WHY DID SHE suddenly want to burst into tears? Dev blinked a couple of times, forcing back her reaction. Was it the compassionate expression on Sloan’s rugged face? The burning look of care in his narrowed blue eyes? The sensation of Sloan invisibly wrapping her within his strong, safe arms even though he was sitting several feet away from her, sprawled out, relaxed, but focused on her? The sensation was so real Dev closed her eyes for a moment, her fingers tightening around the slender stem of the wineglass. She hadn’t had that much to drink. But maybe her stomach was empty, so she was more susceptible to alcohol.
But the real truth, whether Dev wanted to admit it or not, was that she thoroughly enjoyed Sloan’s easygoing, comfortable company. He was the direct opposite of Bart Gordon, who reminded her of a wild animal on the prowl, hunting for his mate, willing to do anything to make her his. Her gut clenched and she kept her eyes closed, trying to will away the terror that never seemed to leave her. It would steal upon her at odd times. Unexpected ones. Like right now. She should be happy to be with Sloan because he always lifted her spirits. He was kind. Unselfish. Interested in her, but allowing her, from what she could sense, to pace whatever it was between them. He didn’t push her like Gordon had. He didn’t close in on her, making her feel claustrophobic, which she was. Maybe it was because on bad days when her father wanted to drink heavily, he’d push her into the clothes closet in her bedroom and lock the door.
To sit in that darkness...the dankness...the lack of fresh air. Dev lost count of how many times she’d cried softly so she wouldn’t be heard. Because if her father did hear her, he’d come and rip the door open, bellowing down at her, telling her to stop crying. Big girls didn’t cry, he’d scream at her. Suck it up. Wipe those tears away. And he promised to come back in a little while—which was hours later—and let her out.
Dev felt herself begin to unravel, lose control, and she couldn’t do that. Sloan really didn’t know that much about her. And he’d probably lose respect for her. In the Marine Corps, Dev had tried so hard to keep it together. But her commanding officer was an alcoholic, too, and it was as if she’d stepped back into being a seven-year-old shoved into a small, dark, smelly closet. The only light leaking in was beneath the door and she’d stare at that light, willing herself to watch it, because it meant hope. Hope that her drunk father would eventually come and let her out of the closet. And God help her if she peed her pants because she couldn’t hold it any longer. Or if she got so thirsty she couldn’t cry any more tears. Those years were horrifying for Dev, and being in the military, she’d sought freedom from them.
Only she’d traded them for an alcoholic CO, Major Terrence Paddington, who had scared the hell out of her. He didn’t like or trust the women in his company. He didn’t care she was a highly trained dog handler who was good at what she did. He didn’t like women in combat, pure and simple. And he tried to keep her safe so that his blemished record wouldn’t look worse than it already did. No one wanted a woman to die in combat. That was a huge no-no. A black mark on her CO’s personnel jacket. And Dev had felt like she had been in that terrifying closet once again: trapped. Only with Major Paddington, he wanted to keep her imprisoned in that invisible closet for her entire deployment.
Dev began to see an overall pattern in her life: one of being crammed and hidden away by men. By the time Gordon had come along, she’d simply wanted to be out in nature, enjoying fresh air, the sun on her face, and doing her job tracking. But Gordon... Oh no, she could not cry! Dev’s fingers curved inward into her palm as she sat there, head tilted forward, her mouth compressed to stop the memories.
The memories came, anyway. But she could feel that invisible blanket sliding across her shoulder, warming her, protecting her, and she knew it came from Sloan. He sat there quietly and she felt no urgency to speak. Her throat tightened. A desperation surged through her like a clenched fist ramming up from her wildly beating heart, into her throat, past the forming lump, and leaping into her mouth. And then...
“I hated Gordon always watching me,” she began in a desperate tone. Dev kept her eyes shut, not wanting to see what lay in Sloan’s eyes. Just the sensation of that immaterial embrace of his, that sense of utter safety surrounding her, allowed the words to tear out of her, never heard by another human being until now. “I could... I felt...his eyes... His eyes were always on me. I swear to God, I could feel this hot, burning sensation on my back when he came in and found me. I felt his eyes following me and the feeling that came with it...” Dev shuddered, the words jamming up in her aching throat.
