Frank spit out some coffee grounds and frowned. “Cougar, you figure?”
Spence shrugged. “Damn big cat if it is. I’m thinking we’ve got us a poachin’ problem. The fence along the west quadrant was cut—recent, too.”
Well, shit.
Frank sluiced his mug and threw the dregs onto the ground, watching as the dry topsoil gobbled it up. They didn’t need this. The ranch was floundering with the drought of the past few years and the hurricane last fall that wiped out half his herd.
“Put a crew together to fix the fence, then ride the quadrant for the next week or two. Hopefully, it’ll be enough to scare whoever off, and if not, we’ll be waiting.” His pulse spiked. He almost hoped they did show up. As a matter of fact… “I’ll stay here tonight. Someone can bring my bedroll and some food out?”
Spencer grinned around a cheek filled with snuff. “’Spected as much, already sent Dave. Your ma won’t be happy.”
No. She worried about him, especially since his father’s death and Cam’s disappearance. It was one of the main reasons why he’d given up his career, not that she’d asked that of him. It just hadn’t felt right leaving her here to manage alone.
“What about your city friend?” Spencer asked, handing a heated branding iron to the waiting cowboy.
Adam.
Frank hoped the interview planned with the truck driver turned up a location for Maggie. He’d already cleared some time away from the ranch in order to help with the search. His familiarity with Mexico—as a civilian, and on special ops—could get them places others could not.
“Send him out when he gets back. Tell him to plan on a midnight ride.” If rustlers were after their cattle, they’d probably show up tonight; they had clear skies and a full moon to guide their way.
“Yer the boss,” Spencer said, and spat tobacco juice into the fire where it sizzled and popped and sent up a plume of smoke. “There’s going to be some hunting tonight,” he cackled.
Yeah, and Frank was looking forward to it.
15
Adam’s heart jumped into his throat. He traded a stunned look with Amanda before snatching the phone from her hand.
“Maggie, dear God, is that really you?” After all this time, he didn’t trust what his ears were telling him. She’s alive, she’s really alive.
Static crackled, and then her sweet southern drawl came through loud and clear. “Well, it’s either me or we’re both delusional. You don’t know how glad I am to hear your voice, partner.”
Amanda rolled her hands, telling him without words to keep the conversation going. As if he’d do anything else. He nodded impatiently and cradled the phone, half afraid he’d hit the wrong damn button and hang up.
“Where are you? We’ve had teams searching—I’ve been searching—for months. Shoot me your coordinates and I’ll…,” he glanced up at Amanda’s grim expression, “…we’ll bring you home.”
“Ah, Roger that. Except, we’re not exactly sure where we are,” Maggie admitted. “All we know for certain is that there’s sand. Lots and lots of sand, interspersed with truckloads of militia just to keep things entertaining, over.”
That could be anywhere within a thousand miles of here. Talk about a needle in a haystack—or sand dune in this case.
“Stay on the line, Mags. We’re doing a trace.” Then, her words sunk in. “Militia? Honey, you don’t want to cross paths with them. Stay low until we get to you, okay?”
There was a click as she keyed the mike, then a quick exchange of words before Maggie came back online. “Too late. We’ve got casualties, over. Ran into a search team. They weren’t interested in chatting. Four dead. I repeat, four dead, copy.”
That’s his girl. She’d consistently scored high in combat training, one of the main reasons she’d been approved for this mission. He had so many questions; where had she been all this time, how did she escape, was she… harmed.
The last didn’t bear thinking about. And he was sure she’d like nothing better than to put the whole episode behind her—unfortunately, that wasn’t likely to happen any time soon. Brass would be merciless, as was their duty, in order to get whatever intel they could scrape together from her experience.
It was his job to make sure they left her spirit intact.
“Who’s there with you?” he asked, desperate to maintain their connection, however fragile.
Amanda tapped her watch, letting him know they were getting close to a hit. Hold on, Mags, hold on.
“Brave, incredibly strong women who are anxious to go home. Any word on when that might be, over?”
