Escorted by the Ranger

by C. J. Miller

  The bank was covered with ice. He slid as if on ice skates, using the hiking stick to help keep his balance. When he reached a place where he could rest, he stopped to get a drink of water from his pack. He checked his compass again to ensure he was moving in the correct direction. Adjusting his position, he mentally redirected himself.

  He reached a clearing and a bow and arrows were set out. Picking up the bow, he slid an arrow into the quiver. A target dropped from a tree. He aimed and let the arrow fly. Direct hit. Six more targets appeared in the trees and he struck each one with an arrow. He thought of Marissa and the training he had given her at the firing range. She had been intent and interested in learning how to shoot a gun, but also in awe of its power. A remarkable, unique woman and he missed her.

  When no more targets appeared, he continued. He reached a cliff with a rope tied to a tree trunk and dangling over the side. Rapelling would put a lot pressure on his knee. That was likely the point. Connor West didn’t shy away from testing weaknesses. Checking that the rope was secure, he wrapped it around himself for safety and moved over the edge of the cliff. Halfway down, his knee burned, but didn’t give out. Reaching the bottom, his knee ached and Jack mustered his resolve. He imagined Marissa strutting in five-inch heels through the woods and was amused and distracted by the image. It couldn’t be comfortable to wear the shoes she did, but she never let it show.

  Jack checked the time. Two hours and forty minutes had passed. Despite the crispness in the air, beneath his jacket, his shirt was wet with sweat and he was beginning to feel fatigued. Twenty minutes remained to reach the end post. He wasn’t certain if he had covered enough ground. He ran along the trail, moving across a narrow bridge with wide gaps between the footboards and trying to avoid the iciest spots. His destination was ahead, the yellow roof half covered in snow visible through the trees. Relief passed through him. A little more hustle and he could make it.

  He wished Marissa was waiting at the end, but she was in New York. His desire to see her amplified his feelings for her. She was more than a client. Much more. It took being away from her to realize it.

  The last ten yards, Jack jogged. Though he was tired, hungry and thirsty, a sense of accomplishment carried him farther. Jack arrived at the yellow roofed house. He was breathing heavy, his muscles were tight and tiredness tugged at him.

  Oliver opened the front door. “One minute and forty seconds remaining.”

  Awareness of time passing had stayed with him, but Jack hadn’t obsessed about it.

  “I have lunch for you.” Oliver looked at his watch. “Or breakfast. A committee will review the footage of your work and we’ll be in touch in an hour.”

  Other physical tests had brought a level of stress. Though his career was riding on this, he wasn’t worried. He wanted to call Marissa and share the good news.

  Inside the training shack, the space was open with plush, brown couches set around an oversize stone fireplace. The hearth was stacked with wood and a fire blazed within. A cedar table extended almost the length of the building along the back wall. On his left was a small kitchen with a sink, refrigerator, cabinets, a cooktop and oven and a long row of closets.

  A brown bagged lunch with his name on it was at the head of the long table. Next to the lunch was his cell phone and other personal affects he had given Oliver. He had no signal. Disappointment streaked through him. He couldn’t call Marissa and all he could think about was talking to her and giving her the news. Whether he passed or not, and regardless of what criticism he would receive from the review committee, he had finished the course and he was still standing.

  * * *

  “Cleared for duty.”

  The words echoed through his mind. Oliver had delivered the news with a mask of indifference. Jack hadn’t expected anything else. Oliver would have likely spoken in the same unemotional tone if Jack had failed.

  On the return flight to New York, Jack wrestled with his thoughts. He wasn’t as happy to be approved to be back in the field as he had expected to be. It was his option to return immediately or when his assignment with Marissa was completed. Staying with Marissa was the obvious answer. Admitting that to himself meant admitting he was thinking about her in the long run and putting her ahead of his career goals. Knowing it, acknowledging it, made him feel like a fool.

  What he and Marissa had wouldn’t last. It had burned too hot and would flame itself out. Marissa’s world was in the bright lights of public attention. Jack couldn’t imagine anything less desirable.

  Believing his career had been over had devastated him. Now he wasn’t sure he wanted to go back to work for the West Company. Marissa was under his skin and in his head and that type of work would keep them apart. Never mind that she would be on his mind.

  He got off the plane. The walk down the long, quiet corridors of the airport gave him time to think. Though dozens of people milled around the baggage claim, his eyes fell on Marissa. Wearing dark sunglasses and a brown fedora hat and a trench coat, she was waiting for him. Though not the oddest outfit among the other travelers, her tall, slender build drew attention. Even with her face and hair covered, people watched.

  Happiness surged inside him and he approached, scarcely aware of the ground moving beneath his feet. “Hey, stranger.”

  She lightly punched his shoulder. “You didn’t call. Just the one text. I was worried. I wasn’t sure if you were coming back.” She looked at him from over her sunglasses.

  Guilt assailed him. “I should have called. A few of the locations had bad cell reception and when I was finished, I wanted to get home.” To her. To be with her. To catch up and talk about his trip and see how she was doing. Having that conversation over the phone meant missing something, something he needed.

