince. “I’ve had a lot of time to lie around and think about it.” She leaned her head back and looked up at the ceiling awhile. Then she lowered it to look into the fire. “Nan was right.”

  She had taken some time to think.

  “I want to plan a party after all of this is over. Invite all the friends I left behind after my parents died.”

  “Like a reunion?”

  “Yes.” A big smile spread. “I’d love to decorate a room and dream up some corny games. Play music. Dance.” She closed her eyes. “My dad planned the most fun parties when I was a kid. Maybe I’ll re-create one of those.” She smiled with the warm memory.

  “What did your dad do for a living?” he asked, the question suddenly coming to him that she should have had some kind of inheritance.

  “He was an auto mechanic. But he owned a shop.” Her head fell back again, and into a dreamy past she went.

  “And your mother?”

  Rachel sighed but not with stress, only relaxed bliss. “She stayed at home. They didn’t have any money but they were happy. She also had a lot of friends who’d either come over for reading club meetings, or she’d take me with her to events and craft classes, lunches. You name it. She was always active.”

  “Like you.”

  She belatedly noticed his James Dean slouch, jaw propped in hand, lazy leg spread.

  “Like me? What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She did. His conversation with Nan and all of this close contact had enlightened him, the same as it had enlightened her about him.

  “I lost my way,” she conceded.

  “That held when you were young,” he said. “Not now. You’re in a pattern now. One you should break.”

  She didn’t respond, but he saw how what he said resonated. She hadn’t been willing to admit it before, but she could now.

  “Plan your party, Rachel.”

  She looked over at him and smiled. But just as quickly as it appeared, the joy of planning something like that vanished, and she turned away. What had dimmed her light? He suspected he had a lot to do with it. How much of his conversation with Tory had she heard?

  Circumstances kept her with him now, but what about later? After they caught Luella’s killer, what then? She’d go back to her studio apartment and finish school, continue her quest to improve her life. He’d go back to...what? He’d left his job in California to join an elite cold-case investigation agency. He’d work, pour himself into his career.

  Rachel’s talk about family had shaken something loose in him, a wall he’d erected that had stood impenetrable for years. When Tory had told him she was pregnant, he’d felt an instant sense of purpose and rightness. He could have easily taken on the role of father. He would have devoted his life to her and their baby, and every other that might come after that. His career with the SEALs had come second. Blaming Tory for losing that had been a reaction to her lie, nothing more.

  But times had changed. His sister’s murder had changed everything. This kind of purpose he could not walk away from. And he could not forget that Rachel played a complicated role in the crime. Preferably an innocent one, but could he be one hundred percent sure?

  * * *

  Water trickled down from a fountain in the middle of a lush and flowering courtyard. The fragrance of lilies and man filled her senses. He lay her down on a bed of green leaves, soft and warm under the shaded
sun. Shirtless and tan, he was a god above her. Blue-gray eyes demanded hers to engage while he ran his hands down her body, over the curve of her breasts and down. She had on swimsuit bottoms, and he slid those down until she could kick them free. Sweet, forbidden heat kept her prisoner to his touch. Something warned her that a mistake loomed. If she continued, she’d pay the price, a dark price. But she could not turn away from his eyes. They glowed with otherworldly power. She felt tied to him, unable to escape...

  Rachel woke to Lucas lifting her from the couch, still floating with the dream, still in that between state, not quite back to the real world. He was the god. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she knew the movie had finished and he’d turned off the television. She looped her arm around his neck. Even the slight twinge of pain in her chest didn’t bring her back from the dream. He moved fluidly and with gentle arms.

  Glancing down, he caught her dreamy look and looked down again, this time staying with her in that place. In her room, he lowered her to the bed. She held on to his shirt, stopping his withdrawal. He put his hand on the mattress and hovered over her a moment, enchanting her until he slowly brought his mouth to hers. The contact gave her a jolt of passion along with zapping her back to the real world. Temptation circled her heart, swirling up a storm of desire too strong to deny. When he rose just a little and she saw his yearning, she thought of him giving up his career for the family he’d been duped into thinking he’d have, and she melted even more.

  She touched his cheek, wishing just this once she could have been that woman he’d championed. Only she wouldn’t have lied.

  He kissed her again, slow and meaningful, as though he’d read her thoughts. Rachel knew she’d not turn back now. This felt too right. This lovemaking had never felt more right to her.

  Breaking the exchange, Lucas cupped her breast, the one not bruised from the gunshot, which had penetrated just above the left one. She didn’t let it ruin the moment. She marveled at how close to her dream this felt. It was as though she’d never awakened. He kissed her while he caressed. She held his face with one hand, not moving her other arm because it would hurt to do so.

  Ending that kiss, he lifted the hem of her nightgown, taking great care as he slid the garment up and over her head. Next, he removed his tight T-shirt, the next best thing to being bare-chested.