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THE HELICOPTER ROTOR whirred, leaving Kate’s ears throbbing. There were headphones in the back but no one was using them, perhaps because this helicopter was much quieter than others she’d ridden. The blond agent seated beside her certainly didn’t seem bothered. Nor did Jack. He was busy analyzing computer maps with two other agents, arguing over the most logical exit points for the terrorists.
Logan hadn’t been able to provide much information. Only that the plan was to deliver Courtney to a water plane on Echo Lake at fourteen hundred hours. At which time, ten million dollars would have been transferred to a bank account in the Cayman Islands.
She didn’t think Logan had lied. His questioning had been too efficient, too ruthless. The agent in charge had spoken softly, almost in whispers, but his hand had been on the wooden arrow sticking in Logan’s throat. Not trying to calm him as she’d been but threatening to twist the arrow. Logan had stopped swearing at Kate, quit moaning that he hadn’t done anything wrong. He even stopped referring to the girls as useless bitches. At that point a stony-faced agent had pulled Kate away, warning that she needed to wait in the cave until a second helicopter arrived.
She pressed the back of her head against the seat, unable to remember who was the medic and who was the agent who’d propelled her into the cave. All the men were physically impressive, almost interchangeable except for the color of their hair. Logan certainly hadn’t fared as well in the genetics department. After hearing his taunts to Jack, it was clear he was twisted with envy. Hated his job, his co-workers, even the people he’d sworn to protect. Still, to betray an innocent girl, to slit an agent’s throat, to threaten to shoot off Jack’s testicles... It was far beyond the scope of anything Kate had ever experienced.
She slipped her hands beneath her arms and shivered.
The agent seated beside her reached out and adjusted the blanket higher over her shoulders. “No need to worry,” he said. “Both girls have been extracted safely. Stay warm. We’ll be landing at the hospital in thirty minutes. You’ll be interviewed there. All your questions will be answered then as well.”
She could feel his scrutiny and guessed maybe he was the one who’d escorted her away from Logan. She’d heard his mutters too, while she’d been waiting alone in the cave. “What kind of woman can carve a bow and arrow?” the man had said, once Logan has been airlifted away. “Scale a vertical rock wall? Then take out a trained agent?”
A freak, she thought. This agent certainly seemed to consider her an oddity. Staring at her when he thought she wasn’t looking, monitoring her every move, remaining glued to her side rather than helping analyze the terrorists’ exit route.
Or maybe his real purpose was to keep her and Jack apart, prior to any interviews. She wasn’t sure how long the grilling would take, only that the last inquiry after the accident had been gut wrenching. Anything related to the White House would no doubt be much more intense. A ball of dread lodged deeper in her chest.
She averted her head. It had been almost a year since she’d ridden in a helicopter—not since the last accident—and she’d been avoiding looking out the window. However, staring down at the rolling foothills was easier than accepting that she was once again embroiled in tragedy. While it was a relief the rescuers had arrived so quickly, judging by their air of mistrust it was obvious there would be considerable blowback.
She knew the whispers weren’t so bad. She could handle rooms that silenced whenever she walked in. Avoiding social media was easy on the ranch. But it was the images that plagued her. And looking at countless pictures, being forced to justify her actions, only branded the trauma on her brain, making everything harder to forget. It was tough on her friends and co-workers as well.
“I have to tell you, Kate,” her boyfriend had said, “no one wants to work with you. You killed a horse. We’ve all seen the bloody pictures. It makes people uncomfortable, especially me. A beautiful woman like you isn’t supposed to be a killer, to be able to do things like that.”
She’d been hoping for a comforting hug, for reassurances that life would return to normal. Hadn’t realized her co-workers were uneasy until Andrew had pointed it out. “So it’s not because I’m afraid of heights?” she’d asked.
