by Louisa Bacio
“I think we need to check on him. Odds are everything is fine,” Shaw said. “But we shouldn’t take any chances.” He stood, doing a few last stretches. “You two, monitor the cameras. Zoom in more and see if anything that looks off. Call us on the walkie-talkie if you notice something.”
They geared up quickly and headed out the door. Clouds covered the sky, making it darker than usual at this time of day. Everything in the barn appeared to be normal, except some animals had not yet been brought in for the evening. Making the connection, Lucia increased her pace, almost running to the outdoor enclosures where they kept the bucks. With everything that had been happening, Mack wouldn’t leave them outside at night. It wasn’t safe for them.
It wasn’t safe for anybody. They turned the corner of the barn, and there he was. Her voice caught behind the lump in her throat, and she froze.
His legs and torso twisted at a weird angle, Mack looked like he’d been out there for a while. Pools of mud piled around his feet and ankles. This was all her fault. If she would have gotten help sooner, or let him bring on his nephew, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. He was too old to be overseeing the ranch alone.
Shaw knelt beside him, placing his fingers at Mack’s neck.
“He’s got a pulse,” he said. “I don’t see any exterior wounds.”
“Oh thank God,” she said. She grabbed the walkie-talkie from her hip and called the house.
“Are you there? Over.”
“We’re here,” her sister returned. “Go on.”
“We found Mack. Something happened to him. He’s unconscious, but breathing. We need an ambulance.”
As she waited for a response, she turned on the flashlight and scanned the surrounding area. Shaw looked to be trying to make Mack be more comfortable. He’d removed his jacket and tented it over his face.
“That might take too long,” Shaw said. “I’m assuming the closest hospital is down that long road. If we can get him stable in a vehicle, driving him would be faster.”
Lucia followed his line of thought. Waiting for emergency services meant twice as long. “Who’ll take him?”
“I’ll send one of the guys,” he said.
At that moment, the light hit something in the mud: footprints. Oversized, misshapen prints. Like a cross between human and animal.
“Look at that!” she said.
Shaw checked out the direction of her interest. Rain pelted them and the wind picked up in an eerie howl. Water seeped down the back of Lucia’s jacket. They had to get Mack out of there, and now.
“Dom. Bring the golf cart to the south field, right before the bunkhouse. Someone has to take Mack to the hospital.”
“We’re on our way,” a male voice said over the handset.
The change kind of threw her, and she imagined one of Shaw’s men had taken control of the situation.
“Come help me,” he directed.
The last thing she wanted to do was get next to his body. He’s still alive. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Reluctantly, she shoved the communicator back onto her belt and did as he asked.
“I need you to straighten him out—slowly,” Shaw instructed. “I checked his neck, and it looks good, albeit a little awkward.”
She moved to his legs, gently taking each calf in her hands and maneuvering him so he laid flat on the ground. He moaned, moving his head to the side.
“It looks like he might be coming around,” Shaw said.
“Mack?” She touched the side of his face. “It’s Lucia. We’re here. You’re going to be all right.”
“Luce?” She barely heard him.
“Don’t push yourself. Help’s on its way.”
“It was awful.” Leaning in closer, she tried to capture every word he said. “I never. Saw something like it. And I never want to again. I didn’t believe.”
Her mind jumped to those insane footprints in the dirt. What had he seen that had scared him so much?
She didn’t have time to ask because at that moment, headlights cut through the night sky. She wanted to wave them off from driving over the tracks, but it was too late. The evidence of an unknown entity was swept away under the tires.
C'est la vie.
Dom got out with Alec. “Jackson’s got the truck ready, and Dad’s already loaded in the passenger seat,” she said. “Once we get back there, we’ll take off. Oh, and Roxy called and said she’s staying at a friend’s house tonight—less chance of losing power.”
Between the four of them, they each took a side of Mack’s body and lifted him onto one of the bench seats.
“I’ll be all right,” he muttered. “It’s nothing. Nothing a nap won’t solve.”
“I don’t think so,” Dominique said. “We’re going to make sure you’re all checked out proper.”
Once he was loaded, Alec and Dom got into the cart. “You coming?” Dom asked.
“You go on ahead,” Lucia said. “We’ll finish up here and walk back to the main house.”
“I’ll be holding down the fort when you return,” Alec said. “They all want to go, and I figure someone has to stay behind.”
“Thanks,” Shaw said, waving them off.
The golf cart lurched to the side, before Alec grinned and righted himself.
“Does he have a license to drive that thing?” Lucia asked, joking. Now that the immediate danger of the situation had passed, she felt better.
“Does anyone?” Shaw replied. “You should have seen Mack when I begged to drive the tractor. He wouldn’t hear of it.”
As soon as the vehicle left, they both moved to look at the prints. Nothing. The tires had all but obliterated it.
“You saw it, too, right?” she asked him.
“On my honor,” he responded. “Do you have any animals on the farm with a footprint that looks like that?”
She inspected his face. She didn’t know the secret agent well enough to read him yet. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” she asked. “We don’t raise any Bigfoots here.”
“Or chupacabras?”
