Perfect Wyoming Complete Collection: Special Agent's Perfect Cover ; Rancher's Perfect Baby Rescue ; A Daughter's Perfect Secret ; Lawman's Perfect Surrender ; The Perfect Outsider ; Mercenary's Perfect Mission

by Marie Ferrarella

  “I have a small apartment in Portland,” she said quietly. “It’s my base at the moment, but I’m never there, Jesse—”

  “Let my ranch be your base, temporarily. Baby steps.”

  She felt blood draining from her head. She felt hot. Anxiety, she thought. She was having a panic attack.

  “I need to go.”

  “Sit down, June,” he said firmly, taking her hands and leading her back to the bed. He seated himself beside her.

  “Listen to me, and don’t take this the wrong way. Don’t say anything, either. I just want you to think about what I’m going to say.” He inhaled deeply.

  “You’re trapped, June, not so much by your fight against cults, but by your notion that fighting them can change something about the past—that it can make right what happened to your husband and son.”

  “They’re part of me,” she said quietly. “Fighting the evil of cults is part of me, too, now.”

  “And it always will be. All of us are composites of our past experience. Our pasts shape us, make us who we are. But you can’t change the past.”

  “I can give it meaning.”

  “You have.”

  “And where I wasn’t able to save Matt and Aiden, I’m saving others. They didn’t die in vain.”

  “I know. But you’re not living, either, June. You’re like an addict, obsessed with this fight, needing more and more, and if you don’t stop, it’s going to kill you. Even Rafe said so.”

  Anger mushroomed in her chest. “This is ridiculous,” she said, trying to get up, but he held her back.

  “Let me go, Jesse,” she warned.

  “You need balance,” he countered, features stern, eyes unyielding. “And you need rest. Now.”

  “Who in hell are you to talk, anyway! Look at you—haunted by your own demons for something you never even did, for closure you can’t have.”

  Hurt flashed through his face and she hated herself even as the words came out of her mouth, but she was unable to stop.

  “You couldn’t even get that DNA test because then you’d have to face the truth.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “I learned something from losing my memory, June,” he said very quietly, his voice thick. “For a short while I was forced to live entirely in the moment, and in that moment, I allowed myself to fall in love with you.” He paused, his gaze tunneling into hers, intense. “I think you allowed yourself to drop into that moment with me. I think you do care. And I’m not going to let you throw this away now.”

  Her throat closed in on itself. Panic flared afresh. With it came a kind of pounding thrill, an undertow of exhilaration. He’d said he loved her.

  Could she do it?

  She glanced at the clock on the bedside table and tensed.

  “Time is running out, Jesse. I can’t think about the future now. I need to think about how to get Hannah and Michael out. I’m also due for a paramedic shift this afternoon. If I don’t show, Samuel and Fargo are going to tie me with the missing henchmen. They’re going to take a deeper look at Hannah. Something’s going to give.”

  He swore softly. “You’re like a pit bull on adrenaline, June. You can’t even think anymore, can you? This is going to kill you, and you don’t care, do you?”

  June sucked in a chestful of air, and it hit her—Jesse was right, she hadn’t cared. She knew she was on a one-way track until the end, and deep down in her subconscious maybe she wanted it to kill her. Because she had nothing else.

  Now there was Jesse.

  Now she did care.

  She glanced slowly up into his eyes, and her heart wrenched at what she saw there. June bit her lip, struggling to hold down the huge painful and sudden surge of emotion burning in her chest. She reached down, felt Eager’s velvet head, thought of wilderness and mountains and endless land. Tears pooled in her eyes. It was all she and Matt had ever dreamed of.

  And now Jesse was offering it to her. He was offering her a second chance. He was trying to pull her back from the brink. And she was too scared to let him. He was right there, too. Because she was afraid to stop.

  She was holding on to her guilt and her past as a way of escaping pain, as a way of fending off emotion, love. It was fear that was trapping her, not cults. Fear to feel—really feel—again. And she could see it now, through his eyes. Fear was at the root of it all—June Farrow, SAR worker, paramedic, so brave in the woods, so capable, so independent…and all she was, truly, deep down, was weak, alone. Afraid.

