Oregon Outback (17 page)

She was still waiting and prayed today wouldn’t be the day they were needed.

They’d unhitched Carver’s trailer and sent Janice—who had an eye for Carver—on her way. Sheridan radioed their location and would update Ronny, using her mobile transmitter unit.

Now that the stakes had risen, and they were chasing real fugitives, a couple of her deputies would acquire more horses and join her and Carver in apprehending the rustlers on horseback.

Legs squeezing the saddle and the powerful beast beneath her, Sheridan focused on the terrain ahead. The rustlers had cut into a crag-lined ravine, hoping to lose their tail. She and Carver had lost time, but not much. At some point Mr. Driggs, if that was his real name, would have to slow down. He must have thought he had nothing to lose by running.

While the ravine offered the men cover and possibly an escape into the mountains if they could evade the law, their strategy could also backfire, cornering them with no way out. On the other hand, the ravine was dangerous for Carver and Sheridan going in after fugitives who were waiting on them.

They could easily be ambushed. Sheridan knew firsthand the rustlers weren’t afraid to tackle the law. Carver slowed when they reached the ravine’s entry point, and leaned on the pommel.

He removed his hat and wiped his forehead with his sleeve, his gaze sliding to meet hers. She’d bet he was thinking the same thing.

“It’s too dangerous.”

“You’re right. I can’t ask you to go in there. These men stole my cattle. I’ll handle it.” His voice sounded strained. He tore his gaze from her and looked over the expanse. “By the time your deputies get here, the rustlers might be long gone, but I think you should wait on them. At least we know where the rustlers are holing up for now.”

She’d heard his mantra too many times. He didn’t want her getting hurt. She frowned, uncertainty enveloping her like never before. He was right—if they waited on the other deputies, they could lose the rustlers.

“I don’t think they’re going to kill us. They wouldn’t want murder on their list of crimes. If they’d wanted to kill me, they would have done that back at the house.”

“Maybe they tried. Thought you’d be trampled and they could say it was an accident. But you scrambled under the truck, and they made a run for it.”

He had a point. And just thinking about it again made her mad.

“Maybe I should at least deputize you, though I don’t think anyone’s done that in a hundred years,” she teased, hoping to add some levity.

He pulled a 30-30 saddle rifle out and placed it across his saddle. “Wouldn’t want the sheriff’s department held liable for my actions. I’m prepared to make a citizen’s arrest if necessary.”

The bruise on his face a stark reminder that he was serious, she read in his eyes that she couldn’t stop him from pursuing the rustlers. She radioed again, providing the location of the ravine for Ronny and the others.

“We’re going in together. I’ll make the arrest.” She urged her mount ahead of Carver, ignoring his unsmiling, disapproving expression. “I don’t need people saying the sheriff can’t handle a couple of rustlers.”

Sheridan couldn’t be positive that she wasn’t letting her pride get in the way of good judgment. Regardless, letting these men get away from her twice wouldn’t go unnoticed. She was the sheriff; she was trained to face dangerous situations. Carver needed to accept that.

On his horse, he sidled up next to her, though he wouldn’t be able to do that for long. The path narrowed considerably. “Sheriff, let me lead you.”

“I’m trained to apprehend suspects, I’m carrying the weapon that’s going to protect us, if need be, so put away yours. I know what I’m doing.”

“And I’ve got more experience riding a horse on this kind of ground. One wrong step and those rustlers will be the last of your worries.”

She slowed up and sighed, peering at Carver. “Looks like we’re going to have to work together.”

He grinned. “Don’t tell me it’s come to that.”

“After you.” She gestured for him to go ahead of her, and as he passed, she whispered, “We should keep conversation to a minimum.”

He nodded.

No need to alert the rustlers of their presence, even though they were probably expected. She watched him nudge his mount in front of hers. She’d bet they’d have to dismount at some point. Maybe even leave the horses. She hoped not.

They successfully picked their way down the rocky descent into the ravine, each second packed with worry, while she watched the crags, searching for Driggs.

Was he watching them now?

God in heaven, I hope we don’t have to camp here tonight
.

At the bottom of the gorge, the river was low, affording them a shallow bank. They watered the horses, and drank from the supply that Carver had stowed in their packs. The sun had risen high in the sky, blazing down into the river-carved canyon. Sheridan couldn’t remember when she’d been so thirsty and guzzled the water.

Carver pressed his hand against her canteen, lowering it. He shook his head slightly, making her understand she had to go easy on the water. She was beginning to read his every thought—it was a little scary, understanding this man who’d grated on her for so many years.

But not anymore.

He stared at her long and hard, and she shifted her eyes to the river that ran clear and true. Confused at every turn where Carver was concerned, she wished her thoughts about him would do the same.

Carver touched her arm, gaining her attention, then pointed at something on the ground.

Tracks in the sandy loam—two horses and two men—hedged the river as far as she could see.

Carver hated that his search for cattle had turned into this hunt for rustlers in the worst possible scenario.

On foot, he led Kodiak along the riverbank, following tracks that seemed to lead on forever, his senses alert to the slightest sounds or movement ahead of him. Why had it been too much of a strain for him to think of bringing a good dog? That would have these boys sniffed out in no time.

If they were still in the ravine.

They were here. Carver could feel it. Living on a ranch, managing cattle in this harsh land, he’d trained his senses to be in tune with everything around him—the animals, the trees and plants, the wind, and the sounds. He’d learned to pay attention to his gut. The smallest of things could be important.

