Chapter Eight

Bronco awoke the next morning to a not-so-gentle tap on the head. He opened one eye, expecting to see Gaucho parked next to him, paw poised mid-air for the next jab. The cat, however, was not to be seen. Odd. He yawned, stretched, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and glanced at the open bathroom door. Gaucho sat on the sink, lapping at the water Bronco had left dripping.

Shrugging, he ambled into the bathroom, grabbed a quick shower, and applied more of the yarrow tea. True to Emma’s word, the solution had soothed his inflamed derriere, and the bright red color was now rosy pink, almost back to normal.

He snapped the leash on the cat’s harness. A brisk walk outside, then breakfast. Coffee, pancakes, and eggs would hit the spot right now. Nearly eight-thirty. He hoped the kitchen was open. Maybe he could grab a mug on his way out. As he hit the bottom step, he heard Emma’s voice, and his heart stuttered. When had she arrived?

“So, I told him he could send a car around if he wanted, but I was sure everything would be fine.” She chuckled. “Little twerp.”

“You talking trash about me?” Bronco grinned and strode into the sunny kitchen. “Coffee? Please, pretty, please? Is the coast clear?”

“We can talk amongst ourselves.” Lucius poured a piping hot cup and handed it to him. “The tourists are out for the day, said they’d get dinner in town.”

“My ever so protective buddy, Tommy Otterlegs, stopped back by yesterday after you left.” Emma continued, her eyes crinkling with mirth. “Said you have a long rap sheet, and he’s going to Lock. You. Up.”

“He’s on to me.” Bronco raised the mug. “To good police work.”

“Speaking of which…” Lucius said with a meaningful look.

“Gaucho and I need a quick walk first, then you need to feed us. We can’t work on an empty stomach.”

“Gotcha covered. What’s your pleasure? I can have it ready in twenty.”

Emma broke in. “Let me guess. Pancakes and lots of syrup.”

Bronco stared at her. “How’d you know?”

“Your phone, remember? Try to keep it away from your plate this time, okay?”

“Ya want sausage or bacon with that?” Lucius asked.

Cup in hand, he headed for the back door. “Whatever’s easy.”

“Okay if I join you?” Emma asked.

“Sure.” He reached for the doorknob, and the mug wobbled. Hot coffee sloshed over his hand. “Shoot.”

Emma opened the door and motioned for him to go ahead of her. “You still have that yarrow tea? It’s good for burns, too.”

“Yup. I got a reminder to use it last night.”

“A reminder?” She frowned. “Who did that?”

“Lucius tells me it was Beautiful Blackfeather.” He set his cup on the porch railing and unsnapped Gaucho’s leash. “Go on, have a nice run.” The cat leaped down the stairs and into the grasses. Bronco walked down the steps and headed for the path along the river.

“I don’t understand. What does she have to do with this?”

“Well, according to Lucius, she’s hanging around the hotel.” He described the flushing toilet, the re-positioning of the washcloth into the jar, and the brown eyes in the mirror. “I got a good rap on the noggin this morning, which I’m beginning to think was her, too, telling me to get up and get to work.”

“That’s so odd.” Emma strode next to Bronco, keeping up with his pace with ease. “I used to feel rooms that were cold when I was cleaning the hotel, but never saw or felt anything else. On the other hand, I’m sort of not surprised, because I’m Crow. We’re raised to believe that when our loved one is gone, she’s gone, and to call out a Being without Body’s name is to invite trouble.”

“I’m not sure about the trouble part. If it’s Beautiful, she’s seems to want to be helpful. But then again, I’m no expert on spirits. Unlike Tallulah, I’ve never had any experiences like this before.” He chuckled. “Lucius seems to think your ancestor has adopted me.”

“Hmmm.” She placed her fingertips on his arm. “Look over there.”

Across the river, half a dozen mule deer stared at them and chewed, their long ears twitching.

Their ears weren’t the only thing trembling. His cup shook, and she glanced at his face.

“Good thing that mug’s almost empty. Why so jumpy, Jittery Jones?”

“What’s with these cartoon nicknames? First it’s Rooster McFusspot, now Jittery Jones.” He forced a laugh. “What’s next? Wiley Wolf?”

Truth be told, her proximity unnerved him. Her voice alone put his body on high alert. Her touch escalated his heart rate and breathing from normal to near fight or flight levels. The kiss yesterday had left him in a daze and every inch of his skin tingling. He wanted more, a whole lot more. At the moment, he fought the urge to throw Emma over his shoulder and drag her into his king-sized bed. He longed to bury his head between her quivering legs and lap at her until she shuddered screaming his name—just for starters. Visions of stroking her breasts and sucking at her nipples until they became rock hard and tender with his lavish devotions clouded his view of the river and demanded his attention. After that he planned to introduce her to his not-so-little friend Bronco, Jr. and take her for a long, hard ride. He looked forward to being her personal mustang, bucking in bed, out of bed, in the shower, up against the wall, over the desk, on the balcony, on his bike, alongside the river, and under the stars. And when they were done, exhausted by lovemaking, he’d kiss her scars and drive away the memories of the bear mauling and any other thoughts she had beyond wanting to start all over again. He shook his head to clear the testosterone haze and prayed his body’s reactions to his lust filled fantasies weren’t too obvious.

