Anywhere with You

by Debbi Rawlins

  “A young doe,” Grace said, controlling a shudder at the senseless killing. Hunting for food was one thing, but she’d never understood hunting for sport or trophies. “Two shots. They didn’t take anything.”

  “No, they’re looking for a buck. They want antlers. So now you know they’re most likely poachers.” He squinted up at the late afternoon sun. “Bad time of day to hunt, though.”

  “No one said they were smart.” She drew in more air. Wow, had she underestimated the effects of the altitude. “They could be kids, stupid, drunk or all of the above.”

  “Anyone who grew up around here knows better.” Ben continued to scan the ridge. “Could be tourists hoping to take back a souvenir,” he said grimly.

  “How did you find me?” she asked, willing to admit she was glad to see him. There’d been no cell service for two hours, and her radio was on its last leg.

  “The same way you found them.” He nodded at the boot prints in the soft ground. “You figure out how many there are?”

  “I believe three. The family who reported the shots used the trail that forked off a mile back. The kids’ prints made them easy to distinguish.” A buzzing insect landed on her arm, and she slapped it. Her skin was covered with welts and scrapes. She hadn’t noticed until now.

  Apparently, so did Ben. His gaze lingered on a particularly nasty gash.

  She turned to continue on the trail at the same time her radio emitted a burst of static. She left the volume turned down, but listened closely. Still nothing.

  “Have you talked to Roy?”

  “Not since this morning.” She gave the radio a light whack. “Why?”

  “I asked him to let you know I was on my way.”

  She eyed the Remington. “Is that a department rifle?”

  An excited yelp echoed off the ridge, followed by whoops of laughter.

  She and Ben looked at each other. They both knew the celebration meant the last shot had resulted in a kill. Her stomach lurched.

  “I know this area,” Ben said, his gaze skimming the stain on her jeans from when she’d slipped on a slimy creek bottom. “They sound closer than they are. You should consider turning this over to Fish and Wildlife.”

  “But we’re here and we have a better chance—”

  “No, we don’t. Grace.” He caught her hand, making sure he had her attention before releasing her. “We’re not going to gain on them. It’s likely they have four-wheelers waiting on the other side. We’re on government land. You have to notify Fish and Wildlife, anyway.”

  She knew he was right. The BLM had jurisdiction and the proper staff to go after poachers. But still, returning empty-handed was going to be hard...a blow to her pride. If only she could’ve moved faster. The high altitude was no excuse. She’d always been strong and disciplined. But since moving to Blackfoot Falls...

  “I guess Roy was right.” She sighed, too exhausted to care. All she wanted was to get back to the truck. “This was a colossal waste of time.”

  “The hell it was. You had no way of knowing where this would lead. You’re doing your job, even though it would’ve been easy to let it go. Just ask the three idiots loitering outside the Sheriff’s office.”

  She gave him a mock glare. “You didn’t give them a hard time, did you?”

  “Now, why would I do that?” he said, his tone and expression bland. Which made her laugh. Ben smiled. Then his eyes narrowed on her arm. He touched the bruised skin, his fingers gentle, but she flinched anyway. “Maybe I should go after the bastards,” he murmured.

  His quiet, emotionless voice worried her.

  “No one’s going after them,” she said. “You just convinced me not to. Come on, let’s head back.”

  Ben seemed fixated on her arm, but he finally nodded. “You need to clean out that gash right away. I assume you have a first aid kit in the truck.”

  She sighed. The scrape was nothing. She’d wait until she returned to the office. After a final look back at the ridge, Grace led him to the trail that would take them to the creek where she’d nearly fallen on her butt. From there, she estimated it would be another four miles to the truck.

  They walked in silence. She noticed the birds were singing again, and unfortunately, the flying insects who found her fair skin a delicacy had returned to feast. She swatted at them, but even that seemed like too much effort. She was tired, grimy and sweaty, and she sure wasn’t smelling like a rose.