That was Maggie. Business first. Sentimentality could come later, after the case was closed.
A message came in from the SAC’s closed line. Reluctantly, Adam handed the phone to his boss, watching as she scrolled through the information. When she looked up, her gaze was triumphant. He reached for the keys, ready to head out as soon as she relayed the whereabouts.
We’re coming, Mags, we’re coming.
“Agent Holt, we have your location. Do you have visuals on a place to lie low until we arrive?” Amanda betrayed her excitement, tapping nervous fingers on the seat between them.
Adam enclosed her hand with his and squeezed, amazed how a tough by-the-book agent could have such soft skin. If her fingers felt that good what would the rest of her be like? She stilled and stared at him with luminous eyes. He wanted to dive into their depths and discover the real Amanda Rhinehold—the woman behind the badge.
“Yes. There are hills not far from here. We’ll hide there. Please hurry, our supplies are low and it won’t be long before someone comes looking for these men.”
Maggie’s voice pulled him away. He sat back, stunned by the direction of his thoughts. Was he seriously lusting after his boss? What the hell was the matter with him? How could he profess to love Maggie and yet…
And yet, he could not deny his body’s response to Amanda.
But, he could ignore it.
And would.
“Understood,” SAC Rhinehold said, her expression closed, eyes empty of emotion now. “I’m told we have a lock on your location. It will take time to get the necessary clearances for my men to cross the border, but don’t fear, we will find you.”
“I’m holding you to that,” Maggie said. “Is… is Adam still there?”
Amanda’s lips firmed. She ran a fingernail, short and unpainted, up and down the cell phone’s screen, then nodded as though reaching a decision. “Of course,” she said, and handed him the phone, careful to avoid his gaze. “I’ll just step outside; give you a moment’s privacy.” She opened the door and slid out of the truck before he could stop her. “I don’t have to tell you this line is not secure, Agent O’Connor.”
“Amanda…” Adam hesitated, not sure what it was he needed to say. She gave him a moment, but when nothing was forthcoming, she shook her head and closed the door before moving to the front of the truck. He could see he’d upset her; her shoulders were stiff as she leaned against the fender and stared out over the busy parking lot. Families hurried toward their vehicles, carts piled high with merchandise. He noticed more than one filled with Easter baskets and was startled to realize the holiday was almost upon them. It was easy to lose track of time when the job was your family.
“Adam?” Maggie’s husky tones filled the cab, recalling him to his priority—bringing his partner back alive.
“Mags, it’s so good to hear your voice. I was worried sick.” He stared at the screen, wishing he could see her beautiful face for himself; proof positive that she really was okay.
“I know you were.” She cleared her throat. “Listen, I need to get off this line in case… you know. I just wanted to thank you; you saved my life. Whenever I thought about giving up, I’d hear you in my head telling me what to do and it kept me going—you’re pretty bossy, you know.” She laughed. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “It’ll be good to get home and have a shower. How’s Harley doing?”
“Destroying my
furniture; you owe me a sofa. And, she snores. Loudly.” He grinned at her spontaneous giggle. “And she’s a bed hog. How can one five-pound feline need so much room to sleep? I made the mistake of giving her a push to get down one night and ended up needing a tetanus shot.”
“You sure know how to spread the blarney, O’Connor.” There was a muffled conversation on the other end, then she came back on. “Time’s wasting, the girls and I want to come home. Hurry, okay?”
He looked up and met Amanda’s gaze through the windshield. “You bet, honey. Be there before you know it, over.”
The phone call ended, leaving a hollow silence in its wake.
16
Maggie reluctantly ended the call, but couldn’t release her grip on the chipped black microphone—her one link to the outside world. Signing off on Adam just now was more devastating than all the months under Chenglei’s rule.
God, she missed him.
Her tidy apartment. Even her damn neighbor banging doors at four a.m. She wanted her life back. Soon. They were finally free. They just had to stay that way.
