Rocky Mountain Lawman (18 page)

But for now it was just fine with her to live in the spell of the moment. Time enough later to deal with all the hard edges.

“I should feed us,” he remarked. “Make us some coffee. Find something to cover you. Rebuild the fire.”

She listened to the list and didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. She didn’t want him to move away. She didn’t want food, and the cabin was still warm enough.

Lying naked with him, all tangled together, felt incredibly good and she didn’t want to let go of the feeling.

Apparently he didn’t either, because he stirred only to wrap them closer together.

The ceaseless rain continued to hammer on the roof, making Sky feel as if they were ensconced in a cozy cocoon. Having Craig wrapped around her only enhanced that feeling.

“I could get used to this,” she remarked.

“Me, too. Too bad life doesn’t operate that way.”

“Well, sooner or later we’ll
have
to get up.”

He laughed quietly. “We’d look pretty funny mummified like this.”

She laughed, too, experiencing for the first time in her life being able to laugh with her lover after sex. It added to the glow she was feeling, and she wished she could hang on to these moments forever. Knowing that couldn’t be, she tried to engrave them permanently in her memory, the sound of the rain, the smell of the cabin, the way her skin felt all over, the way he felt against her, his strength.... Oh, she hoped she would never forget even the least detail.

He turned toward her, sprinkling kisses on her shoulder. “And with that, darlin’, I’m going to have to get up. Some things just can’t wait. But don’t run away. I have devilish plans for later.”

She hated to let go of him, and when he rose, she didn’t want to move. He went to his saddlebags in the corner, and pulled out a flannel shirt. With a smile, he spread it over her. “I hated to do that, but you may not have noticed it’s getting chilly in here.”

It was, and he was right, she hadn’t noticed until he’d removed his heat from beside her. That man was practically a furnace.

He tossed some more wood into the stove, then, much to her dismay, began to dress. “Dusty,” he said. “I didn’t give him much of a chance to stretch earlier, and by now he’s probably run around the corral enough to have six inches of mud on each hoof.”

The things she didn’t think of. Sitting up, clutching the shirt around her for warmth, she watched him finish dressing, then head outside as he pulled on his slicker.

She realized she needed to do something, too. The idea of lazing all evening was an attractive one, but not one suited to her. Even when she was holding still, she needed to accomplish something, usually painting, sometimes reading.

She dressed, opened her art case and pulled out a sketch pad and some charcoal. She might not be able to paint in this light, but she could draw.

Almost before she knew it, she was sketching Dusty and Craig as they had appeared the first time she saw them. Quick lines created the shapes and the feeling of movement. She propped the pad up and stepped away from it, debating whether to add shadows and more detail, or leave it minimalist.

Right now it looked like a quick Picasso sketch, though of course she would not put herself in that kind of class. Picasso had a magic she could only wish for.

She decided to go for more detail. Why not? She had time and it would occupy her far better than sitting here thinking of newly budding hopes and dreams that scared her.

She had to be practical. For all she was enough of a dreamer to pursue her art, she remained at heart quite practical in dealing with most things. Practicality said she was enjoying a marvelous interlude that had to end. She could enjoy it, but she didn’t dare lose sight of the very real limits on these days.

She carried her pad back to the table, pulled the one burning oil lamp closer and picked up her charcoal. As soon as she began to fill in more detail, she drifted away from her surroundings into a creative surge. She might as well have gone deaf, and was blind to everything except the sketch in front of her. She loved these times when art just took over, making her feel more like a conduit than a creator.

“That’s really amazing.” Craig’s voice startled her out of her preoccupation. She blinked, amazed to find he was once again inside with her.

“I didn’t even hear you come in!”

“So I gathered.” He’d already dumped his slicker and moved until he stood over her shoulder. “Hope you don’t mind.”

But she did. She didn’t like people to look at her work before it was done, and she truly hated to work with someone peering over her shoulder. Still, she didn’t want to tell him to get lost. The mood was broken anyway.

“That’s really phenomenal,” he said. “So few lines and you captured so much.”

Pleasure touched her. “Thank you. But it’s not done.” She began to put her charcoal back in the box, and Craig moved away.

“I’m sorry I interrupted you,” he said.

