Cougar's Mate (9 page)

Despite worrying what Chase and the sheriff might do to her if they learned why she was on the run, she felt safer being here, sharing the same space with Chase. If she’d stay in a different cabin, she would have been jumping at every sound or shadow, just as she had when she was running. She didn’t want him to know that was the reason for her staying here, and she didn’t want him to think that she wanted to stay with him because she was interested in him. In the end, he could be hurt by all this and she didn’t want that to happen.

But for now, she desperately needed a few days and nights of rest. She would eat some good, nutritious meals during that time and she’d map out a plan. This would work well for her. She couldn’t stay long. She was afraid Dan or Chase would learn who she was, or Hennessey would locate her. But she had no idea where she was location-wise in relation to anywhere else. When she had the opportunity, she was learning just where she was and where she could run to next that might afford her relative safety.

She’d felt like she’d lost her humanity for a while, fending for herself, being a loner, surviving—but that wasn’t her. Despite the crowd she’d run with when her brother was still alive, she’d always been true to her own nature, honest, law-abiding—but way too trusting. And she’d always had friends, even if they’d been on the wrong side of the law. With Ted, she hadn’t been able to have friends, and she realized just how controlling he’d been.

She considered the furnishings in the bedroom: a green leafy bedspread over a double bed, a dark oak nightstand, a soft green chair, bachelor chest, and a tall armoire. They would do.

While Chase was on the phone, she heard the front door open and close. She shut the curtains and moved the heavy armoire, twisting it from side to side until she could push it in front of the window. She didn’t want him to know she had moved the furniture because she was afraid, so she was glad he’d gone outside to talk to the sheriff. Though she did have some reservations about him wanting to talk with him in private. Were they planning something? Was Chase lulling her into a false sense of security while they tried to track down who she was? Most likely.

Taking a deep, settling breath, she considered the armoire blocking the window, only a tiny bit of light on either side. She was satisfied that no one could get to her through the window without making an awful racket.

That task done, she wanted to take a bath. She’d swum enough in lakes and streams while trying to catch dinners, and rescuing the boy, that she had bathed often enough in her cougar coat. But the notion of soaking for a long time in a warm, soothing bath lured her in. Thankfully, because of their faster healing genetics, her scratches and bruises from her flight through the wilderness had healed up. She wanted to wash her hair and feel squeaky clean and luxuriate in a bit of self-indulgence. She grabbed the sweats and headed for the bathroom. Chase was still outside talking on the phone.

A handful of photographs hanging on the hallway walls caught her eye—of Lake Buchanan surrounded by the forest wearing its spring green finery, some of the later blooming trees still bare, in autumn with the trees sporting yellows, reds, and oranges mixed in with the evergreen needled pines, the darker green of summer, and the bare branches of winter with a lot of snowfall on the ground. She couldn’t help but love the scenes—the same place, but during different seasons of the year.

She entered the bathroom, closed the door, and considered the green marbled walls and walk-in shower, a sauna tub next to it. She smiled. Nice.
Really
nice. After all she’d been through, she was ready to experience a bit of heaven.

Before long, she was soaking in the tub, one of the complimentary bottles of rose mint sitting on the little shelf within reach, the jet bubbles pummeling her back. She knew she had to leave within a few days, but what she wouldn’t have given to stay in this tub for a month.

***

Chase considered the woodpile and figured he had enough for a while as he talked on the phone to Dan.

“Listen, that Carl Nelson’s been snooping around. You know the reporter from Denver? While you were being checked out at the clinic, he reported about the cougar and the boy. We had a flurry of reporters down here asking about the cougar after that—had we killed it, had we ever had problems with cougars like that before,” Dan said.

“Hell.”

“Yeah, I agree. I put out the word that we took care of the cat.”

“Took care of…?”

“Killed it. I didn’t want a swarm of hunters down here looking to kill cougars. If they figured it was dead, that would be the end of it. But even so, right after he reported it, several more reporters flocked to the area like a bunch of vultures looking for more of a story. They heard about your injury and rumors got out that you were tracking the cougar. We’ve assured everyone that your injury had nothing to do with the
male
cougar that had pulled the boy out of the water. I swear they’re like a swarm of blood thirsty mosquitoes.

