Ladd Springs (Ladd Springs, Book #1) (12 page)

Stunned,
the man hesitated. Nick jumped forward. Sadie reared with a frightened squeal.

Delaney
closed her eyes, pushed into her horse and braced against the blast. But none
came. When her lids popped open, Sadie was prancing restlessly at her shoulder.
The man was running away. Fast.

Nick
jogged several yards up the trail behind him. With one eye on Nick, Delaney
hushed her mare, stroked her neck. “Whoa, Sadie. It’s okay.”

Nick
paused, gun raised, staring after the man. When he seemed satisfied the
stranger was in full retreat, he returned to Delaney. “Can I assume that was your
trespasser?”

She
nodded, tugging back Sadie, anxious to gallop off in the direction of home.

“You
need to call the police.” Nick stuck the black pistol back into his rear
waistband. “When a man levels a gun at you, he means business.”

Heart
pulsing erratically against her ribs, Delaney tried to make light of the
incident. “Seems to me he’s the one running scared.”

“Not
for long.”

“Well,
I think you did the trick,” she said, avoiding Nick’s questioning stare. “I
don’t think calling the police is necessary.”

He
screwed his expression. “Do you
like
to take chances?”

“What?”
With shaky arms, she slid the bridle over Sadie’s head and down onto her back. “No,
I’m not taking chances, I just—”

“Did
you expect him to show up here with a gun?”

She
gulped.

Nick
took a step closer and demanded, “What happened in there that you’re not
telling me?”

“Nothing.
I told you—I stumbled across them when I was hiking and warned them to get off
my property. Guess they didn’t listen.”

“Them?”

Had
she said there was only one? Delaney raced through her story, grasping for
details. “I think there was another one,” she muttered and tried to leap onto
her horse.

But
Nick stopped her, pulling her to the ground so hard, her boots hit the dirt with
a decisive thud. He spun her around to face him, and her pulse scattered. Sadie’s
ears pricked forward. Delaney blinked against the bright sun.

“Not
so fast,” he said. “I just risked my life for you and I want to know why.”

“I
didn’t ask you to risk your life for me,” she exclaimed, guilt pouring into her
as she acknowledged she might well be dead if he hadn’t. Against the glare, she
couldn’t quite make out the nuance in his expression—and wished there was no
need.

“Well...aren’t
you a sweet one?” Nick took the reins from her and began to lead Sadie back
toward the house.

“Hey—”
Delaney snapped to attention. “Where are you going with my horse?”

“Back
to the house,” he replied. “Are you coming?”

Whose
house? And why was Sadie following him so easily?

Nearly
head and shoulders with her mare, he seemed fully in control of the situation,
as though he’d handled more than a few horses in his time. Nick walked without
hurry and Sadie jauntily kept pace beside him, her white tail swishing back and
forth. Only his crisp white-button down gave him away for a city-boy, showing a
wrinkled shirt tail he hadn’t bothered to tuck back into his jeans. Her gaze
dropped to his long-legged jeans and expensive leather boots that looked right
at home amidst the green hills rising around him. A strange longing pulled at
her. Nick Harris was a good-looking man, she’d give him that. And today she’d
have to add courageous to the column of desirable qualities. He hadn’t flinched
when that man raised his gun. In fact, he’d been so smooth in securing his own,
the man hadn’t even see it coming. Then he drew first and Nick ended it. There
was no prolonged macho standoff, no haphazard show of force. Nick simply stated
his position and then followed through. Now he was following through with
another position—
she wasn’t making the trip back to the house alone
.

Delaney
brushed away strands of hair sticking to her face. She shook her head, gathered
her wits and cut her losses. Fighting with the man who had just saved her life
was bad form, no matter how you looked at it. She owed him a debt of gratitude,
her personal feelings notwithstanding.

But
ditched by Sadie? Staring into the buttery cream butt of her horse, Delaney fumed.
Traitor
. She took off after the two, grumbling to herself, “I’m coming,
I’m coming.”

Once
they crossed the bridge and neared the Ernie’s cabin, Nick looked around, his
mind seeking the most likely direction for the stables.

Delaney
reached for the reins. “I’ll take those now, thank you.”