“I—I could feel him wanting me. It was dirty. It was...awful. It was sexual, and he scared me. I tried to deal with it. I told myself it was in my head, that I was imagining things, that is was me, not him. I tried to convince myself that it was me.” Her voice broke.
Dev felt the beaded coolness of the condensation on the outside of the wineglass beneath her fingertips. She focused on it because the emotions writhing within her threatened to overwhelm the dissolving control she had over them. “But it wasn’t me,” she said. She hung her head, chin against her chest, fingers tightening around the stem. “Three months went by and he would quietly come into a room where I was and come up behind me... God,” Dev whispered unsteadily, wiping her eyes and opening them, staring sightlessly and straight ahead. “He never announced himself. He would always find me when I was alone, in a back room, when no other people were around. He was stalking me. Waiting. I didn’t know why, except I felt so damned scared my brain would freeze.”
Dev forced herself to lift her head and looked up at Sloan. The urge to get up and run into his arms nearly overwhelmed her. Somehow, Dev knew Sloan would open them, haul her into his embrace and hold her tight. Hold her safe. It suddenly dawned upon her that since Gordon’s attack, she had felt like raw meat with no way to shield her natural vulnerability from anyone. He’d stripped her. Humiliated her. Overwhelmed her with his brute physical strength.
Dev drowned in Sloan’s stormy blue eyes, helpless to tear her gaze away from his. It was almost a hypnotic look, one pulling her in, pulling her closer, but she felt no terror. Just...safety. And it allowed her to give voice to something she’d never told anyone.
“Gordon kept after me for six months,” Dev continued in a low tone. “I had tried to get my supervisor to stop him at three months. And I knew in my gut that Gordon was aware I’d written up a report on him. That I had accused him of sexual harassment, inappropriate touching...” Dev swallowed hard, looking away, because she couldn’t handle the sympathy burning in Sloan’s eyes. She said in a hoarse voice, “He...found me... I was out in the barn, up in the hay mow on the third story one evening. I was running late. I’d needed a bale of timothy hay for Goldy. We’d just gotten off a successful mission to find a lost twelve-year-old boy. Bella had found him. It was almost dark. I had Bella in the truck. I’d cleaned up Goldy and put her in her stall. And when I realized there was no hay down on the first floor, I hurried up the ladder to get a bale from the third floor.”
She pushed the wineglass away, clenching her hands. “I didn’t hear Gordon coming...”
Everything came roaring back to Dev and suddenly she was in a flashback, no longer there with Sloan, but back on that shadowy third floor of the barn. She had been hefting a hundred-pound bale of hay and had dropped it in the mow. She remembered the sweet fragrance of the alfalfa hay encircling her nostrils like a perfume, wishing she could just collapse into that mattress-like dried hay and go to sleep. She had been tired. So tired. It had taken nearly twelve hours to track and find the lost, frightened young boy. Dev had been physically exhausted, emotionally stressed and mentally whipped.
Not allowing Bella to go into the barn with her had been a mistake. She’d dropped the bale next to that huge amount of loose hay, removed the two huge iron hooks from it and pulled her Buck knife from the leather scabbard on her belt. Leaning down, Dev had swiftly cut the three taut strings of twine that held the bale together. It had sprung open. She’d slid the Buck knife into the sheath, snapped it shut and leaned down to pick up a flake for Goldy.
A man’s hand had snaked from behind her, his long, powerful fingers gripping her nape and then twisting her to one side, shoving her backward, off balance and into the mow. Dev had gasped, her arms flying upward, shocked by the assault. She hadn’t known who it was until she’d landed on her back, the air knocked out of her.
Gordon’s eyes were slits as he approached her. He had a grisly, triumphant smile on his full mouth as he jerked open the leather belt around his jeans, yanking at the snap and unzipping his trousers as he halted and lorded over her. Dev couldn’t move. She lay helplessly, gasping like a fish out of water, terrified by the crazed look in Gordon’s eyes. She saw him jerk down his jeans, the thick erection pressing against his blue boxer shorts, He pushed his Levi’s below his knees. And then grabbed her by a shoulder to keep her pinned. He jerked at the snap on the waistband of her Levi’s. He yanked them downward, grabbing for her panties, ripping them off her. Dev cried out, adrenaline suddenly firing through her like an explosion.
