Cowboy Fairytales Omnibus

by Lacy Williams

  Was something moving back there? He hadn't seen any kind of bird come out of the sky. He'd checked that Apollo hadn't hopped up in the truck bed before he'd left the house this morning at oh-dark-hundred.

  Matt had been staring out the window, but now came alert, sitting up straight. "What's the matter?" He twisted in his seat, glancing out the back window, then back at Gideon.

  "Something moved in the back."

  He felt Matt's skeptical stare. "Like what?"

  Gideon shrugged, shifting his neck side to side. He'd been sitting in the truck for too long this morning after a long night, and his muscles were tight. "Something."

  He spotted a turnout off the two-lane state highway and put on his blinker.

  "Seriously?"

  He glanced at his brother, brows raised. "You're that hungry for Mama G's cooking? Can't wait two minutes for me to tie down my tools?"

  Matt just frowned.

  Gideon stopped with a crunch of the tires on dirt and threw the truck into Park. "Just give me a minute."

  Of course Matt followed him out of the truck.

  He'd left it idling, but something rustled beneath the tarp even above the engine noise. Glancing at Matt over the truck bed, he reached in and rolled back the tarp to find a white-faced woman huddled beneath.

  * * *

  Alessandra was frozen through. She couldn't feel her fingers or toes, and her teeth had stopped chattering an hour ago. She'd never been so cold her teeth ceased chattering. The irony of escaping an assassin only to die of hypothermia.

  She barely registered that the truck had stopped before the darkness of her covering lifted and she came face-to-face with a grizzly bear. With a jolt she realized it was a man, but with a dark, shaggy beard covering his face and long hair that fell into his eyes, he might as well have been a bear. The look in his intense, dark eyes said he'd kill her.

  "Who are you?" he growled.

  She tried to answer, but her lips wouldn't form words.

  "She's half-frozen," said another voice. Her neck twinged when she tried to turn her head, and she strained her eyes to the opposite side of the truck bed to see another man, this one clean cut and in a military uniform, although he shared the same dark eyes as the first. Related?

  Her heart pounded with fear, but she still couldn't make her muscles move. She had no strength left, not after running for thirty-six hours. She'd passed through six airports, spent most of that time hiding in restrooms and freaking out over every glance another passenger sent her way.

  The first man—the grizzly bear—grunted and reached for her. She was used to everyone carefully staying out of her personal space, but she couldn't form a protest when his hand clamped around her upper arm. He tugged, and she slid across the slippery metal truck bed.

  And then he hauled her bodily over the side, lifting her easily, as if she were a bag of Glorvaird apples or one of the tools that had been poking her beneath the plastic tarp.

  Military-man stayed on his side of the truck.

  Her legs wobbled, but she didn't fall when he set her on her feet.

  Who where they? Did they mean her harm?

  "L-let g-go of me." There. She'd gotten the words out, and even with the wobble, she'd sounded almost imperial.

  The grizzly bear did let go, and she had to clutch the side of the pickup and lock her knees to keep from tumbling to the ground.

  She didn't like the way he looked her up and down. Not the way she was used to men looking at her. Usually they were assessing her figure, not her threat level.

  She wasn't the threat. He was!

  "Who are you?" he demanded. "Why were you stowed away in my truck?"

  She stalled, looking away from the bear's narrow-eyed gaze and over his shoulder instead.

  She'd hoped to escape the airport without being tracked by surveillance cameras, hoped that when the truck stopped, she'd be able to unobtrusively get out without anyone being the wiser.

  She'd failed.

  And it appeared she'd hitched a ride to the middle of nowhere. They'd stopped along a stretch of lonely two-lane road. Fields of red-brown dirt extended to the horizon in both directions. There was nothing else within eyesight. Just the two men and the truck.

  No escape.

  She should be worried, but right now, she felt only the same numbness that had stolen over her yesterday.

  "How'd you get in my truck?" he demanded. His eyes glittered with what she assumed was anger.

  "I c-climbed in. I n-needed to get o-out of the airport w-without being seen." She'd snuck down the escalators to the parking garage, hiding in a large group that seemed to be coming off a mission trip, judging by their colorful backpacks with patches sewn on. In the parking garage, the group had loaded up into two large vans, and she'd been left alone, creeping between vehicles and not sure what to do next.

  Then, a scary-looking man with a shaved head had come off the elevator, and she'd panicked anew. Had he tracked her here from New York?

  She'd seen the beat-up truck and the plastic blanket inside the bed and quickly jumped in and covered herself up. It could barely be called a plan. It evidently hadn't been a good one.

  She was finding she wasn't very good at taking care of herself. Although at least when she'd been running, she hadn't had time to think about...

  The bear must've said something else that she'd missed, lost in her thoughts. She was getting kind of foggy. She still wore the evening dress and long coat she'd had on for the benefit two evenings ago. The clothes were impractical and had done nothing to keep her warm, exposed as she was in the back of the truck.

  "Gideon, get her in the truck."

  The bear—Gideon—growled at the other man. Maybe he really was part-animal.

  "Does she look dangerous?"

  Gideon the Bear assessed her again with a long up-and-down glance. He muttered something under his breath and moved toward her, gripped her upper arm.