“Well, your ridiculous fear is obviously an issue. But since the boss considers you a hero”–his lip had curled at that absurdity—“nobody will admit the truth, even if you ask them. But you can’t do your job feeling the way you do. It’s dangerous for everyone. And let’s be honest, you’re bad luck. The decent thing would be for you to quit.”
And so she had. She didn’t want to endanger anyone. Had experienced enough blood and guilt to last a lifetime.
She’d packed up her clothes and saddle and the remnants of her pride and found a job where she didn’t have to venture into the mountains. Where nobody knew what she’d done, or even cared. And if her new co-workers heard a little gossip, they certainly refrained from judging. As Allie once said, everyone at the ranch was trying to escape something. The pay was far less but so were Kate’s needs. And the Mustang River Ranch had become her home.
But now a trail ride had ended in the biggest disaster in the illustrious ranch’s history. Deadly for horses as well as humans. She’d carved a bow and shot an arrow at a man’s throat. Notorious stuff. Even the federal agents were shaking their heads. No way could Sharon Barrett afford to keep Kate on staff. Her survival classes had never been popular. They’d be less so now. Guests wanted to relax at the ranch, not feel threatened.
She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting a wave of despair. The agent beside her refused to tell her anything, only that Courtney and Tyra were safe. While that was a relief, the fact remained that Kessler might still be alive if she had only trusted the man a little more. If she had just reported the slashed trees on the very first day.
Would the negative publicity bankrupt the ranch? No doubt, reservations would be cancelled. Bookings would plummet and fellow employees—her friends—would be laid off. And Sharon Barrett had been nothing but kind, the only person who had stepped forward and offered a job. While the guest ranch was an established business, capable of surviving a few lean years, insidious shadows would remain. A terrorist stigma was always a downer.
As well, the White House might be vindictive. Who even knew the President’s thought process? He’d be more bitter if Courtney were left traumatized. The poor girl would probably never want to ride a horse again. She’d only escaped because Jack was there. He was the one who’d sent her off with Monty, then acted as a decoy, leading Logan and his men in the opposite direction. He’d been prepared to sacrifice his life for Courtney, for all of them. He might have saved Kessler too if Kate had just told him about her suspicions. She dropped her head in her hands, her mind aching with images and questions and alternate scenarios.
But the “what ifs” didn’t help. Kessler was still dead, his broken body lying out there, alone and exposed to scavengers. So were the loyal horses who hadn’t done anything wrong except be obedient, and nobody would even tell her how the mules had fared. Those bogs to the south were belly deep and treacherous. If a mule had become stranded, Monty wouldn’t have had time to stop and free them. Maybe Belle was sinking in a bog right now, too smart to flail around but sinking nonetheless. Predators quickly sniffed out the weak and helpless.
Her mind jumped from images of animals ripped apart by wolves to Kessler’s bloody eye sockets being ravaged by the beaks of hungry crows. And all she could do was keep her back to the agent and fight the helpless feeling that she could have—should have—done more.
She felt the agent tug the blanket higher over her shoulders, but that wasn’t the kind of comfort she needed. Besides, he didn’t care about the animals or the ranch or Monty and Tyra. He only cared about the President’s daughter. She realized she was looking down as they passed over the foothills, no longer disturbed by her elevated view. And a tiny sob escaped, because even though she might be able to handle heights better now, that small triumph seemed trivial.
She already knew how this would turn out. Best to do the ethical thing and quit before she was asked to leave. That would make it easier for everyone—bosses, workmates, lovers. She didn’t even know how to categorize Jack, but she couldn’t deny he was behaving exactly the way her last boyfriend had. Distancing himself before the blowback started.
She and Jack had barely spoken since he’d used Logan’s radio to call in their coordinates. She’d been giving Logan medical aid when the first helicopter arrived, spilling out a load of grim-faced men. Jack had been swallowed in a blur of commands and harsh questions. She remembered a steely-eyed agent confiscating Jack’s gun, and all she could think about was that it didn’t even have any bullets.
