Whiskey Mountain, Wyoming backcountry
“Goddammit, slow down! I need to catch my wind. The air’s so thin up here I can hardly breathe.”
Reid ground his teeth. It would probably help if you dropped about eighty pounds.
In their brochure, Everett’s Extreme Expeditions cautioned potential clients about the need for physical conditioning prior to a backcountry trek, but some folks seemed to think money took care of everything. This one was worse than most.
Frank Barstow had expected not just a private guide, but a personal pack mule. Reid. He’d been carrying almost all the gear since they’d left their lakeside base camp. Apparently, Barstow didn’t know the unspoken law among all outdoorsmen—you pack your own shit or you leave it behind.
They’d ridden the horses as far as they could, but that was about five miles back. The rest of the way was wild and rugged terrain, only accessible by foot. It was also all uphill, which made it the perfect habitat for the country’s largest wild herd of bighorn sheep.
“I dropped almost ten grand on this hunting trip,” Barstow continued to grouse. “We’ve been hiking this goddamned wilderness for the better part of a week, and I haven’t seen a single elk to show for all that.”
“You’ll get your elk just like you got your bighorn sheep,” Reid promised. “Or I’ll refund half your money.”
Jared would shit a brick if he heard that promise, but Reid was damned tired of rich assholes who treated hunting guides like lesser beings. He’d been home three months, but he was wrong to think he’d be able to slip right back into his old life. They all expected it though. He was resentful about playing babysitter to begin with, but it was only getting harder to keep his mouth shut and temper in check—especially with Barstow.
He was a big man with a ginger-colored beard who reminded Reid all too much of a certain Austin Powers’ henchman with the same initials. He’d told Reid to call him FB, but Reid secretly thought of him as “Fat Bastard” ever since.
Reid dropped his pack and pulled out two water bottles, offering one to FB who waved it aside with a grunt, only to pull out a flask of Scotch instead. The guy drank like a fish. Reid hoped the man wouldn’t have a coronary before the trip was over. He didn’t know how the hell he’d get FB back down the mountain if he did.
“We’ve got about another half mile and then we’ll make camp up on that ridge.” Reid pointed up ahead. “There’s a gorge down below where the elk come for water. We might catch some of them at dusk, but the best time is gonna be right before sunup.”
That was the second problem. Fat Bastard liked to eat and sleep. While Reid was used to hitting the trail with a thermos of instant coffee and a wad of beef jerky in his pack, FB refused to budge before breakfast. Eggs—sunny-side up with no brown around the edges. That’s right. He was camp cook now too. Went along with the private guide gig.
Two more days, he reminded himself, and then he’d take a few off. Maybe get away for some badly needed R & R. Tonya was slowly wearing him down to go away with her to Chico Hot Springs. He’d avoided giving her any answer for as long as he could. He was still trying to get his head straight.
He didn’t love her. Didn’t know if he ever could, but she was an old friend of the family, a decent companion, and keen to get back together. They had a lot in common, and he was damned tired of being alone. He was on the wrong side of thirty now and wanting to settle down. Hell, the way things were going, he’d probably be digging out her old engagement ring before year’s end. That was a dangerous thought.
“You rested?” he prodded FB. “We don’t have much daylight. Maybe another hour or two, and we still need to set up camp. If we move it along, we can try and spot some of those elk.”
It took nearly an act of God to get FB moving before sunup, but by the time its rays were melting the shadows, they were in position overlooking the river below. Reid peered through his glasses into the tree line. Just as he’d hoped, several elk were emerging to drink.
“You’re in luck, Barstow.” He handed him the field glasses. “There’s a six-point bull down there with your name on it.”
“Where? I don’t see it.”
“There. About ten yards into the tree line. You’d best get that twenty-pound cannon of yours ready.” Reid hoped to hell the guy knew how to fire the thing. “You sure you don’t want to shoot mine?” He offered his .300 Winchester.
“I know what I’m doing,” FB growled. “I bought this baby specifically for big game.”
“Maybe so, but if you’re not careful, the recoil from that fifty cal will take your head off.”
At any closer range, the rifle would also destroy any chance of claiming the elk as a trophy, but they were at least four hundred yards out. FB fancied himself an expert marksman. He’d literally bought lock, stock, and barrel into the new cult of distance shooting. It was also why he’d forked over ten grand to hire a guide who was a former marine scout sniper. Reid’s reputation was a mixed blessing.
