Rescued by the Ranger (8 page)

His eyes were almost black as he faced off against Riley, daring him to make the first move. She saw it in Riley’s expression the instant he got the message—Garrett wouldn’t back down. Riley stepped aside, trouncing on Matt’s foot. Matt jumped and let out a yowl.

As Rachel brushed past Riley, he stroked one finger up her arm. She jerked away from his touch and her gaze darted to his.

He leaned toward her, keeping his voice low. “Been gettin’ any mysterious phone calls, Rach?”

She nearly stopped breathing from the effort to show no reaction. How did Riley know about the phone calls? Dory was the only other person who knew, and she’d sworn not to tell—and even if she
had
, it wouldn’t be to the likes of the Metcalf brothers. Dory had her standards after all
.
It had to be
Jeremy
. Her first instinct had been right—it had been Jeremy outside the lodge, watching her. He’d found her. Terror flowed freely, leaving her trembling in its wake. She couldn’t stay here and wait for him to hurt her or one of her friends. Not this time.

As soon as they were inside, out of sight, Rachel let her breath out and pulled away from Garrett. She leaned against the wall, clasping her handbag to her stomach as she gasped for air, her mind going at mach nine. Moving on would be so hard, but what better time than when Garrett Harding had showed up out of the blue wanting a whole new relationship with Peg? It was perfect . . . if she could convince him to stay on a more permanent basis. How was that for irony?

He propped himself beside her. “Are you going to tell me what he said that has you so upset?”

Rachel forced her breathing back to normal, stood straight, and glanced at him. “Nothing. Just more of his drivel. Thanks for what you said, Garrett. It meant a lot, especially after the way I’ve treated you.”

He nodded. “I meant it, but I don’t believe you’re telling me the truth about Riley, so we’re going to continue this conversation later.” He gripped her hand. “Let’s visit with the sheriff so we can get out of this town.”

She allowed him to pull her toward the sheriff’s office down the hall, as anxious to be out of there as he was.

Garrett glanced over his shoulder. “By the way,
two mules and a coal train
?”

She laughed as his sexy smile grabbed her attention. “I’ve had ten years to pick up some local color. You should be thankful I’m selective in what I’ll repeat.”

“Sure. I get that. I guess I’ve picked up some color in the army too, only mine’s a lot more predictable than yours, and I try not to repeat it.” He winked and squeezed her hand.

She was off balance. That had to be it. It was the only excuse she could think of. Here she was talking, smiling, actually enjoying the company of the man who only yesterday she hated with a passion. Who knew he would turn out to be a hard man to hate? At present, she couldn’t even drum up a decent scathing remark. Part of her felt like a traitor to herself and Amanda, but another part realized her lack of animosity would make it easier to convince him to stay so that she could make her escape with a little less guilt.

Garrett pulled her down the hallway and straight through the open doorway of the sheriff’s office. Millie, the receptionist behind the counter, smiled at Rachel, then stared appreciatively at Garrett. Sheriff Mike Connors turned and scowled at them. Rachel tensed, and Garrett, no doubt hoping to avoid another bloodletting, stepped toward Mike, shoving her behind him.

“Sheriff, my name’s Garrett Harding. Rachel and I are here at the request of my aunt, Peg Williams, to report an intruder out at the lodge.”

An instant of surprise turned to skepticism before the sheriff’s gaze slid away from Garrett and swept full-length over her, while she forced herself to stare right back. Eventually, he gave up on intimidating her and acknowledged Garrett’s presence. “I heard Peg’s nephew was in town. Well, Mr. Harding, you saved me a trip. I got a complaint about a dog belonging to you, and I was just on my way out to see you.” The sheriff’s voice held a high-pitched, nasally quality that grated on Rachel’s nerves.

She gasped and glanced at Garrett. The muscle flexing in his cheek said it all. Nobody messed with Cowboy. It had to be Riley complaining about the dog after Cowboy had defended Garrett in the bar yesterday. Hard to tell what lies he’d told. Rachel seethed with anger.

“It was Riley, wasn’t it? Mike, you’re not seriously going to take Riley’s word for anything without hearing both sides of the story, are you?” Her hand slid around Garrett’s arm, hoping to calm him.

All of five-eight and thick around the middle, Mike must have recognized the rage brewing in the bigger man’s expression and backed away a few steps. “Of course not. That’s why I was coming to see this dangerous animal for myself.”

A growl emanated from Garrett’s throat as though he was warring with himself. Apparently, he lost because he stepped in close to the sheriff. “Dangerous? You don’t know what dangerous is, Sheriff. That
animal
is a highly decorated war veteran who saved hundreds of US military personnel by flushing out insurgents and finding unexploded bombs. He’s trained to take the point on missions that would make your balls wither and fall off, and he never once hesitated to rip the throats out of the al-Qaeda scum that threatened his unit.”

