Heartstealer (Women of Character3 (16 page)

She whirled around with her hand to
her chest. "I didn’t see you there. I’m about ready to jump
out of my skin. I must have dozed off and got an hour or two of sleep."

He reached forward and gently
cupped her cheek. "I’m not going to let anything happen to you
Jacie. I stayed close to your tent most of the night."

She swallowed, touched by his
concern. "You didn’t get any sleep at all, did you?"

He shrugged it off. "Right now
I’ve got other priorities." He moved toward the portable grill on
the back of the truck tailgate and retrieved a pan of boiling water.

"Coffee?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Sorry, it’s only
instant today."

"That’s fine." She
looked around, stretching, feeling cramped muscles protest. The morning air was
quite cool and she shivered as she accepted a cup of coffee with a murmur of
thanks. "Is anyone else up?"

"James. Donny and Michelle are
around here somewhere."

"That was really well done,
you know, the way you put Donny at ease last night." She felt she had to
tell him that. "Anyone else might have jumped down his throat."

"Donny’s a good
kid."

"So, you’re going to
tell the rest of the party what’s going on?"

"We have to. They should be
aware of what’s been found. I’m still hoping for an easier
explanation than the one that’s been running through my head all
night."

She felt the tension build up
again. It had been a pressure in her chest since the night before. "I
know, I’ve been trying to figure this entire thing out too. It’s
making me crazy." She traced the rim of her coffee cup. "I’m
really sorry and that’s so inadequate. If it turns out this is my fault
in some way, I hope I haven’t done harm to Timber Falls."

"It’s not your
fault," he said gruffly. "You didn’t ask for this to happen.
We’ll get it figured out."

Before it’s too late. He
didn’t say the words but they were inside her head and she read them in
the grimness of his expression.

She heard the murmur of voices. The
others were beginning to stir. She looked at him, not envying him the next half
hour.

After a quick breakfast Sloan and
James gathered everyone together and showed them the syringe and needle. She
watched the varying reactions of horror and concern and was certain no one in
their group was involved, yet she felt a measure of relief when they finally
packed to leave.

"How are you holding up, Jacie?"
James asked.

She managed a laugh, but she didn't
know how convincing it sounded. "I'll be fine."

"We’re worried about
you, Jacie. We’re getting the authorities involved. There have been too
many coincidences."

She nodded. "I know and none
of it makes sense."

"We're not taking any chances.
It's almost time to leave so if you want to see the lakes before we head out
Sloan is going to take the group. It's about a five-minute walk."

She placed the last of her gear
beside her bedroll. She looked over at the rest of the group gathered by the
horse corral and thought they looked pretty subdued.

"Jacie." She looked up as
Sloan joined her. "This has been a poor introduction to our mountains, I'm
afraid."

"We couldn't know there's some
kind of crazy out there." She hugged her arms around herself.

"It gets my back up that we
don't know anything," he said grimly.

She sensed he wouldn’t back
away from a tough situation. Unbidden, the thought intruded...there was a world
of difference between he and Brad. He didn't like anyone messing around on his
territory. When she’d got hurt, Brad had virtually disappeared and left
her to fend for herself.

"Are you coming to see the
lakes?" he asked abruptly, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"I wouldn't miss it." She
forced a bright smile to her mouth. She looked around at the somber group and
on sudden inspiration clapped her hands several times. "Come on everyone,
it's not the end of the world. Maybe there’s an innocent explanation
here. Let’s not assume the worst." With determination, she joined
the others. "I would love to see the lakes, but I haven't the foggiest
idea which way to go!"

Sloan, watching her, took over as
if on cue. "Come on, everyone, I'll show you the path."

She began to breathe easier as they
walked in single file behind him. Third in line, she watched him forge ahead,
admiring his broad back and long legs. The man possessed a potent sexuality she
couldn't ignore. His concern was touching, but there was still a possibility
the explanation was quite simple. She shook her head at her own naiveté.
And maybe there wasn’t.