FB handed Reid his field glasses, raised his rifle, and peered through the scope just as the bull emerged into the clearing followed by a small herd of cows.
“Don’t take the shot until he’s completely in the clear, nothing within 15 meters on either side of him,” Reid instructed the hunter and then called off some adjustments. The elk raised its head and bugled, a sound that not only attracted elk cows, but gave every big game hunter an instant hard-on. “Got him sighted?” Reid asked.
FB grunted. The bull stood stock-still, in a broadside stance—a perfect kill shot.
“All right now. Take a deep breath, exhale slowly, and then fire,” Reid advised.
“Holy shit! Look at that!” In the instant FB would have pulled the trigger, the bull spun around to face one of the biggest wolves Reid had ever seen. A second and third wolf emerged and slowly circled, flanking the bull who now had the river at its back and almost nowhere to run.
“Don’t shoot,” Reid said. “You’ve lost your chance.”
“Fuck that! If I can’t have my elk, I’ll take the wolf.”
“The hell you will,” Reid growled. “Wolves are endangered in Wyoming.”
“Then I’ll pay the fucking fine. I’m taking down that wolf.”
Should he disarm him? His job was not only to keep the client safe, but also to ensure no laws were broken during the hunt. But Reid hesitated too long. The rifle exploded and kicked back straight back into FB’s face. He screamed and threw the gun down, blood streaming down his face.
Ignoring the hunter, Reid snatched up the field glasses, hoping the stupid son of a bitch had missed. The herd had bolted, but the first wolf was down, bleeding heavily and struggling to recover its feet. It was then Reid noticed the animal’s radio collar. Shit.
The other two wolves were circling, teeth bared. Double shit.
They wouldn’t miss a meal after all. They were ruthless killers that way, even to their own kind. In seconds they’d rip their injured pack mate to shreds. With no other choice but a mercy kill, Reid quickly chambered a round and took his shot.
* * *
Haley had been scanning the GPS reports all morning, correlating every collared wolf with its last tracked position on her digital map. She did this daily, notifying wildlife services whenever a wolf encroached on areas occupied by grazing livestock. It was a tedious task but necessary to protect both wolves and cattle. She also hoped her efforts would help to build a better rapport with the ranching community, not that she’d expected much progress on that front.
She paused with a frown when she came to number 442, the main breeding female she’d studied for her doctoral dissertation. She shoved the report aside to pull out the one from the day before that showed 442 deep in the Whiskey Mountains. Impossible! Although a wolf on the hunt could easily cover fifty miles in a day, there was no way in hell she’d traveled into the city of Jackson.
Haley’s throat tightened. The positioning signal could mean only one thing—Cinderella was dead.
* * *
With only seventy-two hours to report the wolf incident, Reid drove into Jackson. He’d already filed the compulsory report to the Board of Outfitters in Cheyenne. Although an investigation would still follow, the board had assured Reid that the hunter would be charged, but there wouldn’t be any upshot for Reid’s mercy kill. He knew the board had gone easy on him due to his family’s upstanding reputation, but he still had to turn in the collar to Wyoming Game and Fish.
“Ah, Reid! I’d heard you were back.” Jim Banks, the regional chief of WGF, extended his hand with a smile. “I’m glad to see you home safe.”
“You might not be so happy to see me once you know why I’m here,” Reid replied.
“And why’s that?”
Reid held up the radio collar. “An overzealous trophy hunter. I’ve already made my report to the Board of Outfitters.”
“I see.” Jim accepted the collar with a grimace. “Unfortunately, I’m not handling wolves anymore. We have a new federal liaison who’s overseeing wolf management. C’mon. Let me introduce you to her.”
Reid didn’t relish meeting the new liaison with news of a dead wolf, but he figured the circumstances were best explained in person. There was no honest way around it. Jim continued with a few more trite remarks as he led Reid down a short hallway of offices.
They stopped at the last door where a tiny blonde sat behind a desk frowning over a stack of papers. Jim knocked. She looked up. Her gaze flickered from Jim to Reid and then stuck. Her eyes widened and her smile froze.
Holy shit. It couldn’t be.
Reid’s chest seized as his gaze honed in on a face he’d never forgotten. And one he’d never expected to see again. She was five years older now, wore her hair differently, and hid her pretty green eyes behind ugly glasses, but he’d recognize her anywhere.