  She set her hand on the side of his face. “I’ll forgive you. This time. But next time, more than one text message with the time of your flight, okay?” She kissed his cheek. The softness of her lips and the scent of her made his blood run hot.

  “I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” There would be a next time. In the future, they would be together. He hadn’t worked through the details, but he wanted her and he had a long track record of going after what he wanted.

  “Tell me how it went,” she said.

  The truth gave him pause. “I’m cleared for duty.”

  She broke into a huge smile. “That’s great. Why aren’t you more excited?”

  Mixed emotions about it, grateful his injury had healed, but not eager to start another mission. “Getting my head around it.”

  “While you get your head around it, I have a surprise for you. I booked a room at the five-star hotel a three-minute cab ride from here. Waiting for us are champagne and chocolates to celebrate.”

  She had anticipated he would pass. “What if I hadn’t been cleared for duty?” Jack asked.

  “Then it would have been a sympathy gift and I’d have let you eat all the chocolate,” Marissa said. She slid her hands to rest on his chest.

  “That’s thoughtful of you,” Jack said. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had made a personal, kind gesture like this. “I didn’t expect you to pick me up.”

  “I know. I wanted to,” Marissa said. “I have another surprise for you, too.”

  “What’s that?” Jack asked. He was unable to keep his voice completely steady.

  Marissa brought her mouth close to his ear. “I’m wearing only a thong under this.”

  He could think of nothing else, except what she might look like without the jacket. He saw his backpack slide onto the luggage carousel. Darting to it, he snagged it, then took her hand and together, they raced out of the airport.

  * * *

  Marissa’s soft hair was spread across his chest and his pillow. Jack touched the ends, enjoying the silkiness between his fingers and her delicate skin against his. Her eve
n breathing calmed him.

  The hotel room she had booked had dark gray walls and light gray wood floors. The bedspread was light blue and the curtains white, giving the room a hazy, lazy feel. It was smaller than the other hotel rooms they had stayed in and he liked the coziness. He hadn’t slept well the past few nights and this felt like a much-needed escape.

  He was reclined against the headboard, fluffy pillows behind his back and he hated to move and disturb her. Closing his eyes, a sensation akin to happiness washed over him.

  “Will you return to working overseas?” Marissa asked.

  He had thought she was asleep. The question was on his mind, too. Working for the West Company was a natural progression of his career. Military, special ops, a short stint at the CIA and then working for the most secretive, clandestine organization in America. While he had long thought about being a farmer like his father and grandfather, it was an about-face that he wasn’t sure he was ready to make. His siblings had stuck with the family business and at times, he missed them. He missed birthday parties and big holidays and spending Sundays together. Farming was what he would return to doing one day.

  Having Marissa in his life put his choices into a different perspective. And that scared him. To make a big step now, his life would change dramatically. He didn’t want to make the decision because of her, but she was an important factor in his life.

  “I haven’t decided what I’ll do next,” Jack said.

  “I’d miss you. Do you think you could only take jobs during the week? Or maybe only travel to cities with direct flights to New York?”

  Secret operations didn’t work that way. His work often took him to places barely accessible by foot and he couldn’t work Monday through Friday and be home in time for breakfast Saturday morning. “Not likely.”

  “You could take more assignments like this one.” She rolled over and traced her hand along his side.

  “The company I work for doesn’t have assignments like this one. This was a favor to Griffin and the assistance from the West Company has been a courtesy to me.”

  Her lower lip extended in a pout. “Then you’ll be gone months at a time.”

  He was becoming more averse to the idea, too. “Sometimes.”

  “Do you see me being a part of your life?” she asked.

  A heavy question, but one he was ready to answer. “Yes.” In what capacity, he couldn’t say. She would be bored by his constant absence. If he made a career change and returned to his roots, would she want to be a Missouri farmer’s wife?

  His thoughts stopped on a dime. Wife? A wife? He hadn’t considered being married in many years and he hadn’t known Marissa long enough to make that jump with her.

  Being a farmer in Springfield meant a lower-profile nightlife, no movie openings or Broadway plays. The more he thought about it, the more appealing it was to him. Spring festivals, local school fairs, community college plays and church picnics. Getting to know the people around him, becoming part of the fabric of the town and being a neighbor with Marissa at his side.

  The change was so dramatic, he needed to catch his breath.

  “I know you and being in your life is good. I’ll take it for now,” Marissa said, adjusting her pillow and moving her body to rest close to his.

  She had no idea where his thoughts had gone. If she had, she might run from the room and not look back. What she had in mind couldn’t be anything like what was in his.

  * * *

  Jack woke at seven in the morning to Marissa shaking his shoulder. “Jack, get up! Luke called. He and Zoe Ann are getting married today at the courthouse.”

  Jack sat up. The muscles in the back of his legs were tight. His thoughts jolted. “We haven’t secured the courthouse.”

  “Don’t worry about that. It’s a last-minute plan. We need to hurry.” Marissa was on her way to the shower. She looked over her shoulder and frowned at him. “Stop looking so worried. It’s a courthouse. It’s secure. And no one knows about this. Luke and Zoe Ann only called everyone this morning.”