Gordon cursed at her, calling her a bitch, his fingers digging painfully into her shoulder to keep her trapped. Dev lifted her legs, fighting back. She arced her left hand upward, her fist slamming into his prominent nose. Instantly, pain shot up into her hand and her wrist.
Gordon winced and shouted out a curse, surprise flaring in his eyes. He reared back, his nose bleeding, the blood running swiftly across his lips and down his chin.
It was the break she needed! Dev wrenched her shoulder away from his grip. He released her and she swiftly rolled away from Gordon. His other hand was below the waist of her jeans, grasping at her crotch. Screaming in terror, Dev kicked out, throwing him to the floor as her boots connected with his chest. She shoved to her feet. Disoriented, in shock, she hesitated a split second, pulling up her Levi’s, trying to find a way to escape him.
Gordon snarled and grabbed at her arm. He jerked Dev down into the mow once more. She shouted for help.
Her head slammed into the soft mow, Gordon’s weight coming down on top of her. She kept screaming, desperate for someone to hear her. Her elbow felt immediate pain as she connected with one of the hay bale hooks lying nearby as he shoved her deep into the mow, fingers digging into her thighs, forcing them open. She saw the rage in Gordon’s slitted eyes as his hand wrapped around her throat, holding her as he positioned one knee between her legs.
Bucking, kicking, Dev refused to give up. Panic seized her as he ripped her shirt open, exposing her white bra, then her breasts.
No!
Dev shrieked, her fumbling fingers locating the wooden handle of one of the huge iron bale hooks. His hand pinched and squeezed her breast, a victorious smile on his face. Everything began to turn gray around her as he deliberately shut off her breathing.
Desperate, Dev knew she was losing consciousness. With all her might, she jerked her hand upward, arcing it into his back. The hook point sunk deep into his upper back near his right shoulder blade.
Howling in pain, Gordon lunged upright, his left hand clawing wildly at the hook embedded deep into his flesh.
Dev scrambled away as he tilted to the left, losing his grip on her. Panting, scrambling to get to her hands and knees, she spotted the ladder, lunged for it. Her shirt was torn open, bra exposed. Her Levi’s were sliding down toward her knees. Grabbing them, she yanked them upward and surged toward the opening.
Shaking so much Dev thought she’d fall off the ladder, her knees nearly buckled beneath her. She heard Gordon’s curses. Heard him struggling to his feet.
The next thing she knew, he’d thrown the huge bale hook at her. It glanced off the silvery wooden wall of the barn, barely missed her head and went sailing silently down past her then clanged loudly against the wooden floor far below Dev.
Hurry! Hurry!
Gasping for breath, Dev didn’t dare look up. Her feet slipped several times on the ladder, her hands gripping the sides. Splinters jammed into both her palms, but she felt no pain.
The moment her feet hit the second floor, she sprinted for the next ladder which would take her to the main floor of the barn. And escape! The thunking of Gordon’s boots were heavy on the ladder above her.
Oh, God! No! Small cries tore out of Dev as she raced toward the last ladder. She wasn’t sure her weakening knees would hold her up. Dev hit that ladder at a run, leaping down into the large square opening. She didn’t care if she hurt herself at this point or not. It was better than getting raped!
Her boots skidded and slipped on the worn wood and she fell the last three feet to the first floor, pain arching up her right hip. Hearing the heavy thunk of boots on the second floor above her, Dev scrambled to her feet. Outside was her truck. Weaving, arm flailing to keep her from falling, holding up her Levi’s with her other hand, she raced down the wooden ramp to the slope where the truck was parked. Everything was shadowy and dark, and her heart was pounding so hard in her ears that she couldn’t hear anything. Though she jerked a look over her shoulder as she stumbled down the slope, terrified Gordon was right behind her, Dev didn’t see him.
Yanking open the door to her truck, she hopped in, grabbing for the keys she’d left on the dash. She slammed the locks shut.
Bella whined. Then her eyes were riveted on the barn, hackles up on her neck and back, growling menacingly.
