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LOGAN STEPPED INTO the light of the campfire, a hopeful smile outlining his broad face. “I saw on your ranch brochure that overnight rides include a nightcap,” he said. “Well, this is definitely night time, and Petal is asleep.”
“I already put away the bottle,” Monty said, not moving from his seat on the log. “Would have offered but I didn’t think you’d want one.”
“I can get the whiskey,” Kate said. “Do the other guys want a drink too?”
“No, Kessler drew the short straw. I’m the one off tonight.”
Kate checked the clearing. The animals were settled for the evening, tied to the picket line, their darkened outlines barely visible. She couldn’t spot Jack or Kessler within the trees. And if the men were looking at the bright fire, their vision would be affected and they wouldn’t be able to see the panniers a stone’s throw away. This was likely the best chance for Monty to assemble a survival kit.
“I can’t remember which pack the whiskey’s in,” Kate said, kicking Monty’s boot. “Would you check for me? And maybe grab some peanuts at the same time.”
Monty inclined his head, rose and ambled toward the panniers. He looked utterly relaxed, as if the only thing on his mind was collecting the whiskey. However, once he was behind Logan he scooped up his backpack, hiding it behind his outer leg.
“I better go with him,” Logan said. “I have a good flashlight and the panniers are restricted.”
“Monty can do it.” Kate patted the log beside her. “You deserve a rest after riding all day and then standing in the woods for hours.”
“I am a little tired, just from slapping flies.” He settled down beside her and stretched out his thick legs. “Besides, I’d rather talk with a beautiful woman than a grumpy old guide.”
Kate’s mouth tightened. She’d heard Logan make snide comments before, but this was the first one directed at Monty. She wasn’t the type to sit back and let someone talk about a friend. However, she bit back her reply, knowing it was more important to humor the man, and just hope he wouldn’t notice that Monty was gone a few extra minutes.
“It’s a beautiful night,” she said.
His leg brushed hers. She automatically inched away, then forced herself to remain still.
“Yes,” Logan said. “Too beautiful to waste babysitting spoiled girls. Or checking sweaty mule packs.”
She gave him a sharp glance, wondering if his comment about the packs was a warning about sneaking to the pannier. But his expression remained bland.
“All we need is a pool and a warm Jacuzzi,” he said, “and we could pretend we’re like them. Everyone catering to us for a change.”
There it was again. Another dig. But as long as he was sitting beside her, and not supervising Monty, she should humor the man.
“I like the bubbling river,” she said. “And the sound of fish jumping. It’s as nice as any manmade pool.”
Logan gave a disparaging snort. “But we’re stuck sleeping on the hard ground. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t prefer a hotel bed with silk sheets and champagne.”
“I’m not pretending anything,” she said, blinking in surprise.
“Come on. I know what women want. At least my girlfriends are honest.” His sneer changed to an irritated groan as giggles leaked from the middle tent. “Sounds like the girls are still awake,” he said. “Let’s hope they’re talking about seeing the mustangs tomorrow. It’ll be awkward if Tyra refuses to ride. Petal has been planning this for almost a year.”
“I thought it was a last-minute booking?”
“The actual ranch was. But not the trip.” He paused, studying Kate’s face as if concerned about revealing state secrets. Then he seemed to decide she was harmless. “The less people know,” he said, “the easier it is to keep her safe. But a trip like this has been in the works for a while now. That’s why we upped our riding to three days a week.”
He rubbed the inside of his thigh. “I should have ridden more though,” he admitted. “My horse is wider than the ones in Washington. Do you have any liniment around?”
“I’ll check the first aid kit later,” she said, her irritation with the man fading. Not many riders admitted they were sore on the first day, and she certainly didn’t expect it from an elite government agent. But if she left Logan alone by the fire, he’d notice the length of Monty’s absence. She needed to keep him entertained a little bit longer.
Act interested, Allie always advised. Men love a woman who hangs on their every word. But Kate had never been good at pretending, and she’d already discovered that Logan tended to brag. She wished Monty would come back and fought her urge to check the shadows. If only it was Jack who was off tonight. He was easier to talk to. Easier to look at too.
She forced an empathetic smile. “The western saddles are bigger than you’re used to,” she said. “So it makes the horses seem wider. Your leg muscles probably had to stretch a bit.”
“Yeah,” Logan said. “Guess you don’t have that problem anymore, now that you don’t ride horses. Mules are narrower, aren’t they?”
She peered at him, but he was busy pulling off his boots and examining a blister. She already knew he’d reviewed her background but he seemed to think she was afraid to ride horses. He was wrong. She rode them a lot. She just preferred not to ride them in the mountains.
