Rocky Mountain Lawman

by Rachel Lee

“You going out tonight?” Don suddenly asked.

  They were done with dinner now and having coffee at the table. “Not tonight,” Craig said. “Tomorrow. Maybe. I’m still trying to think of a reason to approach Buddy again without making him nervous.”

  “Better to talk if we can. Did you ever find why the river is so low?”

  “No, damn it, not yet. And I can’t exactly prove it’s too dry.”

  “It’s too dry,” Don said flatly. “We know that. But you’re right, proving it is tough.”

  “I’ve used the flow meter a few times, in a couple of different places, but I need to compare it with past readings.”

  “It would be interesting to know if there’s some place where the flow is normal.”

  Craig shrugged. “That’s just as hard as anything else. It seems normal upstream from Buddy’s place, but there’s always a whole lot less water there anyway. Nothing yet I can pin on him.”

  “He might not even be responsible.” Don shook his head. “How about I go over there. I can act like we haven’t even discussed it and ask him if he’s noticed anything. Tell him I’ve been traveling from downstream because the water volume appears to be down.”

  “I did that already. He claimed he didn’t know anything about it. But it made a good excuse for looking over a lot of streams around his place. I don’t think he’d go for it a second time. Would you?”

  “Probably not. Okay, I’ll think on it and see you here tomorrow night. If you’re going over there, you’re not going alone.”

  After Don said good-night and rode away, Craig found himself facing Sky, who appeared quite annoyed. “You’re absolutely not proposing a solo night recon over there.”

  “Solo is the best way to go.”

  She cussed a word he’d never heard pass her lips before and stormed into the cabin. Wow, that was some reaction. He kinda liked the fire in her eyes. Almost as if an invisible cord pulled him, he followed her inside. He found her tossing another split log on the fire, which really didn’t require it, but apparently she needed something to do.

  He stood just inside the door, waiting for the thunder and lightning. He suspected she wasn’t the type to keep silent if she didn’t have to, and right now she didn’t have to.

  “Are you an idiot?” she asked him eventually, her voice far too calm.

  “Not that I’m aware of,” he answered easily, wondering where this was going and rather curious about it.

  “You have the training to know better.”

  “I also have the training. Don doesn’t. Good as he may be, I might as well take a rhinoceros over there with me.”

  He caught the corner of her mouth twitching, as if humor had almost overcome her, but then it thinned out again. He realized he was enjoying this.

  “Craig...you don’t know what those trip wires are attached to.”

  “I need to find out.”

  “For all you know they’re patrolling the boundary every night. You don’t even know how many of them there are.”

  “I need to find that out, too.”

  She slammed the stove door shut and twisted the lock. “Solo recon is a suicide mission. You know that. I shouldn’t even have to remind you.”

  “Remind away.”

  Her eyes sparked as she glared at him. “What if those trip wires are hooked up to explosives? Have you considered that?”

  “Absolutely. That’s why I need to get close enough to look, and I can’t do that in broad daylight.”

  “Doing it at night will get you turned into hamburger. What if those guys have C-4?”

  “They could have dynamite for all the difference it will make. But I’ve got to find out more about what’s going on.”

  “What made it so important? Water?”

  “No. The fact they’re watching you. You said it yourself, if they’re worried about a painter, they’ve got something to hide, and people with something to hide are generally up to no good. Somebody has to find out.”

  “Then call the damn ATF. That’s their job.”

  “I would if I had any evidence for them. What have we got, Sky? A lot of supposition, and some guys who are apparently creeping around in the woods and just generally acting like people who creep. Creeping and being a creep aren’t illegal.”

  She glared for another moment, then a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. “That’s a lot of creep.”

  He had to smile back. “I’m not a writer. So, okay, seriously, what do we really know? Not enough to call the ATF. A few guys running around in camouflage with apparently legal AR-15s isn’t going to make a case. Since I can hardly go up to them and ask if they’ve rigged those guns for automatic fire instead of semi-automatic, I’ve got to find something else. Or find out that they’re not doing anything wrong at all and we can just ignore them.”

  “Ignoring them isn’t at the top of my list,” she admitted. “Not after today. Okay, I’ll go with you on recon.”

  “No. You stay here.”

  Her chin set visibly. “If I were standing here in uniform, would you say that? Cut the chauvinist protective stuff. I’m trained, too.”

  He folded his arms. “You know, it was so much easier in the old days.”

  “These aren’t the old days.”

  “No kidding. I’m not trying to be chauvinistic. I know better. The thing is, protection is my job. It’s not yours. I’ve got no business dragging a visitor into any of this.”

  “If I recall correctly, Buddy dragged me into this.”

  Right then he had an overwhelming urge to drag her into his arms and kiss her until her lips were swollen, her body limp in his arms and her eyes hazy with desire. He didn’t need a neon sign, though, to warn him this was exactly the wrong time to play caveman.

  But she was something else, standing her ground like this, giving him what-for. He’d seen her in a time of weakness, and now he was seeing the steel core at her center. She was magnificent.

  He suspected that wouldn’t be a good thing to say right now either. So he waited.