“Reid.” Jim’s voice jarred him out of his shock. “I’d like to introduce Dr. Haley Cooper. Dr. Cooper, this is Reid Everett. His family runs one of the oldest backcountry hunting outfits in the region.”
* * *
Oh my God. It’s him. I can’t breathe.
Recognition simultaneously numbed her mind and struck her dumb. What were the chances of running into Reid Everett after all this time? She’d never even considered the possibility when she’d accepted the job.
Haley cleared her throat, but her voice still emerged as a barely audible croak. “Mr. Everett and I are already acquainted. We met several years ago in California.”
Reid raised a brow. “So you haven’t forgotten?”
“No,” she said. “I haven’t forgotten.” Although she’d done her best to, his image had never faded in her mind. It was still there as crystal clear as it had been at their parting. But this man, the one who seemed to use up all the air in her office, was so changed that she might not have known him without the introduction.
His hair was longer and lighter, and his face was leaner, the angles sharper. There was a hardness to his mouth, and gone was the hint of humor from his blue eyes. He’d always dwarfed her, but now seemed so much bigger. But it wasn’t just his appearance, there was something different in his whole demeanor, an edge that he’d never had before.
“What a coincidence,” Jim remarked, oblivious to the tension that charged the air. “Since you know each other, perhaps Reid here would like to orient you to the region in my place? Dr. Cooper has yet to get the lay of the land,” he explained to Reid, who still hadn’t even blinked.
“There’s really no need,” she blurted. “I know the area quite well already. I spent two years in Yosemite and Grand Teton National Parks when I was working on my dissertation.”
“Maybe you know the geography,” Jim countered, “but you don’t know the people. The ranchers and outfitters here are a close-knit community. The Everetts know them all. I can’t think of anyone better suited to be your guide.” He chuckled. “No pun intended.”
“I’d be pleased to show Dr. Cooper around,” Reid replied in a soft, deep baritone that sent ripples over her skin.
“Another time, maybe,” she replied tightly. “I have a lot to do. I’m really swamped.”
“Then I’m sorry to add to your burden,” Jim said.
“What do you mean?” Even as she asked, her gaze tracked to the radio collar in his hands. “Oh my God! What happened?”
“Reid here can fill you in. No doubt the two of you have a lot of catching up to do anyway. Guess I’ll leave you to your business now. Good to see you again, Reid.” Jim laid the collar on her desk, tipped his hat, and left.
Haley stared helplessly after him, struggling to maintain her equilibrium and silently cursing him for leaving her alone with Reid. First, she’d received the shock of seeing him again, and now had a dead study subject to deal with? And not just any subject. She picked up the collar, tracing the number with her fingers, shutting her eyes on a whisper. “Cinderella.”
Reid’s brows pulled together. “Come again?”
“This collar belongs…belonged…to 442 F. I was part of the team who captured and collared her as a pup. We called her Cinderella.”
“Unusual name for a wolf,” he remarked. “I could see maybe Red Riding Hood, but Cinderella?”
“She was an unusual specimen, an underling who rose to become the alpha female of one of the largest and most powerful wolf packs in the Tetons. Thousands of wolf-watchers loved her. National Geographic even made a documentary about her. She did so many things wolves don’t do. I built my entire doctoral dissertation around her.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said softly.
Haley stared at the GPS collar fighting back tears. “You couldn’t possibly understand.”
“Why would you say that?” Reid propped a hip on the edge of her desk. “Do you think I don’t care about animals just because I hunt? You couldn’t be more wrong, Dr. Cooper. I happen to love all animals and have a special regard for wolves and bears and big cats. But I also adhere to the belief that apex predators need to be kept in check for their own safety, as well as humans’.”
“By killing them, Reid?” she snapped. He was so different. They both were. But some things hadn’t changed. They were still opposite poles of the magnet.
“Sometimes. But only when the numbers require it. Hunting itself isn’t evil. It’s humane if done responsibly. In the end, I think you and I both want the same thing—for people and wildlife to coexist. We just go about it in different ways.”
“This wolf was central to the project I’m working on,” she continued tersely. “She’s part of the reason I came here. I had hoped for several more years to study her.” She looked up at Reid with a sick churning in her gut. “Wait a minute. What do you have to do with all this?”