Something in his tone dispelled the last of her fog. “What were you supposed to do? Stand out in the rain? It’s okay.”

He reached for the coffeepot and began to refill it.

She stared at his back, wondering if he’d caught her momentary irritation at the interruption or the way she’d felt when he’d looked over her shoulder.

Seeing him respond this way after what they had shared such a short time ago hurt. An almost physical pain speared her. “Craig? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I bothered you, and I’m sorry.”

It sounded like nothing, but it didn’t feel like nothing. She continued to stare at his back and wondered how to deal with this. A sense of near desperation filled her, but she didn’t know if she was overreacting. Maybe she was assuming he was troubled when he wasn’t. Hector, she was discovering, was a bad guide.

Finally she said the only thing she could think of to try to get a conversation rolling. “Craig, I’m sorry.”

He turned immediately. “For what?” He looked genuinely surprised.

“For...I don’t know. Making you feel unwelcome?”

“Aw, hell,” he said quietly. He rounded the small table in two strides and sat beside her on the bench, wrapping his arms around her. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“But I felt...like you were offended by something I did.”

He shook his head, catching her chin so that she had to look into his face. “I wasn’t offended. I felt bad because I interrupted what you were doing. I felt bad when I realized that looking over your shoulder made you tense. I mean, idiot that I am, I know that looking over someone’s shoulder isn’t always a good thing to do. But I wasn’t thinking. I was so struck by what you were drawing....”

He leaned in and kissed her hard. “I won’t look over your shoulder again.”

She seemed to have lost her breath. After a beat or two she rediscovered her voice. “It
does
bother me when I’m working,” she admitted. “I’m used to being alone most of the time when I paint or draw. But you have nothing to apologize for.”

“Then let’s forget it. I’m not offended and I won’t look over your shoulder again without an invitation.”

She answered his smile with one of her own. “How’s Dusty?”

“Like I thought, he’d picked up a lot of mud. We took care of that. Tomorrow I’m going to bring some hay out here. A thick layer of it will allow the vegetation to grow back and keep his hooves dry if he has to be out there again. But right now? He’s okay for right now.”

“Good. I like Dusty.”

“I think he likes you, too. I don’t, however, think he likes this weather much. He may be tame, but I don’t think he’s truly domesticated, if you get my drift.”

“Not exactly.”

“Well, he’s a great horse and a great companion. But he’s also used to spending hours every day roaming this forest. He’s not your corral sort of horse.”

“Ah. What about the winter?”

“We still spend a lot of time out here, unless it gets brutally cold or we get a blizzard. You should see how shaggy his coat gets. I swear he’s half woolly mammoth.”

She finally released the last of the tension, a tension that she had built herself out of pieces of her previous relationship. She needed to be wary of that. She certainly ought to know as well as anyone just how much past experience could color the present.

They made sandwiches again for dinner and sat facing each other at the table.

“We need to go to town early tomorrow,” he said.

“What for?”

“Um, how about food? And ice? And maybe one of Maude’s fantastic breakfasts?”

“And hay,” she reminded him. “But what about Dusty? You don’t want him to stay in the corral another day.”

“He won’t. I’ll either ride him down to HQ or we can lead him with the truck. They have a bigger corral down there and after the fifteen-mile walk it won’t seem so bad to him. He’ll probably even get to see a few of his friends.”

“Do horses have friends?”

“Believe it. They’re herd animals. Every so often they need to socialize with their own kind. God knows what they talk about. How irritating we are in the saddle? Who’s got a better rider? Whether the hay is fresh or the oats good?”

She laughed. “I wish I could listen in.”

“Sometimes I just wish I could read their tail flicks and their ears better. I swear, a horse can express volumes with his ears.”

“And their eyes,” she said, remembering how Dusty had looked at her when he decided she was okay. “Your horse has the most expressive eyes.”

She almost added
as do you,
but when she met his gaze the fire she saw there rendered her breathless. As if passion had been waiting patiently in the wings, it burst forth onto center stage.

Later she would have only the haziest memory of how they came to be lying naked together on the sleeping bags. She would only vaguely recall them pulling at each other’s clothing, not even remember the moment when they tumbled to the floor.

