Rachel’s friends had left the ranch, and with things still unsettled with his mom, Ben had decided to stick around for the rest of the week. It made sense to move to the Sundance. But with Grace staying in the room next to his, he wasn’t going anywhere.
Last night had been a waste. After leaving The Watering Hole, twice he’d found himself about to knock on Grace’s door. He wasn’t clear on what held him back. He’d never turned down a tipsy woman before. He wasn’t that noble. Her inhibitions might be dulled, but she still knew what she was doing. A drunk woman? Different story.
What was it about Grace that had him acting like Sir Friggin’ Galahad? What brought out the protective instinct that was so foreign to him it made the back of his neck itch? Funny, because she wasn’t the type who needed him or anyone else to defend her. But something about her calm self-assurance got to him in a way he found hard to explain.
The pull was almost primitive, in his DNA, a part of his biological makeup. He could’ve hooked up with several different women at the wedding who were usually—physically, at least—more to his liking.
His thoughts returned to Lena. She was older and still a pretty wild player, attracting men of all ages. But he’d never regretted his decision to keep sex out of their relationship. She had enough playthings. The two of them were friends, and he was her plus-one when she needed him.
Everything had always worked fine between them, but now? Not returning his calls? Screw the fun and games. This was business. Buying the ranch was his only goal. Meanwhile, she had her red-tipped talons in many different pots. He wanted some distance from Hollywood, to live away from the phony smiles and toxic relationships. Not that he didn’t want the Hollywood money, but with the ranch, he’d mostly be dealing with the wranglers he’d gotten to know over the years. People who worked with the animals during filming and knew him well enough to expect good stock and trained horses from him.
Sure, he’d still be on set sometimes, but only because he wanted to be. In truth, he’d probably have to do stunt work for a time, but man, he could practically see the barns and corrals filled with prime stock.
He’d been deep into the party life before, but not for a while now. If he’d harbored a doubt or two about changing careers, coming home had helped sort him out.
Home.
The unconscious thought didn’t sit well. No use getting sentimental now. Montana, the Sundance, none of it had been home for a long time. His friends were in LA. His job. His ranch was in Ventura. Or would be soon. In a matter of days, the deal would be done. And he might not have the Rockies to look at from his front porch, but the beach wasn’t too far. And with Ojai and the Los Padres National Forest a short drive away, he wouldn’t be hurting for beautiful scenery.
The minute he turned down the gravel road to the Sundance, he called the bank to get a status on the loan. He wasn’t worried about it, not really, the bank president was a personal friend of Lena’s and she had millions invested through Judd Hinton. But since Ben couldn’t talk to her, he hoped hearing something would blunt his edginess.
He had Hinton’s assistant on speed dial. She was a woman in her midforties. Smart, efficient, always well dressed, and she always blushed when he teased her. “Janice, it’s Ben Wolf.”
“Ben.” She paused. “Are you back in town?”
“Why? You miss me?”
Her laugh was brief and nervous. “Mr. Hinton isn’t here at the moment.”
“I don’t need to speak to him.” Something was wrong. She never went straight to business like that. “Have you got the final loan documents ready for our signatures?”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t.”
“Is there a holdup?”
Her resigned sigh knotted his insides. “I might as well tell you...Ben, the loan’s been denied.”
“That’s not possible.”
“I don’t know what else to say.”
“Tell me you’re joking.” He waited a moment that seemed like an eternity. “How can that be? Lena has all kinds of— Where’s Hinton? I need to speak to him.”
“He’s not in his office,” Janice said, which Ben didn’t believe. “Speaking to him won’t do any good. Look, you’ll find out anyway. Ms. Graves withdrew the loan request.”
“She did what?” He was coming up on the Sundance. Cole was waiting to show him a pair of colts he thought Ben might want. “There must be a mistake. Lena’s been on board from the beginning...”
“I have to go. I’m late for a meeting.”
“Wait. What if I carry the loan? I can come up with some of the down payment. Would fifteen percent work?” His desperate plea was met with silence. “Janice?”
“I’m sorry, Ben. I really am.” The sympathy in her voice angered him. “There’s nothing I can do.”
Feeling the rage building, Ben bit off a curse. “I understand,” he murmured, then disconnected before he said something he’d regret.
He drove the last stretch to the Sundance, not giving one damn about his speed, and parked under the cottonwood tree, trying like hell to calm himself. Cole had already seen him. If he hadn’t been standing outside the barn, Ben would’ve considered turning around and driving straight to LA.
What had he been thinking? Hadn’t he learned anything? From the lies he’d been fed as a kid to the lies he’d lived with in the backstabbing capital of the West Coast, he should have known something would go wrong the minute he was out of town.
So what the hell was he supposed to do now? Here he’d gotten Cole’s hopes up about them doing business together.
Shit.
Ben slammed his palm against the dashboard. Not hard enough. He slammed it again. Who was he fooling? He was thinking more about himself than the McAllisters. He’d come with his chest puffed out, driving his flashy car, showing off, the guy no one thought would amount to anything. Once he’d seen the condition of the Sundance, he’d wanted to help. And yeah, he’d gotten off on knowing they needed him.