“I’m the one who turned the collar in.”
“You were there?”
“Yes. I was there.”
She fired off the next question before even taking a breath. “What happened to her?”
He doffed his hat and raked a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh. “She was shot during an elk expedition.”
“Shot? But it’s illegal to hunt wolves in Wyoming. In fact, it’s a felony. The ESA is very specific about this. It prohibits harassing, harming, pursuing, hunting, shooting, wounding, killing, trapping, capturing, or collecting any listed species. I promise you, if this was a willful rather than accidental kill, someone’s gonna pay.”
Reid met her gaze levelly. “I’m well aware of all that. It’s my job to make sure those kind of things don’t happen.”
“Then how the hell was she shot? What exactly happened on this elk hunt?”
Reid scrubbed his face, visibly agitated. “I’d like to say it was an accident, but it wasn’t. I was hired as a private guide by someone who should never have been allowed a hunting license.”
“Then why did you take the job?”
“Because he paid me. It’s how I make my living. Lots of people come to Wyoming to hunt. It’s impossible to screen every prospective client. I do my best to keep all my clients safe and to uphold the game laws, but this was beyond my control. By the time I realized he was going to shoot it was too late to stop him. Believe me, if I’d had any clue something like this was gonna happen, I would have refused the job.”
“Really.” She pursed her mouth in disbelief.
“Yeah. Really. I uphold the game laws, Dr. Cooper. I’ve already made my full report to the Board of Outfitters.”
She pushed out of her chair to stand eye to eye with him. “This won’t go unanswered.”
“I can understand why you’re upset, but please try to put it in perspective. She was a wild animal and shit like this sometimes happens. Hell, more wolves are killed by each other every year than by man.”
“But this shouldn’t have happened at all. I’m requesting a full inquiry.”
“I told you the Board of Outfitters is already handling it,” Reid assured her.
“I don’t care. I’ll still be doing my own investigation. I have questions, Reid, and until those are answered to my complete satisfaction, I’m recommending the suspension of your license.”
“What? You’re putting both my reputation and my livelihood on the line here! We were friends once, Haley. Hell, we were even lovers. Don’t you think I deserve a little more courtesy?”
She clenched her teeth. “Our past has no bearing on this whatsoever. If this event goes unanswered, it’ll be open season on all wolves in Wyoming. I’m not about to let that happen.”
Her position required her to maintain neutrality, but he was clearly in the enemy camp. She could never allow him a pass due to their former relationship.
“I don’t appreciate your insinuations, Dr. Cooper. No one is trying to hide anything. I told you I made a full report.”
“Then you have nothing to fear from an inquiry. If there was no wrongdoing there’s no cause for concern. The suspension will be lifted.”
“How long? We have groups booked for the entire elk season.”
“I guess your family will have to make due without you for a few weeks. Just be thankful they don’t shut the whole operation down.”
“They or you?” He stood, towering a full foot over her with eyes as frosty as snow-covered peaks. He snatched up his hat and shoved it on his head, turning for the door with long, angry strides. Halfway there, he stopped, facing her one last time. “I guess that tour I promised you is off. I’ll see you next at your damned inquisition.”
* * *
Half an hour later, Reid threw a leg over the saddle that served as a barstool at the Million Dollar Cowboy.
“How’d it go?” Jared asked.
Reid ignored the question to order a double bourbon with a beer chaser.
“That bad, eh?” his brother smirked.
“You keep up with all the political bullshit. What the hell is this Rocky Mountain Wolf Management Task Force anyway?” Reid asked. “Why doesn’t the WGF handle the wolves like they do all the other wildlife issues?”
“It’s too controversial. You know as well as I do that the tree huggers are looking for any excuse to delay delisting those sonsofbitches.”
“Maybe… Probably,” Reid amended.
Jared continued, “This task force is supposed to be an independent review board, but I’ve been checking on their new appointee. Independent, my ass. Did you know Dr. Cooper worked for one of the very same groups that sued the state last year? They won. Now we’ve got a new plan to manage wolves, and they don’t like this one either.” He shook his head and took a swig of beer. “So how’d it go with Dr. Haley Wolf Lover anyway? I’m guessing by your expression she broke your balls.”
“Yeah. You might say that.” Reid downed his bourbon in one long, burning swallow. He set the glass down with a sigh. “She’s going to have my license suspended while she investigates.”