  When she spoke, her tone had moderated, but remained forceful. “If those guys aren’t just playing, if they’re up to something that could hurt someone, then it’s my business, too. I took an oath and it didn’t end the day I ditched my uniform.”

  She was boxing him in with arguments he couldn’t dismiss. He knew exactly what she meant, just as he’d understood when she had insisted she wouldn’t abandon a buddy. Some things just ran too deep.

  But damn, it was frustrating when all he wanted to do was settle this issue without dragging her into trouble. Hell, there might not be any trouble, but at the moment he wouldn’t bet on it.

  She poured coffee and settled in the one padded chair. He poured himself some more, too, and took a bench. Staring into his mug, he thought it all over one more time. Each little piece and how they kept adding up. Any way he looked at it, a certainty gnawed at him that those guys were up to no good. He could not ignore it.

  And glancing at Sky, he realized he wasn’t going to be able to keep her out of it. He couldn’t order her to leave, and as long as she remained she might be at risk. Today had pretty much made that clear.

  He thought about asking her if she’d go somewhere else but he already knew what her answer would be. No doubt of it.

  Sky was loaded for bear.

  Chapter 8

  The morning dawned hazy and gray, not a good day for painting. All contrast had vanished from the world, and the colors looked dark and haunted.

  Sky stared out the window, for once not minding that weather was going to keep her from painting. Instead she thought over the night before. After her eruption at Craig, things had settled down. He hadn’t treated her the way Hector had, giving her the cold shoulder. No, they’d simply moved on to other conversations and other activities.

  They’d slept side-by-side in separate bedrolls again, and sleep had been elusive for her because her mind insisted on noticing how close he was, how easy it would be to
reach out and touch him, draw him close, beg him to love her.

  God, she wanted to feel desirable again. It had been so long now that she wondered if Hector hadn’t been right about her.

  She didn’t even trust the heat she sometimes thought she saw in Craig’s gaze. She must be imagining it because she wanted it so much. After all, he’d kissed her once, just briefly, and then had pulled back. She’d turned him off, not on. Let that be a lesson.

  Funny how life didn’t go the way a person wanted. Ever. Big plans, big dreams, and somehow they got gobbled up in reality. While she had never imagined herself as a Picasso or Pollack, she had still hoped she might be able to make a modest living with her painting. That hadn’t happened yet, and like a great many artists, she supported her art with a job.

  It was an important job, no question. She was proud and pleased to be able to help her fellow vets however emotionally wrenching it got. She had always wanted to do something that mattered, and that was certainly a job that was important. She figured she had done important things in the army, too, although sometimes that wasn’t so easy to remember. But she had served and served well.

  But after all she had been through, dreams of a husband and family seemed to be dissipating on the road behind her like dust devils after a car passed.

  She knew Craig couldn’t be the one she had hoped for simply because their lives were too divergent and he seemed happy with the solitude of the woods and his job. But dang, surely a fling wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Just a fling to let her know there wasn’t something wrong with her.

  But did she really want that question answered? What if the answer reinforced Hector’s declaration? She’d never recover from such a judgment from two men.

  So it was best to ignore her growing ache for a man who showed little interest. She liked him a whole lot, he was fun to be with and that was the safest place to leave it. Better to indulge a private fantasy than take that risk again.

  Other risks were far easier to take, like going on a night recon with Craig to find out if Buddy had something illegal attached to his trip wires. To find out how many people were in that compound—and yes, she was thinking of it as a compound now—and what they were up to.

  It was possible that she was exaggerating the whole threat. Iraq had taught her to be sensitive to things she had never thought about before. Little signs. Little intuitions. Little niggles that something wasn’t right. In theory she existed in a different world these days, but those instincts were surging again because of Buddy’s odd behavior and the feeling she was being watched or stalked.

  After yesterday, though, they should know that all she was armed with was an oil painter’s kit. They should think there was nothing to worry about with her.

  She guessed it would all depend on how much paranoia plagued them. The more paranoid, the more likely they were total wackos of one kind or another. Either they needed some serious psychiatric help, or they needed to be arrested.

  “Good morning.”

  Craig’s deep, husky voice coming from right behind her almost startled her. She hadn’t heard him get up. Too lost in thought, she decided as she realized she could smell coffee brewing. He hadn’t let the fire go out overnight, a good thing given that she’d probably be stuck here most of the day from the looks of it.

  “Good morning,” she replied without turning around.

  “Dismal day.”

  “I’m never going to complain about rain again, after Iraq.”

  He chuckled quietly, then astonished her by gripping her shoulders and drawing her back a bit until she leaned against his chest. Such a hard, solid chest, and warm against her back. All of a sudden she wanted to melt into a puddle.

  Then, almost tentatively, his arms wrapped around her, enclosing her waist, gently pinning her arms at her side.

  She felt the warmth of his breath on her neck and tipped her head to the side, welcoming it. She held her breath in anticipation, surprised that he had made this move, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t end here. That he would find her neck with his lips. That his hands, now loosely around her, would begin to move against her, trespassing in the most exciting of places. Exploring her. Learning her.