In the past, her
leap-before-you-look attitude had at times led her into trouble. For a moment
she wondered if Sloan was the next bit of trouble she was heading into. She
stifled a groan and decided sometimes the trouble was worth it.

The wind seemed to suddenly pick
up. The branches of the evergreens around them swayed and dipped the further
they went.

"Watch out for your eyes and
face." He held back a heavy branch as one by one they moved along weather-beaten
rock. They came to a small, clear ledge and she swept an appreciative look at
the twin lakes lying far below them. She lifted her camera and zoomed in on the
scene.

"The trees are so short and
twisted," she murmured. They clung to bare rock, their roots reaching out
like gnarled, arthritic fingers. They reminded her of the trees outside her
cabin window.

"Up here, they don't seem to
have much chance to grow, yet they've adapted," MaryAnn mused.

"All it takes is one
determined seed or vine," Sloan said.

"If the conditions are right
anything can adapt," she said.

"Sometimes," Sloan
conceded.

As the rest of the group meandered
back along the path she buttoned her flannel shirt and hunched her shoulders
against the wind. "I'll catch up in a few minutes," she said.

Sloan looked ready to argue, then
he nodded and led the group back into the trees.

She sat on the smooth rock and
dangled her feet over the edge, closing her eyes as the wind hit her face. It
was exhilarating. . .it was peaceful and she let the feelings fill her totally.
Voices died away and she was alone.

Suddenly aware she wasn’t
alone, she looked behind her and saw Sloan circling back toward her. A deep
yearning clutched her. Quickly, she swiped at a lone tear. "The wind is
making my eyes tear," she said. She looked back to the view. "You
kept your promise," she said, raising her voice.

"What promise?" he was
close beside her, his husky voice in her ear.

"The view...you promised a
great view."

"I never renege on
promises." He indicated the lakes below them. "So, was it worth
it?"

Without hesitation she gave him a
provocative smile. "It's always worth it."

He squatted beside her. The feel of
his fingertips against her cheek felt right, causing a tremble to begin in her
shoulders. His hand cupped her chin, guided her face around to him. She met the
intensity of his eyes and swallowed hard. He said something low, but it was
lost against the wind.

Closing her eyes, she acknowledged
the power of his touch over her. He elicited responses in her, responses she
reveled in. Her lips lifted, met his hardness, his gentleness, the wonderful
heat of his mouth. It was an experience like no other, as elemental as the wind
whirling bits of leaves and dust just beyond the ledge. She felt as if they
were closeted in their own world, the moment of tenderness forever imprinted in
her mind. How many others had come to this place, she wondered, with someone
special.

Sloan abruptly pushed himself back
away from her and retrieved his hat. He pushed the hat down on his head and
stood. Lips which had made love to her for an erotic moment now pressed
together in a grim line.

She wondered what made him look so
bleak. Did his thoughts mirror her own... that they were from two different
worlds, and any encounter between them would never be more than brief?

Sloan stared at Jacie and fought
the struggle within. The expression on her face looked so expectant, as if she
wanted something more from him. Part of him longed to bring her over to the bed
of ferns beneath the pines and forget about everything else. God! He wanted to
make love to her. The urge was so strong, so vital; it took him several moments
before he could control it.

"Should I say I'm sorry?"
he asked unexpectedly. His hands shook so he shoved them into his pockets.

"Are you?" With her head
thrown back he could see the vulnerable skin of her throat.

He admired her brass and nerve. He
shook his head and felt himself smile. "No, Jacie, I'm not sorry I kissed
you. There's something about you..." He let himself take in the full
wonder of her, head to toe, all too aware of the reaction of his body. Ruefully,
he admitted, "Sometimes, like now, I find I can't help myself, but I know
we're opposites," he added. "Come on, it's time to go," he
reminded her.

Without answering she drew her
knees up and circled her legs with her arms.