Even in the darkness, she saw his eyebrows raise with the question. Her proverbial hackles went up.
“Don’t start that with me. Mack said he saw something, and I believe him. You don’t need to.”
Shaw raised his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying. We’re out here for an investigation, and it’s been pretty quiet. Something happened tonight. Now, this is what I do. Let me do my investigating.”
Despite his words sounding true, she didn’t quite believe him. Her mind flashed to the first moment of seeing Mack laying—motionless—on the floor and the sense of hopeless that struck. They couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not this way.
With that thought in mind, she tempered her response. For now, she needed to rely on someone else.
9
The skies chose that moment to open as if raining tears for Mack’s attack. The freezing showers cut through her shirt.
“What the hell?” Shaw yelled. “Now?”
Told you so. While Lucia thought those words, she refrained from actually saying them. The bray of the male breeding goats cut through the storm, and she stood on her tiptoes and shouted, “Help me.”
Natural instincts might be to seek protection first, but she needed to get the animals indoors for their safety. With already cold hands, she opened the gate, and proceeded to scoot the goats into the barn. Following her lead, Shaw paced her to the left, arms outstretched and hollering.
Heads down, the three bucks moved inside. She shut the outside door, and leaned against it. It had only been a few minutes, but already both of them were drenched. She beckoned Shaw to follow her, yelling “bunkhouse” before taking off as fast as possible without slipping in the mud.
With wet hands, she fumbled with the door knob. From behind her, Shaw reached around and gripped the handle, pushing it open and her inside at the same time.
They stood there for a few moments, dripping and catching their breath. For Lucia, she neede
d to get a handle on her all-over-the-place emotions. Water dripped down her face. She needed to grab some towels, but even more, she had to confront the man before her.
She smacked her hand against his chest and suppressed the shudder. Definitely hurt her more than him.
“Can you admit you’re wrong?”
Her anger had built to the point of explosion. Heat flushed her face, and she fisted her hands.
“When was I wrong?” A crease furrowed his forehead and he narrowed his eyes on her.
The scrutiny of his stare unnerved her, but she wouldn’t back down. Not this time. He needed to admit he was not right. And if he wouldn’t or couldn’t, then as soon as the full team returned, he’d no longer be welcome. Forget about the raging storm outside or the attacks. They’d survived this long on the farm, they’d continue to live without him.
“I don’t get what you’re so worked up about,” he said. “Mack’s going to be all right. We found him in time.”
“It has nothing to do with that. You don’t get it.”
“Explain it to me.”
The storm shutters shuddered from the fierce winds. A howling swept through the bunkhouse. This time, she knew it wasn’t a supernatural creature. Only the sounds of an old house fighting to survive Mother Nature. Her grandmother used to tell her tales about the rocking chair in the living room moving on its own, and to be wary when the winds whistled.
“The news reported this storm was coming. After living here all my life, I told you it would hit. That stupid Smartphone of yours predicted the bad weather.” She resisted the urge to grab the device out of his hands and toss it. Even with limited service, he relied on it for all sorts of calculations.
“And? What would leaving have changed? We have enough supplies. The house is as secured as it can be. Again, I don’t see the problem.”
“The problem is you discounted me! You didn’t believe my story, since I first called you.” It was like he played by some government book, but not real life.
He crossed his arms over his chest and listened. “What makes you think that? I wouldn’t have come out here and undertook the expense of a full team if I didn’t think it was warranted. Obviously, something happened.”
“Something.” She threw her hands up, above her head, and paced across the room. She hated the metal coverings over the windows. They made her feel trapped. And she was. It’s not like she could go out. She worried about the animals, but she had to trust that they’d be all right. Granted that when it passed, the bucks would be safe and there still would be a barn.
For the moment, she gave up, and stalked to the cabinet to get towels. The physical needs canceled out the emotional ones. She tossed one to Shaw. He caught it single-handedly and approached her.
“You have to understand, you go by your instincts, and I go by my experience and the verifiable facts. It doesn’t mean I don’t believe you.” He held up the white towel like it was a flag of surrender. “Truce?”
With a soft towel in his hand, Shaw wiped away the beads of rain on Lucia’s cheek. She leaned into his touch, and he traveled lower to her jawline and shoulder. Her wet hair he brushed back, reveling in the strong and direct stare she gave him.
She didn’t shy away, but seemed to offer a challenge. A drop of water clung to her lower lip and he focused on it. Would it fall on its own? He fought licking it off. He was there to do a job, not to get involved romantically. But it seemed too late for that excuse already. He was invested in this case, and in her.
The wind howled through the corners of the bunkhouse, and she shivered and wrapped her arms around her body. Still, that droplet hung as if setting up a home on her mouth. Reflexively, he ran his tongue along his lower lip, realizing what he was doing. If he really wanted to avoid a further physical run-in with Lucia, he’d have to leave the cabin, or more likely the farm and entire assignment.
“Do you really think he’ll be all right?” She leaned against him and where their bodies touched, the coldness evaporated.
His senses on full alert, it appeared as if she wasn’t going to let this encounter pass without difficulty.