The farther forward Garrett pushed, the farther away Mike leaned, and it was all Rachel could do to tamp down a giggle.

But Garrett wasn’t finished yet. “In case honor, loyalty, and gratitude don’t mean anything to you, Sheriff, and you have any lingering thoughts about touching my dog, you should probably know that I can have several high-ranking army officers, news teams from CNN and Fox, and a US senator here in a matter of hours with one phone call. They’ll be very interested in how you handle complaints against war heroes like that
animal
you’re referring to
.
I can almost guarantee they’ll turn your little town into the biggest media circus you’ve ever seen if there’s any hint of impropriety.”

Millie watched with a slight smile while Garrett berated her boss. Mike’s face was about as red as it could get, and he held his hands in front of him as though to ward off a physical attack.

“Calm down, Mr. Harding. I was led to believe your dog was running loose and endangering the residents on the mountain. I understand now that I’ve been . . . misinformed. As long as you can assure me the dog is under your control at all times, that’ll be the end of it.”

Garrett still viewed the sheriff distrustfully, but he backed off a step. “He’s under my control,” he growled.

Mike threw his hands in the air. “Fine, then. What did you folks need from me?”

Rachel bit her lip, trying not to smile, as she waited for Garrett to continue.

“I think we’re done here.” Garrett took her arm and turned her toward the door as her mouth dropped open. Something in his eyes warned her not to argue.

As they left the building, with the sheriff grumbling behind them, and strode toward Garrett’s Jeep, Rachel kept glancing at him, no longer able to keep her smile under control.

When they were a few feet from the vehicle, Garrett swung toward her. “What?”

Her smile widened. “Overprotective much?”

Chapter Seven

G
ARRETT OPENED THE
Jeep’s door for Rachel and closed it after she tossed her handbag in ahead of her and pulled herself into the passenger seat. Cowboy rose from where he lay in the back to shove his head between the seats and watch Garrett as he crossed to the other side of the vehicle. The intelligence in Cowboy’s eyes never failed to impress Garrett, and this moment, with the dog’s tail wagging leisurely, was no exception.

Hell yes. Rachel had nailed it. Cowboy was worth two or three of that backwoods sheriff, and Garrett would be damned if any unappreciative civilian would ever touch him.

He slid behind the wheel, but just as he was about to turn the key in the ignition, he stopped, his gaze fixed on the dashboard. “Okay. You’re right. I’m a little overprotective where Cowboy’s concerned . . . but I’m not going to apologize for that. He’s saved my life more times than I can remember. The least I can do is—”

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention just before she touched him, and his gaze traveled from where her slender fingers stroked the contours of his bicep to her rose-colored cheeks and her soft, pink mouth, closed on a wisp of smugness.

She smiled when his gaze reached hers, transforming her pretty face to hauntingly beautiful, and he lost himself for a moment in the depths of her green eyes. For a heartbeat, he forgot to breathe.

“You don’t need to explain. The bond between the two of you is obvious. I have nothing but respect for the way you defended him back there.” Rachel self-consciously removed her hand from his arm.

“Yeah? You mean I actually earned a couple points by standing up for this mangy dog?” He winked and started the engine. If he’d only known it was that easy.

Rachel laughed. “Don’t get your hopes up. You lost a few for not talking to the sheriff about our intruder like Peg asked.”

“Oh yeah—that. I don’t think he was really interested in anything we had to say. Actually, he convinced me to come over to your way of thinking. The less the sheriff knows about our business, the more comfortable I am. We’ll handle the intruder on our own.” Garrett looked in his side mirror and pulled away from the curb.

“Didn’t I tell you he was a crook?” Rachel latched her seat belt, clicking it home on the first try.

“And I should have listened to you.” He studied her for a moment before his attention swept back to the road. What was it about her that was so damned appealing? Long, slim legs stretched from beneath a short brown skirt, worn with a sleeveless white shirt that gathered just under her breasts and draped across her flat stomach. The picture she presented stirred something deep within him. But, it was more than just her physical appearance, although she didn’t lack for anything in that department. The contrast between her almost angelic face and the sharp bite of her words when she was riled presented an enigma that tantalized him.

“Oh no. Don’t give me that BS story. I’m not going to suddenly start thinking you’re this okay guy just because you flatter me and tell me what you think I want to hear. I don’t care whether you agree with me or not or how good you are to that dog. Nothing will change the way I feel about how you treated Amanda.” She actually mustered a tiny bit of an accusing scowl as she stared at him.

