Rescued by the Ranger (6 page)

One corner of his lip twitched slightly, and his eyes shone with amusement . . . at her expense. “That’s really
nice
of you, Rachel. Is oh-eight-hundred too early?”

“Not at all. I’ll have time to get my run in before we start.” Rachel lifted the pile of dishes she’d accumulated and started to push her chair out.

Garrett was instantly behind her, moving her chair away from the table. As she brushed by him he laid a hand lightly on her arm, and that same pulse of energy that had leaped between them earlier in the Jeep hit her full force again. “You run? I’d like to get a few miles in myself. Would you mind if I joined you? Especially after what happened at the bar today. It might not hurt for you to have some company.”

Oh no!
Rachel closed her eyes and waited for it.

“What happened at the bar today?”

She turned to face Peg’s questioning gaze. Jonathan scowled blackly in Garrett’s direction and leaned back in his chair, looking as though he’d like to disappear right along with her. She and Jonathan had an unspoken agreement—they didn’t worry Peg unnecessarily. Too bad Rachel hadn’t taken into consideration the likelihood that Garrett would mention the events of the day.

“It was nothing, Peg. Riley and his brothers had a little too much to drink and were out having fun.” Rachel forced a smile.

Peg nodded, and the whole darn thing would have gone away if Rachel could only have found a way to shut Garrett up. She whirled on him as soon as he started to speak.

“Wait a minute. It was a hell of a lot more than that. Those hoodlums were intent on taking Rachel somewhere without her consent. Where I come from, that’s called kidnapping. And they were
having fun
with two sawed-off shotguns.” His gaze swept from Peg, to Jonathan, to Rachel.

When his eyes turned to her, his
oh-shit
moment was obvious, but it was too late.

Peg left her seat and strode toward her. “Are you all right, dear?”

“Of course. I’m fine, and there’s nothing to worry about. Jonathan had a talk with them, and I’m sure they won’t do anything like that again.” Rachel glared at Jonathan, hoping he’d back her up, but he remained silent.

“Jonathan knew about this, too, and neither of you thought to tell me? Well, thank goodness for Garrett.” She smiled fondly at him. “Riley’s bunch has gotten out of hand. Something needs to be done about them. I think it’s time to have a talk with the sheriff. For now, Rachel, I don’t want you outside the lodge alone until the sheriff has had a chance to check into this.” Peg waited for Rachel’s dutiful nod before she dropped her napkin on the table and started for the door. “Jonathan, may I have a word, please?”

Jonathan groaned and glowered at Rachel as he stood and pushed his chair back. “You’re going to be the death of me, girl.”

“It wasn’t my fault. It was . . . ”

“
He
didn’t know we were keeping that information from Peg, did he? I’m afraid this one’s on you, Rachel.” Jonathan nodded briefly at Garrett and followed Peg’s path from the room.

Okay, so maybe she was at fault, and if she ever got Riley in her sights again, she was going to shoot the worthless vermin, but why was Jonathan suddenly siding with her least favorite person?

Garrett stepped in front of her, raising his hands as though in supplication. “I’m sorry, but even if I’d known, I still would have told her. Someone needs to take this seriously.”

Rachel let out the breath she’d been holding, and with her next inhale, she choked on a bitter laugh. “Jonathan’s right. It’s not your fault—it’s mine. I should have told Peg myself. And if I get my wish for a total do-over for today, everything will go back to normal in the morning.” She tried a smile as her gaze met his, but had a feeling it turned out completely cheesy.

Regret clouded his eyes for an instant as he studied her. “I apologize for my part. Obviously, I’m the last person you wanted to have show up here. I’m hoping to change your mind about that, but if not, I want you to know that I’ll keep my word and be out of here come Tuesday.”

Rachel had the perfect retort, but for some reason, she couldn’t force the words out. Maybe his apology was too genuine, or perhaps the sadness that had fallen over him in an instant had stolen her derision. The longer she stared into his eyes, the less she wanted to own the hatred she’d held on to for so long.

Garrett’s steel-gray eyes darkened as his gaze swept over her face and lingered on her lips. Self-consciously, Rachel turned to take the stack of dishes to the kitchen, but was stopped when his hand gripped her elbow. The strength and warmth of his gentle grasp made her breath hitch as she met his eyes again. No humor waited there now . . . no sadness . . . only longing.