The agent nudged her on the elbow, yanking back her thoughts. “Don’t touch those bandages,” he said. She realized she was picking at her hands, her agitation apparent.
“I’ve got this,” a familiar voice said.
“No,” the agent snapped. “I understand you work directly for the President but it’s important to follow protocol.”
“Move,” Jack said, and the steel in his voice could have cut glass.
Then his strong arms wrapped around her, his chin positioned over the top of her head.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice much gentler than it had been mere seconds before. He spoke as if he had all the time in the world, as if a hostile agent wasn’t hovering two feet away, making sure they didn’t discuss the events. “Would you like to move to a seat with no window? Maybe back with the medic?”
“No,” she said. “I’m fine. It’s not the h-height.” It was the fact that her lungs didn’t seem to work, were struggling to push out air. And that panic was beginning to sweep over her in waves.
She couldn’t formulate any more words but Jack seemed to understand, taking over the conversation, pondering about the blue of the river in between telling her to hold her breath and asking her to guess the color of the pilot’s underwear. Slowly her breath came easier, simply from the absurdity of his questions, or his proximity, or maybe it was his total ease with the situation.
“Sure is nice grassland,” he was saying. “That’s great you can look down now, appreciate the view.” She felt his teasing smile against her hair. “Maybe we’ll finally see those wild mustangs.”
Her breath escaped in a choke then disintegrated into helpless sobs. He just held her, keeping her turned toward the window, shielding her from the other agents, his compassionate hand stroking her head.
“I’m okay now,” she whispered, after a minute of silent crying, or maybe several. She really didn’t know how long they sat. Jack seemed in no hurry to vacate the seat, even though the blond agent was hovering, his disapproval radiating in waves.
Jack reached around and stroked her wrists. “They’re taking you directly to the hospital. Two of your fingers are broken, and you’re going to lose some nails. And that cut on your forearm will need stitches. Do you want anything more for the pain?”
She shook her head, dismissing her injuries. Once she’d decided to climb that rock wall, she hadn’t felt a thing. Still didn’t. There were too many people, and animals, who had fared much worse. “Did they find Kessler’s body?” she asked.
“Yes,” Jack whispered.
“What about Logan?” she asked, following his lead, keeping her voice low so the agent wouldn’t hear.
“Already in surgery. Looks like he’s going to live, thanks to your first aid.”
“That’s good, I guess,” she said. But she didn’t feel much emotion. She’d held his wound, prevented him from yanking out the arrow while Jack searched for Logan’s radio. The man was no longer a threat and she hadn’t wanted him to die. But she would have shot another arrow if necessary, and she knew she shouldn’t admit that during her interrogation.
She probably would though. Last year, her lawyer had cautioned her to only answer the specific questions. But evasiveness didn’t come naturally. The inquiry had dissected every one of her thoughts and actions, forcing her to relive the experience in the most agonizing detail. She’d already accepted that she could, and would, do what was necessary to save a life. And that made others uncomfortable.
Actually it was rather surprising Jack still sat beside her. He’d tilted her back in the seat and was studying her hands, his ambivalence obvious by his expression.
“What kind of freak could climb a rock wall?” Had he heard those comments? Maybe even participated in them?
He shocked her by gently picking up her wrists and kissing them, first the right, then the left, then the right again. Respectfully. Reverently. Certainly not hiding his actions. “I can’t believe you were able to climb out of there,” he said. “You saved my life.”
The muscles in his throat moved and he lifted his head. “I don’t want you to worry about the interview,” he said. “It won’t be like your last time. And the girls are fine. Stiff but grateful. Monty took good care of them.”
“What about the mules?” She shot a wary peek over his shoulder. The other agents had shut her down, refusing to answer any questions, only saying an information officer would meet her at the hospital. But as usual, Jack seemed to be operating under a different set of parameters.
