CHAPTER THREE

The scene was familiar to Niki. Deuce stood impatiently between his green-broke three-year-old sorrel gelding named Traveler, an old sway-backed pack horse and Storm, the palomino gelding Bob had kept for her for the past eight years. Normally, Storm would have been sold as a yearling, but she had fallen in love with the feisty colt and Bob had kept him.

As a colt, he had been high-spirited and had a wild look about him, so Niki had named him Storm. She had also chosen the name in an attempt to conquer her fear of thunder and lightening by trivializing the violent weather events—it didn’t work. Storm was no longer a colt, but there was still something a bit untamed—or as Deuce would say, crazy and cocky—about the horse which made Niki love the animal even more. Storm had never bucked, not even when Deuce broke him, but the gelding never seemed totally domesticated either. Niki was sure he was a dependable wonderful horse simply because he chose to be and not because he had any fear of man.

Niki knew the horse was used year round at the ranch, but whenever she was in town everyone acted as if Storm had been waiting all year for her to return. And, despite Deuce’s constant grumbling about the horse, her grandfather had confessed that Deuce was the most frequent rider of Niki’s beloved pet.

“How’s my favorite handsome tough guy?” she asked as she nuzzled the palomino’s head.

Storm rubbed his large head up and down on the arm of her lightweight jacket and closed his eyes. Niki ran her hand down the length of his soft nose and continued to praise the horse. He lowered his head until he found her coat pocket and sniffed, searching for the treat she always carried.

“That horse may be crazy and cantankerous, not to mention his nasty sense of humor, but there’s nothing wrong with his memory,” Deuce grumbled as he watched horse and woman get reacquainted.

“He’s not mad or mean, he just doesn’t like men, not that I blame him,” she replied, trying to suppress the laughter.

Niki had no doubt Deuce’s comment about Storm’s sense of humor was based on the fact that few men could get a halter on the horse without bribing him with grain. She had watched Storm let Deuce get almost within reach then trot off. The horse would stop fifteen yards away and continue the process until Deuce was cursing and throwing things at the horse, who managed to always stay just out of any projectile’s reach. She was certain Storm derived a great deal of enjoyment at Deuce’s expense.

“Still can’t catch him without a bribe, huh?” Niki asked as she pulled a carrot out of her pocket.

Deuce pretended not to hear the comment as he turned his back and walked over to where Traveler was tied to the hitch rail. He grabbed the reins and saddle horn, placed the toe of his well-worn boot into the stirrup and gracefully swung his long powerful leg over the horse’s back. She was always amazed how such a large man could be so smooth in his motions, especially where horses were involved.

He’s so gentle and patient with the animals he loves—too bad the skill hasn’t carried over to humans, she mused as her focus returned to Storm.

“Hope I brought enough carrots for a month,” she said as she checked her cinch, secured the gun scabbard to her saddle, slid the rifle into the scabbard and shoved the box of shells into her saddlebag.

“A month? I thought you were only staying two weeks like you usually do.”

“Business is slow at work with all the uncertainty the CCIS is causing, so my boss told me to take some extra time off. I bet you thought I brought an awful lot of groceries for two weeks.”

“Yep, I should have grabbed a younger pack horse,” Deuce mumbled as he nudged his gelding with the heels of his boots and headed out.

Niki managed to swing her leg over the saddle while Storm fidgeted, trying to ease after Traveler and the pack horse, not wanting to be left behind.

The least that arrogant jerk could do is wait until I’m in the saddle before riding off. He knows Storm hates to be at the back on the line.

They rode in silence for the first hour. As she watched Deuce’s broad shoulders sway to the rhythm of the horse’s gait she couldn’t help but think about what Bob had told her earlier that morning. If he was right, maybe she had been a little hard on Deuce these past years. Maybe he had shut her out of his life for fear of being abandoned by another city girl. But she wasn’t a city girl, not at heart. She belonged here and when she obtained enough experience to open her own graphics design business, she would leave Denver for good and move to a smaller town with mountains, preferably in Wyoming or South Dakota.

After another hour of peaceful riding the serenity was broken by the sound of a Humvee’s motor. It drove across a ridge on the opposite side of a deep and very steep ravine from where she and Deuce were riding, but the sound carried as if it were much closer. The vehicle stopped at the base of the cell phone tower or whatever it was and the engine silenced. It appeared to Niki as if at least five heavily-armed men in camouflaged clothing were busy doing something around the structure.

Deuce glanced back at Niki and motioned for her to catch up with him on the opposite side of his horse. Niki nudged Storm into a trot. She suffered the awkward gait until she was riding alongside and then slowed the horse to a walk.

“I’m going to have you and Bernie herd the sheep a ways further into the mountains than the current camp. Right now your grandfather is only about five miles from here. Even though I don’t think they could get a Humvee across the ravine, I’d feel better if there was some more distance between you and those soldiers. Those guys weren’t overly friendly when they came by the ranch and I’m sure you’d look pretty good to them after being stationed out here for a month.”

“Are you saying I only look good to a man who hasn’t seen a woman in a very long time? So Deuce, when’s the last time you saw a woman?” Niki asked as she batted her eyelashes at him.