Garrett didn’t buy it. He no doubt had a ways to go yet, but he was getting to her. She was starting to let down her guard now and then—to show the real Rachel beneath the barriers.

He focused straight ahead as they left Grizzly Gulch behind. “You’re so full of shit, I’m surprised your eyes are still green.” A slow grin formed as he felt her gaze burning into the side of his face.

“Seriously? You think I’m not being honest with you? I’m not going to forget the nine years’ worth of anguish I witnessed Amanda go through simply because of one honorable act.”

Ouch! Then again, maybe he was wrong about making headway with her. Perhaps his best course of action would be letting her hold on to her anger for the past he couldn’t change and focus on his more immediate concern. “You’re not even being honest with yourself. You’re hiding something. Not just from me, but Aunt Peg and Jonathan, too. That stranger lurking outside the lodge this morning shook you up. My guess is you’re afraid he was waiting for you. Someone who’s probably been keeping tabs on you for a while and would know what time you’d be leaving for your run. He didn’t have any way of knowing I’d be there though, or Cowboy, and it ticks you off that I probably saved your ass. Am I close, Rach?”

She remained silent for several seconds as she turned to look out the window, then sighed deeply. “It doesn’t matter what you think. Whether you’re right or wrong, it doesn’t change anything.” Her voice was low and heavy with sadness.

“That’s where you’re wrong. Something
has
changed. Whether you ever decide you can forgive me or not, you were there for my mother, and I owe you for that.” He bit back the rest of his words before they could escape. Truth was he didn’t know how she’d react to his admission, and he was more than a little afraid she’d turn away from him entirely. That was the last thing he wanted, but there were also a couple of good reasons to continue, not the least of which was to let her know she could trust him to tell her the truth. If she also got that he wasn’t just a drive-by, that would be a bonus. What the hell—he was going for it.

“While we’re at it, here’s some honesty for you. I realize that you might always think I’m a snake and that’s your right . . . but I’m attracted to you. I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing you since I first saw you at the bar. Even before you learned who I was, I knew I wanted to see you again.” He stopped and glanced sideways, hoping for some clue as to her reaction. She still looked out the window as though she hadn’t heard him.

“You probably think I’m a stalker now.” Garrett laughed nervously. “I’m not. I promise. You can trust me with whatever your secret is. While I’m here, I just want to help. Let me help you, Rach.”

He looked her way in time to see her stiffen, and then she remained silent for so long he started to worry that he’d been right and his honesty had been the final straw.

A couple of minutes passed before she sighed and seemed to relax again. She glanced at him. “What do you want to do today?” By the spark of determination alight in the pretty eyes she turned toward him, he might as well accept that she was finished with his topic of conversation.

He didn’t blame her for changing the subject. Her business-as-usual question told him she didn’t plan to back away from the tenuous truce they’d cultivated, and that though she’d tried to hide it, he’d gotten his point across. It wasn’t the breakthrough he’d hoped for, but it could have been worse, and he’d take it. “Why don’t you surprise me.”

“Would you like to see where Peg and Amanda lived when they first came here?”

Excitement tinged her voice, and he grinned at her. “Perfect.”

She pointed to a dirt road up ahead. “Take a right.”

R
ACHEL WAS QUIET
for the rest of the ride, unless she was telling him where to go. The gravel road they ended up on fifteen minutes later was fairly smooth and well maintained. It led to a parking area beside a quaint log cabin that perched not thirty feet from the banks of a river. The water near the bank was shallow and meandered slowly, but the farther out he looked, the faster the water rushed by. Garrett parked and killed the engine, staring at the picturesque scene in front of him for a few minutes before he sensed Rachel watching him.

“Sorry.” He reached for the door latch. “This is where they lived?”

“Uh-huh. Until they built the lodge.” She jumped from the Jeep and was already waiting for him beside his door as he let Cowboy out.

“It’s really something. Who lives here now?”

Rachel’s expression filled with pride. “It’s closed up all winter, and we open it in the spring after the last frost. I was just here last week, getting it cleaned and stocked with a few staples. It’s ready to go for the season. Once in a while, Peg rents it out to a select few if the lodge fills up, but most of the time it’s empty. When Amanda was alive, she used it as a studio for her painting. Her work is still inside.”

“She painted?” So much he didn’t know about his mother—so unfair. Anger at his father began to brew again, and he very carefully stuffed it away for a later date. “May I see?”

“Of course.” She withdrew a ring of keys from her small handbag, sorted through them quickly, as if it wasn’t her first time, until she found the one she was looking for, and held the ring out to him. “I’m going to stay out here. Take your time.”