Unexpectedly, a shiver engulfed her, and an ache of something long forgotten flared to life deep inside. For endless seconds, she couldn’t look away from his eyes, until the rattling of the dishes she held between them broke the spell. Rachel pulled from his touch, but it was another second before she broke eye contact, feeling strangely weak and shaky. Afraid her voice would give her away, she let the silence stretch for a moment. No one moved. “Six thirty in the morning . . . if you still want to run. Don’t be late,” Rachel said, then turned and hurried from the room.

Chapter Five

T
HE ALARM WENT
off on the bedside table, and he slammed his hand down on the button to cut the annoying sound. Cowboy rose from his bedroll on the floor and stuck his nose in Garrett’s face.

“At least one of us slept, huh, boy?” It wasn’t Garrett. Between his mother’s unanswered letters, his father’s probable deception, and Rachel’s enigmatic pull on emotions that hadn’t been heard from in a while, he’d tossed and turned most of the night.

He’d been crazy to make that ridiculous deal with her. On a scale of one to ten, Garrett’s chances of getting Rachel to change her mind about him sat pretty close to zero. Right now, he’d settle for her merely tolerating him. From divulging the information to Peg that Rachel had intended to keep to herself, to mistakenly concluding she would abide his touch, he’d managed to lessen his odds considerably in the space of only a few hours. He should probably leave now and save himself the humiliation.

But he wouldn’t, even though his original plan had been to get in and out of here the same day with answers to his questions about his mother and with no emotional commitment to Aunt Peg. So why did he care what Rachel thought of him?

Fact was, he’d drawn his first totally peaceful breath in as long as he could remember after walking out of Peg’s office yesterday. It was a feeling he wouldn’t mind holding on to for a while. Plus he hadn’t quite gotten out without a scratch in the emotional commitment department. Irrational though it might be, he felt he owed Peg something. He didn’t need Rachel’s permission to stay, but it would make things easier on both of them if she didn’t hate his guts.

She’d obviously been close to Amanda, and the idea of seeing his mother through her eyes intrigued Garrett, but he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he was drawn to her, too. Rachel was an attractive, intelligent, sexy woman, and her charms weren’t lost on him. Usually she was bristling with put-downs and smart-ass remarks, but he’d gotten to see the softer, vulnerable side of her twice now, and he wanted to get to know that woman better. A chuckle escaped, sounding more like a grunt, at the foolish idea he might actually break through the barriers she had. That would probably take an act of God
and
Congress.

Cowboy’s tail wagged slowly as Garrett swung his feet to the floor and rubbed his hands over his face. It was 0600 hours. He had time to throw on some running clothes, make a couple of phone calls, and still meet Rachel before she took off without him.

He patted the dog, then grunted with the effort to stand. The damaged muscles in his back had stiffened on the long trip, and a night of restless sleep hadn’t helped. He’d need to get back on a regular exercise routine to keep his muscles warm and pliant. Turning on the table lamp and glancing at the clock again, he shuffled into the bathroom. A few minutes later, he slipped into a pair of old sweats and a charcoal gray army T-shirt. After donning socks and running shoes, he pulled his cell phone from the pocket of the jeans he’d worn yesterday.

He moved to the window as he dialed a number. The call was answered on the first ring. “Hey, Luke. Still up at the crack of dawn, I see.”

“Garrett. It’s damn time you called. I was about to come looking. Did you find Aunt Peg? Tell me about our inheritance.” His brother’s familiar voice, filled with humor, drifted over the distance, making Garrett homesick.

With them both in different branches of the military, a sadistic machine that didn’t seem to care whether their leaves coincided, they’d had to snatch bits of time when they could in various ports of call. Regardless, no matter how long it’d been since he looked his brother in the eye, Garrett would always put his faith in the strength of their shared bond. “It’s a long story, Luke. I’ve got a lot to tell you . . . and I’d rather not do it over the phone.”

“Good. When will you be home?” Luke punctuated his question with a yawn.

Garrett hesitated only a second. At some point during his sleepless night, Garrett had toyed with the idea of asking Luke to come to the lodge, but he hadn’t made a decision until the words came off his tongue. “I need you to come to Idaho. I found Aunt Peg, and I think you should hear what she has to say about our mother.” He waited through the silence on the other end.