  “You want to rest a few minutes?” Ben asked as they approached the creek.

  “I’m good,” she said, torn between taking a breather and hurrying back to a hot shower. “You need to stop?”

  “I could use a break.”

  “Liar.” She could see a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. “You aren’t even winded.”

  “Look, the altitude gets to everybody. Blackfoot Falls is just over sixty-eight hundred feet. Tack on another fifteen hundred where we are now.”

  “At least we’re going downhill.” She eyed the pair of large, flat rocks poking out of the water. “Those are not stepping stones. Avoid them like the plague.”

  He tested another rock with the toe of his boot. His very expensive-looking boot that was now caked with mud and probably ruined.

  “Why didn’t you change your boots?” she asked, and accepted the hand he offered as they crossed the creek.

  “I didn’t think about it.” He glanced down and winced. “I saw Wade and the other two outside the office and knew you were alone up here. Noah ought to fire their asses.”

  Grace’s heart fluttered. “That was really nice of you. To worry about me. Unnecessary, but still—” For God’s sake, she was babbling. Proof she was tired. She let go of his hand and concentrated on where she was stepping. “I owe you a new pair of boots.”

  “Nope.”

  “It’s the least I can do.”

  “Dinner,” he said, and checked his phone. “Tonight.”

  She stopped to dig for hers. “Do you have cell service?”

  “Not yet.” He was practically glaring at his phone. She could almost see the same dark cloud from this morning descending on him. “Are you off duty after you get back?”

  “I’ll have to make the call to Fish and Wildlife,” she said, already dreading it. “And write a report.”

  “That shouldn’t take long.”

  “Yeah,” she murmured, disgusted. “Not much to tell.”

  “Hey, you did your badge proud today. And that’s something coming from me. I don’t even like cops.”

  Grace laughed. “Gee, thanks.”

  “I’ve met too many like Roy and Wade.”

  “Roy really isn’t so bad.”

  Ben’s mouth tightened. Clearly, he disagreed. He started to say something but then let it go. Which she appreciated, because she wasn’t about to expend energy defending Roy.

  “When you call Fish and Wildlife, tell the warden you think the poachers came up the ridge from Maryville. That’s a damn good guess since we know they didn’t park vehicles on this side.”

  “Thanks. That’s good information, though it won’t matter this time. They’ll be long gone. My fault for not giving the Wildlife people a heads-up.”

  “Quit feeling sorry for yourself, Deputy. It doesn’t suit you.”

  Grace shot him a dirty look. The amusement in his face irritated the hell out of her. “I am not feeling sorry for myself. I’m taking responsibility for screwing up.”

  “My mistake,” he said with a faint smirk. “I don’t know if you’ve dealt with poachers before, but they’re rarely caught in the act. Those guys like to brag. I guarantee you they end up at a bar getting drunk and shooting off their mouths. That’s how they’ll get caught.”

  “See, there’s the problem. If only you’d told me you were an e
xpert on the subject, it would’ve saved me a lot of hassle.”

  Ben laughed. “Don’t get huffy and think you’re getting out of dinner.”

  Ignoring him, she continued down the trail, wincing when tree branches grazed her scraped arms. She couldn’t think about dinner or make the leap to what might happen afterward. It wouldn’t surprise her if her whole body ended up one giant welt. If nothing else, today served as a valuable lesson. Working outdoors in northern Montana held different challenges than the Arizona desert, and she needed to be better prepared.

  Her head wasn’t in the game. It humbled her to admit she’d dismissed Blackfoot Falls as a hick town that was beneath her instead of familiarizing herself with her new surroundings. Because she’d been too preoccupied with the guy who’d climbed a mountain to have her back. A guy who was leaving in a couple of days. And now she’d botched her first case.

  She was smarter than that, damn it.