“The mules are fine,” he said. “They’ll be picked up and hauled back to the ranch. Monty insisted they not be asked to walk another step. Two agents will stay with them until the trailer arrives. Right now, they’re enjoying the long grass around the fire tower.”
She gave a wobbly smile. Belle, Gus and Bubba were safe. Once again Monty had returned with all his animals. Not her though. Her smile faded and she wondered if Monty even knew about the horses yet. Or Sharon.
Of course, her boss was fair, reasonable. Animals should always be sacrificed for people. But once the dust settled, Sharon would grieve. Banjo, Dusty and Oreo had been bred on her ranch. Banjo was Monty’s favorite. Each horse would be missed. Even Slider—who had proven remarkably loyal—had looked at Kate with something akin to hurt when she’d chased him away. As if he knew Logan’s men were lurking, waiting to pick him off.
“May I talk to my boss?” Kate asked, squeezing the words through her thickened throat. “Just for a minute. To explain...why we had to let them go?”
“No.” Jack shook his head, every bit as emphatic as the agents. “Not until you answer a few questions. Officials will meet you at the hospital.”
“Will I be able to see Courtney and Tyra?”
“No. Sorry. They’ve already been whisked away.”
“What about you?” she asked. “Will you be there?”
“No,” Jack said. “They’re escorting me directly to Washington.”
“I see.” Even though he was still holding her, she felt alone. “I should have told you about the tree blazes,” she said, her voice small. “Should have trusted you. This could have been so different.”
“Hey.” He turned her around, his expression shocked. “You did your job, way beyond. You and Monty were incredible. Are incredible. And this is on me. I saw those trees too.”
“Oh,” she said, feeling a bit better. Then she sobered. “Aren’t you worried about your job future? I’m surprised you’re even allowed to talk to me.”
His look of disbelief changed to something entirely different. He wasn’t smiling but there was definitely amusement in those golden-brown eyes. “Your boss said you were conscientious. That you’d worry. But you need to understand you’re a hero. You can expect to be treated as such. And I don’t care if I ever get another government contract... Although I’m quite sure I will. Everything’s fine, sweetheart,” he added. His head dipped and he gave her a swift but reassuring kiss.
She shifted away the moment he lifted his head, despite the urge to wrap her arms around his neck and never let go. “Aren’t you afraid they’ll see us?” she whispered.
“Are you kidding?” He really did grin then. “I want them to see us. They’re all calling you the warrior princess. And every one of them, including the female pilot, wants to ask you out.”
She scanned his face, wondering if he was joking. But his smile had already turned to a scowl. “I don’t advise accepting,” he said. “These agents are all based in Washington. And I don’t think you’d like the city. I, on the other hand, live in Idaho.”
Her heart gave a hopeful kick. Maybe he would want to see her after the dust settled. At least that’s the way it sounded. The helicopter rotors might be garbling his words.
But he was looking at her the same way he had last night—before she’d shot an arrow in Logan’s neck. When there’d been nothing but desire in his eyes. Only now there was something else. Longing and an endearing mix of uncertainty, so at odds with his usual confidence.
“What about the pilot?” she asked, pretending to purse her lips in thought. “She looks nice. And we already established she wears red underwear. Where does she live?”
The sides of his eyes crinkled in a smile. “Montana. But she doesn’t like horses. For a woman like you, I guess that rules her out.”
A woman like you. She’d heard those words before. But Jack spoke them differently. Like she was something good, even special. He didn’t seem to mind that the other agents were watching, that their relationship would be reported. Or that she might be bad luck.
“I probably won’t have a job soon,” she said carefully. “So I’ll have more time. And I’d like to visit your ranch, see Suds open that beer. But don’t feel you have to ask me out, you know...because of what happened.”
“You mean because you saved my life?” His gorgeous smile flashed again.
Clearly he knew exactly what she meant and though she smiled back, her face felt frozen. She’d helped people before, and obviously he’d rescued many more. That left feelings, ties and obligations, especially when it involved the opposite sex. She didn’t want him that way.
