Anton lifted his chin, stepping a little out of the slow-moving line toward the open office door. He saw a huge three-story red barn. And on the other side of it were square pipe holding pens with wranglers busy with Hereford cattle. It looked like they were vaccinating them but he couldn’t be sure at this distance. He had a small pair of binoculars in his coat pocket and they could make the difference. Anton didn’t want to pull them out and draw attention to himself. He wanted to blend in.
Where was Shiloh Gallagher? He saw her nowhere. Although, there was a small café between the major office area and those big red barns. And it was nine A.M. He itched to get out of line and wander down toward that area. Maybe she was eating in the café? A sense of contained rage ate at his gut. Automatically, his fingers curled into fists deep in the pockets of his jacket.
He saw activity over at the wildlife road entrance. A woman was opening the large wooden gate that would take tourists down to the loop. Anton calmed himself. Once he got inside the small, cramped office to pay his fee, he’d take any brochures the ranch offered. Perhaps there was another way to hang around the ranch without looking out of place after he finished the drive. This morning was a reconnoitering mission as far as he was concerned.
Later, as Anton followed the group of people down to the loop entrance where there were huge areas fenced off to keep cattle in nearby pastures off the wide, smooth road, he saw nothing to indicate that Shiloh was at the ranch. There were many places she could be.
In his pocket were several brochures. Among them, the ranch offered tourists one-, two-, or three-hour horseback rides on trails. There was a major dirt road leading opposite the loop drive and heading out between two huge, flat, grassy pastures. On the map he held, it read “Pine Grove.”
As the group moved slowly to get their entrance ticket, Anton figured it would be a good way to get the layout of the ranch, provided he could prove Gallagher was here. Where the hell was she?
* * *
An hour later, done with the wildlife drive, Anton parked his car in the office parking lot. He was now going to begin his further exploration of the ranch. Anton was ambling up the red brick sidewalk, one of the last people to leave, and he spotted Shiloh. His heart beat swiftly in his chest as he saw her entering the main office of the ranch. She was in a pair of jeans and cowboy boots, wearing a dark blue nylon jacket, her hair loose and shining across her shoulders. He forced himself to keep shuffling up the sloping brick walk. He couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement. The asphalt lot where he’d parked his car was to the right of that office, along with everyone else’s vehicles. He didn’t want to be seen by her, although he doubted she’d recognize him.
As Anton crossed the street toward the parking lot, he saw Shiloh pop out of the office, take the steps, papers in hand. She moved quickly next door to the medical office and disappeared inside it. Smiling, he wondered where she was living.
Once seated in his rented car, a silver SUV, Anton waited, hoping to see Shiloh again. The windows were darkly tinted and he knew no one could identify him. He removed his jacket and sat watching the office area. Dividing his attention between that and the brochures he placed up on the dashboard, Anton felt low-key excitement. This was exactly like stalking a buck. A number of wranglers on horseback rode by, lariats in their gloved hands. There was no question this was a busy, working ranch. The largest in the valley.
Twenty minutes later, Shiloh left the first aid office, taking the wooden steps to the red brick sidewalk. Anton remained quiet, watching her. She quickly climbed the steps to the main office, disappearing inside. But she wasn’t carrying the papers she had in her hand before. Was she working in the office? If so, WHERE was she staying on the ranch? He’d noticed a KEEP OUT sign as he’d walked with the group down the red brick sidewalk. A sign read: EMPLOYEE HOUSING. And it had a large white picket fence around the entire area, along with the big red KEEP OUT sign. He had also seen six large wood cabins beyond the main ranch building area. It appeared that tourists stayed in them.
Picking up the brochure, he read that the Wind River Ranch offered six cabins to tourists who wanted to stay on the ranch. The prices were in line with what a motel might charge. In another brochure was an illustrated map of the hundred-thousand-acre ranch. There were plenty of roads in and around the main area. He saw Pine Grove and the wide, flat dirt road that led between and around it. Anton wondered if Shiloh ever rode out in the area of Pine Grove. He could set up a hide, like a sniper, and lie in wait for her to appear. Of course, getting onto the ranch property wouldn’t be easy, but not impossible. Anton saw another dirt road a mile from the main road into the area that led around and to the pine grove area, as well.