Dev got the truck started with a badly shaking hand. She jammed her foot down on the accelerator, the truck roaring and leaping forward, skidding, a plume of dust rising in its wake. Wrestling with the truck, Dev glimpsed a shadowy figure racing out of the barn toward her. It was Gordon! Teeth clenched, her eyes on the highway ahead, she knew she had to escape! Her breasts ached. They felt bruised. She could still feel his kneading, hurting hand around them. Oh, God...
* * *
IT TOOK EVERYTHING Sloan had to sit still after Dev told him what had happened to her. He watched her struggling not to cry. He realized she could very well misinterpret his wanting to help her in a moment of need. She gave him a quick look, swiped at her eyes and sniffed.
“Did you go to the police?” he asked hoarsely.
“Yes, but it was a lost cause. The sergeant at the desk looked at me and asked if Gordon had raped me. I told him he’d tried. And then he said if he had raped me, then I needed to get to the hospital and get a rape kit done.” Dev shook her head. “He didn’t believe me. I showed him my hands. I had so many splinters in them. Funny, I couldn’t feel any pain in them at that point...”
“It’s shock and adrenaline,” Sloan explained, his voice low and taut.
“I couldn’t go to the hospital because I hadn’t officially been raped. Nothing would show up on the rape kit. I told the sergeant I wanted to press assault charges against Gordon.” Miserably, Dev whispered, “My shirt was torn open and I was holding it closed with one hand. The sergeant said he didn’t see any assault on me except that I had splinters in my hand from sliding down that last ladder. He told me it would end up being a he-said-she-said court case. That there were no witnesses. Gordon’s word against mine. It was useless for me to fill out a report.”
The look of defeat and devastation in Dev’s eyes tore at Sloan. It would do no good to get angry. She might take his reaction the wrong way and she was the victim still suffering from the experience. “And that’s when you went to your Forest Service supervisor?”
“Right,” Dev whispered. “And he didn’t believe me at all.”
“Did you ever file a report against Gordon?”
Dev gave him a rueful look. “You have to remember, there are men who are backward as hell about women. The sergeant argued with me that I could have gotten splinters in my hand from anywhere, for a lot of different reasons. There were no witnesses.” She touched her neck. “I told him he was choking me, trying to make me unconscious so he could rape me, but at the time I went to the police station, my neck looked fine. It was hours afterward that the bruises where his fingers had been started to show up.”
Sloan clamped his lips shut. Dev had been railroaded. A bunch of men had stuck together to make her look like she was setting up an innocent man to get him in trouble. “I’m sorry,” he said, knowing how lame it sounded. The terror in her eyes was still there. It was torture to sit there, not move, not get up and walk over to Dev. She needed to be held. Needed to feel safe.
“I—I went back to the police department,” she growled stubbornly, her fingers on her neck. “I was angry and I wasn’t going to let this go. The same sergeant was at the desk and I showed him the bright red and purple bruises around my neck. I’d taken a picture with my cell phone so it was part of the proof that Gordon had jumped me. At that point, he got a woman police officer and I went into a back room where I showed her the bruises on my abdomen, the bruises showing up between my thighs where he’d groped me. She took pictures.” Her voice lowered. “It was humiliating. I—I’ve never been treated like I was a liar. Never been attacked like that, Sloan.”
“I wish you’d had a friend who could have been there to support you.”
“So do I. But my best friend, Tanya, was on vacation at the time.”
“What did the police do then?”
“They took my complete statement. Then, they went and got Gordon at his home and interviewed him. He denied being there, but he didn’t have an alibi to prove he wasn’t at the barn. He had gone to a local doc-in-the-box to get the puncture wound near his right shoulder blade looked at. When the police asked him about it, he lied and denied it. They didn’t have a warrant to force him to show them his back wound, so they had to leave. The woman police officer went out to the barn the next day, though. Up in a mow, there’s always a lot of dust.”
Sloan nodded, feeling pride for Dev’s grit in her attempt to get Gordon. Tension ran through him and he had to force himself to relax. Dev needed a friend, someone she could talk to, to get this out before it ate her up alive. And Sloan knew something like this would do just that if she didn’t talk it out. “Did she find his footprints?”