Ignoring
her play, he glanced toward the small clearing just past Ernie’s place, the
gentle slope leading up into the mountain where he’d spotted Delaney earlier,
and a miscellany of openings into the trees surrounding them. But since he had
not been offered a tour, he didn’t have the first clue. “Where are the
stables?”

“Back
down that way,” she pointed.

Nick
saw a trail leading into an arched tunnel of trees and branches. He headed for
the opening.

“I
can walk Sadie myself, you know.”

Nick
paused. “I believe you.” Irritation flared in her dark eyes, setting them ablaze.
He liked spirit in a woman. Liked independence and strength, too. “But I’m not
letting you anywhere near those woods, unescorted.” Besides, he wanted to
reserve the opportunity to enjoy more than simply her temper.

“You’re
being ridiculous.”

“And
you’re being careless.”

“Excuse
me?”

“Humor
me, will you?”

“I
don’t need to humor you,” Delaney huffed. “This is my land and my horse.” But as
she tried to yank the reins from his grasp, he lifted them above her head and
out of reach. “Sorry.” He shrugged, suppressing the pleasure he found in riling
her temper. “No can do.”

Delaney’s
black brow furrowed. “Are you always this controlling?”

“Usually
no need,” he replied. “Most people I deal with have more sense. But you, you’re
like an angry honey badger running around the desert.”

“
A
what
?”

Nick
grinned. “A honey badger. Craziest animal I ever saw. Chases venomous snakes
across the desert floor like nobody’s business.” He laughed and added, “Though
when she’s bitten by her prey, she can become downright docile.” Nick gently
tugged at Sadie’s bit and walked off ahead of her. He imagined Delaney to be contemplating
an attack of her own at the moment, but it couldn’t be helped. She was a
stubborn one and required a patient hand, but she could benefit from a strong
hand, too. Whether she was willing to admit it or not, Delaney had been spooked
by those men and more so than her horse. When he first saw her, Nick recognized
the blank look for what it was. Fright. Something happened out there and it
scared her, but for some reason she wasn’t revealing details. That man clearly
believed she had something he wanted. Did she know what it was?

Delaney
caught up with him and, with a decidedly calmer tone, asked, “May I walk my own
horse, please?”

Nick
looked askance. “Oh, I don’t know.” He stroked the mare’s muscular neck. “Sadie
seems pretty happy in my hands.”

“She’s
my
horse,” Delaney snarled and yanked at the reins in his hands.

Nick
allowed her the small victory. Demoralizing Delaney wasn’t the goal. Keeping
her safe was.

He
followed as Delaney led the way through the woods. Leaves sat suspended from
branches overhead, hovering in the air above them as they walked, dense enough
to block most of the sunlight. It made this section of the forest quiet,
peaceful. Soft pillows of leaves blanketed the forest floor to either side of
the trail, punctuated by black logs rotted by years of decay. The faint sound of
creek water could be heard down below. To him, it felt like they were strolling
through a cavern, the air rich with the musky scent of nature. It would make
for a memorable hike for his hotel guests.

With
two long strides, Nick caught up with Delaney, Sadie’s hooves rhythmic and
steady as she walked at Delaney’s side, her head bobbing in cadence, with the
occasional shake to her mane. It made him miss his horses back in Montana.

“Thank
you for saving me back there,” Delaney murmured. “I didn’t expect him to be waiting
at my horse.”

“No?”
The surprise apology heightened Nick’s awareness of Delaney’s femininity. Add
the close proximity, the privacy of their situation and his impulse was to
touch her, to brush the hair from her neck and wrap his arm around her slim shoulders.
But he didn’t. Not yet. “You seemed pretty concerned about her. Which makes no
sense unless you knew that man might turn up.”

“I
was—and I did,” Delaney underscored. “Sadie has been with me since she was a
foal. If anything happened to her, I’d die—right after I killed the bastard who
hurt her.”

Surprised
by the degree of vengeance in her voice, Nick merely agreed. “You’ve raised a
beauty,” he admired, and patted her rear.

“She
is.”

Nick
wanted to probe. He wanted to know why Delaney had been hiking in the woods
with a backpack, why she carried a camera, why she exited the woods on the far
side instead of where she hitched her horse. But he didn’t ask—there’d be time
enough for that later. “Where’s Felicity?” he asked, casually changing the
subject.

“At
a friend’s house. Thankfully,” Delaney added.