He saw most of the vehicles were gone, and decided he’d best be leaving too. He didn’t want to draw any interest as to why he was sitting in the parking lot alone. Reluctantly, Anton slowly drove out of the lot and onto the main asphalt two-lane road that would lead to the entrance of the ranch. Smiling to himself, he felt his chest swell with pride. He’d hit pay dirt.
* * *
“I had the weirdest feeling this morning,” Shiloh confided to Roan after dinner. They sat at the dinner table after finishing their dessert. She frowned and rubbed the nape of her neck.
Roan frowned. He saw anxiety in Shiloh’s green eyes. It had been a while since he’d seen her like this. “Did something spook you?” he wondered.
Shrugging, Shiloh muttered, “I have no idea what happened. I was walking from the accounting office back to the main office when this horrible feeling came over me.”
His mouth thinned as he heard the worry in her tone. “What triggered it?”
Frustrated, Shiloh said, “That’s the problem. I don’t know.” She looked around the quiet house, the slats of the western sun flooding the living room area. “It really caught me off guard because I felt this same way when my stalker was standing outside my apartment door and waiting. . . .” Setting the coffee cup aside, Shiloh gave Roan a distressed look. “I am so happy here.... I’ve finally settled in and I’m relaxed. I don’t worry about my stalker.”
“And then this overwhelming feeling of threat hit you this morning?”
“Yes.” Rubbing her brow, she shook her head. “It was stupid.”
“Did you look around? See who was in the vicinity?”
“Yes, a quick glance. There were a couple of cars in the parking lot, some cowboys riding past on their horses, but nothing else. I mean, nothing out of the ordinary. That’s what has me so flummoxed, Roan.”
“Did you have a nightmare last night? Maybe that triggered the reaction this morning?”
“No . . . no, I slept really, really well. I woke up happy and looking forward to the day. To writing another chapter on my book that’s due.” She moved her fingers across the gold and red cedar table. “I don’t know. It was crazy. Out of sync.”
Roan moved the coffee cup slowly around between his large hands. “Did you get this feeling of threat all the time back at your apartment in New York City?” He saw the stress and worry amp up in Shiloh’s eyes. He wanted to hold her. He had sworn not to make any move in that direction with Shiloh. He would respect her boundaries although, God knew, it was the last thing he wanted to do. Roan KNEW he could calm her. Help her. Make her feel safe and protected. But Shiloh’s fear of getting too deep into a relationship was scaring her away from him and Roan had no answer or way to get her to change her mind. She was worrying her lower lip; something she’d done often when she first came to the ranch. The last three weeks, he’d seen her relax. Until just now.
“I got that very same threat feeling at different times,” she admitted quietly. “I’d be out jogging in Central Park and it would hit me. But not all the time. Just sometimes.”
“Did you ever see a man watching you?” he wondered.
“There’s so many men and women in the park, Roan, I couldn’t honestly tell if one of the men was looking in my direction or watching me from the bushes.�
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“What other times did this feeling come over you?”
“In my apartment.” She wrapped her arms around herself, closing her eyes, trying to push away the terror that she always felt when it happened. “I’d be at my desk writing, or watching TV, and it would hit me. And then, I could hear movement on the other side of my apartment door. Like . . . like he was rubbing sandpaper against the door. I could hear it. It scared the hell out of me.”
He felt his gut tighten. “Did your door have a peephole?”
Nodding, Shiloh said, “Sometimes, when I heard that noise, I knew he was out there.” She gave him an apologetic look. “But I was too scared to go check. To see who it was. I was afraid if I approached the door, he’d bust it down and grab me.” She tapped her head. “Writer’s imagination firing on all cylinders, believe me.”
“So you stood or sat there listening to it?” Roan was getting a firsthand taste of how she was being stalked. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing.
“Y-yes. I’m ashamed of myself, Roan. I should have gone to the door. If I knew what his face looked like, I could have helped the police. But I was too damned scared. And I gig myself now that I didn’t force myself to look out that peephole and prove there was a man out there trying to get into my apartment.”
