by D'Ann Lindun
A shout drew her attention to Shane. He held up a large trout. “Got one.”
She gave him a thumbs-up. “Dinner?”
“After I catch a few more,” he replied and tossed his line back into the water.
~*~
By early evening, they had caught their limit. While Shane cleaned the rainbow trout, Isabella stacked firewood in the rock ring and lit a fire. Her gaze followed the drifting smoke toward the disappearing sun turning the peaks a pale pink and the forest to nearly black.
Isabella ducked into the tent to grab a dark green CSU hoodie. It lay on top of the two sleeping bags against the wall. A hot flush rushed through her. She wasn’t hungry for fish—she wanted something else altogether: Shane.
The scent of grilling trout drew her attention and she left the tent.
He had cut spring potatoes into slices and laid them across a small screen, alongside two ears of corn and the trout. Plastic bowls held a green salad, vinaigrette dressing and cut-up chunks of mango and pineapple. Isabella’s stomach rumbled. They had not taken time to eat lunch and she realized she was famished.
“Smells good.”
Shane glanced up from where he knelt next to the fire with a smile. “You hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Good. This is going to be ready in a few minutes. I have our plates over here.” He stood to retrieve the tin dishes from a small box.
“Did you camp a lot with Ellie?” she asked impulsively.
His hand on the plates froze. “Yeah. It was her favorite thing to do. I loved it, too, but quit going after her death.”
“Are you having a good time with me?”
“I am.” He laid the plates on a rock and turned to look at her. “Why do you ask?”
She sucked in a deep breath and met his eyes. She had to know if he had feelings for her. “Are you wishing your late wife was here instead of me?”
“You’re two different people,” he said. “I can’t compare you to her.”
A knot formed in her belly. “Because I don’t measure up to her memory?”
“What? No. Of course not.” He set down the plates. “What’s this about, Isabella?”
Time to suck it up, buttercup. She stepped around the fire and placed a palm on his chest. “I didn’t bring you up here just to fish and to camp. I had other motives.”
“Such as?”
“I’d like to spend the night together.” She waited a heartbeat. “I’d like to spend a lot of nights together. All of them.”
“I can’t.” He sounded strangled.
Stung, she removed her hand. “I see.”
As she began to turn away, he grabbed her wrist. “No, you don’t understand. I would love nothing more than to be with you. For tonight and forever, but I can’t risk it.”
Blinking back tears, she stared up at him. “Risk what?”
“Losing you. I can’t take that chance.” He shook his head. “I can’t put another woman I love in the line of fire. Losing Ellie almost killed me. If I lost you too—”
“You love me?” she whispered.
“Almost from the first day I saw you.” He released her wrist and took her hand. “But it doesn’t matter because my job is dangerous to anyone I love. I can’t ask you to put your life in peril for me.”
“I’m volunteering.” She reached for his other hand. “Don’t you get it? I’m willing to take any risk to be with you. Because you’re worth it. We’re worth it.”
“Ellie thought that, too, and look what happened to her.” Despair filled his voice.
Isabella let go of his hands and placed both palms on his cheeks. “What happened to her was tragic. But would she want you to be alone for the rest of your life? Suffering? Beating yourself up like this? Or would she want you to go on, and honor her memory by living life to the fullest? Taking another chance on love?” She waited, praying he would hear her.
“She would want me to be happy,” he said finally. “But—”
Placing two fingers over his lips, she silenced him. “You already proved that you’ll be there for me if I need you. You saved me from Reuben. I can’t ask more than that from you.”
He grasped her hand again and she felt the shudder run through him. “But if I hadn’t—”
“You did.” She wrapped her arms around his middle and pressed her cheek to his beating heart. “I’m alive, Shane. And I love you. Take what I’m offering. A chance at happiness. You more than anyone know that life is short. Don’t squander it.”
An anguished sound ripped out of him. “Isabella—”
She tipped her head back and looked into his misty eyes. “What?”
“I want that, more than anything. To love you, and to make a life with you.”
“Me, too,” she said softly. “Let’s start tonight.” Taking his hand, she led him inside the tent.
The sleeping bags were still zipped together from the last they had been intimate. They spread them across the floor and used the quilts Isabella had brought for covers. There would be no freezing tonight.
With her gaze locked on Shane’s, Isabella crawled across their bed. When she reached him, she stopped and dropped her hands to the hem of her hoodie. While he watched, she slipped it over her head and dropped it beside her.
Piece by piece, she removed her clothing and boots, until she only wore a bra and panties. “Your turn, Marshal.”
With a smile curving his lips, he unbuckled his holster and laid the gun safely aside before tackling the buttons on his western shirt. He let it hang open and Isabella’s gaze locked on the enticing trail of dark hair that led from between his nipples to under the waistband of his jeans. Her hands itched to help him, to make him hurry, as he undid his buckle, then the top snap of his jeans.
She couldn’t wait any longer and helped him out of the shirt while he wiggled out of his jeans. She laid back and watched while he stood and kicked off his boots and jeans pooled around them. He was already erect and she smiled in anticipation as he sheathed himself with a condom he’d taken from his hip pocket. From lovemaking to the dangers his life presented, he would always keep her safe.
