by Cassie Miles
The last thing she wanted was pity. “I’m fine.”
“It’s okay to be nervous.”
“I told you. I’m doing just fine.”
“Whatever you say.” He drained his glass of lemonade, stood and picked up his hat. “I want you to know, it’s all right for you to call me any time.”
“If I run into any Red Fire situations, I’ll let you know.”
He stepped outside onto the porch and waited for her to join him. “The sheriff just hired a new guy who was in Iraq. He happens to be single. If you want to talk, he’d—”
“Whoa.” She held up her hand. “I never thought I’d see the day when Danny Laurence started playing match-maker.”
“That’s what happens when you get settled down. You want everybody else to pair up.”
“When I’m ready to jump into the singles pool, I’ll let you know.”
“Fair enough.”
“Thanks for coming over.” She gave him a warm smile. “Be careful, Danny.”
“You, too.”
She watched as he drove away in his police vehicle with the Douglas County logo on the side. Asking him to come here hadn’t given her any new information, except to confirm the identity of Jack Dalton. The real Jack Dalton was not the man who had showed up on her doorstep. Her Jack Dalton was actually Tony Perez. But he didn’t want to use that name. Because he’d changed? She wanted to believe that when Tony Perez agreed to testify, he abandoned his old life.
Her gaze wandered to the hillside where she’d last seen him. By now he’d be miles away from here.
She missed him.
For that matter, she also missed the real Jack Dalton. Without a handyman, patching the barn roof was going to be nearly impossible. Who cares? Did it really matter if her barn leaked? Earlier today, she’d thought so.
For the past weeks, she’d filled her waking hours with projects—cleaning, painting, doing chores and making repairs. Those jobs now seemed like wasted energy. Not like when she’d been talking to Jack, figuring out his identity. Tracking down a story made her feel vital and alive. At heart, she was a journalist. That was what she needed to be doing with the rest of her life.
Her decision was made. The time had come for her self-imposed seclusion to end. Looking across the road, she scanned the wide expanse of sagebrush and prairie grass that led to the rugged sweep of forested hillsides. A rich, beautiful landscape, but she didn’t belong here.
Her job was to follow the story. Packing a suitcase would take only a couple of minutes; she was accustomed to traveling light. She could be on her way in minutes, driving toward Denver International Airport, where she could catch the next flight to Chicago.
But what if Jack ran into trouble and came back to the cabin? She needed to stay, if only for twenty-four hours. As long as she was here, she might as well patch the barn roof.
She went back into the cabin and picked up her tool belt. Though she never locked her house when she was home, the recent threats emphasized the need for security. After she’d locked the front and back doors, she headed toward the barn.
The midday sun warmed her shoulders. Her life here was idyllic, but it wasn’t where she needed to be. Why had she doubted herself? It was so obvious that she was a reporter. What was she afraid of? Oh, let’s see. A million different things. Not that she was Baby Blue—a sissy. She’d always been brave, and living in a war zone had hardened her to the sight of blood and gore. She had faced unimaginable horror, and she’d learned to stifle her terror. But those fears never truly went away.
Though she’d never told anyone, she had experienced fits of uncontrolled sobbing, nightmares, even delusions. Once, she’d heard a helicopter passing overhead and panic overwhelmed her. She’d dropped to her knees and curled into a ball. Her mind wasn’t right; she wasn’t fit to be on the front line.
But she could still be a reporter; not every assignment required her to rush headlong into danger.
Inside the barn, she fastened the tool belt around her hips and looked up at the roof. One of the holes was so big that she could see daylight pouring through.
From the stall nearest the door, the bay mare snorted and pawed at the earthen floor.
“Oh, Lacy.” Caitlyn went toward the horse. “I’m sorry. We missed our morning ride. Maybe later, okay?”
Lacy tossed her head as though angry. When she looked sadly at the empty stall beside her, Caitlyn felt guilty. Poor Lacy had been left behind, locked in her stall and deprived of her morning exercise.
“All right,” Caitlyn said, “a short ride.”