  She tried to pull away. Too weak. He towed her to the cab, yanked open the door with his opposite hand, and practically shoved her inside.

  The other man, the soldier, was getting in from the passenger side. "You need some help?" he asked, as she struggled to make her icy muscles move enough to slide in the truck.

  She shook her head slightly.

  There was no way to ignore the presence of Gideon the Bear behind her, and she soon found herself squished between the two broad-shouldered men. The soldier reached across and turned the knob for the heater. It was already much warmer, just being inside the truck, but the extra heat bled through her skin and into her extremities. And it felt so good.

  Until her skin started to prickle. And then it didn't feel good at all.

  * * *

  Gideon shared a look with Matt above the blonde's head as she began to shiver violently.

  She was putting on a brave face, but he knew what it felt like to be so close to hypothermia—he'd been close once, on his very first mission with the teams.

  When your body started warming up, it felt like tiny knives pricking all over your skin. It hurt.

  Judging from the fancy dress and coat—was she even wearing stockings?—he guessed she had exposure, though the skin he could see wasn't the awful grayish-white that would indicate frostbite, or he'd be driving her to the nearest hospital.

  He didn't think Matt's motives for getting her in the truck were entirely altruistic. His brother had to have known that the heat would be painful for her. No, Matt knew that now was the time to get some information out of her.

  "Who are you?" Gideon asked again.

  She glanced at him askance. "N-no one." Her teeth were chattering now, which he guessed was a good sign.

  Matt stared at the woman.

  Gideon could admit she was attractive. Striking, with her pale blue eyes and long blonde hair. She'd looked so frightened when he'd pulled back the tarp. Like a waif in need of rescuing.

  Which just raised his suspicions higher. Something was really wrong her
e.

  Why had she targeted his truck?

  "What's your name?" Gideon pressed. "What're you running from?" Because it was obvious she was running from something. The evening gown and coat stunk of money. And those shoes... they were impractical, skinny heels and strappy—you'd break your ankle trying to make a quick getaway. Even the faint whiff of perfume she wore smelled of money.

  And for a moment when he'd pulled her out of the truck, her coat had fallen open, and he'd thought he'd seen a dark stain inside. Dried blood?

  Everything about her was setting off warning bells in his head.

  And then Matt raised his eyes to meet Gideon's gaze above her head again, and this time he shook his head slightly.

  Gideon shook his head right back. Matt might be a trained soldier, but Gideon was an operator and trusted his instincts. He didn't know what his little brother was thinking. Coddling her?

  Matt didn't back down. I know who she is, he mouthed above her head.

  What—how?

  "Can you—take me somewhere with a telephone?" the woman asked.

  "We aren't going anywhere until you give me some answers."

  Matt frowned at him.

  She looked past him, to the door.

  Let her try.

  She was trapped between the two of them. No way would a lightweight like her be able to get past a former SEAL and a soldier. And anyway, if she got out of the truck, where would she go? Only one stock-hauling semi had passed them since they'd pulled over. No way was she walking far in those shoes.

  "You promised me Gerry's," Matt reminded him.

  Gideon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. How could his brother be slave to his stomach right now? The fact that there had been a woman hiding in the back of his truck had derailed their breakfast plans.

  "Let's take her with us," Matt continued, as if Gideon had already agreed. "We can figure out what to do from there."

  No way.

  Matt must've seen his refusal in the set of his jaw. He mouthed, trust me.

  Gideon knew his little brother probably meant well, but Gideon was driving. He was in charge here.

  But judging by the stubborn set of the woman's chin, she wasn't giving answers anytime soon. Could Matt really know who she was?

  Gideon rested one wrist over the steering wheel and glanced at the land surrounding him. There was nothing here. They had another ten miles to go before they reached the small town where Gerry's was located.

  What was he going to do, leave her to hitchhike? He might be suspicious, but he wasn't cruel.

  No way was a cab or Uber driver from the city driving all the way out to Gerry's to pick her up, but if they left her with a hundred bucks, it didn't count as abandoning her, did it?

  What other choice did they have? It's not like he'd invited her to hitch a ride in his truck.

  "Fine." He put the truck in gear and hit the gas, pulling back onto the two-lane.

  Matt yanked his phone from one of his cargo pockets and played with it. Seriously, his text couldn't wait until they got this mess figured out?

  The woman remained silent, rocking slightly back and forth, though her shivers had lessened.

  A few minutes later, they pulled in front of Gerry's and found a lucky parking spot at the back of the lot—lucky because they didn't have to park in the overflow lot across the street. The sleepy little town was mostly quiet, no traffic coming down Main Street, even though Gerry's lot was full. The feed store two doors down also boasted a few cars in the lot, but the church and bank across the street seemed virtually empty.

  He got out, motioning for the woman to follow him. "C'mon."

  He saw her glance around as she slid from the truck until her feet touched the ground.

  "Don't even think about it." He took her upper arm, ensuring she wouldn't try to bolt. What had her so flighty?

  "I'll thank you not to put your hands on me." Her voice wasn't wobbling anymore, and that tilt of her chin... was she seriously trying to order him around?