Olga watched her with worried eyes. “What do we do now?” She waved an arm to encompass the area. “It’s miles to the hills you spoke of; we’ll never make it on foot. Look at the others; they’re ready to fall over.”
They all were. It had been too long since any of them had a decent meal or water that didn’t taste like they were courting swamp fever. She glanced at the girls sitting in a sparse bit of shade provided by a scraggly bush. They reminded her of discarded dolls, their bodies crumpling under a combination of heat, stress, and exhaustion. None of them were properly clothed for trekking through the desert. No hats, flimsy tops and skirts caked with grime that left their arms and legs exposed to the elements, and bare feet. Their jailers enjoyed tormenting them with tales of what venomous snake bites, scorpions, or spiders could do to the unwary. They used fear to keep the women from escaping. It had taken months before Maggie could convince them anything—even death—was better than the fate they faced if they stayed.
They’d come too far to go back now.
She looked at the men lying dead in the sand. Already the vultures were circling high over their heads. It wouldn’t be long before the search teams noticed and came to check it out. They needed to make a decision.
She turned back to Olga. “We’ll load the soldiers into the Humvee, take what supplies we can, and use their truck.”
Revulsion crossed the once-beautiful blonde’s face. “Why can’t we just leave them where they are? Let the animals pick their bones clean. It’s no more than they would do to us.”
Maggie sympathized, she wasn’t fond of dead bodies either, but they had no choice. She pointed to the three scavengers circling in the cloudless blue sky. “They’re a beacon telling anyone within miles something died out here. And since those guerrilla soldiers contacted their superiors before engaging, that’s a problem. You know we’re running on borrowed time as it is, we need to do whatever it takes to gain the upper hand.”
“Fine,” Olga shrugged. “Let that one do it then.” She nodded to Kim, who was staring at them with a militant expression.
Tempting.
She wasn’t sure why, but something about the other female bothered Maggie. She didn’t act like a woman in danger. Quite the opposite in fact. It seemed almost as though she was with them under duress. Silly, of course. Who would choose a life of servitude over freedom?
Still, Maggie vowed to keep close watch over her anyway. It never paid to get complacent. She should know.
“I’ll help her.” And when Olga started to protest, “You get the others to help move the supplies from the Humvee to the truck. I want to be on the road within the next ten minutes, we have a long way to go before nightfall.”
Olga hesitated, then shrugged and trudged off—her prints leaving little commas in the sand—to the two girls eyeing her nervously from the shade. They rose and started for the army vehicle, single file, a long dark shadow trailing them like a stalker.
Maggie shivered and turned away, once again encountering Kim’s hostile stare. What was that saying about keeping your enemies close?
Adam started the truck, a signal his conversation with Maggie had ended. He waited for Amanda to climb in, then pulled out onto the highway and headed south, blowing by the exit ramp that would have taken him to her hotel.
She glared across the cab at him. “Where are you going, O’Connor?”
He’d never admit it to her, but that commanding tone, and the way his name rolled off her tongue, made him think dark, dirty thoughts. It could be fun seeing which one of them ruled in the bedroom.
“Adam.”
The impatience in her voice drew him out of his fantasy, more’s the pity. He threw her a quick look, then concentrated on the midday traffic leaving the city behind. “I’m taking you to the ranch. We need to go wheels up, asap, and I figure the chief will be the best to get us where we need to go.”
She sucked in a noisy breath and he was tempted to smile. If he were a betting man, he’d have to say not many would be brave—or stupid—enough to basically kidnap a high-ranking government official. There went his pension fund.
“You can’t go around divulging classified information at the drop of a hat, Agent. Take me back to my room and we can talk about this. Come up with a cohesive plan of action.”
Adam reached over and turned on the radio. “No ma’am, I can’t do that.”
“Can’t, or won’t?” Rhinehold snapped.
He shrugged. “Don’t matter. The outcome’s the same either way.” He glanced at her sitting stiff-as-a-board and this time the grin escaped. “C’mon, Amanda. Look on this as an adventure. Ever been to a real working cattle operation before? You’re going to love Frank’s place. It’s a different world out there. Peaceful.”