“Worried about the assignment, that’s all.” He sipped his now cold cup of Joe. “We haven’t heard from Bert. Remote viewing is assisted when it’s accompanied by hard data, like aerial photography. That way I don’t spend all day trying to figure out where to focus my energy, and I can get in and up close to the area of interest.”

“You should be worried,” she agreed. “There’s a lot riding on this.”

“Plus, Lucius has a lot of concerns about the quartet of stiffs staying at the hotel.” At her raised eyebrows, he added, “The tourists. They seem like a bunch of uptight CPAs, but I have to agree with him, there’s something off.”

She nodded. “Tallulah took me aside this morning in their private office. Showed me their IDs, and the photos of the books. Gotta say the medical coding and billing books alongside the vintage spy craft manuals made me want to sing ‘One of these things is not like the other.’”

“Exactly.” His feline partner came bouncing up, a still wriggling rabbit in his mouth. “Aw, for me? You shouldn’t have.” The cat set the live animal at his feet, his paw on the hapless creature’s neck. “Let him go and I’ll get you some sausage. Is that a good trade?” Gaucho lifted his paw, and the stunned rabbit lay in front of them, his eyes bugging. “Good boy. Let’s go in. He’ll recover.”

Emma blocked his path and put her hand up. “Stop, please, I need to say something.” She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye. “I’m sorry I kissed you yesterday. It was completely inappropriate and unprofessional. It won’t ever happen again.”

As if to mirror the chill falling between them, a gust of cool air swept off the river and into his heart. “Sure. Message received. Incident completely forgotten.” He frowned and ground his teeth. “Now, if you don’t mind, I hate cold flapjacks. I’m going to grab a bite to eat and get to work.”

He whistled for Gaucho and took off for the hotel as if racing his cat, but in reality he had to get away from this woman who had charmed and captivated him and just now, crushed his hopes for any type of involvement outside of work. Actually, she’d just done him a huge favor. Bronco liked his job. If he screwed up an assignment, it was one thing, but if he screwed around with Bert’s sister? He’d probably be a dead man.

****

Surprise and hurt had flashed in Bronco’s eyes just before he shuttered his emotions and switched into the other persona, his cold, professional, ruthless double. As he retreated into the hotel, Emma wished she could recall the words from the air, pull them back into her mouth, and stuff them down her throat. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her denim jacket, she kicked at a rock and sent it sailing into the grasses.

Unprofessional? Inappropriate? Absolutely. Unwanted? Never. Whenever she was near Bronco, she wanted the man in a way that frightened her, made her worry she’d forget her vow to herself to bury her heart. She couldn’t restore Jessica’s leg, but she could use her head instead of her heart—and her pheromones—to guide her actions. Shit, this was a lot tougher than she thought it was going to be when she gave herself that pep talk last night. If his icy reaction to her apology was any indicator, she did the right thing. No need to make things any more complicated than they already were.

“Emma?” Hand on her lower back, Tallulah stood on the porch with Franny prancing at her feet. “Are you eating? Lucius made enough for ten people.”

“Be right there.”

Tallulah and Lucius had overcome a century of differences to be together and seemed to be blissfully happy in their marriage. How had they found their true mates in the face of these obstacles? Yes, she’d been there, watched them fight and fall in love and fight to stay in love. But what had made Tallulah toss aside her hesitation to take a leap of faith and go with the man from another era? She sighed. It didn’t matter now. After effectively setting clear cut boundaries in the relationship, cutting off any romantic avenue of approach, Emma would think twice—maybe three and four times—before touching Bronco, much less kissing him again. And based on his response, she thought he’d probably do the same.

Emma entered the kitchen and found only Tallulah present, sliding eggs out of a frying pan onto a plate already occupied by a short stack and bacon. “Orange juice on the table, along with flatware and napkins. The boys are in the office, working on the computer, jabbering on the phone with Bert. Bronco took his food with him.”

Between gulps of juice, Emma said, “Hope he doesn’t touch the computer screen—or keyboard.”

“Lucius ate earlier.” Tallulah placed Emma’s plate down. “My guess is he’s doing the typing—one letter at a time.”

“For someone who didn’t see computers until a little over a year ago, he’s doing well.”

“Yes, he is.” Tallulah traced a circle on the table top in the condensation from the juice decanter. “What about you, Emma. How are you doing?”

“Fine,” she lied. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, maybe because Beautiful Blackfeather is standing next to you, and she’s frowning.”

“For heaven’s sake. That’s not fair. You know I can’t see her. Are you telling the truth or are you teasing me?”

“Not kidding. Oh, there she goes. Sign talking and pissed at you. Beautiful says she likes this guy, and you shouldn’t be so fast to get rid of him. You’re not getting any younger.”

“Tell her I’m not going for two horses and a rifle.”