Laying over her, he covered her lips with his. Eagerly, she took his tongue into her mouth, matching his movements. His hips rose and the tip of his cock brushed her sensitive clit. She was wet, ready. He plunged into her with one hard thrust and she gasped.
He froze.
Frightened he’d changed his mind, she looked into his damp eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I love you, Isabella.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Forever.”
~The End~
Black Mountain Justice
BLACK MOUNTAIN JUSTICE
As the daughter of a convicted felon, Mesa McCurdy is used to the cold shoulder. Despite her troubles, she’s built a thriving bed and breakfast. When two convicts break out of a transport van and head straight for Mesa’s farm, she must put her trust in a U.S. Deputy Marshal sent to protect her. But will he steal her heart?
U.S. Deputy Marshal Kade Cahill is sent to Black Mountain, Colorado, to corral a convict on the loose and protect a witness. Brought up in an abusive family, Kade has no interest in a wife or children. But, as he safeguards the beautiful brunette his resolve is tested.
DEDICATION
A very special thank you to Margaret Vickers who named this book!
CHAPTER ONE
Mesa McCurdy took one last glance around the sparkling interior of her two-story farm house and smiled. Everything looked perfect for her incoming guests—gleaming hardwood floors, checked blue and white couches made for relaxing, reading or just sipping hot chocolate, rag rugs scattered in front of the fireplace—all meant for comfort.
Business had been slow this year, but her beloved old inn now had a few bookings. Skiers had finally begun making reservations as soon as word got out of the big snowstorm now covering the Colorado Rockies. The first guests of the season would be here in the morning.
She had an important chore to do before her visitors arrived. Her horses needed a quick tune-up before morning because one of the special features of her B&B was old-fashioned sleigh rides. In her mudroom, she pulled on a ski suit, boots and gloves.
Mesa let herself out the garage doors and stood for a minute taking in the scene greeting her. Falling snow covered the pine trees, the pasture and the barn. Water gurgled in the crisp air as she crossed the arched bridge over the creek. She loved this place. It should be full at this time of year, not empty.
News of two killers in the area canceled all her bookings. One of the criminals, Reuben Gonzalez, had been shot and killed by a federal marshal, but the other was still on the loose, scaring away prospective guests. With business being slow, she was in danger of failing to make her mortgage. People might still whisper that she had some of her father’s ill-gotten money, but it wasn’t true. Everything she had she’d earned herself. Her heart constricted as she thought of losing it all.
Shaking off her worries, she entered the barn, and the scents of hay, horses and leather greeted her nose. Some people might not like those smells, but she always had. They reminded Mesa of her father, who had used teams of draft horses to farm their small acreage.
Bo and Bob, her team, snorted nervously as she approached. Odd. The Belgians usually had their noses stuck out of their stalls, begging for treats. Even Kip, her rescue pony, hid in the back corner of his stall. The two barn cats were nowhere in sight either. Normally, they wound their way around Mesa’s ankles as she tried to work.
The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she looked around for anything out of order. Nothing suspicious. What then had upset her animals? Probably just a fox or a bobcat in the trees.
She shrugged off her unease and led the big geldings to the center aisle where Bo snorted, wide-eyed. Bob danced around, too, as Mesa harnessed them. Usually they dozed while she worked.
Leading them outside, Mesa backed the horses to the sleigh, hitched them up and climbed into the driver’s seat. She flipped the lines. “Bob. Bo. Get up.”
The geldings started forward with a small lunge. As soon as the sleigh runners slid smoothly across the new snow, Mesa settled back to enjoy the ride. She’d already plowed the lane, and the horses had no problem pulling the sleigh in fresh powder. Bells attached to the harness rang in the clear air—a melody Mesa usually loved. Today, the chiming sounded ominous. Telling herself she was just being silly, she shook off her strange feelings.
Low-lying clouds and falling snow covered the valley, making it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of the sleigh. The temperature hovered around freezing, and she pulled a green plaid blanket tight over her legs and feet.
Bob and Bo stopped abruptly, snorting, their nostrils blowing out lacy plumes of air. Both had their ears pricked forward, focusing on something in the trail ahead. Mesa flicked the driving lines and clicked at them, but the horses refused to move forward.
Puzzled by their odd behavior, Mesa set the brake and looped the thick leather lines around the rail before climbing off the sleigh. After walking in front of the horses, she stopped and stared. A lump under the snow looked almost human.
No way!
Cautiously, she tip-toed forward.
“Hello?” She felt silly talking to a mound of snow.
Silence.
A gust of wind sent a shiver racing up and down her spine. Or maybe it was just unease making her skin all tingly and tight. Kneeling, she brushed away some of the white powder to expose a man’s face with eyes and mouth open in an eerie grimace. No wonder the geldings had stopped in their tracks.
She gasped and staggered back.
Digging her cell phone out of her pocket with shaking hands, Mesa dialed 911. “Help! I’ve found a frozen body.”
The operator took the details and told her to stay with the icy corpse until the sheriff arrived.