But it didn’t take a sensitive man to recognize that the sheriff was tiring and quickly. She wasn’t accustomed to this pace. To be fair, Carver was feeling the pinch, too. If they didn’t remain alert, and at their best, they could get killed.

They’d walked the entire afternoon, and now the sun was setting, though it would grow dark quicker in the gorge. He studied the shadowed crags farther on and was keenly aware when the sheriff stood next to him.

How had he let this happen? One phone call to inform her he’d had cattle stolen, and now the two of them were hiking in a ravine, chasing men who could kill them. Tearing his gaze from what lay ahead to look at her, he studied the shadows beneath her eyes. The sweat and smudges across her face. He’d done this to her.

No. She would have gone after these men, one way or the other. She was a strong woman, wanting to prove herself at every turn.

“We should go back now,” he whispered.

Should have headed back an hour ago.

“We won’t make it out before dark, Carver. We both know that.”

He nodded. “We’ll make camp.”

“It’ll have to be minimal. No fire, nothing to draw attention.”

They found a small fissure to hole up in for protection from the weather. Hidden behind a rock, Carver could keep watch—he could see, but couldn’t be seen. He hoped the sheriff wouldn’t argue with him.

He dug out a few protein bars in different flavors and held them up like cards. What he wouldn’t give for this time alone with her under different circumstances. Maybe one day he would get his chance. Another chance, that is.

She took a peanut caramel bar. After tearing into the wrapping, she bit into it and looked up at him, watching her like an idiot, or a love-starved puppy, take your pick. Her emerald eyes had lost their sheen in the heat of the day, and now, the dusk of a forgotten ravine.

Carver wanted to take her in his arms again, like he’d done earlier that morning. To wipe the grime from her face, feel her soft skin beneath his fingers. At first, she’d clung to him, clearly upset by the turn of events. But all too soon she’d shaken free, her steel-plated veneer back in place.

“While you eat, I’m going to keep watch.”

Her eyes grew wide and she froze, midchew. He knew exactly what she thought—she was about to object. If he’d been smart, he would have waited for her to make the call.

Before she could swallow and speak her mind he cut her off. “You might be the sheriff, but you can’t keep watch all night. We’ll take turns. I’ll be on the first shift. You finish your dinner, drink, and rest.” Carver stood and adjusted his shirt, tugged at his pants. Why couldn’t this night be different? Why couldn’t they be on a date? A real date.

Would they make it out of this alive? He had a bad feeling in his gut, which he never ignored. Regret seeped into his heart.

So much wasted time.

Looking down at her, he grinned. “Listen, when we get out of this, I’d like to take you out. You and me spending time together under better circumstances. Maybe we could eat at a nice restaurant.”

Without waiting for her reply, he shimmied around the rock to keep watch. He hadn’t phrased it as a question, just a simple statement, letting her know his intentions. He probably should have waited to see her reaction, but giving the idea time to sink in was best—for both of them.

Now, he had to figure out how to stay awake and keep them safe.

A
fter she finished her second energy bar for the day, Sheridan was still hungry. Disappointed in the way things had played out so far, disappointed in herself, she snuggled into the thermal blanket Carver had supplied—one like his boys used when they were working the range. She trusted it would keep her warm, but it wouldn’t keep her safe if Driggs and his partner found them.

If the matter weren’t serious, she’d chuckle. Today’s experience riding horseback in the outback, trailing a fugitive, made her feel like she was living in the Wild West, during the 1800s.

She’d expected Ronny and the others to catch up at some point, but they hadn’t, and down in this gorge, Sheridan couldn’t contact them on the radio—the mobile unit wouldn’t transmit. Nor Carver’s satellite phone. She yawned, the tug of sleep pulling at her eyelids, and gazed up at the stars, her head positioned on a sham of a makeshift pillow.

If it weren’t for moonlight shimmering into the canyon, she probably couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. Still, the stars shone like she’d never seen before. The darkness had a way of making them brighter.

That must be what happened with her and Carver. Two people who couldn’t get along, but now, the shady dealings of a cattle rustler had brought out the good in Carver, shining light on the man he really was.

Sheridan wasn’t sure why she’d refused to see before. Maybe he’d seemed to have a low opinion of her as well, but she’d never given him a chance, preferring to think the worst of him. Now, she saw that because he cared about her, he was just plain overprotective. It wasn’t that he thought she couldn’t handle the job as sheriff.

Sheridan had read him all wrong. The last thing he’d said to her about having dinner today … well, warmth spread all through her again at the thought.

I’d like that, Carver. I’d like that very much …

Now if they could catch Driggs and his cohort, and take them to the county jail, Sheridan would be one happy sheriff.

Sheridan woke to a crick in her neck. No. That wasn’t it. She’d heard a noise. Her head propped on a flat rock, she sat up as realization dawned—she was in a ravine out in the middle of the wilds of Oregon. With more effort than she was accustomed to, she scrambled to her feet and worked the kinks out of her back.

She glanced at her watch, but couldn’t read it. If she turned on the flashlight, she might give herself away. She had a feeling she’d slept too long. Carver should have woken her by now. Making sure her firearm was secured in her belt, she took measured steps around the rock in search of him. On the far side, more light reflected from the moonlight hitting the crags across the river.