Bulletproof Heart

by Sheryl Lynn

  “I want to make sure.”

  “If I go barging in on him and Claude, he’ll think I’m babying him. I don’t want to make him mad. He might go looking for Tuff just to spite me.”

  Reb nodded east. “To the edge of the trees, then. We can see Claude’s cabin from there. If we see Joey’s horse, we won’t go any farther.”

  His worry showed in his face. He cared about Joey. Warm gratitude replaced some of the fear in her chest. Closemouthed or not, Reb Tremaine was a good man with a big heart.

  “Only to the edge of the trees.” She clucked her tongue and put her heels to Strawberry’s sides.

  Up the ridge Reb kept Jack to a slow pace. The big gelding picked his careful way up the rocky path. Water from the morning fog dripped off the trees and turned the pine straw black, as if it had been burned. Emily kept her gaze fixed on the ground, mindful of the treacherous footing. Copper trotted alongside, his ears pricked forward and his nose working busily, drawing in scent.

  Once over the ridge, the trail narrowed and dropped steeply. Emily hung on tightly to the saddle horn and braced her feet against the stirrups. Up ahead Jack seemed to glide down the path, his rider easy in the saddle.

  When they were on level ground, Jack broke into a lazy lope. Emily gritted her teeth in anticipation of Strawberry’s jarring trot; the mare didn’t disappoint her. Her hooves thudded against the hard pack, each jolt whomping up Emily’s spine.

  Reb glanced over his shoulder and did a double take. He hauled back the reins, slowing Jack to a walk. When Strawberry slowed, too, Emily groaned in relief. Catching the look on Reb’s face, she hung her head.

  “I’m not a very good rider.” She patted Strawberry’s neck to show her no hard feelings. “When I was a little girl, I was terrified of horses. I don’t know why. It embarrassed Grandpa no end having a granddaughter who wouldn’t compete in rodeos or help with the cattle.” She smiled sheepishly. “So now you know my deepest, darkest secret. I’m a rancher who can’t ride. Don’t laugh at me, okay?”

  “I’m not laughing,” he said solemnly. “It takes courage to do something you hate.”

  “I’m not courageous, trust me. Just stubborn.” Realizing Copper had disappeared, she looked around. “Speaking of stubborn, did you see where my dog went?”

  “Sorry.”

  She guessed the dog had figured out she was headed for Claude’s and he’d retreated. Claude’s border collie tolerated no trespassers—especially not Copper.

  They reached the edge of the forest. The land opened onto rolling hills marked by dark green knots of scrub oak and granite boulders that looked like monstrous eggs half-buried in the dirt. Claude’s cabin, the original ranch house for the Double Bar R, perched on a low hill. Thin blue smoke curled out of the stone chimney. Joey’s horse cropped grass in the small yard beside the cabin.

  Relief drained Emily’s energy. She slumped on the saddle and closed her eyes.

  “What about Claude? Will Tuff go to him for help?” Reb asked.

  “No way. Claude doesn’t like Tuff any better than he likes me.” She chuckled. “Joey’s fine. He’s probably eating those sorry biscuits Claude is so proud of baking. And drinking his coffee. Have you tasted Claude’s coffee yet?”

  An almost imperceptible wince rippled through his broad shoulders. She guessed he had tasted Claude’s syrupy, bitter brew. She reached for Reb, and placed her fingers against the sleeve of his denim jacket. “Thank you for coming with me. Thank you for caring about my brother. And about me.”

  “No problem.”

  He sounded uncomfortable, so she let the matter rest and turned Strawberry toward home. She rode a few yards before realizing Reb didn’t follow. He stared at something to the south. Under the shade of his hat brim, his face appeared carved from stone.

  “What is it? What do you see?”

  “A vehicle parked on the main road. I can see the back end of it through the trees.”

  “It’s probably a police car. That’s the only road leading into the ranch.” She rode to his side. By standing in the stirrups, she could see a glint of chrome and white-painted metal shining through the trees. “It’s a car from the sheriff’s office,” she announced. “That’s the only way a vehicle can get onto the property. Too many washouts and ridges block other ways. It’s a roadblock.”