“Good.
You expect her home soon?”

She
doused him with an eyeful of suspicion. “Why?”

Nick
indulged her with a reticent smile. “I’m concerned for her safety. She should
know there’s the potential for danger in the forest.”

“She
does,” Delaney snapped, then instantly retreated. She heaved a sigh and slowed,
tilting her face up to him. Brown eyes softened with motherly concern. “I told
her not to go out alone until further notice.”

“This
isn’t the first run-in with these gentlemen, I take it?”

“Second.”

Nick
approved the contrite tone to her answer. Maybe he could get through to her
after all. “Wise of you to counsel her against it.”

She
flipped him a nod in thanks.

Nick
trailed her to the stables and watched as Delaney executed her duties without
remark. She handled the horses with gentle authority, cleared the center
corridor of horse crap without fuss, the pungent scent permeating his nostrils as
she rolled it by in her wheelbarrow. Delaney didn’t dawdle, but performed every
task with the efficiency of routine. “Finished,” she announced. Swiping the
back of her hand across her forehead, she slung the backpack over her shoulder
and looked to him. “Should I assume you’re escorting me back to the house?”

Pleased
with her acquiescence, Nick replied, “You should.”

“Yay,”
she mumbled.

As
she walked past him on her way out, he detected the sweat and dirt clinging to
her person. Drawn to her rear end, he mused with satisfaction.
It only gets
better from here, my dear
.

Chapter Twelve

Nick
made repeated attempts at conversation on the way back to Ernie’s cabin, but
Delaney was having none of it. There was no way she was going to reveal her
discovery to him. She would handle those men through Clem—once she decided on a
strategy for attack. Having Nick Harris poke around her business would be
nothing but a nuisance.

“Okay,
so thanks again,” Delaney said, walking backwards away from him. She offered a
meager wave. “Appreciate everything you did, but I’ve got to get home.”

“Your
place up there?” he asked, gesturing toward her cabin on the ridge above.

Startled,
Delaney almost didn’t reply. “Uh, yes. It is.”

“Good
to know.” His posture relaxed as he tucked his hands into the front pockets of
his jeans, shirttails still hanging loose around his waist. “I’m going to hang
out tonight, keep an eye on things.”

She
nearly stumbled and stopped suddenly. “What?”

Nick
casually perused their surroundings and nodded. “I don’t want him coming back
and finishing what he started.”

Urgency
kicked at her. “That won’t be necessary, I assure you—”

He
silenced her protest with a hand. “I believe it is.”

“Mr.
Harris,
really
, there’s no need.”

His
expression sobered. All trace of humor vanished. “You had a run in with some
pretty unsavory characters, Ms. Wilkins. When a man points a gun at me, I
believe he means business. I’m willing to bet that man won’t stop until you
give him whatever it is he wants.”

Delaney’s
temper re-ignited. He won’t get a thing from me. “I appreciate your offer, but
like I said, it won’t be necessary.”

Nick
crossed arms over his chest and asked, “Do you know what he’s after?”

“No,”
she answered, a tad too quickly. Delaney ran a hand over her head, around the
cotton hairband of her ponytail, then dropped it to the strap of her backpack. Catching
movement from the corner of her eye, she flashed to Ernie’s cabin to see Albert
ambling out onto the porch.

Her
grip on the flat strap tightened.
Great
. Delaney took a step toward her
cabin, but then turned back to Nick. With a tip of her head toward the main
house, she said, “I think there are enough people around, the man won’t attempt
anything here.” It was one thing to fire at her in the woods where there wasn’t
a soul around. It was quite another to do so within range of potential
witnesses.

“I
think you’re underestimating him.” Nick’s gaze tightened on her. “Why?”

“Why?”
She dropped her gaze to the ground beneath him, sidestepping his penetrating
glare. “Just a hunch.” Besides, she couldn’t imagine the man would have the
audacity to seek her out at home.

“Women’s
intuition, huh?”

She
lifted her gaze to meet his. “Yeah, something like that.”

Nick
smiled. “Just the same, I think I’ll stay.”

“But
you have no right!”

“You
can always call the police.”

The
man knew darn well she didn’t want the police involved.

When
she didn’t reply, Nick said, “So it’s settled.”