But she would never, ever forget his weight on her and the powerful way he drove into her, as if he wanted to bury himself completely inside her. She would never forget the spasms of hunger and finally delight that ripped through her. Nor would she ever forget how he managed to bring her to the peak and topple her over the edge repeatedly.

And she would always remember how, later, they slowed down and made love again, taking their time with each touch and caress and kiss, until he lifted her over him. Or how it felt to ride him to the stars.

Those things became branded in her heart.

Chapter 13

D
awn brought a perfectly clear sky with light so breathtaking and crystalline that Sky ached to paint. Craig had managed to distract her for a while—well, it was easy now that she had discovered just how good sex could be—but finally there was no escaping the day’s requirements. He kissed her over and over again, as if he didn’t want to let go, and she pretty much felt the same way.

Except that letting go was inevitable. Impending sorrow lanced her heart but she tried not to let it show. If there was one thing she had learned, life was what it was, and sometimes it hurt like hell.

She reminded herself that he had asked how long she could stay, but he hadn’t even hinted that he didn’t expect this to end. It was just a fling. She needed to keep that in mind and simply enjoy it for what it was. Living in the moment was a skill she had learned in Iraq. Looking forward and looking back changed nothing, enhanced fears and pain, and made you miss the good things right in front of you.

“I’m taking my car,” she said as they left the cabin. She carried her painting kit.

“Why? I can bring you back after the shopping.”

She shook her head. “I’ll meet you here later. This light...I can’t waste this light, Craig.”

He looked up at the sky as if it might reveal the answer to a mystery, but he didn’t see light the way she did. He probably noticed that the rain had left the air so clear that everything seemed sharper and brighter, but he probably couldn’t grasp what that meant to her. Not since she had arrived here had she seen light like this, and at home the higher humidity often affected the way things looked.

There she didn’t often see light like this, so fresh it might have been poured unused from a bottle.

“You’re going to paint,” he said.

“I need to. I can’t waste this light.”

“I heard that part.” He sighed, looked at her and apparently concluded she was determined. “All right. Just stay on the hillside in the open and keep the radio with you. I’ll do the grocery shopping as fast as I can. No point in both of us going into town.”

She touched his arm. “I can take care of myself, Craig. If anyone bothers me, he’ll regret it, okay? They’ve got to know by now I’m just a painter. Neither of us have done a thing to make them nervous. They’ll probably just stay clear.”

“Probably.” He clearly didn’t feel he had a good argument against that. “I may be a little while. I have some things to take care of.”

“That’s fine. I’ll probably be back here by noon or one, because the dust will start filling the air again.”

“If you’re not,” he warned, “I’ll come looking for you.”

“Fair enough.” She laughed, gave him a quick kiss, enjoying the fact that she could do that so freely now, and went to climb into her car.

It didn’t strike her until she was setting up her easel on the hillside, hunting for the firmest ground, that he had said he had things to do.

What things? Surely he wasn’t going to confront Buddy again? Or take a look at those trip wires?

No, of course not. It was daylight now, and Craig was nobody’s fool. She spread her tarp and settled in.

* * *

“She’s painting again,” Cap remarked, looking through binoculars from one of the new watchtowers.

“So?” Buddy asked, standing beside him. “That’s all she ever does.”

“True,” Cap admitted. “That and hanging out with the ranger at that cabin.”

Buddy sighed. Cap had begun to seriously irritate him. “The ranger’s not a problem. He hasn’t even been back over here. If he’s got the hots for her, so much the better. He’ll be thinking about everything else but us.”

“What about your plan to turn us into heroes?”

Buddy shifted uneasily. It was a good plan, if they did it right. He was just worried that Cap might go too far.

“As long as she just gets lost and we can find her, it’s a good plan. If you kill her, this place is going to be crawling with Feds after that hiker. It won’t just be Craig. It’ll be the damned FBI. That wouldn’t be smart.”

“Depends.” But Cap lowered the binoculars. “Okay, I’ll play along. We’ll cause her a small accident today. Then when the search starts, a few of us join up.”

“Me included. They know me. If I don’t show up, it’ll look weird. The important thing is to make them forget about us. To look like the good guys to them.”

“It would help,” Cap said.