  “I don’t like this.”

  His comment puzzled her. It brought back her suspicion Reb was in some sort of trouble with the law. Straightening her spine, she said, “Look, if you’re in some sort of trouble, you have to tell me. I have a right to know if I’m harboring a fugitive. Please tell me the truth, Reb.”

  He flashed a grin. “No fugitive, ma’am.”

  She wanted to believe him. “What’s the matter?”

  “I’ve taken part in posses before.”

  “You have? Because you were a hunting guide?”

  He nodded. “Jailbirds are like homing pigeons. They head back to the roost. If it were me, I’d be sweeping every inch of this ranch and posting a lot more than one patrol car on the road. What did the sheriff tell-you last night? Did he say if anyone helped Tuff break out?”

  “The only thing he said was to keep the doors locked. Tuff wouldn’t dare come back here.” A sickening thought occurred to her. Joey had visited Tuff in jail, and Mickey had been unfriendly when he’d returned to the house last night. He’d refused to answer her questions. He hadn’t even flirted with her. Did he think Joey had helped Tuff make his escape?

  “Tuff will come back if he thinks it’s worth the risk,” Reb said.

  She gave his comment careful consideration. Joey is worth the risk. Worried anew, she studied Claude’s cabin, seeking signs of life behind the window glass.

  “The duffel bag,” Reb said.

  “Not a chance. Tuff is way too smart to risk getting shot over a duffel bag. No matter what’s inside it.”

  “So why did he escape?”

  “Because…” Darn good question. Tuff hadn’t been suffering in Mickey’s jail. He’d had hot meals, a comfortable cot, unlimited television and visitors. Besides, his sentence was almost up. “Do you think Joey told him I’m searching the forest?”

  “Somebody did,” Reb answered gravely.

  “So he escaped in order to stop me.”

  “Can you think of a better reason?”

  Nothing came to mind. Strawberry shuffled her hooves and strained against the bit. Emily patted the mare’s neck absently, ruffling her brushy mane.

  Reb looked around at the ground. “Tough land. Bedrock a few inches under the soil. Tuff needed a shovel and pickax to bury the duffel bag. And it’s dangerous to negotiate the forest in the middle of the night.”

  Emily forced herself to continue. “Even if we found Mullow’s body on the ranch, it would still be my word against Tuff’s as to how it got here.”

  She turned her sights west, seeing in her mind’s eye the forest on the far side of the creek. “If the bag is full of drugs, how much would it be worth?” She remembered Mullow as he hoisted the duffel bag. A man with bulky shoulders and massive arms, but he’d struggled under the weight.

  “Could be worth thousands,” Reb said evenly. “Millions.”

  She tightened the reins and turned Strawberry toward the road. “I have to make Mickey listen to me now. He can arrange for drug-sniffing dogs. They can stake out the—”

  “Stop.”

  The soft-spoken command halted her in her tracks. Strawberry gave a little hop and swiveled her ears.

  “Don’t trust the sheriff,” Reb said.

  She laughed. “Oh, come on!” A hunch said Reb was jealous of Mickey. The idea pleased her as much as she thought it was ridiculous. “I can’t say I approve of all Mickey’s methods, but he’s completely trustworthy.”

  “Do you trust him not to confiscate your ranch?”

  She scowled in confusion. A strand of hair had worked loose from her braid, and she pushed it off her neck. Reb returned her scowl with an inscrut
able neutrality she found annoying. “What are you talking about?”

  He crossed his forearms on the saddle horn and leaned against them. His blue eyes gleamed with solemn light. “If illegal drugs are found on a property, drug agents can confiscate the property automatically. Even if no arrests are made. Drug-enforcement agencies are having a field day raking in fancy cars and boats. And homes.”

  “Whatever’s in that duffel bag isn’t mine.”

  “Prove it. Government agents are determined to do their jobs. They take the property, then figure out who the players are.”

  “It’s not right,” she said, her indignation rising. “They can’t do that.”

  “Right or wrong, they can and they do.”