“Sure. I can probably get out there in a few days.” Luke’s tone made it clear he was certain Garrett had lost his mind.

Garrett grinned. If Luke thought he was crazy now, wait until he told him the rest. “Actually, I need you out here tomorrow.”

“What the hell’s the rush, man?”

Garrett considered avoiding the truth of his agreement with Rachel . . . but he’d never lied to Luke before, and this wasn’t the right time to start. Maybe coming clean with the whole embarrassing truth would pique his brother’s curiosity. “There’s a kick-ass gorgeous redhead here that I’m trying to impress.”

Luke was quiet for a moment before his deep laughter dispelled the awkward moment. “In the first place, you were supposed to call me if there were any pretty girls around. And second, that doesn’t explain why you need me
tomorrow
.”

“The problem is the young lady detests me. So, I asked her to give me two days to change her mind. If I can’t manage it, I’ll be back in my Jeep, on my way home, day after tomorrow.”

“What’s the problem? I’ve never known you to lack confidence or shirk a challenge.” The warmth in Luke’s teasing voice put a smile on Garrett’s face.

“I’ve managed to screw up a couple things already—bad enough to make me think I might actually be out of here by Tuesday.” Garrett grimaced at confessing his clumsiness to his brother.

“Wait a minute. Are you saying you’d really leave there because of this . . . agreement?”

“You haven’t met Rachel yet. I’m fairly certain she’d have me hung from the nearest tree if I reneged.”

Luke hooted. “All right. I want to meet this girl who has you trembling in your boots. I’ll be there tomorrow. What’s the closest airport?”

“Lewiston, I think. I’ll text you directions from there. You’ll have to rent a car.” Garrett stopped and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, little brother. I appreciate this.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, bro.” Luke disconnected the call.

Garrett squeezed the phone tightly. For just a second, all of the familiar abandonment issues rushed to the forefront of his mind. He loved his half brothers and his half sister, but Luke was his only real family and the closest connection he had to his mother. Every once in a while when they’d say good-bye or part company, the loneliness, still hanging over him from his mother’s desertion, jabbed its claws into him again. This time, however, anger followed close behind, which he easily transferred over to his father. He glanced at the clock again before dialing another number.

This time it rang at least ten times before a sleepy voice mumbled into the phone. “Do you know what the fucking time is, man?”

“Whatever it is there, it’s an hour later where I am. Times a-wasting, Jase.”

Poor Jase merely groaned.

Garrett wiped the grin off his face so his friend wouldn’t hear the amusement in his voice. “You don’t have to talk, Jase. Just listen. I assume you still have your private investigator’s license?”

Jase’s growl sounded as though it was in the affirmative.

“I’ve got a job for you. I think you’ll enjoy this one.”

“Why’s that?” Movements sounded through the phone and, when Jase spoke again, he seemed more awake and almost alert. “Are we digging into the fucking president’s liberal fundraising campaign?”

Garrett smiled. “Even better.”

Jase scoffed. “What could be better than that? You’re not jerking my chain, are you?”

“I want you to investigate my father.”

Stunned silence was Jase’s only response. As one of Garrett’s oldest friends, Jase Richards had spent a good deal of time under the senator’s roof while they were growing up. He probably knew the man as well as Garrett did.

It wasn’t often he’d left Jase speechless. “I need you to find someone who remembers what happened between my mother and father before she left. And there’s a bonus in it for you if you dig until you find something in the neighborhood of three hundred letters addressed to Luke and me.” Garrett’s jaw tightened as he said the words.

“What’s going on? Do you think there was more to your mother leaving than what your father let you believe? What kind of evidence do you have to back up what you’re insinuating about the senator?”

“All hearsay. I ran into someone with a different version of what went down. That’s why I need you. Will you scrounge up the truth for me?” Garrett glanced at his watch again and scratched Cowboy’s ears, trying not to show his impatience.

Finally, Jase exhaled a long breath. “For you, Garrett, I’ll do what I can.”

“I knew I could count on you. Call me, day or night, if you need anything.” Cowboy pressed against his leg, his way of saying he was ready to go.

“Will do, buddy. Listen, how’s it been going? Are you taking care of yourself, you know . . . like you’re supposed to? I get the feeling you’re not in Sacramento. Where are you?”

