Why was she the last one to know Paul had an affair? So typical of the men on this ranch to keep stuff from her. Well, enough was enough. Granted Paul’s actions didn’t much matter anymore, but that wasn’t really the point.
Sylvie found Josh caring for the horses in the barn. “What is this I hear about Paul having an affair?”
The flash of guilt in Josh’s eyes told her all she needed to know. It was true. Yet no one had bothered to tell her. She should have gotten tested at the very least. “I—uh, found him with April. You remember her, right?”
“Yeah.” April had been one of their few female ranch hands. Hiring April and Jen had been her idea. She’d thought it would be good for the guys to have women working alongside them, proving they were just as capable as they were.
But she hadn’t anticipated Paul would have done something so blatant as to sleep with one of them. Maybe both.
“Look, Sylvie, I told your father and he was going to talk to you. And I thought he did, because it was only a week or two later that you kicked Paul out.”
His explanation only made it worse. “Why wouldn’t you come to me, Josh? He was my husband, and I was the one who needed to know. Not my father!” Her voice rose to the point she was shouting at him now.
“Easy, Sylvie,” Dawson’s voice said from behind her.
She spun around and glared at him. “Not your business, Steele.” Then she turned back to face Josh. “Did it ever occur to you that I should get tested to make sure he didn’t pass along some kind of disease?”
A flush crept over Josh’s features, as if discussing such things was uncomfortable for him. Seriously? They worked a ranch, mating was part of their everyday life. She stepped closer and punched her finger into his chest. “How long was it going on?”
Josh took a step back, as if desperate to get away from her. “I don’t know, probably not long. She left a few days later, and I figured that was because he gave her the boot.”
She had to fight the urge to stab him in the chest again. “Get out. I’ll finish with the horses.”
“I—um—ah, pretty much finished up.” Josh was almost babbling now. “I’m sorry Sylvie. I really thought your father told you.”
“I should have heard it from you!” She forced the words through clenched teeth.
“Go on, Josh, I’ll help her finish up here,” Dawson said.
“I don’t need your help.” She thrust her fingers through her hair, realizing she was acting like a bratty kid, but what part of her wanting to be alone didn’t they understand? “Just go. Both of you. Leave me alone.”
Josh eased around her, like she was a rattlesnake ready to strike. Once Josh and Dawson left, she went over to stroke Fanny. “Men are idiots,” she said to the mare. Fanny raised and lowered her head, letting out a whinny in agreement.
After a few minutes, she went from stall to stall, checking the horses. Josh had taken care of them, so there wasn’t anything more for her to do. Still, she lingered.
Humiliating that Josh and her father knew about Paul’s affair, while she didn’t. And really, why would her father mention it to Dawson? She lifted her gaze to the top of the barn, as if seeking answers.
None were forthcoming.
Fifteen minutes later, she closed the barn and headed back up to the ranch house. Her flash of anger had faded, leaving her more exhausted than ever. She knew better than to pilot the chopper when she wasn’t at her best. Flying over the ranch to search for her brother and his buddies would have to wait until tomorrow.
Thankfully there was no sign of Dawson as she entered the kitchen. His SUV was still outside, so she knew he hadn’t left. She could hear the TV from her dad’s room, but wasn’t in the mood to talk to him, either. It made her cheeks burn that he knew about Paul’s blatant disregard for their wedding vows yet hadn’t mentioned it.
Shaking her head, she decided she needed to get some sleep. Despite the lingering daylight outside thanks to the summer solstice, she went to her room. A hot shower eased her aches and soothed her temper. After drying her hair, she went to bed.
She slept like a rock, waking up feeling refreshed as the early morning sunlight filtered through her window. The dawn of a new day gave her hope they’d get to the bottom of whoever was behind these relentless attacks.
If Sean was the one responsible, she’d find him at one of his favorite camping spots. It shouldn’t take long to pin him down. She quickly dressed and headed to the kitchen.
Dawson was at the stove cooking breakfast. The way he pitched in to help was sweet, and she felt bad about how she’d lashed out at him in anger the night before. “Something smells great.”
“Good morning.” He smiled and gestured to the coffee pot. “Help yourself. Food will be ready shortly.”
“You know cooking for me isn’t your job.” She poured a large mug of coffee. “But thank you.”
“Hey, I like to eat, too.” He tossed a bit of bacon to Kilo who caught it mid air. The dog inhaled the morsal then licked his chops as if anticipating more.
“We’ll do the early morning chores first, then take up the chopper.”
“Works for me.” Dawson had two fry pans going. Since it seemed he had it under control, she leaned against the counter, and watched him. There was something—sexy about a man who cooked for his woman.