She had just gotten the horse saddled when she looked out the front door of the barn and saw the black SUV approaching her driveway. Rojas was back.
Chapter Six
After Jack left Caitlyn’s cabin, he continued to discover more of his innate skills. Horseback riding wasn’t one of them. Every time he urged Fabio into a pace faster than a walk, Jack bounced around in the saddle like a broken marionette. How did cowboys do this all day? His ass was already sore.
Lucky for him, Fabio was a genius. The big palomino responded to his clumsy tugging on the reins with impressive intelligence as they wove through the pines and leafy shrubs in the thick forest. They found a creek where the horse could drink, and a couple of rock formations that could be used for hideouts.
After getting repeatedly poked in the arms by branches, Jack put on the sweatshirt Caitlyn had so thoughtfully packed for him. He hadn’t expected her help. Her kindness. Or her kiss. It meant something, that kiss. Beyond the pure animal satisfaction of holding a woman in his arms, he’d felt a stirring in his soul as though they were deeply connected. He had a bright fleeting memory of what it was like to be in love, but the thought quickly faded into the darker recesses of his mind.
There could never be anything significant between him and Caitlyn. If he survived the next four days and made it to the trial, he’d have a new life in witness protection. And it wouldn’t include her.
Looking up at the sky through scraggly branches, Jack noted the position of the sun and determined which way was north. This ability to get his bearings came from outdoor training in rugged, arid terrain. He remembered a desert. And an instructor who spoke only Spanish and—surprise, surprise—Jack was able to translate. He was bilingual. Another useful skill.
Also, he had a sharp comprehension of strategy. He knew that Rojas and his men were looking for him, as were the marshals at the safe house who had betrayed him. They might have access to advanced technology. Though Jack didn’t see or hear a chopper overhead, it was entirely possible that this whole area was under aerial surveillance. His plan was to stay under the cover of the trees until nightfall.
He headed northwest, roughly following the direction of the horse trailer he’d seen on the road to Caitlyn’s cabin. The logo on the side of that truck said: Circle L Ranch, Pinedale, Colorado. Locating the nearby population center could prove useful, and Fabio seemed to know where they were going. The big horse moved smoothly through the forest until they came to a ridge overlooking a meadow.
From this vantage point, Jack looked down on a small herd of fat black cattle, twenty-five or thirty head. As he watched, cowboys in a truck pulled up to a feeding area. Another ranch hand on a dirt bike joined them. None of these men were on horseback.
Jack patted Fabio’s neck beneath his flowing blond mane. “Don’t worry, buddy. A truck will never replace you. You’re too pretty.”
For a moment, he considered riding down and asking for shelter. On a ranch, there would be a number of places to hide. But he didn’t want to put these people in danger. If Rojas suspected they were helping him, he’d gun down every person on the ranch and probably shoot the cattle as well. Fear was how the cartel ran their business; violence was their methodology.
Had Mark Santoro been the same way? Jack had respected Mark. He liked him, but that didn’t mean either of them were upstanding citizens.
A clear thought unfurled inside his head.
No crime justifies taking the law into your own hands. He believed this principle. At the same time, he knew that he had violated it. He had performed an execution. The circumstance wasn’t clear, but Jack had killed an unarmed man.
He tugged on Fabio’s reins, and they went back into the forest, heading toward Caitlyn’s cabin. Thinking about Rojas made him worry. What if the thugs returned to her place? Gregorio Rojas was notorious for taking rash action. He lashed out violently. If he couldn’t find another lead, he might return to Caitlyn with the idea that he could make her talk. Even if she didn’t know anything. Even if she was innocent.
With Fabio tethered to a tree, Jack settled down to watch the cabin. An open space in a roughly triangular shape stretched downhill to her back door. The back of the barn was only a couple hundred yards away. Leaning against a sun-warmed boulder, he opened one of the bottled waters and ate a crunchy energy bar. A full meal would be nice. A rare steak with baked potato. Maybe a nice Chianti. And a cigar.