If he couldn’t come through, he was going to look like a goddamn ass. Or he could tell Cole his partner already found a stock supplier. Just to save face.
Damn Lena. They’d drawn up a business plan, crunched numbers and even projected when to expect a profit. This venture wasn’t charity. She had most of the money and financial connections, and Ben had the expertise and the contacts to place the animals for top dollar. This was supposed to be a fifty/fifty partnership. And now she was treating him like a toy she’d grown tired of by not returning his calls? And pulling this bullshit with the loan?
Cole was frowning, so Ben got out of the car while trying to sort out his jumbled thoughts. He needed to keep his cool. No sense telling Cole anything yet. This wasn’t over. Ben would talk to Lena, and he knew just how to get her attention. If she wanted to play dirty, he was happy to oblige her.
Ben had just about reached Cole when he heard a vehicle coming up behind him. It was a sheriff’s department truck. And speaking of beautiful women creating havoc, Grace was driving.
* * *
GRACE SPOTTED THE Porsche and held her breath as embarrassment crashed over her. Now wasn’t the time to let a personal problem distract her from what she had to do. So Ben had rejected her last night. She was a big girl. She’d get over it. But damn it, why did she have to see him now?
Cole smiled as she approached.
Ben gave her a blank look.
“Afternoon, Grace.” Cole pushed up the brim of his hat. “What brings you out here?”
Keeping her expression neutral, she nodded at Ben. He barely acknowledged her. “I was hoping Trace was around.”
“He’s in Missoula. Won’t be back until late tonight. Anything I can help you with?”
Damn. “Marge at the diner suggested I talk to him.” Grace spotted a hawk and watched it soar toward the Big Belt Moun
tains. Beautiful country and a whole lot of it. A person could easily get lost. “I’m trying to figure out which is the best way to cross Weaver’s Ridge.”
“Yeah.” Cole nodded, rueful. “Trace is your man. He knows the place like the back of his hand.” He glanced at Ben. “You remember the area? Isn’t that where you and Trace used to go fishing?”
Ben stared at Cole as if he were speaking a different language. He seemed preoccupied and clearly hadn’t been following the conversation.
Cole eyed him a moment, then looked at her. “You asking for business or pleasure?”
“I wish it were pleasure,” she said. “A family camping up there reported gunshots. I’m thinking poachers.”
Cole frowned. “Anyone get hurt?”
“No. The mom and kids were shaken up, but that’s it.”
Cole glanced thoughtfully at her truck. “Even four-wheel drive won’t take you far,” he said. “At some point, you’d have to go on foot. Horseback might be the best option.”
“Same goes for the poachers, then. They must’ve parked ATVs somewhere.”
“You don’t know for sure you’re dealing with poachers.” Cole squinted at the mountains.
“No, but it makes sense.” She didn’t like the growing concern on his face. “Any militia groups around here?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” He shrugged. “You’re probably right about them being poachers. Any idea if they knew about the campers?”
“Hard to say. Apparently, the woman screamed, but the husband was adamant the shots were fired from a distance so they might not have heard her.” Grace checked her watch. “I have to get moving—”
“I hope you’re not thinking of going up by yourself. Those foothills can be tricky if you’re not familiar with the area.” Cole shot another look at Ben.
Unable to stop herself, she glanced at him, too. He stared into the distance, seeming miles away. Maybe his brooding had nothing to do with her or last night. One thing for sure, he wasn’t just distracted. He was in a hell of a bad mood.
“Well, thanks,” she said, backing away. “I really appreciate the information.” The last thing she wanted was for him or Cole to think she was asking for help to do her job.
“Wait.” Ben’s gruff tone made her more tense. “Cole’s right. Most trails dead-end, and the rest can get you lost. Don’t go up there alone.”
Yes, sir. She resisted the impulse to salute him and his high-handed decree. “Roy comes on duty in thirty minutes.” It wasn’t a lie. If Ben assumed she was waiting for backup, that was his problem.
“Great,” he said with a snort of disgust. “I’m sure the stupid bastard will be a big help.”
Cole gave him a stunned look.
Grace refused to engage. “Thanks again,” she said and hurried to the truck, wishing she hadn’t wasted the time driving to the Sundance. Yeah, she’d half hoped Trace would’ve gone with her had he been there. She was pretty good at tracking, but not knowing her way around the area was a handicap. And no telling how many perps she’d be facing.
Maybe Roy was right. Maybe searching the foothills was foolish. But it was also her job. And she hadn’t given up everything she loved in Arizona to bungle a chance to take back her life and save her career.
10
BY THE TIME Ben left the Sundance, he thought seriously about going back to bed and starting the day over. Except he couldn’t turn off his brain. His anger at Lena was eating at him. He hadn’t clarified yesterday’s conversation with his mother yet. And what was he supposed to tell Cole about the pair of colts he was saving for him?
If all that crap wasn’t enough, thoughts of Grace kept sneaking in to confuse him further. Much as he resented returning to LA without getting to know her better, he had little choice but to leave today. Tomorrow morning at the latest. He had to either get to Lena and talk some sense into her or start liquidating his assets. If he even had enough to qualify for the loan. He’d hate giving up the Porsche. But if that’s what it took to buy the ranch, so be it.