“Belle is narrower,” she said, steering the conversation to a more comfortable topic. “But some of our mules are draft crosses so they’re bigger and wider than a quarter horse. Bubba’s sire was half Belgian. His feet are the size of dinner plates. Makes me wonder how big his parents were...?”
Logan just grunted. Unlike Jack, he wasn’t interested in mule breeding or the best trail saddles or even the soothing sound of the bubbling river. He just wanted to complain about his stiff muscles and now the tiny blister on his toe. She couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose as the smell of his sweaty socks filled the air.
And then he quit inspecting the sole of his foot to peer impatiently into the shadows. “I better go help Monty,” he said. “One drink and I’ll be able to get some solid sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”
“Oh, do you like wild horses too?” She leaned forward again, desperate for some way to keep his attention. “No wonder you’re her favorite.”
“Petal’s?” He gave a satisfied nod. “I was actually the one who taught her to drive.”
“She told us. That was so nice of you.” Kate batted her eyelashes, smiling up at him and feeling like a simpering idiot. If this was how she’d have to act all winter in the dance hall, she’d definitely need more lessons from Allie.
“Not so nice.” Logan gave one of his smug laughs. “I was under orders. But I was there—not Kessler—when she jumped her first cross rail. She’s way more comfortable with me than him.”
Obviously there was some competition between the two agents, but at least she’d found a subject that interested him. “She certainly talks about you more than anyone else,” Kate said. “And you’ll be the one with her when she sees her first mustang.” She paused, carefully watching his face. “Or will other agents be joining us?”
“Joining us?” He twisted, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”
“Just that we have so much food.” He still looked rather alarmed so she jokingly touched his arm. “Although I guess a strong guy like you needs a lot of calories...you know, to keep up your energy. How about I make you a s’more?”
“Yeah,” he said, looking down at her fingers splayed over his forearm. “Maybe I’ll stay up a bit. Keep you company. And maybe you’d like to help me rub on that liniment?” His voice lowered suggestively. “Which tent are you in?”
She yanked her hand back. “Monty and I sleep beneath the tarp. Open air. The tents are for guests.”
“Well,” Logan said, his eyes drifting over her breasts. “I’m suddenly not so tired. And I imagine you get bored doing all these trail rides for local hicks. So I’ll sit up a while longer. And you’re welcome to join me in my tent. You never know when it might rain.”
He stopped talking as Monty emerged from the shadows carrying a bottle of whiskey and a bag of peanuts. Logan rose and took the bottle. He untwisted the cap, lined up three tin cups and enthusiastically began pouring.
“None for me,” Monty said. His gaze found Kate’s and he gave a little nod. It was reassuring that he’d had time to prepare a getaway pack but the fact that he declined a drink showed the level of his concern. And magnified her own.
She covertly studied Logan. It would be a relief to tell someone about the trail blazes. Get it off her shoulders and let the Secret Service worry about it. Logan had an inflated opinion of his appeal, seeming to think any woman would be honored to have sex with him. Boorish but probably dependable. Certainly the White House trusted him. Still, she had a vague uneasiness and the feeling was growing the longer she was around the man.
She raised a questioning eyebrow at Monty but he just gave a little shrug, as if leaving the decision to her. Monty had certainly talked more to Logan than she had.
He’d ridden with Logan at the front of the line while she’d spent more time with Jack. However, the more she thought about it, the more she realized she didn’t know anything about Jack’s background.
And it was far too simplistic to judge a man by the thoughtful way he treated his horse, or be swayed by the fact that he’d been the one to jump in the river and rescue Tyra. That might mean Jack didn’t care so much about Courtney...and so was more susceptible to selling out her location.
She rubbed her forehead just as Logan pressed a full cup into her other hand. The amber liquid reached almost to the rim. “Should we save some for Kessler?” she asked, inhaling the pungent odor and pretending to take a sip.
“No, he never drinks.” Logan gave a dismissive snort. “He’s no fun at all. Orders coffee at the bars. It’s a mystery how he landed three wives.”
“So you’ve worked with both these guys before?” Monty asked.
“Only Kessler. Jack’s not part of our team.” Logan’s mouth tightened and just like the other two men, it was obvious he didn’t intend to reveal any details.
Kate took a real sip of whiskey this time, feeling the burn all the way down her throat. She needed to think. It seemed crazy not to trust the Secret Service men, and she certainly knew Logan better than Kessler. Kessler barely talked to her, other than to snap commands. And this might be her only chance to speak to Logan alone.
“Maybe I’ll go find Jack,” Monty said. “See if he wants a drink before the bottle’s gone.”