“No,
it’s not
settled
,” she snapped. But did she have a choice? Delaney
checked the sports watch on her wrist. Four o’clock. Clearly, the events of the
day had taken their toll. She was hot, tired. It was getting late. She rolled
her eyes toward the open section of sky, the late afternoon sun casting a
veneer of yellow-gold over blue.
Gold
.

Delaney
heaved a sigh. The prospect was thrilling and complicating at the same time and
she needed time to think. She dropped her head back to face Nick, hauled the
backpack further up her shoulder and said, “Fine. But will you do me a favor
and stay out of sight of my daughter? I don’t want her to get the wrong idea,
or anything...” The quick warmth to her cheeks bothered her, as did the smile
forming on his lips.

He
chuckled. “Wouldn’t think of it.”

Delaney
grunted. Trudging off in the direction of her cabin, she focused on the night
ahead. The men from the woods didn’t know where she lived. They only knew where
her horse had been. Would they contact Clem? A sliver of doubt scampered
through her. Would he tell them where to find her? Delaney slowly turned her
head for a second look at Nick.

Nick
acknowledged her with a slight nod of his head, and Delaney turned away. Maybe
having him close by wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Climbing
up the hill, Delaney plodded in the front door of her cabin. She flicked the
lights on and deposited the backpack onto the kitchen counter. Mentally hitting
the rewind button on the day, she recalled how close she came to getting shot. A
mild shudder raced up her back. The man had shot at her and his bullet had been
close. Too close.

But
she hadn’t been hit. She was okay. Retrieving the camera from her pack, Delaney
leaned her hip against the counter and scrolled through the photos. As she zoomed
in on several, the first release from the trauma began to take hold. She could
breathe easy. She could relax. She pressed a button and scrutinized an image. She
could decipher the man, his build. She could pick him out of a line up, if she
had to. The pictures weren’t great, but they were good enough for visual ID.

Relief
streamed through her. The risk had been worth it.

Delaney
laid the camera on to the counter. Looking back, she’d known there was an
element of danger involved. But peering down at the tiny screen of her camera,
she had also known she would get nowhere without photographic evidence. It was
her only chance at stopping them, dead in their tracks.
Dead in their tracks
.
The thought hit close to home. Too close.

Suddenly,
she remembered the phone call that had sent everything spiraling out of
control. She’d never checked her messages. Delaney yanked open the backpack and
grabbed the cell phone. A voicemail from Felicity. Her heart leaped. Quickly,
she jabbed at images on the screen until she was listening to the message. Delaney
closed her eyes. Thank God, it hadn’t been an emergency. Felicity wanted to
stay the night at her friend’s house. Under the circumstances, it was perfect
timing. Now there would be no need to explain Nick’s presence on the property
after dark.

Delaney
called her daughter, and after a brief chat, felt almost normal. Only her
sweat-stained shirt and filthy jeans remained grim reminders that she needed a
hot shower and she needed it now. With only a passing thought to Nick, she
strolled into her bedroom, disrobed and stepped into her shower. With warm
water streaming over her body, she closed her eyes and breathed in deep and
full. Actually, it was kinda nice knowing that Prince Harris was standing guard
tonight. Inundated with a spattering of nerves, she grinned. Even if it was a
silly, outdated notion, it was nice to know a big strong man was watching out
for her.

An
hour later, Delaney poured herself a glass of red wine, then walked to the
sofa. It was the rare treat she allowed herself when Felicity wasn’t home. She
drank in private, not because she was ashamed, but because she wanted to set a
good example for her daughter. Jack Foster had been a drinker. He’d been a hard
drinker, and it had affected his behavior in undesirable ways. Delaney wasn’t
sure if Felicity remembered those days—those awful, violent days—but she wasn’t
about to take the chance. There would be no association between her loving
mother and her alcoholic father. None.

No
sooner had Delaney sat than she abandoned the sofa for the window. She nudged
the curtain aside and peered outside. It was dark, a near moonless night. Her
porch light was on, cutting her ability to see down the trail to any extent,
making for an obscured approach, if one was so inclined. Was Nick there? Did he
mean what he said about not leaving her alone?

She
closed the curtain. If Clem did have a notion to come after her, she would be
ready. Delaney spied the dishcloth, her fully-loaded pistol partially hidden
beneath. Inhaling against the sudden fluttering of her heart, she understood
that self-preservation came first.