  She shook her head fiercely. “No. Mickey wouldn’t do that to me. He knows me and he knows I’d never mess around with anything illegal.” Even as she spoke, she wondered if she knew the sheriff as well as she thought. After the little scene last night, his attitude about her couldn’t be all that generous.

  “It might be out of his hands. The federal agencies have a lot of power in these matters.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  He lifted a shoulder in a lazy shrug. “I’ve seen agents in action. When I guided hunters in national forests, I always had to be on the lookout for marijuana crops and drop points. Stumbling into one is a good way to get killed.”

  “So what am I supposed to do? If I can’t trust Mickey, who can I trust?”

  “Trust me.”

  She averted her face, but still heard the echoes of Me…me…me…trust me. She did trust him. He was her friend. “I never wanted any of this, Reb. I just wanted to come home, get my bearings and pull my life back together. Everything is going wrong. If I lose the ranch, I’ll lose Joey, too. He won’t blame Tuff, he’ll blame me.”

  Reb urged Jack to move head to tail with Strawberry. He picked up Emily’s hand and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Let’s just try to find the duffel bag ourselves, then we’ll figure out what to do.” Reb sighed. “If Tuff’s caught on your ranch with the duffel bag and if it’s full of drugs, the Feds could still confiscate your property. The ranch is in your name.

  You’re supposed to be responsible for whatever happens around here. They could prosecute you as an accessory. I don’t think they can make charges stick, but you’ll end up selling the ranch to pay the legal fees.”

  He smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to scare you. When we find the bag, we could take it off the ranch, dump it on the road and then call in an anonymous tip to the authorities.” He waggled his eyebrows. “They love covert stuff.”

  “We don’t know for sure it is drugs,” she said, gazing at Reb. Definitely an angel, she determined. He’d appeared when she needed him most, when she was at the limits of her mental and emotional resources. Gratitude welled within her like a warm tide, filling her to overflowing. “I’ll do anything to protect Joey and the ranch. I trust you, Reb.” She squeezed his hand.

  He glanced at their entwined fingers, frowned and turned her loose. “Let’s go. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

  She lifted her gaze to the glowering sky. Clouds shrouded the mountains. The breeze cutting through the trees had a bite to it, carrying the scent of rain. She set her heels to Strawberry’s sides. The mare stepped out, her hooves nnging on small rocks.

  Back at the house, she left a note for Joey telling him where she and Reb were going. Since the horses were already saddled and warm, she and Reb rode across the creek to the forest. At the tree line she studied the strips of red rag that marked the areas they’d already searched. She may as well set out a big sign for Tuff: Here I Am, Bro, Looking For Your Goodies. Come Shoot Me!

  On foot, making good use of probes, they resumed the methodical search. The going was hard, mostly uphill, and rock formations meant they climbed as much as they walked. Copper made periodic appearances to see if Emily was doing anything interesting. Then he would trot away to follow a deer trail or chase a tufted-eared squirrel.

  Around noon the clouds covered the sky and blotted out the surrounding mountain peaks. Moisture gathered on leaves and darkened the ground. Chilly air made Emily shiver inside her nylon coat. She dropped onto a boulder overhanging a small spring. Full of minerals, the spring pool had a crystalline quality, and the air smelled tangy. White clumps of crystals glittered around the edge of the pool. The water was tepid, warmed by its source deep below the ground.

  Reb leaned against a tree trunk and idly twirled his broomstick probe, making circular patterns in the dirt. The shotgun resting near his feet gave her a measure of confidence. That warm tide of gratitude washed through her again. She wondered what life might be like if Reb stayed on and made the ranch his home. “Do you think we’ll find the duffel bag before Tuff does?”

  “His advantage is he knows where to look. Our advantage is the cops are looking for him.” He pushed away from the tree, picked up the shotgun and, with a graceful hop, joined her on the boulder. He sat beside her and stretched out his legs.

  “This is hopeless. The more ground we cover, the more we have left. What if the police track him here?”

  Reb tossed a pebble at the pool, watching as the rings spread. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  His tone of voice made her scalp prickle. Here it comes, she thought with a rise of panic. A sudden premonition told her after sunrise tomorrow, she’d never see him again.