“He’s on the other side of the horses,” Logan said. “And Kessler is watching the path. Better call out though. Let them know you’re coming.”
“Do you expect trouble?” Kate asked, warmed by the whiskey. “It’s hard to believe anyone could find us here.”
The flickering firelight outlined Logan’s face and his emphatic head shake. “Of course no one can find us,” he said. “But Kessler is always suspicious. He only trusts fellow agents. It’s probably making him twitchy having Jack floating around.”
“But why is Jack here?” Kate asked. “What are his qualifications?”
“Ex-SEAL,” Logan said. “Hired by the President. Waste of manpower if you ask me. We certainly don’t need him.”
So Jack was a mercenary. And he wasn’t as tight with the other two agents as she’d assumed. Even Monty was quiet, as if absorbing this new information and struggling to decide who to trust.
An owl’s hoot floated eerily beyond the river, mingling with the sound of the bubbling water. Kate angled her head away from the crackling fire, trying to regain her night vision.
The river was an inky ribbon of darkness, but if someone approached it would likely be from that direction. And they probably shouldn’t be sitting so closely around the campfire, where anyone coming would be camouflaged by the night yet could easily pinpoint their positions.
She wiggled uneasily, squinting so hard at the river it seemed to be moving. Rising. Then a figure took shape, the outline of a cowboy hat silhouetted against the moon.
“Coming in,” Jack’s quiet voice announced.
Logan twisted, his hand jerking over his holster. “Hey,” he said, immediately relaxing. “How did you get back there? Thought you were by the horses.” He rose and rummaged for a spare cup. “Want a drink?”
“Sure,” Jack said. “I’d appreciate one of those s’mores too.” He stretched out on the log beside Kate, smoothly confiscating Logan’s spot.
Logan scowled, then thrust Jack a cup and shuffled over to sit beside Monty. He might consider Jack an outsider but it seemed he wasn’t up to challenging for the seat.
“The girls sound happy in the tent,” Jack said, glancing at Kate. Unlike Logan, he didn’t seem to resent the fact that they were still awake and having fun.
“Yes,” Kate said, “they’ve been laughing. Courtney is excited about seeing the mustangs so maybe Tyra will get pumped up about riding tomorrow.”
“I saw you in the river with the palomino. He looked quiet. Good job.”
The approval in Jack’s voice made her flush. And twisted up her feelings even more. How could she be so drawn to a man who might be placing their entire group in jeopardy? And the fact that he watched her schooling Slider in the river was rather disturbing.
Because she could have sworn he and Kessler were both on the other side of the clearing. A man who could move so stealthily and see so much would certainly have no trouble leaving secret tree blazes.
Yet when Jack’s hard thigh brushed against hers, warm even through the fabric of her jeans, she didn’t scoot away. She just savored the pleasure of his company, appreciating his keen intelligence along with his fresh smell and sexy voice, a voice that didn’t snap orders or gripe about petty things and instead could converse about a range of topics.
They sat for hours, with Jack making s’mores, Logan pouring whiskey, and Monty passing peanuts, talking companionably about horses, politics and how much bacon they should cook for breakfast. With Jack’s influence, even Logan seemed to appreciate the natural beauty of the constellations overhead. And she didn’t want the night to end, even after Monty stretched out on his bedroll beneath the tarp and Logan shuffled off to his tent.
“We better get some sleep too,” Jack said.
He wrapped her hand in his and tugged her up from the log, not mentioning where he was sleeping or making any suggestion that they extend the night. And she felt rather foolish for even thinking that he’d been paying her special attention, that he’d listened intently whenever she spoke and how he’d toasted her marshmallows more carefully than the ones for the others. Not burnt black but with that uniform toasty brown which only the most patient person could achieve.
But in a way it was good that he didn’t make a move because clearly she didn’t understand him. So she definitely shouldn’t trust him. And then he was cupping her face with his hands, and his lips were over hers, his mouth firm and demanding, and she quit thinking. Could only feel.
Wow, what a kiss. All night long his presence had heightened her senses, but now his mouth became her focal point, and the hooting owl, the crackling of the fire, even the rustling of the horses disappeared. All she knew was Jack, his lips, his tongue, his mouth as it joined with hers.
Then he pressed her head against his chest and simply held her, soaking her up, and she could hear the pounding of his heart, his ragged breathing, could feel his iron control. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there. One minute, five, maybe fifteen. She only knew her body was so boneless she could only cling to his broad shoulders.
He was the first to speak. “I know we’re both working,” he said, whispering against her hair. “But we’ll figure out where we’re going with this when we get back. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said.