Garrett frowned. Clearly, Jase was worried about him because of his injury. That’s what his friends did now, and Garrett was tired of being treated like an invalid. The truth was his wound had probably healed as much as it would. The only thing left to do was tone and push his body to reach the peak physical condition he’d maintained before his injury . . . and then learn to be happy with the best that he could do. In reality, that was the easy part. Dealing with the guilt he woke up with every day because he’d survived when ten good men had died—much more difficult.

“I’m okay, Jase. Thanks for asking.” As much as it grated on him, Garrett wouldn’t hold it against his friends for being concerned about him. “I gotta go. Call me, okay?”

“I’ll keep you posted.” Jase was gone.

Garrett shoved his phone in his pocket, retrieved his sweatshirt from the back of a chair beside the bed, and donned it on the way to the door. Cowboy loped along beside him, obviously excited to be on the go.

Not another soul was stirring in the hallway outside his room, the stairwell, or the lobby downstairs. It was so quiet, Garrett began to wonder if Rachel had given him the wrong time to meet, but the moment he stepped out onto the front porch, he saw her.

Her posture was rigid, her body language beyond tense as she stood in the shadows at the end of the covered porch to his right. She appeared to be staring into the trees and shrubbery at the side of the lodge, her back to him, giving no indication that she knew he was anywhere around.

Garrett tapped his leg, signaling for Cowboy to be quiet, and swallowed the greeting that was poised on his tongue as Rachel slunk backward a step into the deepest shadows. Garrett stood still, listening, trying to see into the darkness of the tree line beyond the lodge. Nothing moved. It was as still as a cemetery—yet the skin on the back of his neck prickled with apprehension. Something was wrong.

He closed the door without a sound and moved silently toward her. A foot or so behind her, he stopped and reached to tap her on the shoulder. As though she’d received a blow, Rachel whipped around, balled one hand into a fist, and threw a clumsy punch toward his jaw. Cowboy growled his warning.

Garrett caught her wrist just before she connected, but she inhaled sharply, her mouth came open, and he was sure the scream she intended to let loose would wake everyone inside the house and succeed in scaring away whoever or whatever she’d been watching.

Garrett pressed his hand over her mouth and pushed her back against the wall. He watched her eyes go from wide and startled to narrow and distrustful, and the realization of just how much she despised him caused a strange ache in his chest. “I’m going to let you go, okay?”

She nodded.

Garrett still pressed her against the lodge, but removed his hand from her mouth and rested it on her shoulder. “What’s out there? What did you see?”

Her eyes flickered beyond the railing again. “I thought I heard something—someone moving through the bushes—but I didn’t see anyone.”

“I’ll go check it out. Stay here.” He stepped away from her and immediately felt the loss of her warmth along his body.

“I’ll go with you.” She stared at him with that same challenge in her expression that he was starting to find appealing in a strange way.

Suddenly, Cowboy’s frenzied barking jerked Garrett’s attention toward the woods. The dog paced the width of the porch, his gaze locked on something in the shadow of the trees. A hurried movement caught Garrett’s eye, accompanied by the sound of running footsteps.

“Stay here,” he growled over his shoulder as he vaulted the top rail. Cowboy hit the ground right behind him, and they both followed the sounds of the intruder’s flight through the trees toward the creek. He didn’t have a significant lead, yet Garrett caught only glimpses of the man’s silhouette between the large pine trees.

He pushed himself to overtake the stranger, but each jarring step on the uneven, unfamiliar ground sent a sharp pain shooting through his thigh, straight to the weakened muscles of his back. The stranger could easily have outdistanced him, but appeared to purposely stay within fifty feet or so. Taunting him, as though the man knew Garrett’s limitations and had nothing to fear. As he disappeared into the shadows again, frustration and anger burned in Garrett, and he slowed to a walk, then stopped, bracing one arm against a tree to take some of the pressure off his bad leg.

Cowboy, trained to stay with him, circled anxiously, waiting for the command to take the enemy down. Garrett raised his arm, ready to issue the words, but something about the situation made him hesitate.

An instant later, an unfamiliar voice cut across the darkness. “Don’t make me shoot him.”

Garrett’s gaze darted ahead to the creek, not forty feet away, where the man was just stepping out from behind a tree. For a split second he was framed by the feeble light of the horizon. It was long enough for Garrett to get an impression of their intruder and to spot the shoulder holster the man wore over his black turtleneck, his hand resting on the gun handle.