Buddy looked at him, feeling that Cap was agreeing with him without meaning it. He knew Cap had big plans, but in simple fact, Buddy couldn’t imagine how starting them here in this isolated place would make a damn bit of difference. He remembered Idaho, damn it.

“The thing is, we look innocent. They leave us alone and we can keep planning the big action.”

Cap nodded and let the binoculars dangle from his neck. “I’ll send one of my guys out to set up a problem. Then maybe he can lure her into that gorge again. You can live with a broken leg, right?”

The tone was almost scornful. “I just don’t want her dead. Neither should you if you’re half as smart as you seem to think.”

Cap frowned at him in a way that made Buddy climb down from the tower and head for his own cabin. His wife, Vera, was looking worn and tired these days, probably because she and the girls were having to cook and clean up after so many more. He felt a twinge of conscience.

But he also knew something else. If Cap went too far, he didn’t want his family in any potentially dangerous crossfire. Not like what happened in Idaho.

“Stay close,” he said to her. “You and the kids. The minute anything seems to be going cockeyed, you get to the safe room and don’t leave it.”

Weariness gave way to fright. “Buddy, what’s going on?”

“Nothing yet. You know what I told you to watch out for. You keep them kids close, hear?”

* * *

Craig loathed leaving Sky behind. No, there was no specific threat. No, he couldn’t point to a damn thing except there were new people haunting these woods carrying AR-15s, which wasn’t illegal, and if they were just playing at being soldiers he couldn’t say a whole helluva lot about any of it. There’d been no overt threat. He didn’t like that one of them had followed her the other day, but on the other hand she was probably right: after checking out her kit they’d have to realize she was exactly what he’d told them she was, a painter.

Except that the increasing amount of surveillance they seemed to be under was making him jumpy as a cat. It was almost like the tightening of a noose. Which didn’t make sense. Why the hell would they care about a painter?

So they shouldn’t pay Sky any further attention. Did he like that one of them may have been lurking outside the cabin yesterday? Definitely not. But it wasn’t like he could prove it was one of them. People wandered these woods all the time, and while the numbers weren’t huge, there were still about twenty or thirty hikers and campers out here at any one time. Then there were the poachers. They probably constituted a bigger threat than Buddy and his friends.

In fact, it could well have been a poacher who mixed it up with that bear yesterday. That was more likely than that it had been one of the toy soldiers.

Sky wouldn’t have a thing to fear from the poachers. They didn’t like attention, and the only people who could cause them trouble were the rangers.

So... He blew a long, loud breath between his lips and told himself to calm down. He usually wasn’t one to get worked up, but since Sky’s arrival he’d been getting worked up a whole lot.

She awakened his every protective instinct, and he seemed to have a whole lot of those. Worse, he had figured out that she desperately needed affirmation in every way. She had been a trained soldier. Hector had undermined her in a lot of ways. She was struggling to regain her confidence, and to have argued with her about her ability to look after herself would have been wounding.

He couldn’t do that to her.

And to think that such a short time ago he would have thought her perfectly safe in that clearing, just sitting there painting. What had been the threat to her then? A bear? Not likely when all she was doing was sitting there. The smells of human and those oil paints would have kept any sensible bear quite a distance away.

So why was he so certain that things had changed? Because that Cap guy had been hanging around on the fringes of so many radical groups that espoused terrorism? No reason they would pick on one woman.

But then there was the hiker. Much as he’d tried to minimize that when talking about it with her, it still nagged at him. A lot of things could kill you out there alone in the woods. No question. A fall, a stumble, hypothermia if you got caught in the rain...yeah, whole lot of reasons. And no good reason to tie it to Buddy and Cap.

He stopped in at headquarters, let Dusty loose in the corral with a few other horses and spoke for a few minutes with Lucy.

“I’ll make sure someone goes that way at least once before you get back,” Lucy promised him. “We’ll keep an eye on her for you. I just wish I knew what was coming down. Or if something even is.”

So did he. Climbing back into the truck, he headed into town, determined to stop and see Gage and find out about this ATF move. As law enforcement himself, he had a right to know.

Then he was going to stock two coolers and hightail it back up there.

Because for some reason he kept seeing those trip wires he hadn’t been able to check out last night. Tonight, he promised himself. Tonight he was going to make sure they were innocent...or not.