"Jacie." He struggled and
almost gave in to what he wanted. He wanted to let her get close, let her see
what was inside his head. She looked alone sitting on the ledge, the wind
whipping her hair around her head. Dammit, he wanted to protect her, make her
happy instead of forlorn.

"I'll be there in a
minute."

He walked away and each step he
told himself he was doing the right thing. People like Jacie didn't settle down
to a normal home life. They hankered after the next illusion of a rainbow,
whether there was one there or not. He knew it too well. Up until the time his
mother had died he had seen her break his father's heart time and again. He
didn't want a life that involved that kind of heartache.

He waited for her just out of
sight. He was afraid that long after she had left Timber Falls a part of him
would be empty without her.

Ω

Jacie jogged to the horse barn
early the next morning. Unlike most mornings, the air was already warm. It felt
like it might be a hot day later on. A vehicle with large plastic boxes affixed
to either side of the truck bed was parked outside the barn. There was a name
lettered in black, followed by D.V.M. on the door. The veterinarian had arrived
to check on the horse Dandy.

She walked into the cool barn, her
running shoes quiet on the packed dirt floor. As she drew closer to a cluster
of box stalls, she heard voices.

"Doesn't sound good, Sloan.
Someone might have done this deliberately," an unfamiliar voice said.

"That's what I was afraid you
would say," Sloan said.

She came to a standstill in the
barn aisle.

"Let's not jump to any
conclusions. I'll call you as soon as I get the blood test back and the results
from the syringe. Once we know what we're dealing with, we'll take it from
there.

"As for the horse, even though
the affects seem to have worn off, I don't want him ridden and make sure anyone
working around him uses caution."

"I'll take care of him myself,
Tim. I can't believe someone would try something like this. How could this
happen!" Sloan sounded furious.

"No ideas?" the other
voice asked.

She heard a stall door open and saw
Sloan and a tall blond-haired man exit a box stall at the end of the aisle.

"I've never had a problem with
anyone tampering with the horses." They hadn’t seen her yet.
"I'm as stumped as you, Tim."

The bag of carrots she carried
slipped from her fingers and fell to the barn floor. Both men turned.

"Jacie," Sloan said. He
looked none too pleased to see her.

The man he’d called Tim said,
"Hi...Jacie, isn't it?" He stepped forward, a smile on his lean,
attractive face as he held out a hand. "I'm Tim Wells. We're just about
finished here if you’re looking for Sloan."

She shook his hand and introduced
herself. Seeing no reason not to jump in, she said, "I couldn't help but
overhear your conversation."

Tim looked at Sloan, then back at
her.

"So you think someone did
something to my horse the other day?"

"The behavior Sloan told me
about could be caused by numerous factors, one of which could be a chemical
reaction to certain drugs. I don't want to speculate. I'd feel better with the
test results in my hand. It could have been something as simple as a bee
sting."

That explanation gave her a slight
rise in spirits but then she wondered if she was just fooling herself. Tim
turned back to Sloan. "If the chestnut horse is the only one I have to see
today, I'll be on my way."

Sloan held out his hand to the
other man. "I appreciate you getting here so quickly. Let me know as soon
as you have the results."

"I'll call you, although with
the weekend coming up, it might be next week." He nodded at her and then
walked down the aisle and out the barn.

Sloan turned to her.
"Eavesdropping?" he asked, his mouth tilted at one corner.

She looked at him with wide eyes
and let out her breath. "Not on purpose, but eavesdropping has its
uses," she said without apology. "What was that about?"

"He drew some blood but we
won't know anything until next week."

"But you suspect
something," she said. "And it has to do with that syringe." She
reached up a hand to grip the iron bars on one of the box stalls. "Tell me
I'm being paranoid and that this has nothing to do with me."

He moved down the barn aisle as the
veterinarian had done. When he was about three feet past her, he turned back.
Rubbing a hand along the back of his neck, he muttered a curse. "No,
you're not being paranoid. I think this does have to do with you. At first I
thought someone was trying to get at the resort, but I have this feeling
it’s you this is all aimed at."