“You know what I mean. You always look good and we don’t need any trouble.”

If she only knew how good she looked to him, he would never be able to face her again. Deuce loved the little streaks of red in her light brown hair that always shimmered in the sun whenever he spent time with her outdoors. The way her slight, but very feminine frame swayed when she walked in her cowboy boots. Her little perky nose, the tiny creases at the corners of her mouth that made her look amused even when she was mad, and those big deep blue eyes with long lashes that fluttered so innocently even when she was guilty as sin or conning him, like now. And, ever since he was eighteen and she was sixteen, he wanted to be much more to her than a friend or big brother. He had been weak when he made her those damn saddlebags and now every time she came to the ranch he was reminded that he almost lost his head over a woman too fragile to be part of his life and too important to risk losing.

“Don’t worry about me. Bob sent a little extra insurance for the trip,” she replied as she patted the gun scabbard.

Deuce knew he shouldn’t worry, but he couldn’t help it. With his mother gone, Niki was the most important woman in his life and she had been ever since he could remember, even if she didn’t know it. He had dated some, but didn’t have time for a relationship now that he was taking over more of the ranch responsibilities from his dad, and for some reason no one else seemed to measure up to the girl, and then the woman, who had dropped in and out of his life for so long. He wished, especially this year, that Niki would have stayed put in her nice, safe, little apartment.

“Remember that rifle has a pretty good kick for someone your size.”

“I’ve shot this gun before. Bob taught me how to use it before he took me deer hunting. He said I was a natural.”

“If I recall you didn’t shoot anything.”

“No, I had a chance, but I couldn’t pull the trigger. That buck just kept grazing without a care in the world. He didn’t even know I had a bead on him.”

Even though she hadn’t shot the deer, it was still one of her fondest memories. Bob was always busy, especially in the fall when hay had to be put up and the cows and sheep had to be brought in off the mountain for the winter. Niki knew it wasn’t his responsibility to be her surrogate father, so when he had made the time to take her out during the busy fall, she felt special.

“Well I certainly hope if you get in a position where you need to use the rifle you can actually pull the trigger this time.”

“If enough were at stake I could.”

Deuce glanced back over his shoulder in the direction of the soldiers and hoped she was right. He hated leaving her and Bernie out here alone, but he couldn’t stay with them. With his dad heading to Washington D.C. in the morning he had to get back to the ranch and take care of business.

A gentle touch on his arm brought his focus back around.

“Really, I’m not that fragile and I’m certainly not helpless. You have to be tough to survive in the city too, and I’ve done just fine. Besides, I’ll have Papa with me and he’d never let anything bad happen.”

Deuce wished he had as much confidence in Bernie as Niki did. At one time the sheepherder had been tougher than anyone Deuce knew besides his own father, but he was getting old. They had celebrated Bernie’s seventy-second birthday last winter as he had his knee replaced in a Billing’s hospital. Bernie insisted the surgery had been a success, but Deuce noticed he still limped significantly whenever he thought no one was watching. But mentally the old man was as sharp as ever and determined not to give up the solitude of tending a summer band of sheep in his beloved Big Horn Mountains. Deuce and Bob had tried to persuade him he was needed at the ranch this season, but Bernie had pleaded for just one more summer with his only grandchild.

“He’s getting too old for this. You need to convince him before next season that he’s needed at the ranch. There’s plenty he can do there where it’s safer.”

“I can’t do that. It would kill him to admit he’s too old to do the only thing he’s ever done. To him sheepherding isn’t just a job¾it’s a way of life, a family tradition, a link to his Basque heritage. He’s a third-generation sheepherder. His grandfather came to this country from Spain with nothing. They never found wealth, but they found a passion for the animals and the mountains. I feel guilty enough that the tradition will die with me, but I won’t shoulder the guilt of breaking his spirit as well.”

“Damn it, Niki. Can’t you see that neither one of you should be out here alone?”

“Go to hell, Deuce. My family may have never been able to afford land of our own and have always been dependent on people like you, but we love these mountains and we’re just as capable as anyone else of being here. Thank goodness the rest of the Blackburns have been kind enough to make us feel like we belong. I’m not sure what happened to you.”

“I just don’t want anything to happen to either one of you. Bernie’s like family.”

But apparently I’m not. Niki tapped Storm’s sides with her heels and galloped ahead, determined to enjoy the scenery and not fight with the infuriating man who had made it impossible for her to find anyone else to share her life.

Compared to Deuce, the men she knew were just boys and held no appeal. The only man who had ever made her yearn for a family of her own had always been just out of reach. But she would survive on her own—she always had and her grandfather often reminded her that her independence made her resilient and successful.

If an old man can see it, why can’t a stubborn cowboy? Niki reached down and rubbed Storm’s neck. The horse tossed his head and a smile eased across her lips. Deuce might push her to rage nearly every time they came within shouting distance of each other, but in a few hours he would head back to the ranch and she could relax with her grandfather and enjoy the horse and the land which always made her feel powerful and a little more in control of her destiny, if only for a short time.