“Yes, she had a forensics team with her, and it clearly showed boot tracks from my boots and Gordon’s boots, that there was a fight.” Some satisfaction rang in her voice. “And then the same woman officer called around to the area’s medical facilities and she found Gordon’s name on an entry form. She got a search warrant, went to his house and he was forced to show the wound I’d given him with the baling hook. It was the proof I needed to charge him with assault.” Flexing her hand, forcing herself to relax, she uttered, “It was enough. I got him convicted on assault, not rape. I couldn’t prove he was stalking me, so that charge was thrown out of court. The judge gave him a thirty-day sentence,” she said, disbelief in her voice. “And he was forced to have a parole officer, to check in with him weekly for the next three years. Plus he had to wear an ankle bracelet for the next year.”
Sloan felt the anger around Dev. “He should have gotten a lot more prison time than thirty lousy days.”
“Well,” she said wearily, “Gordon’s supervisor, who was protecting him, was forced to fire him because a ranger can’t have a felony assault on his record.” Her mouth twitched. “Before he left, Gordon told me out of earshot of anyone else that he’d get even with me. That it was my fault he’d been fired.”
“The guy is mentally unstable,” Sloan growled. He saw relief in Dev’s eyes as he sided with her. “And because of that incident and Gordon’s threat, you demanded a change of assignment?”
“Better believe it. I didn’t trust Gordon. He’d stalked me before, and I knew he’d try to get even with me. God, every day my stomach was tied in knots and I was afraid I’d meet him at the grocery store, at my apartment... I felt like if he could, he’d get me alone and kill me. It was that palpable. I got a restraining order against him, but I know they don’t work worth a damn.”
“And where is he now?” Sloan couldn’t help the bitterness in his voice as he watched the helplessness in Dev’s eyes. Her hands were trembling and she could barely sit still in the chair. She was beyond agitated. And he couldn’t blame her.
“I don’t know. I didn’t want to keep tabs on him, Sloan. I just want as far away from him as I can get.” Shivering, Dev wrapped her arms around herself. “I never want to see that bastard again.”
“How can I help you?”
The look on her face told Sloan so damned much that it sent a blade of pain down through him. Her father was an alcoholic. Her mother had a demanding career and basically Dev had been abandoned by her early on in her life. The stark look of being abandoned was clearly etched in her eyes. She was feeling alone. Again. Only this time, she probably felt as if no one at all was there to have her back. Protect her. He damn well would.
“You’re doing it now,” Dev said, blowing out a breath of air. “Thanks for listening, Sloan. I—I’ve never told anyone about this, until just now.” She gave him an apologetic look. “I don’t know why, but you’re easy to be around and I feel like you really listen to a person. I guess I needed to get this off my chest.”
“My ma always said I had a broad shoulder to cry on.” Sloan eyed her tenderly, feeling his heart turn. The devastation and the need in Dev’s eyes nearly unstrung his strong sense of control. She didn’t have any friends out here, Sloan realized. Everyone was back East now.
“Well, that’s certainly true. But I think it’s your farrier nature showing itself. Your ability to observe, listen and feel out an animal or—” she shrugged “—in my case, just listening to me, one human being to another.”
“Anytime,” Sloan said, holding his anger in check. “Listen, we’ve got tomorrow off. I was heading out to the Elk Horn Ranch to do some shoeing. Would you like to come along? Iris Mason is the owner of the ranch, and she’s a good person. She’s like a grandmother to everyone she meets. I think you could use some new, loving family around you. Iris is a very kind, astute person. Sees through people and knows how to support them in positive ways. Would you like to meet her? She’s got a granddaughter, Kamaria Trayhern-Sheridan, who lives on the property with her husband, Wes, and their son, Joseph. They’re a big family and Iris just kinda takes strays like myself in, and automatically assimilates us into her family.”
“She sounds really nice,” Dev murmured, rubbing her arms as if she felt chilled. “And I do need to start making some friends.”