Whoa, where had that thought come from? She wasn’t Dawson’s woman. Sure, he kissed like no one’s business, but that didn’t mean she had any intention of becoming involved with him. She knew he wasn’t sticking around Dillon Montana.
And she wasn’t leaving. At least, not voluntarily. In a pine box? Maybe.
Sylvie told herself to enjoy the camaraderie while it lasted. One thing for sure, Dawson wasn’t going anywhere until they’d caught the assailant.
Likely, her brother.
“Ready?” Dawson asked. She realized he was holding two plates brimming with food.
“Oh yeah.” She crossed to the table, taking the seat next to him. She knew his prayer routine by now, and waited for him to start.
“May I take your hand?” His formal request made her blush.
“You never asked before,” she reminded him, placing her hand in his.
“You were pretty steamed last night, I didn’t want to risk getting slapped.”
“I didn’t slap anyone.” She narrowed her gaze in warning. “But keep it up and you will risk getting punched.”
Dawson’s grin only widened, then he gently squeezed her hand and bowed his head. “Dear Lord, we thank You for this wonderful food we are about to eat. We also thank You for keeping us safe in Your care and ask for Your continued guidance as we seek those who wish us harm, amen.”
“Amen.” She tugged her hand from his. “I have a good feeling about today. I’m sure we’ll find Sean’s camping spot.”
“You’re sure your brother is involved?” Dawson munched a slice of bacon. Kilo stretched out on the floor between them, but when Dawson frowned at the dog, he laid his head between his paws.
She shrugged. “I’m not sure about anything, but it seems the more likely scenario.”
“I have to agree, although I’m keeping your idiot ex on my list, too.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes. The food was delicious. She felt better prepared to face the day by the time they’d finished.
“Give me a few minutes to do the dishes,” Dawson said, as he carried his plate to the sink.
“I’ll do it,” she protested. “You take care of Kilo.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. Come, Kilo.”
They yellow lab jumped up, tail wagging as he followed Dawson outside. The kitchen seemed unusually empty after they left, but she told herself to get over it. She was just finishing when her dad came in with his empty plate.
“Where’s Dawson?”
“Outside with Kilo.” She should have realized Dawson had made breakfast for her dad, too. She took the plate from his hands and quickly washed it. “We’ll probably take the chopper up later this morning.”
Her father nodded. “Okay.”
She glanced at him, a bit concerned that he hadn’t asked more questions. It was as if he’d given up all interest in running the ranch.
It made her wonder if her father secretly wanted to sell the ranch, too. The way Sean did. Was she the odd man out? Was she holding onto something the other two didn’t want?
She shook off the depressing thoughts. “Have you spoken to Landon Steele?”
“Not yet. I’ll call him later, after the early morning chores are finished.” Her father filled a coffee cup, then sat at the table. He eyed her over the rim of his mug. “Nice of Dawson to make breakfast.”
“Yes, it was.” She inwardly groaned, knowing her father was already thinking she and Dawson were some sort of an item. “He’s a great guy, but I’m not sure he’s here in Montana to stay.”
“Hrmph.” Her father scowled. “He needs to take his place as rightful owner of the Copper Creek.”
Dawson’s plans weren’t her concern. Or rather, they shouldn’t be her concern. She finished washing and drying the dishes. She was itching to get outside, but took a moment to sit beside her father. “Have you spoken to Sean lately?”
“No.” Her father shrugged. “I’m not worried. I’m sure he’ll come back soon enough.”
Yeah, when she was hurt or lying in a hospital bed, she thought sourly. She drained her cup and stood. “I need to get to work. Call Landon, I’m sure he’ll make time to stop by for a visit.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Her father waved her away. As she headed outside, she realized her father hadn’t left the house in several days. Granted the chemo and radiation treatments had taken a toll on his strength, but sitting inside all day wasn’t good for him, either.
She suppressed a sigh. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about, now this. She made a mental note to drag her father outside, gently forcing him to take over some of the less taxing chores once they returned from searching for her wayward brother.
Dawson met up with her, Kilo trotting happily at his side. She noticed he’d taken to wearing his gun holstered on his lean hip, and found that oddly comforting. “Let’s get to work. The sooner we get the chopper up, the better.”
She nodded and they walked to the barn. Josh was up on one of the geldings, Tucker. He flushed when he saw her but didn’t mention anything about the previous night. “Sylvie, we’re heading out to move the cattle from the south pasture to the east.”
“Good. We’ll take care of things, here.” She glanced at Dawson. “After we take clean the horses stalls, we’ll gather eggs from the chicken coop.”
“Sounds like fun,” he drawled.
It wasn’t, but his comment made her laugh. And working alongside Dawson made the time go by much faster. Looking back, she should have realized her marriage to Paul wasn’t meant to be. He’d never worked alongside her like this.