  11

  BEN STRIPPED OFF his muddy boots and clothes. He’d never stayed in a place with a worse shower. The stall was too small, the pressure barely adequate. He had to duck to get under the spray. But all he felt was grateful when the hot water sluiced down his back. Poor Grace, with her scrapes and cuts, had gone straight to the Sheriff’s office to notify Fish and Wildlife and write her report. She hadn’t complained once. Hadn’t given Roy or Wade so much as a dirty look. Ben had no doubt she’d keep them out of the report.

  He crouched, leaning his hand against the shower wall to let the water pelt his neck while he took deep breaths, trying to rid himself of the urge to bloody a few noses. That was progress. Thirty minutes ago, he’d been ready to do a lot more damage to the three deputies.

  With a single look, Grace had made him back off. He’d been angry at the time, but he quickly realized how right she’d been. God, she was really something. Strong, controlled, capable, so damn independent. She had more integrity and courage than Wade, Roy and Danny put together. It would’ve been an insult to her if Ben had tried to intercede.

  He hoped she’d finished up by now and was in her room, but he doubted it. He’d left her right after she’d called Fish and Wildlife. He’d wanted to walk her back to the inn, but she’d sent him on his way.

  Just as well. She wouldn’t want to eat dinner out. He knew that much. While she showered, he’d pick up something at the diner or Food Mart and bring it to the room. In fact, he preferred they had some private time. Even if it turned out they just ate.

  Not his first choice, but she was exhausted. He’d seen it in her face and the stiff way she had moved. She needed rest, and he wasn’t going anywhere. At least not tonight. Tomorrow he’d reevaluate his options. Lena hadn’t called yet, but she would.

  Oddly, he’d managed to forget about her, about the loan, about the whole damn mess. And even the thing yesterday with his mom. His entire focus had been on Grace.

  He turned off the water and grabbed a towel from the rack. This morning, he hadn’t managed more than five minutes alone with his mom. First, they’d been interrupted by Cole and some of the ranch hands, and then again by Rachel, who’d wanted the recipe for tortilla soup.

  Considering his lousy mood over the loan, it was probably for the best. He needed to talk with Claudia first before confronting their mom. Nine years ago, his contact with her had been limited, so Claudia had passed on the news of their father’s death. By then, Ben had quit asking questions. He’d been filming on location in Mexico the day his sister had called to tell him. He remembered getting stinking drunk on tequila afterward. And paid hell for it the next day.

  While he finished drying off, he mulled over how he’d approach the issue. On the drive back from the Sundance, he’d left a voice mail for Claudia, who had a doctor’s appointment and then some class or another. He’d wait for her, find out if he was wrong about the gap in their mother’s story. Though his sister could be as blind as the McAllisters when it came to Hilda.

  Why no one else seemed concerned that his own mother had lied to him about his father was beyond him. Even Claudia seemed fine with the situation. Well, that was their business, and he swore that the next time he saw his mother, he wasn’t going to let it slide.

  After tossing the damp towel in the bathroom, Ben wandered to the window and peered down Main Street toward the Sheriff’s office, wondering if Grace was still there. She could be in her room already, but he wasn’t going to bother her. Maybe she’d take his advice and catch a nap after she showered. Besides, he had dinner to figure out.

  He let the drapes fall back into place, paused, and nearly yanked the right side off the rod trying to take another look. A woman in gray sweats was jogging toward the south end of town. Slender build, brown hair blazing with auburn highlights from the late afternoon sun. A woman who looked a hell of a lot like Grace.

  He stretched his neck from side to side, settled on the edge of the bed, then stood again. The woman was Grace. What in hell was she doing going for a run after all the physical exertion of today? What was she trying to prove?

  Had something else happened?

  None of his damn business, now was it?

  Theoretically, that was true. But he could feel the tension pulsing through him—frustration, edginess, all churning in the pit of his stomach. Left alone, nothing good would come of it.

  “Screw it.” He grabbed a pair of jeans.

  Grace could do all the running she wanted.