She nodded again, determined to show her understanding of the situation. She even forced a careless shrug. “You know what I mean,” she said “Don’t feel we have to get together because of what happened.”
“Because I want to be with you?” he said. “Because I’m falling in love with you?”
She was still nodding even as his words filtered to her brain, and then to her heart, until it was beating double time. “Oh,” she managed.
“Not quite the response I was hoping for,” he said dryly. “But I intend to work on that. How about I come by the ranch, soon as I leave Washington?”
If I’m even there. But she didn’t want to get into that, not with the blond agent hovering. Besides, this time it didn’t hurt so much about her employment situation, or any of the other repercussions. Just knowing she’d see Jack when it was over left her flushed with optimism. Maybe he’d return quicker than expected. Although by the look of things, the feds didn’t plan on giving him much freedom any time soon.
The blond agent leaned over Jack’s seat, as if trying to hear their conversation. This time though, he tapped Jack on the shoulder and gestured at the window.
Jack inclined his head and turned back to Kate. “I couldn’t convince them to stop,” he said. “And I’m not authorized to answer your questions. But they all agreed you deserve a little detour. This is better anyway. It will end the day on a more positive note.”
He was grinning and even the blond agent looked oddly satisfied. “Take a look down,” Jack prompted.
She turned toward the window. The foothills had leveled into a mix of rolling fields and pasture, dotted with clumps of trees and grazing livestock. Then familiar outbuildings and a long rectangular arena sprouted into view. If she peered to the right, she’d see the dining hall where the cook was no doubt preparing a special cake to celebrate Monty’s return. And there was the dance hall where she’d first met Jack. When she’d discovered dancing wasn’t such a chore, as long as it was with the right man.
The helicopter slanted then straightened, hovering near the barn. The holding pen was empty except for six horses. Five of the animals placidly munched hay. But the sixth horse, a palomino, lifted his head, eyeing the helicopter with open suspicion. A blaze ran down his face, accentuating his white mane, showcased against his beautiful golden coat.
“Oh, my,” Kate breathed. “Slider! He made it home?” Her incredulous gaze shot back to the other horses. “They all did?”
“Every one of them,” Jack said, a grin splitting his face. “Logan was lying through his teeth. The four-wheelers never caught them. Never even saw them. The horses have some superficial cuts and tore some shoes off but they’re fine. It was Slider who raised the alarm.”
“What do you mean?”
“He didn’t stop by the pasture with Banjo and the others but jumped the fence. They found him waiting outside the barn early this morning. That’s when all hell broke loose. And the reason the helicopters arrived so quickly. They’re safe,” Jack said, squeezing her hand. “And I just wanted you to see them.”
Her lower lip quivered, her heart doing a delighted tap dance in her chest.
“We can’t talk about details yet,” the blond agent warned, his voice still authoritative but not quite so harsh.
Jack raised his index finger. “One more thing,” he said, turning back to Kate. “Courtney and Tyra insisted on sending a message. Your friends at the ranch volunteered to deliver it.”
He tilted her head back toward the window.
They were flying low over the south field now, where wranglers clustered around a tractor and hay wagon. But not just wranglers. There were loads of other workers too: the cook in her big apron, Allie wearing her striped swimsuit cover-up, and sweet Charlie from the fire pit. Even Sharon Barrett was there, distinctive in her white cowboy hat. She stood a little apart, not waving quite as madly as the others, but instead holding her arm up, as if in salute.
Jack pressed closer and even the blond agent leaned over Kate’s seat, until all three of them were craning to see out the window. The agent’s holster trapped Kate’s bandaged hand against the steel frame of the seat, but the pain was miniscule, soothed by her flood of happiness.
She stared down at the upturned faces, her eyes misting as she absorbed their excited waves and the huge message they’d painstakingly printed in the field, using forty-pound bales of hay.
Only one word but it conveyed plenty. THANKS! it said.