“Besides that sanding sound, were there any other indicators someone was out there?” he asked gently, seeing the fear drench her green eyes.
“Yes.” Shiloh shivered and looked away, her voice strained. “He slowly started turning the doorknob. First one way, and then the other. It—it was horrible, Roan. I was so afraid he had a key to my apartment. That—that he’d open it up and come in after me.”
To hell with it.
Roan set his cup aside and reached out, his large hand scooping up her smaller one. He saw small beads of perspiration on her upper lip, saw the scattered, wild look of a hunted animal that was trapped in her gaze. “You’re here, with me,” he growled. His fingers curved firmly around her damp ones. “No one is going to hurt you while you’re here with me, Shiloh.” Roan saw some of the fear dissolve, her mouth, tight and compressed, relaxing a bit. He was deeply touched that he had that kind of positive impact on her. But he’d known that from the day he’d met her at the airport. There was something magical that drew them to each other. They were good for each other too. Roan wished for the hundredth time that Shiloh understood their connection was solid.
“My head knows that,” she whispered, giving him a brief look, feeling shame. “But my emotions are shredded by six months of this terror, Roan.”
He gently turned her hand around between his, holding her troubled gaze. “If this EVER happens again while you’re here?”
“Yes?”
“Call me. I’ll come from wherever I’m working and get to you as soon as I can.”
“What will that accomplish?”
“I’m trained to see the enemy, Shiloh. And I’m good at looking at a lot of people and picking out a predator.” He watched her gnaw on her lower lip, feeling the fine tension in her hand and arm. “You don’t know what this guy looks like. Maybe his body language or the way he’s looking at you would give him away to me.”
“God, Roan . . . how did he find me out here?”
“You’re assuming he did.”
“The only time I get this horrible feeling is with this stalker.”
Nodding, he asked, “Did you tell anyone where you were going?”
“No, only my editor knew. And she has no reason to tell anyone. She wants me to hand my next book in on time.”
“Okay,” Roan murmured, absorbing the soft touch of her fingers between his hands. “You’re a famous author. You must have a blog? A Facebook page?”
“I do, but my webmistress, Chloe, handles that stuff.”
“Did she know you were out here?” He saw Shiloh give him a sudden, stricken look.
“Oh, God,” she muttered, touching her brow. “I’ve been sending Chloe photos and text with them. But I didn’t tell her NOT to post them! What was I thinking?” and she scrunched her eyes closed, her hand pressed to her face, completely embarrassed.
“You were distracted,” Roan soothed. “It’s all right. You can get ahold of her by e-mail tonight and tell her to stop posting them, but just to hold them until you get home.” Roan didn’t want Shiloh to go home. No way. But he knew she would.
“Y-yes, that’s a good idea.” She stared anxiously at him. “Do you think my stalker read those entries on my FB page?”
Shrugging, Roan said, “I don’t know. But the reaction you had this morning says that he might be out here starting to stalk you again. What you need to do is check with Chloe to see if she did put that info up on your FB page to verify it.”
“Yes, I’ll do that, but I’m SURE Chloe put them up.”
Roan hated to scare her, but he wasn’t going to lie to Shiloh. He squeezed her hand gently between his, getting her attention. “Look, I’m here. We can tell Maud and Steve about this. They’ll inform all the employees to be on the lookout for a man who might be asking a lot of questions, mentioning your name or asking where you’re at. This can all be handled tomorrow morning, Shiloh. Unlike New York City cops who wouldn’t believe you, we will.” His voice dropped to a growl. “And we’ll find the bastard. Stalkers usually hide in groups and they try not to stand out and be noticed” He could feel a fine tremor go through Shiloh.