He reached over and grasped her hand, giving it a squeeze before he released her to signal and pass a row of cars moving too slow. Didn’t they know he was in a hurry?
“Go to sleep. We’ll be there when you wake up.”
“You better hope this doesn’t blow up in your face, O’Connor. It’s not just your life you’re screwing with by taking matters into your own hands.” She crossed her arms and stared out the side window, her body radiating disapproval.
Oh, he knew the chance he was taking, but the last time he’d trusted the DEA to protect him and his friends, he’d ended up next thing to dead. They were going to do things his way this time.
Hold on, Maggie.
17
Frank found a good lookout point over the area where he figured the rustlers were getting onto his land and set up a dry camp. It had been a mild spring so far, but the nights were still chilly and he missed the warmth of a fire. He couldn’t afford to take a chance on detection. He didn’t know how many of them were out there, and while he could do his fair share of damage, he wasn’t indestructible—or stupid. He’d lay low and wait for reinforcements, then the party could start.
The inky blue sky reminded him of Magdalena Holt and her incredible hair. Could she see the Big Dipper from wherever she was? He wanted to believe that. It gave him a connection, however tenuous, to the beautiful agent. He’d like to show her his ranch one day, the rolling grasslands and scenic rivers. She suited this land—proud and indomitable. Stubborn.
He applauded her bravery, but wished like hell she’d let someone else go under. He’d been part of that world for more years than he liked to count, had seen and done things that would haunt his dreams the rest of his days. He didn’t want that for Maggie. She deserved silk sheets and long, lazy Sundays in bed. Someone to feed her breakfast and rub her back. To show her kindness and passion and shelter her from the cruelties of the world. A man to protect and respect her.
His horse shifted, restless. Frank turned and patted her neck. “What’s the matter, Sadie girl? Missing your nice warm bed? Me too, but look at it this way; we get to spend quality time together, just you and me. Reminds
me of the old days when we spent the night out on the trail with Dad. Remember that?” He unbuckled the straps on the saddle and pulled it off her back, using the pommel to set it on the sparse grass a few feet away. “You were just a young filly then, fast as the wind.”
He opened a saddlebag, removed Sadie’s curry comb, and started on his pet’s back, smiling as she quivered under his touch. “You and me go back a long way, old girl. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t bend your ear once in a while. Just between us, it’s a might tougher talking to Spence now that he and Ma are an item.” He ran his fingers through her long mane. “I like Spencer, don’t get me wrong. This ranch would’ve fallen apart without Spence, but him and Mom? That’s going to take some getting used to. I just never figured on her finding someone after Dad. Sheesh, she might end up married and then what? I can’t stay in the main house forever. It’s… pathetic.”
He threw the brush toward the saddlebags. “I’m almost forty, for pity sake. It’s time I do something with my life.” It didn’t matter that he’d already been through three tours, lost a father and a brother, and ran a cattle spread. The dissatisfaction was real. Like something was missing. His teammates, Nick and Jared, had opened a private security company in Tidal Falls and they’d been after him to join them—maybe he should. There were plenty of operatives in the private sector, it would be like old times. A lot of the contracts they had were government sanctioned rescue missions, reconnaissance, guarding high-end officials; jobs he was trained for. Enjoyed.
Sadie nickered and Frank tensed. He dropped to his knees and reached into the saddlebag for his NVG, glad he never left home without the basics for his line of work. Yep, they had company all right. A dark pickup towing at least a twenty-four-foot cattle trailer had pulled up on the south boundary, lights off. Somehow, Frank didn’t figure them for friendlies.
“Good job, Sadie girl,” he murmured. “Keep quiet now and there’s a juicy red apple for you when we get home. Deal?” He’d trained her himself and knew it would take an explosion to get her to move more than a foot or two from where he’d ground-tied her. Which meant he could focus his attention on the nasties cutting a hole in his freshly mended fence.
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