Enough. She wasn’t going to waste another second thinking about Paul. Easier to do, if she didn’t have Dawson standing next to her, whistling cheerfully as he mucked out Fanny’s stall.
Dawson, who seemed to be everything Paul wasn’t, and more.
Sylvie seemed to be in a better mood this morning, and he was glad she wasn’t the type to hold onto her anger. Ranch chores didn’t seem so bad when they were shared, and roughly ninety minutes later, they were finished.
“I’ll leave Kilo with your dad,” he said, after they’d washed up. “I’m sure your dad won’t mind.”
“He won’t. In fact, you need to tell him to take Kilo outside often, like every hour or so. Dad needs to get out more, he’s been sitting around inside for too long.”
“Done.” He looked down at Kilo. “Come on, boy.”
Ten minutes later, they were headed for the chopper. Sylvie stopped just outside the hangar and turned to look up at him. “I’d like you to pilot the bird, Dawson, so I can search the mountainside.”
“Sounds good to me.” He was more than happy to take the stick. “I hope we find something.”
“Me, too.” Her tone sounded grim.
He pulled the chopper out of the hangar and onto the landing pad. He went around the bird, doing a quick maintenance check, finding the machine in good shape. He had to give Sylvie credit for the way she handled every aspect of the ranch.
And hated to admit how much it bugged him that she had to do so much alone. Sure, Josh was there, along with a half dozen ranch hands, but a place this size needed more.
Once they were seated, headphones covering their ears, he went through the pre-flight check. Sylvie did, too, as a double check. When he was satisfied, he started the engine. The blades whirled overhead, and it didn’t take much to get airborne.
“Where would you like to start?” He asked via the intercom.
“North ridge,” Sylvie said, gesturing to the right. “But don’t get too close to the mountain.”
“Roger that.” He understood the danger. After banking the chopper around a curve, he headed toward the north ridge. From up here, the lizard trail looked even more treacherous. Way down at the bottom of the trail, he could see the boulder that had nearly hit them.
He kept the bird as low as possible, while staying clear of the tree line. Thankfully there very little wind to worry about.
Sylvie peered out her window, intently scanning the side of the mountain.
“Why the north ridge?” He glanced over her shoulder to see what may have caught her attention.
She didn’t answer right away. “There’s a shallow cave, not far from the lizard trail. We used to camp there during the summer. Figure that may be where Sean is hiding out.”
Maybe, but if Sean was smart, he’d know Sylvie would think to search for him there. Dawson didn’t point that out though. Better to focus on the task of flying.
He made two passes over the north ridge, without success. “Head to the west side, now,” Sylvie directed.
He did as she asked, moving along the western part of the mountain. The terrain was rougher there, he could see evidence of some small landslides raking down the steepest side of the mountain. Maybe the boulder hadn’t been pushed.
They flew for another ten minutes before Sylvie sat back in her seat. “I don’t see him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t down there.”
“I know.” He felt bad, yet also knew that if Sean had heard the chopper, he’d lay low until they were gone. “Maybe we should put the bird down somewhere and go on foot.”
“Not yet.” She turned to meet his gaze. “Sweep over the pastures, I want to check on the cattle Josh is moving.”
“You’re the boss.” He banked the chopper in a curve to fly over the wide open pasture. McLane Mountain hugged the ranch on the north and western sides, but the rest of the property consisted of wide green pastures extending for miles.
It was easy to spot Josh and the ranch hands as they drove the cattle from one pasture to the next. The herd was triple the size his father had.
Sylvie nodded in approval. “Looking good.”
“You want me to swing past the north ridge one more time?” He wasn’t sure how much fuel she wanted to waste in searching for her brother.
“Yeah.” She turned and peered out her window again.
He expected to do just one more sweep, but then she grabbed his arm. “Wait! I see something.”
“What?”
“A flash of red not far from the lizard trail, but in the opposite direction of the cave.” She didn’t turn to look at him. “Can you get a little closer?”
“Yep.” He banked the chopper to take another pass. Then he saw it too. Just a glimpse, but definitely something red. A man wearing a red shirt and blue jeans, perhaps. It was hard to tell for sure, because the color disappeared from sight.
Wouldn’t Sean know better than to wear red in the middle of the woods in June? Or had Sylvie’s younger brother just assumed she wouldn’t suspect him as the person responsible for the attacks?
“We need to put the bird down,” Sylvie said. “I want to search the area on foot.”
“We won’t be able to get too close,” he warned.
“I know. Just put it down at the edge of the pasture.”
He nodded and looked for the flattest section of the terrain, without getting too close to the edge of the mountain. He slowly lowered the helicopter to the location he’d chosen, setting it down with a mild thump.
“Nice work.” Sylvie ripped the headphones off as he shut down the engine. She shoved open her door. “Grab a water bottle from the back.”