  Jesse had cracked something in her open. And it was bleeding out.

  “I promise,” she said, very softly, “that I will rest after I’ve got Hannah out. Let me tie this job off, Jesse. If something happens to Hannah now, if I don’t do something to help her now, I’ll never be able to live with myself. I can get Michael out, too—he works with Hannah. She has a shift with him at the warehouse today.” She paused. “We can get them both, Jesse. Help me do this one last thing, and I will help you honor your promise to Annie.”

  Emotion pooled in his eyes and twisted raw through his rugged features. He cupped her face, firmly, in his hands.

  “Then will you at least just think about my proposal?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “I love you, June,” he said, voice thick. And he kissed her, so tenderly, caringly, that she felt she was melting from the inside out, becoming fluid, one with him. And for a moment June wanted time to stand still, for him to hold her forever. She wanted, just for a while, to be cared for. To lean on him. And to be a team. It struck her then—she could have this. Possibly forever. If she was brave enough to reach out and take the hand he was offering to her.

  * * *

  While Jesse went to find some dry gear, June braided her hair in front of the mirror. Her arm was stiffening, and the pain was uncomfortable, but she knew her medicine and the wound wasn’t going to kill her. She noted the deep black circles under her eyes, the contrasting pallor of her complexion. She’d lost weight, too—how had she not noticed that?

  June realized with a start that she actually looked fragile, ill. Had she been so blind to herself as not to see? Had she been similarly blind to what was driving her into the ground?

  She glanced down at the family photo of her, Matt, Aiden and their old yellow Lab, and a warmth filled June, an acceptance. She studied Matt’s features, and Aiden’s; the way they seemed so close, yet so independent; the way Matt had his arm over her shoulders. And June allowed all the good memories to come, to wash over her until she felt Eager nudge against her leg. Then she slipped off her wedding band, opened a small box on the dresser and removed a chain.

  June slid the ring onto the chain and fastened it around her neck. The metal was warm on her skin. She clasped her hand over it.

  Matt would want her to have a life. Maybe it really was time to move on—to let go of the bad memories, hold on to the good. To live in the present and dream of a future.

  * * *

  Samuel put down the phone after speaking to Mayor Rufus Kittridge. He leaned slowly back into his leather chair, trying to hold on to a measure of calm as he mulled over what Rufus had just told him.

  Two of his henchmen, Lumpy Smithers and Harvey Daniels, had not returned after making apparent radio contact with Molly Rigg on the west flank where Lacy Matthews had vanished, and where the mystery mountain man had shot Jason Barnes.

  Samuel chewed on several possible scenarios. The one that concerned him most was that Smithers and Daniels had fallen into the hands of Agent Hawk Bledsoe. Samuel knew how choked Lumpy was over the death of Jason Barnes. Lumpy could become a problem if offered a plea bargain by the feds. But in that event it would be Rufus who went down, not Samuel.

  Still, if the good citizens of Cold Plains—his flock—learne
d that their kindly mayor was possibly a violent and dangerous man who killed any Devotees who attempted to escape, it was going to make things very complicated for Samuel. It could even signal the beginning of the end. Rage surged suddenly through him and he lurched to his feet and paced his office.

  The more he’d thought about it, the more he’d begun to realize that vulnerable Devotees among his flock had first begun to “disappear” shortly after Mia Finn—Agent Bledsoe’s new sister-in-law—had “defected” and apparently undergone deprogramming.

  Samuel’s thoughts turned again to the stranger in the woods who had helped Lacy escape.

  Who was he?

  His mind went to how June Farrow and her dog had found Lacy’s kid’s shoe on the opposite side of the mountain, miles away from where Smithers and Barnes had seen her fleeing in the dark. The image of June with that newcomer—Jesse Marlboro—sifted into Samuel’s mind. A cold, sinister suspicion began to unfurl in him.