“Yeah, it’s lonely being alone,” Sloan said, grinning a little, watching her cheeks grow pink, getting some color back in them. He could see the depth of stress that Gordon’s attack had caused Dev. There was more to this issue, and he’d known it. She had been in combat and gotten PTSD like just about everyone else thrown into war. Getting wounded put a person in a different frame of mind and Sloan understood that better than most.
“Since the attack,” Dev said hollowly, “I’ve been paranoid about men. It’s silly because not all men are like Gordon, but my mind... God, my mind, Sloan...” Her voice trailed off in frustration.
“Listen, there’s a real nice woman by the name of Sky McCoy who also lives out at the Elk Horn Ranch. She was an RN in the Navy and worked at Bagram Hospital over a number of deployments. Sky is married and works with her husband, Grayson. He’s a former Navy SEAL and is responsible for the wildlife center on the ranch. They have a young daughter, Emma, who is six months old. Sky is easy to talk to, Dev. And she had a lot of rough experiences on her last deployment, too. I’ll introduce her to you. While I shoe over in their main barn, you two might chat a little.” She needed a woman friend in whom she could confide. He got how it was difficult for Dev to reveal everything to him at this point. He was a man and not to be trusted fully. At least not yet. Their trust was tenuous and slowly being woven together.
“I’d like that.” Dev gave him a sad look. “I find that civilians don’t understand us military people at all. We have experiences they could never fathom, much less understand. It’s not their fault. It’s just the way it is.”
“I know. And it’s important right now that you be around other vets. We do support one another, Dev.”
“There weren’t many at my other assignment among the rangers,” she admitted.
“Well,” Sloan said, forcing himself to remain relaxed, “Iris makes a point of hiring men and women coming out of the military as ranch employees. And so does Talon Holt, who’s a former SEAL himself, over at the Triple H Ranch. And Griff and Val McPherson at the Bar H. Maybe some other time when I go back over there to shoe their horses, and if you have the day off, you can ride over with me. Meet Cat, Talon’s wife. She wasn’t in the military, but she was a firefighter paramedic for the Jackson Hole Fire Department for seven years. She knows combat of a different sort, but we consider her one of us.”
Smiling a little, Dev said, “I should hang around with you. It sounds like you know just about everyone around here.”
“Being a farrier does that,” Sloan said, seeing a little hope leak into her darkened green eyes. He could easily understand how alone Dev felt right now. He didn’t blame her under the circumstances. It was good that she had Bella, who was probably a lifesaver for her in an emotional sense. Dogs always knew when their owners were depressed or stressed-out. “Want to go?” He tried not to show how badly he wanted Dev to accompany him. It would help her. He watched Dev as she considered his request.
“Do you think I could bring Bella along?”
“Sure. Iris loves animals. Just keep her on a leash and that should be good enough.”
“Right,” Dev agreed. She gazed at Bella and softly stroked her head.
Bella thumped her tail.
“I’d better go,” Dev murmured. “I’ve got a lot to do tonight. What time do I meet you tomorrow morning?”
Sloan stood up. “8:00 a.m. okay?” He walked over and pulled the chair away from the table so that she could stand. How badly he wanted to place a hand on her shoulder, gently turn Dev around and gather her into his arms. Sloan knew that’s what she needed. But to try it now would frighten her away and break the thin threads of trust that lay between them. More than anything, Sloan wanted Dev to continue to come to him. As he walked her and Bella to the door, he wondered if he was any different from Gordon. Sloan wanted Dev, too.
“Fine. See you then,” Dev said, opening the door. She hesitated, giving him a look of gratitude. “Thanks for everything, Sloan. I’m glad you were there...” She swallowed.
Just seeing the sheen of tears suddenly come to Dev’s green eyes made him want to embrace her. Kiss her senseless. Take her to his bed and love her until she forgot everything except the pleasure Sloan knew he could give her. “I’ll always try to be there for you, Dev.” And Sloan would. She just didn’t realize the depth of his commitment to her was all. Given the circumstances, patience was going to be the key to her. There was no way she was going to fall into his arms, even though Sloan knew Dev was as drawn to him as he was to her. Too much stood in the way right now.
Worse, his mind angled toward the question of where Bart Gordon was today. Was he still back East? Or a worst-case scenario he didn’t even want to contemplate: Gordon coming out here to even the score with Dev.