Five miles outside of town, he called Grace and was sent straight to voice mail. He figured she was probably with Roy. Ben doubted the guy had been gung ho about climbing those hills and had talked her out of the search. With the nightly rain showers, the place was bound to be muddy. Terrific for tracking, terrible for everything else. More than likely, the shooters had disappeared before the campers even made it to town.
It was already getting late, and he needed to decide soon if it was worth driving to LA tonight. One thing lifted his mood. He’d left messages for Lena with three of her friends. He smiled. She was going to flip out. Especially if Tricia got to her first. The woman was more frenemy than friend and lived and breathed gossip. She’d tried baiting him for more information, but he’d played dumb. Lena would hate everyone knowing she was avoiding him. Ben couldn’t have cared less.
He pulled onto Main Street and glanced at the dashboard clock, not surprised that he hadn’t received a call yet. It was Lena’s spa day, so she wouldn’t be glued to her phone. He drove past The Boarding House and spotted a white sheriff’s truck parked in front of the office.
As he got closer, he saw that it was Roy leaning against the passenger door. He was talking to Wade and Danny, neither of them wearing a uniform shirt. Grace was probably inside writing a report.
He parked the Porsche and got out. The men were laughing until Danny spotted him. He said something to the other two who instantly shut up. Wade hooked his thumbs in his jeans as Ben approached. The other two started twitching like a pair of virgins hoping to get laid.
The truck was nice and clean, even the tires. No trace of mud. “Is Grace inside?”
Roy averted his gaze.
Danny flushed red, mumbling something about having to go home, then hurried down the sidewalk.
Ben’s stomach clenched. No, he had to be misreading the situation. They might be pricks, but they wouldn’t let her go up to Weaver’s Ridge by herself. He stared at Wade, daring the man to weasel out of an answer. “Where is she, Wade? Where’s Grace?”
“How should I know?” The tic had started in his jaw, and he fleetingly met Ben’s eyes. “I’m not even on duty yet.”
“You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you, Wade?”
“She’s not here,” Roy said, his voice cracking. “She might’ve gone to Weaver’s Ridge.”
Ben glared at Roy.
“I told her not to go,” the deputy said. “I did. Ask her. I flat-out told her we would set up checkpoints if we had the manpower, but not search on foot. Not for poachers.”
Ben couldn’t speak. Fury ripped through him. Underneath it was fear. Fear that something could have happened to Grace. Fear that he wouldn’t be able to gain control of himself. He couldn’t give in to the rage. It would cripple him.
“Have you had contact with her?” Ben hit speed dial. “The radio...can you reach her?” he asked, then cursed when he got her voice mail.
“I’ve tried.” Roy shook his head. “I even drove up to see which trail she used,” he said, darting a glance at Wade. “It’s good and muddy, but I didn’t see tire tracks.”
“Come on, she didn’t go up there,” Wade said. “She’s probably found someplace off the highway where she can read a magazine.”
Ben stared at him in utter disbelief. “You stupid bastard. I met her three days ago and even I know her better than that.”
“He’s right,” Roy muttered. “She’s got a stubborn streak in her.”
Ben shook his head. “Grace isn’t afraid to do her job.” He ducked his head inside the cab of the truck and grabbed the rifle mounted in back.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Wade said. “That’s county property. You can’t touch that.”
Behind the seat, Ben found a box of bullets. He straightened and l
ooked from Wade to Roy. “Either of you wanna try and stop me?”
Wade glared back, but didn’t move.
Roy hung his head.
“That’s what I thought,” Ben said, giving Wade a cocky smile before heading for the Porsche.
“I’m coming with you.” Roy hustled around the truck to the driver’s door.
“You can’t keep up.” Ben wasn’t about to sugarcoat things. “Keep trying the radio. If you get through, tell her I’ll be right behind her.”
* * *
GRACE HEARD ANOTHER shot and ducked, using the tree for cover. It was an automatic reflex. She was fairly certain the shooter wasn’t close. It sounded as though the shot had come from the direction of the neighboring ridge, but it was difficult to gauge. She moved out into the open and scanned the mountainside, hoping to see something—sunlight glinting off a rifle barrel, movement, a color that didn’t belong—anything that would point her in the right direction.
The birds were quiet. Insects had stopped chirping. Even the breeze no longer rustled the leaves. She shuddered at the unnatural silence. And then she heard it. Behind her, a twig snapped, and dead leaves crunched under footfalls. She froze.
“It’s just me, Grace.” Ben’s low voice nearly gave her a heart attack.
She spun around, gulping in air, her gaze flying to the rifle in his hand. “What are you doing here?”
“Same as you,” he said with a peculiarly sweet smile, then turned his head and peered at the ridge. “Sounded like the shot came from over there.”
“I think so.” She slid him another look, just to make sure he wasn’t a hallucination.
He stayed focused on the tree line. “Gotta admit, I’m surprised the idiots are still around.”
“Obviously, they didn’t know about the campers.”
“The weather’s been warm. They should’ve figured they might not be up here alone. You find anything yet?”
Anywhere with You Page 10