  He grabbed the phone on his desk and dialed Police Chief Bo Fargo.

  “Fargo, when did June Farrow first arrive in town?”

  “Early April, I think.”

  “When did the first Devotee disappear into a rumored safe-house program?”

  Samuel could hear the sound of flicking paper—presumably Fargo looking something up.

  “Actually, they started disappearing shortly after June Farrow’s arrival in Cold Plains.”

  Samuel picked up a pencil, held it tight in his hand, his vision darkening. “She saw that paramedic job in the new paper—that’s what brought her here?”

  “Correct.”

  His hand fisted around the pencil. The old-fashioned clock on his paneled wall ticked. It was almost 9:00 a.m. “And you didn’t notice these parallels before?”

  Fargo cleared his throat. “June Farrow helped on the searches for the missing Devotees. There was no reason for mistrust.”

  Several beats of silence hung between them. Then Fargo said, “But recently, she has been acting out of character. She’s been going over to Little Gulch for things she should be able to access here, like a vet, and then to pick up that Jesse Marlboro character she apparently used to date.”

  Rage peaked inside Samuel—he was surrounded by imbeciles.

  “Check her out,” he said very calmly. “See if her background story ties up. And take a deeper look at her landlady, Hannah Mendes. Also, look into the story behind this Jesse Marlboro, find out where Mia Finn went for deprogramming.”

  “You think June Farrow is part of the underground evacuation program?”

  “That, Fargo, is your goddamn job!”

  Samuel put the phone down and swore. Then he took a slow, deep breath—showing anger implied weakness. He must not display weakness. He was God to these people.

  But the more Samuel considered it, the more it made sense for June Farrow to be the insider. The mole. The traitor. Stealing away members of his flock. The woman trying to personally undermine him.

  A bitter and murderous rage blossomed through his chest. June Farrow was his enemy and he wanted her gone. Now.

  * * *

  Concern showed in Hannah Mendes’s keen gray eyes as she opened her door to Jesse and June. “What’s going on—what’s happened?”

  Jesse saw that Hannah’s silver hair was long and tied smoothly back from a tanned and angular face. Even in her seventies Hannah was clearly an attractive woman with strong features and a slender body.

  “We need to kill the evacuation program, Hannah,” June said as she and Jesse entered Hannah’s hallway.

  “What do you mean?” Hannah said, pulling her sweater closer around her body.

  “Two henchmen attacked the safe house last night. We had a mole inside, Molly Rigg. She led the attackers in via radio.”

  “Oh, my goodness.” Hannah paled as her veined hand went to her chest. “Is everyone all right?”

  “We’re all fine—but things are going to blow. We need to pull you out, now.”

  “Come into the kitchen,” Hannah said, leading the way. “I’m going to put the coffee on while you tell me everything.”

  “Agent Hawk Bledsoe and his team have Lumpy and Molly in custody, and it looks as though Hawk will soon be arresting Rufus Kittridge. He’s apparently one of Samuel’s lead henchmen, along with Monica Pearl.”

  “Are you serious?” Hannah hesitated, coffeepot in hand.

  “Dead serious,” June said, seating herself at the big wooden table in the middle of the warm and generously sized kitchen.

  “I never pegged Rufus or Monica for being killers,” Hannah said quietly. She put the pot on and took mugs from the cupboard. She moved with a certain elegance and grace, thought Jesse. And for a startling moment he could imagine June looking like Hannah at that age. The unbidden thought fueled the fire burning in him to have her with him forever. He glanced at June.

  She caught his eyes in return. A moment passed between them. Hannah saw, and stilled briefly before busying herself with teaspoons and cream and sugar.

  While Hannah poured the coffee, June told her who Jesse really was, and how he’d come to Cold Plains to free his brother-in-law.

  “I know Mickey,” Hannah said, seating herself across from them. “He’s a dear boy—too vulnerable, too easily manipulated. I’ve been wanting to get him out for a while.”

  “Do you think we’ll have a problem convincing him to leave, Hannah?” Jesse said.