“She heard you just fine. Now she’s really angry, talking so fast I can barely keep up. Slow down, please, Beautiful.” Tallulah nodded. “She says you’re smart and beautiful in so many ways, but in the ways of the heart you’re as stubborn as a government mule.”

“Nice. Now I’m a mule.” Emma shook her head. “Any other advice? Ow!” Emma grabbed her ear. “What was that?”

“She said to listen to your heart and your dreams.” Blushing furiously, Tallulah shook her head. “No, I’m not telling her that.”

“Now what?” Emma stared at her friend.

Covering her bright red face, Tallulah whispered, “She said he earned his horse name.”

It took a moment for the meaning of the comment to sink in. “Ohmigod! I can’t believe she said that.”

“She may be dead, but she’s not blind.” Tallulah snorted in laughter.

Against her better judgement Emma started giggling, too.

Holding a plate in one hand and a computer print-out in the other, Bronco chose that precise moment to walk into the kitchen. His gaze went from Emma to Tallulah, back to Emma. “Did I miss something?”

Coughing, Emma grabbed the glass of orange juice and chugged. Not only was her ancestor a powerful medicine woman, but she was trying to be a matchmaker from the other side, too. One glance at Bronco’s cold expression told her that wasn’t happening.

“No,” she sputtered. “Got a piece of bacon stuck in my throat, that’s all.”

Tallulah took the dish and fork out of his hands and ran water in the sink.

“What do you have there?” Emma asked. “Is that from my brother?”

Eyebrow quirked, he gave her a long stare, then nodded. “It’s an aerial view of the Neo-Nazi compound in northern Montana, four or five hours away from here by car. And it’s worse than I thought.” He placed four pieces of paper down on the table in front of her plate. “This—” he pointed—“is an electric plant. I’m guessing coal. From the steam, it appears to be operational. Those long, low buildings look like warehouses. And over here, those appear to be housing.” He paused. “But the scariest part is this.” He pointed to long white lines across the black and white photo. “These are runways—and there’s a Christmas tree—where planes can park at forty-five degree angles and take off down the runway in fifteen second intervals. At the end here you can just make out a mole hole, the concrete bunker for the officers in command.”

“Holy crap. It’s the old Hawkhead Air Force base, one of the Strategic Air Command or SAC bomber bases. Shut down after the Cold War in the late sixties, early seventies. I read some shadow corporation bought it at a government auction for back taxes ten years ago. Caused quite a stir in the town next to it, then things seemed to settle down.”

“Guess whoever bought it was biding his time, building up his army.” He tapped a large building. “I bet this building next to the runway is where they create the parts and assemble the drones. I’m going to do a remote viewing, get a better look at the place so we can start to make a plan to get in there.”

Coming up behind Bronco, Tallulah cleared her throat. “What about our businessmen? Any luck with their story?”

He turned his head and spoke over his shoulder. “The IDs are fake.”

Tallulah gasped. “What do we do?”

“Right now, nothing. It’s good you made color copies of the drivers’ licenses. Bert’s running those through a facial recognition program. He’s going to call when he gets a hit.”

“Honey,” Lucius said as he strolled into the kitchen. “If those people try to harm a hair on your head, they will pay for it.” He pointed at his leg. “Between the medicine stick and Old Betsy, my Colt Six-Shooter, we’ve got you covered. Plus, Bronco’s going to look for them when he gets into his remote viewing routine.”

Bronco looked at Emma, “Since Lucius is going to be occupied with guarding the house while I’m in my altered state, I need you to take notes while I talk. Think you can handle that?”

“Yes, of course I can ‘handle that’,” she said testily. “I’m not illiterate.”

“Just checking, making sure you’re still on board.”

Heat rose in her cheeks, but this time the source was anger, not attraction. “This is my mission, too, Bronco. Don’t you dare forget.”

“Message received,” he snapped. “Over and out. Let’s get going. We can use my room—unless you have an objection?”

“That’s fine,” she ground out between her teeth. “Do you plan to take Gaucho with us?”

“Not necessary.”

“Good, because he and Franny are snoozing in a patch of sun over there,” she barked. “They had a lot of sausages. Is that okay? Lucius can look after him while we work.”

“Good,” he snarled. “If I were any better, there’d be two of me.”

Lucius put his fingers on his lips, and a dimple grew in his cheek.

Emma glared at him, “Not a word.”

“I didn’t say a thing, did I darlin’?” He turned to Tallulah. “But come to think of it, don’t they sound like we did not too long ago?”

Tallulah poked him in the ribs. “This is not the time.”

“I’m just sayin’,” he protested and smirked.

“We have work to attend to in the office. The books won’t keep themselves,” Tallulah said as she dragged her husband out of the room.

Emma grabbed a notepad and pen from the kitchen counter and pointed to the door. “Lead the way. I’ll be your scribe.”

Bronco sauntered ahead of her, his altogether too cute butt in his tight jeans and Beautiful’s comments reminding her of what she was missing in her life. Too late now, she’d closed that door good and tight, and he was unlikely to open it from the inside.