The memory of those rich flavors teased his palate. His mouth watered. The rest of his past was sketchy, but he knew what he wanted for his last meal. He inhaled the remembered fragrance of mellow tobacco. A Cuban cigar, of course.
When he saw the police vehicle arrive at Caitlyn’s cabin, he supposed this was the friend she kept talking about. Danny the deputy appeared to be a tall, good-looking guy. Standing on the porch, he gave her a hug that lasted a bit longer than a casual greeting. A boyfriend? Hopefully, she wouldn’t feel compelled to tell Danny Boy all about him. The last thing Jack needed was the local cops putting out an APB. There were enough people after him already.
Jack was disappointed to see Danny drive away by himself. If Caitlyn had gone with him, she’d be safe. At least, she’d have an armed cop at her side.
Alone, she was vulnerable.
He considered sneaking down the hill and telling her to come with him. Bad idea. With him, she’d be in danger for sure. Without him, she had a chance. Sit tight. This might all go away.
Caitlyn seemed to be getting back to her routine. She came out the back door carrying her tool belt. Her single-minded determination made him grin; nothing was going to stop her from patching that roof.
He almost relaxed. Then he saw the black SUV. They were driving too fast on the two-lane gravel road. Reckless. Dangerous.
He had to get Caitlyn out of there. He pushed himself to his feet and ran. Instinctively, he dodged and stooped, staying away from the open area, keeping his approach camouflaged.
The SIG was in his hand. He’d checked the clip and knew he had only four bullets. That should be enough. If he got to the rear of the barn, he’d be in range. First, he’d take out the big bodyguard, the guy who called himself Drew Kelso. Then, he’d shoot Rojas.
The SUV parked in her driveway. Four men and Rojas emerged. Five targets and only four bullets. Jack didn’t like the odds.
Kelso led the way. The bodyguard yanked his handgun from the shoulder holster as he stormed toward the cabin. He yelled, “Hey, bitch. Get out here.”
The others followed.
The fact that Caitlyn was in the barn might save her. If she moved fast enough, she could get away without having them notice.
Jack crouched at the edge of the trees. There was no cover between him and the back wall of the barn. He stared at the weathered wood. No back door. That would have been too easy.
Caitlyn came through the big door in the front. She was astride the bay mare and, for some reason, wearing her tool belt. If she rode toward the corral gate, it would bring her closer to Rojas. She wheeled the horse in the opposite direction—toward where he was hiding in the trees—and rode across the fenced corral. At the far end was a gate that opened into the field.
She rode straight at it, leaning forward in the saddle and moving fast. Her expertise in handling her mount was obvious, and he admired her skill.
Rojas and his men hadn’t spotted her. They were occupied with breaking into her cabin, yelling threats. Jack hoped they would keep up their posturing until she’d gotten safely away.
He sprinted down the rugged hill. When he got to the gate, he’d throw it open. And she’d ride through to safety. Caitlyn was close, almost there. Come on, baby, you can make it.
The shouting from the cabin changed in tone. Like hunting dogs on the chase, they’d seen their quarry and reacted. In front of the others, Kelso ran from her house toward the corral. Gunfire exploded in wild bursts.
Caitlyn stiffened in the saddle. She reined her horse. What the hell was she doing?
He reached the gate, unfastened the latch and threw it open. “Caitlyn,” he called to her. “This way. Hurry.”
She turned her head toward him. All the color had drained from her skin. Her mouth was open, gasping. Had she been hit?
At the other end of the corral, he saw the five men pour through the gate, waving their guns, yelling, shooting.
Jack wanted to return fire, but he only had four bullets. Every shot had to count.
Kelso stopped and spread his legs in a shooter’s stance. With both hands, he took aim.
Jack dropped to one knee, pointed the SIG and squeezed the trigger.
His bullet found its mark. Kelso roared in pain, clutched his thigh and toppled to the dirt inside the corral.
The men behind him stumbled to a halt. They’d thought they were dealing with an unarmed woman. Hadn’t expected to be in danger.