Having an action plan settled him a bit. He knew he ought to insist Sky stay in town until this was over, but he figured he wouldn’t get very far with that. That woman was stubborn.

And for some reason that made him grin. Her arguments might sometimes seem to be all over the map, but he had figured out the gist: Sky had something to prove, and to her that meant sticking this out and being his sidekick.

Okay, then. They’d deal with it.

The back offices at the Conard County Sheriff’s department had turned into an ad hoc operations center.

Gage greeted him with “We’re getting ready for the ATF.”

“What are they going to do? Knock on Buddy’s gate?”

“I don’t know. I just found out that first sheet we got on Cap McDonald wasn’t all of it. He’s on a terrorist watch list and has been for a while.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. That and what the hell is he doing at Buddy’s place. Buddy’s no terrorist. He likes to dream about it, but he wouldn’t do it.”

“No, he just wants to survive it. I’d bet he doesn’t know much about Cap.”

“Apparently not. But while you and I will distinguish, I’m not sure about ATF.”

“They won’t want another Idaho.”

“Damn, I hope not. The Jacksons have always been on the fringe around here, pretty much keeping to themselves. At least since I moved here a couple of decades ago. But they’ve always been harmless fringe. You know that.”

Craig nodded. “I’ve talked to him any number of times over the past three years. I wouldn’t have pegged him for trouble. So maybe we need to be worrying about
him.
Just suppose Cap sees Buddy’s place as a base of operations. What if Buddy gives him trouble?”

“Then Cap had better move on because it won’t go unnoticed for long.”

“Sure it would. They never go to town. Who’d notice if they just disappeared?”

“You for starters,” Gage said. “My wife for another. Vera Jackson borrows books from the library on a regular basis to help teach her kids. Emma, my wife, lets her keep them for a month at a time, rather than two weeks, but she’d notice if Vera didn’t show up.”

“And you’d hear about it?”

“Believe it. I wouldn’t get a decent night’s sleep until I went out there to make sure Vera and the kids were okay. Cap may not realize that. He might think nobody would notice.”

Craig rubbed his chin. “Then maybe Buddy’s got a whole lot to worry about.”

“It’s possible. We don’t know all about what’s going on out there, though. As for the ATF...you’re senior officer on the forest lands. I’m going to make sure they understand that very clearly.”

“I’m not at their level. The kinds of crimes I investigate don’t rise to that level.”

“But you know the forest. You know the Jacksons. And it is your job. If nothing else, they’ll have to keep you in the loop.”

That didn’t exactly make Craig feel any better. He was a federal law enforcement officer, yes. But he also knew the limits of his experience: poachers, the all-too-frequent idiots who thought the isolated forest would be a great place to raise some cannabis, and other miscreants.

But he understood what Gage was trying to do. He was trying to keep a federal officer in the loop to protect the Jacksons...unless they were in it up to their necks.

The more he thought about it, the less likely it seemed to Craig. Gage was right, the guy was a bit of a nut, but so far he’d been a harmless nut. If he crossed that borderline, it would most likely be the result of Cap’s influence.

On the terrorist watch list? The thought sent chills down his spine and he hurried to pick up ice and supplies.

Sky might be safe out there, seeing as how she posed no threat to those guys, but he was incapable of understanding the mindset of a terrorist. They struck him as no different from any other mass murderer or serial killer, except they cloaked it in some political reason.

He didn’t get those guys at all.

And that made him fear for Sky.

* * *

Well before noon, the breeze had begun to stir up enough dust that the light lost its clarity. Edges that had been sharp earlier began to blur ever so slightly. Sky sighed contentedly and started to put her brushes away. She snapped enough pictures earlier to have captured the transparency of the light, and digital cameras were far better for that than film, which softened everything just a bit. Not so much that most people would notice, but she did.

She had just finished putting her brushes in a plastic bag along with a little cleaner to keep them soft when she heard something from the woods.

Glancing over, she saw something dart away. She froze, almost certain it had had the shape of a man. She hadn’t felt watched most of the morning, so she tried to talk herself into thinking she must have seen something else. Fifteen minutes later, packing all the while, she was still trying to talk herself into believing it was nothing, and since she didn’t catch sight of anything else, it should have been easy to believe.