“Everyone is being careful about what they say around town, but I needed to give you a heads up. If she’s on the run from cougar shifters, hopefully, the reference to the cougar being a male will threw them off. If the story had only run locally, no problem. But a reference to a wild cougar saving a boy to eat him later—well, it hit the national news.”

“Great.”

“If she’s running from humans, no problem. Several of our men scoured the area also, searching for a tent she might have set up somewhere. They followed her recent trail, but they could only find where she traveled for miles. It appears she’s been on the run for some time.”

“Any clue as to which direction she came from if she wasn’t backtracking or meandering a bit to find food?”

“South. Unfortunately, that reporter, Carl Nelson, was in the area when we had the cougar hunt going on in town. Thankfully, there was a lot of confusion since he heard that I was chasing your stolen vehicle and he thought there was a story in that. Then he saw men on a cougar hunt. Everyone he chanced to speak with said the man was crazy. He’s calling it a town-wide, conspiracy cover-up. That’s all I have now, but don’t be surprised if you get a pesky reporter up your way before long.”

That’s all Chase needed. “Thanks. Good to know.”

“Talk to you later.”

They ended the call and Chase grabbed a load of wood, walked into the house, and dumped it into the timber box. Then he locked the door. He worried when he saw that Shannon hadn’t left the bedroom yet. Was she sleeping? After her ordeal, she would probably need several days to rest up.

Or… hell, had she already skipped out on him? His stomach began to churn with anxiety.

Trying not to panic, he stalked down the hall toward her guestroom, but then heard the jets bubbling in the tub. He smelled the fresh water and the scent of rose mint and suddenly envisioned Shannon naked as soap and water ran down her tan skin.

But what if she wasn’t there? What if she had left the jets running in the filled up tub, pretending to be bathing, but she wasn’t even in there?

His heart thumped hard as he listened closely at the door, ready to knock to see if she’d answer when he heard the jets turn off, the water draining, and a towel sliding off the rack. He breathed a sigh of relief. Again, the unbidden image crossed his mind of her naked, dripping water, droplets clinging from her nipples when… hell, he had to think of her as nothing more than a very needy guest. What she didn’t need was him getting hard with envisioning her wet and naked.

Bathroom cabinet drawers opened and closed.

Not wanting to startle her, but to let her know she was welcome to anything he had, he tapped lightly on the door. “The extra supplies I mentioned are in the bottom drawer.”

“I found them, thanks. Hairdryer?” she asked.

“Uh, sorry, no hairdryer.”

“No problem.”

“Did… you want to watch a movie while we eat?”

“I’d love to.”

And just like that, he had the oddest feeling. Like he was on a first date. Which had him shaking his head at himself. First things first. Learn what trouble she was in. And then after that, figure out where to go from there. He was usually good at sticking to a plan. But with Shannon, plans seemed to dissolve into man hunts—or in her case—she-cat hunts.

“Is there a particular kind of movie you’re interested in?” he asked.

“Nothing with a lot of blood,” she said, and he swore she sounded upset when she mentioned it.

He was right back to believing someone had been murdered. But if she didn’t do it, had she witnessed a murder? And the killer was after her?

Hell, he could second guess this all day long. He had to learn the truth.

Then he pondered the movie scenario. He didn’t think he had a movie that didn’t feature someone who wasn’t trying to kill someone. He didn’t watch comedies or romance stories. Or animated features. He felt bad that he didn’t have anything she might like to watch. He even briefly thought of calling up Dan and asking him if he had anything else they could see, but he dismissed that notion. Dan liked the same kind of movies that Chase did—thrillers, historical adventures, futuristic drama, survival stories. He wasn’t about to leave Shannon alone to go into town to pick one up anyway.

“Not sure I have anything without a bit of violence in it,” he said, hating to admit it.

“That’s okay. I’ll look and see what you’ve got. Thanks, I'll be out in a moment. Oh, wait, do you have a hairbrush?"

"No hairbrushes, comb in top drawer."

"Okay. Thanks."

For another fifteen minutes, he paced across the wood floor in the living room, waiting for her to leave the bathroom. He couldn't help himself. He wanted to know who she really was and why she'd been running as a cougar in the wilderness. Except for Yuma Town, there wasn't anything nearby for miles. If he had to, he’d agree to Dan’s plan to take her over to Rick’s place for dinner sometime this week. But he hoped they wouldn’t have to dig that deep.