Shivers raked across her skin as Mesa returned to the sleigh, climbed aboard and wrapped her shaking legs with the green plaid blanket. The geldings snorted and jigged as they waited. Not comforting. She bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling.
A twig snapped, and she jumped.
~*~
US Deputy Marshal Kade Cahill listened as his boss, Chief Deputy Winston Bustamante, updated him on a case.
“About a month ago, two convicts, Reuben Gonzalez and Waydell Spencer, were being transported from Caňon City to Supermax when they overpowered their guards and killed them. Gonzalez headed home, where he took his ex-wife hostage. US Deputy Marshal Shane Catlin killed him in a shootout. The second escapee Waydell Spencer has never been found. This morning, an ex-cellmate of Spencer was found dead in Black Mountain, Colorado, shot in the back of the head.”
“You think Spencer’s resurfaced?” Kade asked.
“It’s possible he found someone to help him lay low until he felt safe enough to come out of hiding,” the Chief said.
Kade shifted. “Why kill the guy now?”
The Chief smiled grimly. “The dead man was found in the driveway of Mesa McCurdy, the daughter of one of the robbers associated with Reuben Gonzalez.”
Kade nodded in understanding. “Gonzalez must’ve bragged about the robbery to Spencer during the transport. Spencer hid out with a buddy until he heard about Gonzalez being shot, then he made plans to go after this girl to get the loot he’s sure she has. He knocked off his buddy because he doesn’t want to share.”
“That’s the theory,” the Chief said. “I want you to go to Black Mountain and see if you can get a line on Spencer.”
“Doesn’t Shane Catlin have connections there now?”
The Chief smiled. “Haven’t you heard? He’s on his honeymoon. They went to Hawaii.”
“I’ve been buried in the Price case,” Kade said. “Good for Shane. Anyone I know?”
“He married the woman I sent him to protect,” the Chief said. “Be careful, the same thing might happen to you.”
Kade laughed uneasily. The idea of marriage made him twitchy. “That isn’t happening to me.”
~*~
Winter had come to the Rockies, and Kade admired their beauty as he drove into the tiny town of Black Mountain. He’d grown up in a similar place, although in Montana, and he couldn’t wait to escape it. He hated how everyone knew everyone’s business. He especially detested that everyone knew his old man liked to get drunk and beat on him and his siblings but kept silent.
Shaking off the memory, he pulled over to check directions on his GPS. Mesa McCurdy ran a small B&B not far from the outskirts of town. After locating her home on the map, he drove that direction.
He spotted her address on a mailbox, but crime scene tape blowing in the wind gave away the place. He turned in the driveway and followed a plowed driveway to a two-story farmhouse set back among an orchard with pine trees surrounding it all. A waft of smoke rose from the chimney, rising into a cloudy sky. A light snow fell, lending a slightly spooky atmosphere to the scene.
He parked, walked along the shoveled path and rang the doorbell.
A figure moved beyond the lace curtained door and after a moment’s hesitation opened it. A pretty young woman eyed him suspiciously. “Hello? May I help you?”
“Miss McCurdy?” Kade flashed his badge. “US Deputy Kade Cahill. I need to ask you about what happened today.”
“I don’t know what I can tell you. Sheriff Blackmore already grilled me for hours.” She opened the door and led him toward the kitchen where she took a seat at the kitchen island. “Please sit.”
He took the seat opposite her and watched her with an appraising eye. Long, light reddish-brown hair in a fancy braid. Frightened green eyes. Shaking hands wrapped tightly around a mug. “Did you know the deceased man?”
Her troubled gaze met his. “No.”
“Never saw him before?”
“No,” she said levelly. “I never have.”
“Why would he come here?” Kade pressed.
She shrugged, t
he movement pulling her thermal tee tight over her small breasts. “I have no idea.”
Kade forced his attention back to business. He wasn’t surprised by her response. Mesa McCurdy had always claimed no knowledge of her father’s criminal activities, and there’d never been any proof otherwise. But in his experience, families of cons would go to any lengths to protect their loved ones. Lie. Cheat. It would take a lot more than a pair of big green eyes to convince him of her innocence.
“How well did you know Waydell Spencer?”
Her hand, halfway to her mouth with her cup, froze. “I didn’t.”
Although he’d been told she didn’t know the man who broke out of transport, Kade wanted to hear it from her mouth. “Did your father know him?”
“I don’t know.” She placed her cup on the table with a thud and narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m sure you’re aware I don’t communicate with my father, Marshal.”
He didn’t confirm, nor deny. “Is anything missing from your house?”
She nodded. “A few groceries. A quilt I kept on the living room sofa.”
“So he came inside,” Kade mused. “Took the risk of getting caught.”
“The dead man?”
“His partner.” Kade leaned forward. “Waydell Spencer.”
Her eyes grew enormous. “He’s here? Sheriff Blackmore didn’t tell me that.”
“Possibly. About month ago, Spencer and Reuben Gonzalez were being transported to Supermax when they somehow overpowered the guards assigned to drive them and escaped. Gonzalez made his way here and kidnapped his ex-wife.”
“I know all that. The prison alerted me,” she said. “But why would Spencer come back here? And why now?”