  “I—”

  “Wait!” She twisted and placed her fingertips against his lips. “Wait a minute,” she whispered. She studied the hard, straight line of his cheeks and the lines etched into his forehead and the way the reflection from the pool put greenish lights in his eyes.

  “I know what you’re going to say.” She reluctantly pulled her hand away from his face.

  “No…”

  “Before you say anything, I need you to know something first.” Unable to bear the brilliance of his gaze, she turned her eyes to the pool. “I lost my husband and Grandpa, two men I loved very, very much. Now I feel Joey slipping away from me. I don’t know how to reach him. It’s hard trying not to think I’m being punished. It’s really hard to remember life goes on and will probably get better.” She placed her hand atop his. “I don’t know you very well, Reb, but I feel close to you anyway. When you’re around, I don’t feel so…alone.”

  “Emily, wait.”

  She shook her head. “I need you to know you’ve made things better for me. And I’m grateful. And I’m…” Falling in love? “I know you’re only passing through. A year from now you probably won’t even remember my name. But I’ll never forget you.” She made herself face him. “You’ve helped me remember I can be strong. Even though you’re only going to be here a little while, I’m glad you’re here. You mean a lot to me.”

  That said, she felt drained, but lighter somehow.

  “Ah, Emily.”

  “I know you’re leaving me. I don’t know why, but you don’t have to explain if you don’t want to. Maybe it’s better if you don’t.”

  His eyebrows had lowered; the corners of his mouth turned down. She sensed she’d hurt his feelings, but couldn’t imagine why. She shifted uncomfortably on the rock.

  “That is what you’re going to say, isn’t it? You need to leave?”

  Unable to bear his silence pressing around her like a blanketing fog, she laid her hand against his cheek and kissed him.

  Chapter Nine

  Emily loved kissing Reb. He touched only her mouth; his hands remained still. She adored the wet, strong, passionate thrust of his tongue and the supple press of his lips. His hot, masculine scent intoxicated her. She rubbed her fingertips over his cheek, savoring the rasp of midday beard and the movement of muscle under his cheek.

  One night, she told him with her kiss. She wanted more, so much more, a chance to start anew and a chance at forever. But one night would sustain her. One night in his arms, one night of his love, one night of memories to
cherish forever.

  She started to pull away, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her lightly. They kissed and kissed, and she drowned in sweet sensation. He lowered her to the rock so she rested against his arm. A soft clunk accompanied him setting down the shotgun and he held her, his fingers clutching her above the waistband of her jeans.

  Her body shed weariness. Worries and fears dropped away one by one until the only thing that mattered was Reb. His lips claiming hers, his tongue engaged with hers in a tender duel of thrust and parry, the solid strength of his arm around her shoulders, the smell of him, the taste of rain-freshness and mansweat.

  When he finally came up for air, she opened her eyes. Her eyelids felt weighted. Air swirled within her, each breath capricious and quick. Desire darkened his eyes. Never had she seen such beautiful eyes. She could stare forever into his eyes, imagining the thoughts behind them.

  She loved him.

  Not the way she’d loved Daniel. Theirs had been a comfortable kind of love. A settled love. The type of love built over time in shared tasks and a life without secrets.

  Reb’s love was only for today. It jumbled her up inside and made her thoughts flitter to match her fluttering heart. It scared her and filled her with joy. Even knowing tomorrow would break her heart, she felt happy.

  “This isn’t a good idea,” he said, his tone mournful.

  “Probably not.” She reached upward for another kiss, but he drew his head aside. She rested against his arm. “You are leaving, aren’t you? Moving on.”

  “It has to happen, Emily.”

  “I know.” Give me time, she silently urged him. A day or a week or a month, long enough to show him being settled didn’t mean being bored. Enough time to prove happiness wasn’t always waiting in the next town.

  He dotted her cheek with a bird-swift kiss, then pulled them both upright and turned her loose. He drew in his legs, his boot heels scraping on the rock. “There are things about me you don’t know.”