Releasing her hand, Roan stood up and walked around to where she sat. He pulled the chair out and then pulled her into his arms, embracing her. Shiloh’s arms went around his waist, her face pressed into his chest, as if to hide. He bit back a groan as she fully leaned against him, as if seeking sanctuary. Her red hair was loose and grazed his chin and jaw. Inhaling her special scent, Roan filled his lungs with it, feeling himself responding. It was the last thing Shiloh needed. She came into his arms because she trusted him. Not because she wanted sex with him. Getting a steel grip on himself, Roan willed away his reaction. He lifted his hand, lightly threading his fingers through that red, silky mass of her hair. Shiloh quivered and he wasn’t sure if it was from the fear she felt or if the stroking motions were translating into something more heated between them.
Gritting his teeth, he stood quietly, holding her, but not crushing her against him. Shiloh had to know she was free to step out of his embrace anytime she wanted. And God knew, he wanted to stay in her arms. He pushed away the fantasy he had every night when he lay down in his bed, of her being in his arms, being there at his side, of them loving each other.
Sternly, Roan told himself his role right now was to make Shiloh feel protected. The more he slid his hand across her tangled hair, the more she responded by thrusting herself fully into his arms. Roan felt no more quivering. Aware of her breasts pressed against his chest, he felt their warmth, their curved softness. His fingers itched to cup them, taste them, have Shiloh come apart in his arms.
Cursing silently, Roan willed himself to do or say nothing. Just the simple act of slowly smoothing her hair with his hand seemed to tame this wild filly of his. And that’s how Roan saw her: a wild, willful, independent filly, full of life, curiosity, and spontaneity. And he wanted to capture that, share that fiery spirit of hers. A slight smile cut across his mouth as he felt Shiloh languish in the gathering silence of the kitchen as he held her. No question, Shiloh WAS willful. But he liked that about her. In some ways, she was fearless. In other ways, fear controlled her life.
Roan knew as he felt her curves against his body that he could set Shiloh free from the fear. He felt his heart swell with a fierceness because he knew she would flourish beneath his hands, his experience and wisdom. But so would he because Shiloh would teach him about being more spontaneous, more in the moment. They were a good match for each other, no question. There was a natural balance they shared and, so far, Roan could see they worked off each other’s strengths, not their weaknesses. And he knew from his parents’ marriage, which had lasted so long, that they
did the same thing.
He placed a light kiss on the top of her head. If he didn’t ease her out of his arms, he was going to have an obvious erection. That wouldn’t go over well right now.
“Better?” he asked gruffly, pulling her away just enough to look into her half-closed green eyes. Damned if he didn’t see arousal in them. A deep ache began within his heart. He knew what love was. And he knew what love was not. Just the way her lips parted, he wanted to lean down, brush her mouth with his, an invitation. A promise of so many good things to come if she’d only trust him fully with herself.
Roan saw confusion come to her eyes and then Shiloh pulled away, moving his hand against her hair, pushing it away from her face. Yeah, he was confused too. Did arousal show in his gaze too? Most likely. If Roan could see it in her face, she was experienced enough to see he wanted her. He wasn’t made of stone. He was a flesh-and-blood man. And it felt as if the heated air was vibrating between them, filled with possibility. With whispered promises.
Swallowing hard, Roan forced himself to take a step back from Shiloh. His erection was pressing painfully against the zipper of his Levi’s. He needed to move it to ease his discomfort.
“I’ll clean up tonight. Why don’t you take a long soak in the bathtub?” His gruff words came out almost guttural because Roan wanted her so damn bad he could taste it. He saw Shiloh nod, frowning, the arousal doused in her wide, green eyes.
“Yes,” she said, her voice almost wispy sounding, “that’s a good idea. . . .”
Roan watched her turn and pad down the hall. Just the way her hips swayed, he felt the ache intensify his erection. Damn, but the woman was hot. Running his fingers through his short hair in an aggravated motion, Roan got busy cleaning up the kitchen.
As he worked, he didn’t try to fantasize about Shiloh stripping out of her clothes, or sliding into the welcoming warm water, her skin glistening like diamonds. Taking the bar of soap, lathering up his hands and washing her. Every last, square inch of her. By the time he’d gotten the dishes into the dishwasher, wiped the table and counter down, Roan decided to get the hell out of the house. If he didn’t, he was going to open that bathroom door.
Wind River Wrangler Page 19