Taking advantage of their momentary confusion, Jack fired a second time. Again, he aimed for the legs. Another man screamed and fell.
The others were in retreat. The cowards didn’t know he had only two bullets left. He took advantage. Grabbing the reins on Caitlyn’s horse, he pulled her toward the open gate.
“Wait.” Her voice quavered. “Mount up behind me.”
He didn’t question her or argue. On horseback, their chances for escape were a hell of a lot better. As she scooted forward and out of the saddle, he stuck his toe into the stirrup and took her place.
Riding like this wouldn’t be easy. He would have preferred holding his ground and shooting, picking them off one by one. But he didn’t have the firepower. Jack dug in his heels, urging the horse forward. They made it through the gate.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Uphill,” he said. “Take cover in the trees.”
Behind his back, he heard another couple of shots. Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms around her. A screwdriver handle from her tool belt dug into his gut. He noticed that with every blast of gunfire, her body trembled.
They made it into the forest.
When he looked over his shoulder toward the barn, he saw Rojas, staring after them. Revenge was all he lived for. The bastard wouldn’t quit until Jack was dead. And now, Caitlyn was another object for his hatred.
Jack felt like hell. It was his fault that she was in danger. Because of him, her peaceful life was torn to shreds. This counted as one of the worst things he’d done in his life as Tony Perez or whoever he was.
“Where’s Fabio?” she asked.
“Up here. To the right.”
Still within earshot of the shouting from her cabin, they approached the tree where he’d tethered the horse. The big palomino nickered a greeting to the bay mare.
Jack dismounted and went to his horse while she readjusted her position. She reached down to the tool belt. “Should I take this off?”
“Keep it.” Some of those tools might be modified to use as weapons. “Never can tell when you might need a ratchet.”
“I think we should go to the Circle L.”
Though her voice was still shaky, the blush had returned to her cheeks. He didn’t know what had happened to her when the shooting started, but the intensity of her reaction gave him cause for worry. It was almost like she’d gone into shock.
“We can’t involve anyone else,” he explained. “If the people at the Circle L help us, they’ll be in as much danger as we are. Follow me.”
Dis
appearing in this vast wilderness wouldn’t be difficult, but hiding the horses presented a problem. Not only did they need to locate a cave big enough for Fabio and Lacy but they had to figure out a way to keep the animals quiet.
He turned to her and asked, “Do you have your car keys?”
“Why?”
“We might need to use your car.”
“The keys are in my pocket. It’s weird. I don’t usually lock my cabin. For some reason, I did.”
“Your instinct was right. The locked doors slowed down Rojas and his men. It gave you more time to escape.”
“Oh, damn,” she muttered. “I’ll bet they kicked in my door. That’s going to be a problem. You know, I’ve gone to a lot of trouble fixing up the place.”
Her attitude puzzled him. Earlier, she’d frozen in terror. Now, she seemed more concerned about property damage than the fact that she was running for her life. “A broken door is the least of your problems. Rojas and his men are more likely to burn your cabin to the ground.”
“That’s terrible. A wildfire would devastate miles of forest.” Her blue eyes snapped. “But I guess drug cartels aren’t real concerned about environmental damage.”
He couldn’t believe she was composed enough to make a joke. Every muscle in his body was tense. Their plodding progress along the path beside the creek was driving him crazy. He wanted to fly, but they couldn’t go faster without heading into open terrain. It was safer to stay within the shelter of the forest.
Single file, they ascended a ridge leading away from the creek. Direct sunlight hit Fabio’s mane. The golden horse glowed like a beacon. “We have to ditch the horses. What will they do if we dismount and continue on foot?”
“They’ll probably trot along behind us.”
Exactly what he was afraid of. They were approaching an area he’d explored earlier. A rugged granite cliff rose above the tree line. If they climbed those rocks, there were a number of crannies where they could hide until nightfall.
“I have an idea,” she said. “Fabio and Lacy don’t actually belong to me. They’re from the Circle L. If we get within sight of the ranch and shoo them away, they’ll probably trot home to their stable.”