“Fuck that!” Jared protested.
“I don’t see a hell of a lot we can do about it if she’s the one calling the shots. Why didn’t you give me a heads up about her anyway? Had I known it was her…” He could only hope she’d see reason once she got over her initial shock.
“Maybe you can make this whole wolf-kill business go away. You should take one for the team, Reid. Buy her a steak dinner and nail her.” Twice-divorced, Jared was the man-whore of the family. He raised the long neck to his lips with a wink.
“She doesn’t eat steak.”
“A vegetarian? That figures. Then make it a fucking tofu burger. You’re missing my point. You can make this easier on yourself by making it hard in her. Do her justice, and she’ll forgive and forget quickly enough. A good dinner and a better fuck have always worked for me.”
“Don’t talk about her like that, Jared.”
His brother’s gaze narrowed. “Why so defensive?”
“I know her.”
“How?”
“She’s from San Jacinto, not far from Camp Pendleton.”
“Did you do her?”
“That’s none of your fucking business, Jared, and not even remotely related to this conversation.”
“Guess I got my answer.” Jared smirked. “But you’re wrong, little brother. It’s entirely relevant because it puts you in a unique position to find out what she’s really doing here.”
“This is bullshit. If you want to know something, just ask her. I’m not going to act as your spy.”
Jared’s mouth compressed. “Maybe you don’t realize what’s really on the line here. The ranchers. The hunting outfits. Our business. Your livelihood. We’re all hurting, and it isn’t going to get any better until we can control the vermin that caused this problem.”
To Jared, the only good wolf was a dead one.
“So, what’s the real deal with you and her anyway? I admit she isn’t bad on the eyes, but once she opens her mouth…” He shuddered.
“There’s not much to tell. We met at a dance club before my third deployment. We saw each other for a little while, but that was a long time ago.” He upended his bottle.
“Are you going to see her again?”
“Hell if I know. We didn’t exactly reunite on the most auspicious terms.”
When he’d seen her, at first he’d hoped… He shook his head. Hell, he didn’t even know what he’d hoped, but the Cinderella incident had set them back not just three steps, but three miles.
“So what’s going on between you and Tonya these days?” Jared suddenly asked.
“I dunno,” Reid answered noncommittally. He wondered what was behind all his brother’s questions. He and Jared had never been close and were certainly not confidants. At times like this, Reid missed Garcia. Not that Raf wouldn’t have jerked his chain exactly the same way, but somehow it was easier to take this kinda shit from his marine buddy than from his older brother. “Why so interested?” he asked Jared. “You lookin’ to make Tonya ex-wife number three?”
Jared’s gaze darkened. “Mebbe.”
Holy shit. Reid tipped his hat back and stared at his brother as if seeing him for the first time. “You and Tonya?” He didn’t know what exactly clued him in, but suddenly it all made sense. “When, Jared? Answer me that. Are you the reason she called it off with me? I deserve to know.”
“I s’pose you do. It was New Year’s Eve. You were gone… Tonya was depressed and lonely… I was on the rebound after the split with Rita…”
“You low-crawling bastard!”
“Look, Reid. It was after she broke it off with you. We were both drunk or it never would have happened. Then again, you left without putting a ring on her finger.”
Reid gave an incredulous laugh. “Are you trying to say it’s my fault? Shit. I can’t fucking believe this.”
“I ain’t saying nothing of the kind,” Jared replied. “But it’s all water under the bridge now, and she regrets it. Not because it wasn’t good,” he added, too damn quickly. “But it’s never happened between us since.”
“But you want her?”
“Mebbe,” Jared repeated. “I’ve been waiting to see if you’d pick it back up with her. I’d step aside if you still wanted her, but it seems to me you’re in no big hurry to rush her down the aisle.”
Reid wanted to tear his brother’s head off, but more for the act of betrayal than any true feeling of jealousy. He took a breath and then another swig of beer, willing away his impulse to pound Jared into dust. Somehow he’d always known there was someone else. She hadn’t exactly lied, but she hadn’t told him the whole truth either. Even if it really was after she broke with him, and she really was sorry, he’d never be able trust her again.
So much for digging out that engagement ring. Maybe he should go pawn it instead. Hell, if the investigation didn’t move in his favor, he might need the money for legal fees.