“He’d stabilized by the time they left. It’s best to take him to the hospital.” He fought the urge to take advantage of their time together, and instead focused on alleviating her fears. “I’m sure we’ll hear how he is soon enough. On that note, let me call Alec and let him know we’re all right.”
She waved her hand. “Go ahead.”
“Hey, buddy. We got caught in this deluge and will be riding it out at the bunkhouse.”
“Dude. I’ll be covering the house, but don’t expect me to come rescue your ass,” Alec said. “It’s ugly out there.”
“We’re good. No need to come check on us,” Shaw stressed.
Alec chuckled. “I hear you there. Good thing we didn’t put any cameras indoors.”
Before Shaw responded, Alec broke the connection. Not that he meant the comment exactly like that. But really, what did it matter right now?
“Anything?” Lucia asked.
“We didn’t even touch on him.” He checked his watch. “They’re probably just arriving, and hopefully missed the downpour.”
“Maybe I should have done something.” She gazed up at him, eyes wide. “Called sooner. I was so afraid someone would get hurt.”
“No. There’s nothing else you could have done. He’s been running this land for how long? Since you were a babe. He knows more about it and the potential dangers than you. He shouldn’t have been out there alone.”
Hands against his chest, she pushed away from him and walked a few paces.
“Don’t blame him. If we were making more money, we’d have a bigger staff. Holding onto this farm is a losing dream.”
“Sometimes, even losing dreams are worth fighting for.” Do I believe that? After the life he’d had, he hadn’t put himself out there too much. Instead, he sought out a different sort of truth.
The chattering of her teeth brought him back to immediate dangers. Wet clothing clung to her curves. While sexy, it couldn’t be comfortable.
“It doesn’t sound like it’s going to die down out there anytime soon,” he said. “Why don’t we change out of these soaked clothes.”
She clutched her hands onto the shirt’s front. “You just want to get me naked.”
“I’d like that very much. Right now, though, I don’t have ulterior motives. We don’t want you catching cold on top of everything else. I’m sure we can find something suitable in here.”
He opened the top drawer of the dresser and pulled out an oversized T-shirt. Shaw tossed it toward Lucia.
“Catch.”
She snatched the clothing out of the air and held it in front of her—fingertips on the shoulders and stretching it out. Lucia let go of one corner and twirled her finger.
“Turn around,” she instructed.
Without watching, he heard her zipper sliding down, and material hitting the floor. Never had a sound been so enticing, so alluring. For a few minutes, he wanted to forget about what he should do, and focus on what he wanted to do.
She was a fool. She should have gone to the hospital. Guilt plagued her, but she knew it wasn’t warranted. What did they need her for, though? Almost everyone else had taken off. Someone needed to stay back and tend to the land.
She should be thinking about what needed to be done and any last minute fixes for the storm. Instead, she kept focusing on what it would be like to kiss him, now, alone, with the knowledge that no one would be around soon to interrupt them. Kissing him would lead to more. She wasn’t kidding herself. She wanted to tear off his clothes, and hers, and see if she could get him to lose his cool.
What would it take to unhinge the steadfast agent? Being near him made her entire body vibrate. Each touch, intentional or not, hummed through her limbs. If only she made him feel the same way.
After unzipping her jeans, she accented the sound of the material sliding down her body and dropping to the floo
r. She swore she saw his body tense at the suggestion.
“Now, how about you?”
A chill hung in the air, causing all her exposed flesh to sing with the sense of being alive. She pressed her body against his back and wrapped her arms around him. Every inch she touched was a hard plane of muscle. No external softness, but internally he’d already shown how he cared. He didn’t just stick to the job. He let his emotions wreck havoc with his conscience. At least that was her interpretation.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting to know you, just a little better.”
Her arms, she wrapped around his stomach, sliding up under his shirt, and appreciating every inch of flesh. The skin pebbled beneath her fingertips. Liking it, eh?
“You may get a bit more than you bargained for,” he warned. He placed his hands over hers and stilled her exploration.
“What’s the matter? Are you not used to a woman taking charge?” For emphasis, she reached between his legs, cupping his balls, before gliding her hand up and down over the material to rub the length of his hardness.
“Whoa, there.” He stood on tiptoe, backing into her embrace. “God, that feels good.”
She moved her hands back to his stomach, then slipped toward his belt buckle and undid the button of his jeans. Once loose, she grasped his enlarged cock. “What do we have here?”
He sucked in a breath. “You know.”
“Oh, I do indeed. But this…” she squeezed him for emphasis. “Means you’re liking what I’m doing, so if you try to stop whatever is taking place, it means you’re a liar.”
“And if I don’t stop you?”
“Well, not only do you like what I’m doing, but you also believe that it’ll happen,” she said.
Hands inside the denim, she pushed the jeans down, feeling the strong calf muscles flex under her fingertips. They hit the floor and he stepped out of them. With the softest touch, she danced her fingers across his bare skin, amazed at the strength of his physique. Oh, he looked strong. But hands on his body, he was hard steel. She sought the point she most wanted to touch—the smooth, rounded tip of his equally hard cock.