He peered over his shoulder and took two bottles, handing one to her.
“Thanks. Let’s go.”
“It’s farther than it looks,” he cautioned as they set out.
“I know that.” She arched a brow. “It’s not likely we’ll find the person wearing a red shirt, but I feel confident we’ll find his campsite.”
“Okay.” He followed Sylvie up the side of the mountain, wishing he’d brought Kilo along after all. The yellow lab had a good nose for scent tracking. Granted, he’d only done a little scent training with Kilo, because the series of abdominal surgeries had interrupted his routine, making it difficult to maintain consistency. It wasn’t long after his last procedure, that his dad had requested help at the ranch.
The terrain was rocky, the hillside steep. Yet Sylvie hiked it without seeming to break a sweat. He kept up, reassured by the way she seemed to know where she was going.
Easy to imagine she and Sean had spent a fair amount of time on the mountain. They walked for roughly twenty minutes before she paused to rest.
“Any sign of a campsite?” He tried not to let his heavy breathing show as he took a sip from the water bottle. Painful to admit that he’d been in the best shape of his life while serving the Navy, only to have a gut load of shrapnel age him by well over ten years. He was glad he was armed, in case they stumbled across any wildlife. Or two legged varmints.
“Not yet.” She grimaced and took a swig from her water bottle. “But we will. At the very least we’ll find evidence of a guy hiking out here.”
“Maybe I should lead the way.” He replaced the cap on his bottle and gazed at her. “I’ve had some practice in tracking hostiles.”
She looked as if she might argue, then surprised him by nodding. “Okay, that’s fine. I’m sure as a former Navy SEAL you’re a far better tracker than I am.”
“Okay, which direction? Do you still want to head up the side of the mountain or spread out a bit?”
She considered his question. “I say we keep going up the mountain for now.”
“Sounds good. Ready?” He didn’t want to be the one holding them back.
“Lead on.” She stepped back so he could pass by.
He took a moment to get his bearings then headed up the barely visible trail. He searched for signs of a human being there recently but didn’t see anything unusual. Maybe he shouldn’t have boasted about his tracking ability. God didn’t like a braggart. He lifted his heart and silently prayed for the wisdom to find the attacker, before he struck again.
They walked for roughly ten minutes before he saw it. A very tiny tuft of red clinging to a pricker bush. He stopped and bent to examine more closely. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that it was a snag from a red shirt.
“He came this way,” Sylvie said in satisfaction. “Good eye, Dawson.”
He could feel his cheeks redden at her praise, which was ridiculous. “Thanks, but we still haven’t found his campsite.”
“We will.” Her voice rang with confidence. “Let’s keep going. We must be headed in the right direction.”
He thought so too, so he nodded and continued hiking. His abdominal muscles ached as they continued up the mountain, but he did his best to ignore it. Stopping wasn’t an option, and it seemed as if pain would be his constant companion for a while.
He stopped again, when he found a partial hiking boot print in the soft soil. “Check this out, Sylvie.”
“Yeah, it’s a hiking boot, not unlike the ones we’re wearing.” She knelt beside it for a moment, then looked up at him. “What do you think? Are we close to the spot where we saw him from the chopper?”
He turned to look back the way they’d come. The bird was sitting roughly two hundred yards below them. They’d come farther than he’d thought. Lifting his gaze to the sky, he checked out the west mountain ridge. “Not quite. I believe we saw him higher up than this. But we’re on the right track.”
“Let’s keep going.” She sounded energetic, which only made him feel older than his thirty-nine years.
He turned and headed up. They hit a particularly steep spot, and he had to grab onto small tree branches to keep from sliding backward into Sylvie. He was about to call off the climb, when the terrain leveled out.
“I remember this place,” Sylvie said. For the first time on this hike she sounded breathless. “If we go to the west, there’s an area that’s even wider and there’s a rock there, that provides some shelter from the wind.”
“You think that might be where the campsite is located?”
Her green gaze held his. “There’s only one way to find out.”
He pulled his weapon from its holster, and was glad he’d also brought the MK3 knife favored by the SEALs.
If they were walking into a trap, he wanted to be ready.
“I’ll go first.” Sylvie’s voice had dropped to a whisper. Since she knew the area, and the place they were headed, he nodded in agreement.
They moved slower now, taking care not to make noise. He listened intently as they approached, but didn’t hear anything unusual.
Sylvie’s steps slowed, then she paused near a tree. He went up to stand behind her. The large rock she’d mentioned was only twenty feet away.
And below the rock, was a sleeping bag, and a small fire pit. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that this was the campsite of the man in the red shirt. Unfortunately, there was no sign of the guy.
Dawson hoped and prayed the guy wasn’t lying in wait to ambush them.