  Hannah pursed her lips. “He’s not inclined to violence, if that’s what you mean—not an angry bone in that boy’s body. But he might be fearful and raise the alarm.”

  “I’ll be ready to use force as an intervention if I have to,” Jesse said. “But I don’t want to. If you can help smooth my way with him, I’d be eternally grateful, Hannah.”

  Hannah nodded, glanced at June. “And you want to do this today?”

  June leaned forward. “We have to move today, Hannah. And we have to get you out today, as well. The evacuation program has become far too dangerous now.”

  “Oh, June, I can’t just leave. There will still be people who need me, who need to escape Samuel, especially if things start to go off the rails now that Hawk is closing in.”

  “Hannah, you’re not going to help anyone dead.”

  She set her mug slowly onto the table. “I don’t run, June.” She shot Jesse a glance, a hint of reproach in her keen gray eyes, as if he was somehow responsible for the decision to kill the evacuation program. As if he’d swayed June in some way. “Nor do you run, June,” she said.

  “I do, Hannah,” June said quietly. “I’ve been running a long time.” June reached for Jesse’s hand and covered it with her own as she caught his eyes. “It’s time I stopped running now and faced my fears. Faced change.”

  His heart almost burst.

  “Besides, Hawk and his FBI team are closing in. It’s not going to be long now and this will be over.”

  Hannah shook her head, her eyes sad. “My heart is in these mountains, June, in this valley. I grew up on this ranch. I buried my husband here. I cannot just up and leave. Where would I go?”

  “The cave house is still safe, for now,” June said.

  “And for how long, if what you say is true? And I’m not as confident as you that Samuel is going down without a very long fight, yet. Where would I go in the interim? I have nowhere.”

  “My place.” The words came out of Jesse’s mouth before he even thought them through.

  June and Hannah both looked at him.

  He cleared his throat. “I have a ranch in the Wind River foothills, Hannah. You’ll love it—all the mountains and space you could ever need. I’ve got guest cottages, horses. You could stay there for as long as it takes for the feds to wind things up with Samu
el here.”

  Hannah stared at him. And June’s eyes said it all—thank you. The affection he felt coming from her made his heart swell.

  “Do it, Hannah,” June said, leaning forward. “Go pack a bag with the essentials, now. Give it to Jesse. He’ll keep it with him in my truck after he’s dropped me off at the Urgent Care Center for my ambulance shift later today, then he’ll immediately drive out and park near the warehouse. You go to work as normal. Then at about 3:30 p.m., shortly after I’ve started my shift, you get yourself near Michael and a telephone, and you develop serious chest pains.”

  “I don’t know, June, that’s like tempting the fates. I don’t like to tempt the fates.”

  “It’s about getting yourself and Michael to safety, Hannah. Samuel’s deception must be fought with deception of its own. It’s what we do, remember?”

  Hannah inhaled deeply. “What then?”

  “You ask Michael to call 9-1-1. Dispatch will send the call straight through to me. The dispatcher will keep Michael on the line, near you, which is what we want. I’ll bring the ambulance around to the warehouse door at the back.”

  “Aren’t there two of you in the ambulance?” Hannah said.

  June nodded. “Ted is on call with me this afternoon. He’ll be driving. The whole thing will seem very real to him, Hannah, given your age. No offense.”

  “None taken.” Hannah smiled. “I think.”

  “Chest pains are funny things,” June said. “Not to be taken lightly even if there is no other physical sign of distress, so I’ll get out the gurney, insist you come to the hospital for a checkup. You hang on to Michael’s hand, tell him you need him to come in the ambulance for moral support.”

  “That could work,” said Hannah. “Mickey would bend over backward to help anyone, and he does have a soft spot for me—we’ve built a bond.”

  “So he’ll trust you. That’s good. Meanwhile, Jesse will be waiting outside the building with my truck, parked right near the delivery entrance where we’ll back the ambulance up. If anyone asks, he’ll say he’s come to pick up a check from you for ranch supplies.”