  A heat was blooming deep within her, accompanied by an aching hope. All her fears of her own inadequacy burned away as every single cell in her body responded to building need. A kiss, a touch, oh, please!

  His warm lips brushed her neck lightly. A shiver rippled through her and her knees turned weak.

  “You’re so tempting,” he whispered. “So tempting.”

  Another rush of pleasure filled her, even as some little voice in her brain warned: tempting isn’t the same as satisfying.

  That thought once again acted like a cold-water bath. What was she doing? Had she lost her mind? Could she possibly handle another rejection? There might be lots of times she could be tough, but this was one area where she had become a raw nerve ending. This was one risk she didn’t know if she could take.

  He kissed her neck again, lightly, then lowered his arms. “I’m sorry, but if I don’t get that coffee, I’ll ruin it.”

  As quickly as that, the bubble burst completely. She remained frozen at the window, torn between relief and disappointment. Then she simultaneously realized two things, and they swept through her like a calming breeze.

  She hadn’t responded to his advance. Not in any way that he could tell. So she hadn’t encouraged him to go further. He might have taken that wrong.

  Or perhaps he was long past the stage of acting like a randy teen in the backseat of a car. Given the calm and serenity she had initially sensed in him, it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t rush into anything, but would take his time to see how matters went. What they used to call courtship, in the days before people started falling into bed together on the first date. Old-fashioned, but she discovered she liked the idea. Time to test the waters. Moving slowly. Finding out if things were right. Avoiding a heart-wrenching crash.

  Relieved, she was able to turn and look at him with a smile. This time when heat flickered in his gaze, she almost believed it was real.

  “Looks like it’s going to be a lazy day,” he remarked as he fed them scrambled eggs and some slightly browned toast.

  “Do you have to go out?”

  “I’m overdue for a day off. I don’t usually mind riding around in the gloom and rain, but today I may just stay tucked in. You can’t paint in here, can you?”

  “Not well. I really need the light.”

  “Oil lamps aren’t going to cut it.” He pushed his clean plate to one side. “I think we have a jigsaw puzzle or two tucked somewhere. But first I need to go look after Dusty.”

  “Does he mind the rain?”

  “Not a bit.” Craig grinned. “He’s waterproof. But his dry feed isn’t. I need to make sure it didn’t get rained on overnight. I’ll be right back.”

  Sky decided to take the opportunity to step outside with her camera. Rarely at home did she see clouds sailing as low as they seemed to at this altitude. They almost appeared close enough to touch.

  The day had grown markedly cooler, not that it ever felt hot to her here, but the damp combined with the dropping temperature made her feel like a cozy day inside that tiny cabin beside the fire would be perfect.

  She snapped the clouds as they raced past, appearing to graze the treetops. It created the sense that if she just climbed a little higher she might look down on them as if she were in an airplane.

  Walking around the corner, she also took pictures of Craig and Dusty. He didn’t wear his uniform today, but instead jeans and a thick flannel shirt. Only his felt Stetson remained.

  She had no idea what she might do with these pictures, but she loved watching Craig with Dusty, the way they’d put their heads together as if communing, the way Dusty would nudge Craig and make him laugh. True companions, she thought, painted against a forest gone almost black in this light, with the deep gray of the clouds overhead.

/>   Craig put some more feed in the bin beneath an overhang and added some water to the trough. Dusty nudged him again as if telling him to hurry, and the instant Craig stepped back, Dusty started to eat.

  “I guess he was hungry,” she said as Craig came out of the corral. He looked tranquil again, as if he’d shed every possible worry and felt content with life just as it was. She envied that, especially since she found contentment only when lost in her art.

  “That’s what he’d like me to believe, anyway,” Craig answered.

  “You really think he can reason that much?”

  He lifted a brow. “I can tell you haven’t spent much time with horses. Believe me, they think, they reason and I’ve even seen them lie.”

  “How in the world can a horse lie?”

  “You’d be surprised. Take the time he got a stone bruise. A couple of hours later he was limping on the wrong foot. I checked it three times. No new injury, but he wasn’t going to let up his demands for sympathy.”

  She laughed, but the sound seemed deadened by the woods around. Pivoting, she snapped some more photos at random, just for something to do. Her hands wanted to be doing something entirely different.

  All of a sudden a push on her back caused her to stumble forward a step.

  “Dusty,” Craig said disapprovingly. “Leave the lady alone.”

  She swung around and saw Dusty at the rail, only inches away. He hadn’t shown interest in her before. “Why’d he do that?”

  “I think he’s decided he wants your attention.”

  This close, she realized how large that head was. And what big teeth he had. The refrain from Little Red Riding Hood came back to her. “Um, what do I do?”

  “Step a little to one side. They don’t have the best frontal vision, so you don’t want to startle him. Then reach out and pat his neck. Don’t touch his head. Not until you’re friends.”

  She followed directions, then reached out slowly. Dusty regarded her from one very large brown eye, but didn’t sidle away. She patted his neck tentatively and he nickered.

  “He won’t break,” Craig said. “Pat more firmly.”