He heard the door to the bathroom close and then Shannon’s light footfalls as she walked down the hall. She was wearing the gray sweats. Her wet hair looked nearly black and curled in wet straggles down the sweatshirt, leaving big wet spots.

"We can pick up a hairdryer for you tomorrow."

"That's okay. I often go to bed with wet hair. Hairdryers are harsh on the hair. Is Dan okay?”

“Yeah. He’s at home now.”

“Good.” She took a sniff of the air and smiled. “Your stew smells delightful. Is there anything you want me to do?”

“All served up.” He motioned to the table. “Let’s eat at the table and we can watch a movie later if anything appeals.” They needed to talk and watching a movie wouldn’t be conducive to that.

“All right.”

He ladled out the stew, then took a seat across from her and they ate in silence.

"This is really good," she finally said after having finished half of the bowl.

"Thanks. If you need the recipe, I can give it to you."

She smiled a little.

Dumb remark on his part. She was on the run. Why would she need his family’s recipe? In the worst way, he wanted to ask her about the trouble she was in so they knew best how to handle this. He was afraid to push her too soon to tell him the whole story. Pressuring her, he imagined would encourage her to light out of here.

But the words spilled out of his mouth anyway. "Did you want to tell me what's going on?"

She didn't look at him and she appeared as though she was going to stop eating. He wanted her to feel comfortable here and free to talk to him when she was more settled, but most of all, to eat. So despite wanting to learn what this was all about right away, he’d let it rest for the night.

"Hey, you want some hot chocolate? Heavy on the whipped cream?" he asked, quickly changing the subject.

That earned him a small smile, and he hopped up to get it. "So what do you think of the place? They’ve been in the family for generations and are really rustic, even though they’ve been renovated a number of times over the years. They all have running water, bathrooms, kitchens, et cetera. Not that they have 5-star ratings. But they’re comfortable and perfect for outdoor enthusiasts who want more of a roof over their heads at night." He waited for the chocolate to heat up, then poured it into one of the biggest mugs he owned and set it down before her.

"The cabins are lovely. Makes a body feel right at home.”

Her gaze met his and he wondered if she really meant it—that she felt comfortable here, not skittish and wanting to run again anytime soon.

“Thanks for everything."

“You’re welcome.” He noticed she'd eaten nearly all of her stew. "Do you want some more?"

"I'd love to, but I’m full now."

"Your stomach probably shrank. Are you ready to try a movie now? Maybe I can get something else from town tomorrow.”

“Maybe we can skip the movie and call it a night. I’m really tired.”

She looked tired, dark circles under her eyes, thin, haggard.

“After all you’ve been through,” he said, “I understand.” He’d noted that while she’d been eating, she had been withdrawn—maybe just because she was starving, but she wasn’t scarfing the food down, either. He was afraid she was still thinking of running. Or maybe she was worried about whoever was after her. Then again, she might just be exhausted from her ordeal. Maybe she was just shy. Hell, he could try to figure it out all night and never come up with the truth.

“Why don’t you go onto bed then, and I’ll clean up in here. I might watch something, but I’ll keep the TV volume down low.” Partly so that he didn’t disturb her sleep. But also so he could hear if she was trying to slip out on him.

“Okay. Thanks again,” she said, and he didn’t expect her next action, but she rose from her chair, approached him, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

He knew with every ounce of brain matter he possessed that he should just give as much as he got, a quick unassuming kiss to say thank you back and that was all. But hell, he already wanted more.

He drew her into his arms and kissed her like he’d wanted to so many times before—when he’d been her roommate in the clinic and she’d groaned at seeing him, when he’d pinned her down in Hal’s kitchen and she’d been a wild cat trying to unseat him, when she gave him grief in the dressing room and he’d seen her wearing that lacy bra and the strawberry bikini panties, and now this—despite his mind screaming at him that this was so not a good idea. A very, very bad idea in fact. He halfway expected her to jerk away from him, but when she didn’t, when she pressed tighter against him and kissed him back, her lips warm and soft against his mouth, her tongue licking his lips and him groaning in response, he felt the whole world shift beneath his feet.