  After he left for LA.

  * * *

  TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES into a measly two-mile run, Grace was willing to admit she’d pushed too hard. After an exhausting afternoon and unused to the altitude, she was only punishing herself. And for what? Making bad decisions was becoming a real problem. It had been her choice to go after the poachers. She’d chosen to quit her job and leave Arizona. No one had forced her hand. Eventually, it might’ve come to that, once Internal Affairs officially closed the case on T.J.’s murder, but this move was her own doing.

  Unless she got a job in a city with a larger and more progressive sheriff’s department, there would always be guys like Wade and Roy who were threatened by a woman. Especially one whose qualifications were more impressive than their own.

  She’d faced gender bias in Arizona—there’d been a couple of idiot deputies who’d tried to get under her skin. She hadn’t let them, and she wouldn’t let Wade, Roy, Danny or anybody else do it in Montana.

  In fact, if she disregarded Clarence and her job situation, it wasn’t so bad in Blackfoot Falls. If only she’d give the place a chance. She was on her way to being friends with Rachel, Nikki and Sadie. The whole McAllister clan had been terrific.

  And there was Ben. But he’d be leaving soon, and that was a good thing. It couldn’t go any other way for her. Not if she wanted to adjust to her new life, be happy. Even resigned and semicontent would work for her.

  But Ben, with his deep, raspy voice and seductive eyes, his charming smile, his calm self-assurance...he wasn’t just gorgeous—he was far more astute and controlled than the rumors gave him credit for. Oh, he’d been furious with Wade and Roy. The bloodlust in his eyes had been obvious. But he’d understood the fight was hers, and he’d backed off. She knew it hadn’t been easy for him.

  He had a tender side, too. Maybe even a bit of a hero complex. That made her smile, especially knowing he’d deny it to his dying breath. That he’d gone up the mountain after her still boggled her mind.

  “It’s just me, Grace.”

  His quiet words echoing in her head brought a lump to her throat.

  He had no idea how much his support meant to her. No one besides her father had been in her corner for a very long time.

  She wasn’t about to fall apart over the small kindness. But heaven help the next person to make a negative comment about him. Including Clarence.

  Ben might’ve been a trou
blemaker as a teenager, a kid people like her uncle believed would never amount to anything, but Ben had grown into a strong, thoughtful man.

  The main problem with him was that he made her feel and want things she shouldn’t. Peace and contentment—those should be her only goals.

  But she couldn’t do anything about her future tonight. She’d promised to have dinner with him, and she’d keep her word.

  Winded and feeling overheated, she left the road and took refuge under the shade of a scrawny tree. It wasn’t that warm, and she’d hydrated. The problem was, her body was no longer pumped full of adrenaline. She was simply exhausted, and the thought of having to walk back to town made her want to curl up into a ball.

  She bent, stretching her leg muscles, and ordering herself not to pass out. The rocky ground was littered with dead branches and dry fall leaves, but she spotted a place to sit until she caught her breath. At the sound of an approaching car, she looked up with tentative hope. Catching a ride back would be great if it was someone who wasn’t a deputy.

  Of course it was a red Porsche. What the heck, right? He’d already seen her fail once today, so why not make it an even number? She moved away from the tree and closer to the road, wondering if he was headed to the Sundance or looking for her.

  He cruised to a stop and lowered the passenger window. “And here I thought you were the smart deputy.”

  “Nice. Really smooth.” She didn’t wait for an invitation but opened the passenger door and slid onto the cool leather seat. “Great pickup line.”

  “It worked.”

  She’d walked right into that one. Didn’t stop her from giving him a look. Seeing his faint grin, she laughed. “Just drive.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Back to town.” She snuggled down, enjoying the cool blast of air coming from the vent.

  He drove several feet, then veered toward the narrow shoulder. She expected him to make a U-turn. Instead, he stopped the Porsche.

  She sat up and glanced around. “What are you doing?”