As
she idled in the center of the living room, her stomach growled, sharp and
lingering. She realized she was famished. When was the last time she ate? Startled
by the realization it had been a single granola bar for breakfast, she went
straight to the refrigerator.

Outside,
Nick Harris walked the perimeter of Ernie’s cabin before heading up to
Delaney’s cabin. A light was on inside, but there was no sound. Was the old man
asleep? At nine o’clock, he might be. Didn’t appear he had anything else to do.
There was no television antennae attached to his roof and he didn’t strike Nick
as a reader. Ernie Ladd was a smoker and a hothead, with little else going for
him. Other than this beautiful property. Nick glanced up at Delaney’s cabin. Speaking
of beautiful...

Desire
stirred in his loins. A beautiful woman was up there alone. Felicity’s car
wasn’t parked out front, which meant she wasn’t home. Through the dense cover
of trees, Nick could see dots of lights emanating from her cabin. What was she
doing? Nick lit the ground with a flashlight he picked up at a hardware store
in town and made his way closer. He could hear the creek before he saw it, lifting
his light to illuminate the rickety wooden bridge. Wandering over it, fast
moving water caught the white beams from his light.

Swiping
a quick flash of light around him, he extinguished it. Committing the layout of
the terrain to memory, he headed to a large tree—one that marked the way straight
up to Delaney’s cabin. Leaning into the rough bark, he settled into the night. The
rhythmic vibration of katydids pulsated loudly against a steady stream of
higher-pitched crickets, with the occasional frog piping in. Other than nature
at work, he detected no sounds, no movement. Nothing. It was a lonesome sound,
but it was a sound that called to him. No stranger to the night forest, he used
to camp for days at a time in the rugged landscape of the Rocky Mountains with
his father and knew the sounds of serenity well. He and his dad would hunt by
day, drink whiskey by night, share stories around the flames of a campfire.

His
father’s stories usually centered on his own youth, a litany of his adventures
and without fail he wound a history lesson into the mix. Indians, pioneers,
trains, industry titans... Pleasure rolled through Nick. Those were good days. Simple
joys for a simple time in his life. His horizons didn’t expand until after he
built his first hotel, one he built outside his hometown.

Nick
recalled the days and nights spent designing, building, dreaming up new ways to
work his masterpiece into the mountainous land that was a part of him. Living
at one with nature had been ingrained in his mindset from the beginning. His
mother worked a summer garden every year, and he worked right alongside her. From
seed to harvest, he learned every step of the process, could identify plants
based on their leaf shape, their smell—even count the days to corn harvest from
the first sign of yellow-green silk. His mom used to laugh at him, calling him
a perfectionist in the making.

Fond
feelings washed through him. She was right. He was a perfectionist. His father taught
him a different side of the land. With the right tools and a tree, Nick could
craft the finest piece of furniture, throw up a structure from floor to roof,
with enough wood left over to make a fire in the hearth. The backyard shed had
been his first solo project and the thing stood to this day. Quality came from
basic materials and sturdy construction. It was a lesson that stuck with him. Build
it right the first time and you won’t have to mess with it again. From day one,
Nick demanded the finest in materials be used to construct his properties. He
expected his staff to deliver top-notch service to his guests. And his women...

He
rolled an eye upward through the black of night. He only spent time with the
most beautiful, intelligent creatures on the Planet Earth. Made no sense to
waste time with anything less. Though “obstinate” was a new trait for his
roster. He’d dated headstrong women before, independent thinkers with a
definite mind of their own, and he enjoyed them, enjoyed the challenge they
presented. But obstinate?

Nick
laughed softly. Delaney Wilkins was obstinate to a damn near fault! She was
almost foolhardy, the way she dismissed his protection. His senses sharpened. The
woman was in danger, there was no mistaking it. Convincing her of the same was proving
to be the challenge.

Making
his way up the trail toward her cabin, Nick kept his footsteps light. If
trouble showed up tonight, he wanted no distance between himself and Delaney. The
man on the trail this afternoon had a decidedly determined look in his eye. He
wanted something and Nick would bet his life Delaney knew what that something
was. She was no innocent in the matter, he was sure of it. And where she seemed
to have recovered from her harrowing experience—whatever it might be—she
refused to share the cause with him.