  Jack rolled to his feet.

  “I need to stop home to pick out something to wear,” Marissa said.

  Jack snagged his phone from the night stand and typed a message to the West Company and the security team. They had a limited amount of time to get into gear.

  Two hours later, Jack and Marissa were waiting in a hallway at the courthouse with a few of Luke and Zoe Ann’s closest friends. Kit and Griffin couldn’t make the wedding in time and Luke and Zoe Ann didn’t want to postpone. Lenore was on her cell phone, arranging for a reception after the event at a nearby restaurant.

  Father Franklin came around the corner. The smile dropped from his face. Lenore abruptly stopped speaking and her and Father Franklin’s eyes met and held.

  Jack watched the exchange, not sure what he was seeing. He would have guessed bad blood, but animosity didn’t seem to burn between them.

  Lenore looked away first and continued to talk on her phone.

  “Did you see that?” Jack asked.

  Marissa was looking at her mother. “That weird exchange with Father Franklin? I saw it.”

  “Something going on between them?” Jack asked.

  Marissa slid her arm around his. “Father indicated at one point, he wished there was. But I saw something in that look from my mom, too. Maybe it’s not as one-sided as Father believes.”

  A clerk opened a brown wood door and stepped into the hallway. “Walker? Luke Walker? You’re next.”

  They filed into the small chapel and took their seats.

  * * *

  Marissa and Jack walked home from the restaurant hand in hand. The wedding, the fantastic dinner after and the champagne had her in a great mood.

  “They seem really happy. I think it will work,” Marissa said.

  “Luke and Zoe Ann?” Jack asked.

  “She’s music and poems and painting and he’s numbers and suits and spreadsheets. But they’re really cute together and she makes him happy,” Marissa said. She had seen her brother with girlfriends who were similar to him and they hadn’t made him smile the way Zoe Ann did. Like her and Jack: different but good. Or was she naïve to believe that they could find common ground?

  “You have a strange look on your face,” Jack said.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Marissa said. “About us. About your job. Luke and Zoe Ann are completely different people. They have almost nothing in common.”

  “I was surprised they decided to get married. They don’t have jobs or a place to live and the baby will be a lot of stress,” Jack said.

  He was quick to point out the negatives. “They are embarking on the adventure together,” Marissa said.

  “That’s one way to think about it,” Jack said.

  What Jack thought of Luke and Zoe Ann wasn’t her primary concern. “How do you think about us?”

  Jack stopped walking. Marissa met his gaze. She prepared herself for a bomb to drop. For him to say that he didn’t think about them. That they were not good together.

  “I’ve been waiting for the right time to talk to you about this. When I was away, I missed you. I wanted you with me.”

  Marissa threw herself into his arms and kissed him. They were the words she’d needed to hear.

  “Wait, as much as I appreciate your enthusiasm there’s more.”

  She dropped to her feet.

  “I think this could be something for real. But I want us to take it slow. I want us to spend time together.”

  She waited to give him time if he had more to say. After a long beat, she hugged him. Time together was what she wanted, too.

  * * *

  Ambrose’s latest set was outrageously fabulous. For this shoot, he had brought in live alligators. Two gators and their troop of handlers.r />
  “How will we get close to the gators?” Marissa asked.

  Ambrose laughed. “Two photo shoots. Their trainers will work with the gators and I’ll work with the models and we’ll edit the photos together.”

  A measure of relief struck her. “This is pretty cool. Another designer may have used stock photos.”

  Ambrose clasped his hands together. “My new line is absolutely over-the-top and I want the campaign to be that way, too.”

  Avery sprang to mind. She would love a set like this. The more daring, dramatic and adventurous the better. “Avery would love this.”

  Ambrose’s eyes went cold and flat. “I miss her, too.”

  “I can’t believe the police haven’t found her killer. They had so many pictures from the show. Someone has to know something.”

  Ambrose set his hand on his hip. “Why do you bring this up every time I see you? Do you think I had something to do with Avery’s death? That I’m the one covering things up?”

  “Ambrose, no, you’re just someone who understands how much I cared for Avery and how awful this is. The police aren’t making any progress and I don’t understand why.”

  Ambrose narrowed his eyes. “Avery and I were friends. I didn’t accuse you of trying to harm her, even though you and she had a falling out. I would appreciate you not making insinuations.”

  “No insinuations.” Had Ambrose snapped under the stress? He was getting entirely too upset about her comments, which weren’t intended to be critical of him. He was taking them like a personal affront.

  Ambrose looked away, his jaw tight. “I don’t know anything. If I did, I would have told the police one of the many, many times they’ve questioned me. And now you’re questioning me.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m trying to get to the bottom of this.”

  “You should do your job and let the police handle Avery’s murder investigation,” Ambrose said.

  He stalked away and regret carved into her. She should not have brought up Avery. Ambrose must find talking about her death deeply upsetting. This was a big day for Ambrose, the beginning of a new collection, and she was ruining it with her questions.