  "When I start getting some answers, we can negotiate."

  Matt shot him a look as he joined them in front of the truck, sandwiching the woman between them.

  Inside, the restaurant was bustling. Mama G, slightly overweight and in her fifties, must've been watching for them, because she was out from behind the counter before the bell above the door had quit ringing, her arms thrown around Matt in an exuberant hug.

  Several good 'ol boys took up seats at the counter—probably a few of them Vets. They started clapping, and soon the restaurant erupted in applause and "welcome homes," for his brother. Matt deserved it, even if they didn't know most of these folks.

  And Gideon used the distraction to tow the woman to the booth against the wall with a small, handwritten Reserved card sitting on its edge.

  The woman glared at him, but he was much bigger than she was, and she allowed herself to be nudged into one side of the booth.

  He followed her in, blocking her way out.

  The applause died out, and Matt approached, accepting several backslaps on his way. He slid into the opposite side of the booth and handed Gideon his phone.

  The screen was lit with a picture that did look sort of like the woman sitting regally beside him, her back straight as a poker. Sort of. The phone picture showed a beautiful young woman with perfectly-styled hair and too much makeup smiling at the camera. The woman beside him looked bedraggled, her hair limp, her face pale. Definitely her.

  She glared at him, and he glanced back at the phone. Read the photo caption. Princess Alessandra of Glorvaird at some fancy-pants reception last year.

  A princess?

  Suddenly, he remembered the newscast he'd caught only seconds of in the airport. This was the princess who'd been shot at in New York? Whose bodyguard had died?

  How in the heck had she ended up here?

  3

  Alessandra watched in horror as Gideon the Bear glanced at the phone's screen. Her own picture looked back at her.

  Her heart beat in her throat, threatening to choke her.

  Any chance at anonymity she'd had was gone.

  The question remained: what would they do now? The two strangers could hold her for ransom. Abandon her.

  But the compassionate glance that the soldier sent her... Somehow, she knew the brother in military garb was on her side. Would he help her?

  Gideon the Bear's head came up slowly. While he'd been suspicious and surly before, something clicked inside him as quickly as his posture changed. Where he'd been tense, now his shoulders had straightened, something tight and controlled in his actions.

  "I guess you've had a hard couple of days, haven't you?" Military-man asked.

  At his words, unbidden tears filled her eyes.

  Tim.

  She'd tried to keep him from her thoughts. but every time she closed her eyes or started to drift off, images of his blood flowing up between her fingers played behind her eyes. He was dead.

  She blinked at the images now, working to erase them.

  Gideon the Bear shifted closer to her—close enough for their thighs to brush—and she tensed.

  "Easy," the soldier said, his voice a low rumble that barely carried across the table. He tilted his head, and she followed his glance to a young woman wearing an apron over her T-shirt and jeans, rapidly approaching their table.

  Gideon's arm stretched across the back of the booth. Not quite touching, but close enough that she felt the heat radiating from him.

  She wasn't used to the closeness, to someone else being in her space, and she wanted to curl into a ball in the corner of the booth, regardless of the soldier's assurance.

  "Pull your coat closed," the Bear murmured, head tilted toward her, as if they were having an intimate conversation. "It stands out, but not as bad as your dress underneath."

  She didn't have to look around to know it was true. On the way in, she'd seen the older men in overalls and worn flannel shirts, the young mother with her brood in st
ained discount-store clothing.

  She stuck out like a sore thumb.

  She might not trust Gideon the Bear, but she could admit he was right.

  She pulled her coat closed and crossed her arms just as the waitress reached their table.

  "So you're back." It was said to the soldier with a smile, but Alessandra had grown up around politicians, dignitaries and other royals, and she easily read the tension behind the woman's expression.

  "So I am." The soldier's return smile was more genuine, but still, an something underlying remained. "Life treating you right, Katie?"

  "Just dandy." Only the words rang somehow false. Katie raised her order pad and pencil. "What can I get you?" While at first she'd only seemed to have eyes for the soldier, now her gaze widened to encompass Alessandra and Gideon as well.

  Alessandra wanted to shrink beneath the table. If the two men had recognized her so easily, just how quickly would someone else discover her identity?

  "Coffees all around," the soldier said easily. "And three of the house specials. Gideon said his girl has been begging him to bring her here for weeks. Right?"

  Gideon's what?

  Alessandra forced a trembling smile when the waitress's gaze darted back to her. She tried not to lean quite so far away from the hulking man at her side.

  The man beside her didn't seem happy with the soldier's explanation either. She could see a muscle ticking beneath his eye.

  Thankfully, the waitress didn't comment, only scratched something on her order pad before she turned away. A man in a worn ball cap with a green logo above the bill waved her down before she'd gone two steps.

  "Way to act natural," the soldier scoffed.

  "That was probably the worst thing you could've said," the Bear returned, leaning forward slightly, over the table. "If she wants to avoid people scrutinizing her. Everyone around here knows I haven't dated in"—his furious whisper broke off as he glanced at her briefly—"a long time."

  The soldier shrugged, a smirk playing around the edges of his mouth. "It's about time," he said. "You're not getting any younger."