He accepted the keys, and she immediately walked toward an aged boat dock that protruded a few feet into the river. A small aluminum fishing boat with an old Evinrude outboard was moored there. Garrett gave Cowboy a signal to stay with her, and the dog silently trailed along behind. Rachel kicked her shoes off, padded to the end of the dock, sat, and hung her legs over the side just as a flock of wild geese skimmed the water and landed downriver.

The sky was a brilliant blue, and the sun warmed the otherwise cool mountain air. Garrett was tempted to forget the house and go sit beside her, but one look at the key and he knew he had to see what was waiting there. He turned away from Rachel and Cowboy, striding toward the cabin. A well-worn deck lined the front and held two oversized wooden rocking chairs under a covered porch. Three windows stared blankly back at him.

The key she’d chosen turned easily in the lock, and he pushed the door open, then hesitated. Stepping across the threshold took more fortitude than he would have imagined.

The main room was furnished meticulously in an early western motif, much as the lodge had been. A tiny kitchen nook took up one corner toward the back, and a wooden spiral staircase curled its way upward to a loft, which appeared to answer the question of sleeping arrangements. A large stone fireplace was centered along the wall to his left, and a gnarled branch, sanded and lacquered until it shone, formed the mantel. Garrett stared at the pictures lining the shelf.

He pushed the keys in his pocket and stepped closer. The first one was an image of his mother with Peg in the boat right outside. The beautiful sunny day had been eclipsed by the smile on her face. It eased some of his burden to see that she’d known happiness, but all the more he felt cheated and betrayed.

Next to that picture were several of him and Luke as toddlers, playing in a large grass-covered yard. There was also one of Rachel, younger than she was now, standing in the snow against a backdrop of trees. A knit scarf partially covered her hair and coiled around her neck, and a mysterious smile curved her lips. Her obvious sweetness tugged at his heart. He laughed quietly, realizing how ticked off she’d be if she knew he’d thought of her that way.

The next frames practically rocked him back on his heels. Because of who their father was, it had apparently been newsworthy when Garrett joined the army and again when he’d earned his Ranger tab. Same for Luke when he entered the navy. Someone—no doubt his mother—had cut those pictures from a newspaper, framed them, and set them in a place of honor on her mantel. For a few breaths, Garrett was afraid his heart would burst with pride . . . with sorrow . . . with longing for a different ending to their story. He turned away as his eyes misted and his vision blurred.

Seconds later, he was able to focus on a painting that hung on the opposite wall—an autumn mountain scene with a small herd of elk in the foreground, drinking from a clear stream. Even before he approached close enough to read the artist’s name, he knew it was hers. There were two other paintings in the main room that bore her signature as well—Amanda Williams.

He found the rest when he climbed the staircase. Leaning against the walls on both sides of the full-sized bed were dozens of his mother’s paintings. They were in various states of completion. Garrett couldn’t help wondering which one she’d been working on in the days before her death.

Okay. He was getting too sentimental. Enough for one day. Learning about Amanda’s life was the main objective. There was nothing he could change about her death or the fact she’d been ripped from his life when he was too young to stop it. He could have done something later, when he was grown . . . if he’d known. Again, he refused to allow anger to gain the upper hand.

He jogged down the stairs and headed for the door. Just inside, next to the exit, was a narrow wooden box containing board games, bats and baseballs, Frisbees, and other supplies. Rachel had said they sometimes rented it out now. These games were probably meant to occupy guests after they’d had their fill of hiking and boating. Garrett stopped and snagged a football, turning the grainy leather over in his hands.

Stepping outside, he squinted toward the dock where he’d seen Rachel last. She was still there, leaning back on her arms, letting the sun bathe her face. Her bare legs beneath her short skirt swung alternately as she dangled her feet just above the water. Looking carefree and oblivious to his presence, she presented a truly enticing picture. He’d definitely like to slide his hands through her thick and silky-looking hair, maybe grabbing a fistful so he could guide her lips to his. Imagining how soft she would feel next to him led to the beginnings of an arousal. He smiled ruefully as he shoved his daydreaming aside.

Garrett descended the porch steps and stopped, gripping the football with both hands. “Hey, Rach.”

She turned her head with a curious expression.

“Go long.” He laughed as he spiraled the ball toward her.

Rachel came to her feet in one lithe movement, her eyes on the ball. Garrett had planned for it to sail over her head, but at the last second, she jumped into the air and caught it like a pro. Her triumphant laughter carried to him, and he whooped and applauded as she landed on the dock . . . almost. One bare foot only got partial purchase on the wooden planks, and the angle of her landing knocked her off balance. She threw her arms out to catch herself, but it was too late. The
oh-shit
look on her face was priceless as she toppled over the side. Cowboy barked, ran to the edge, and looked back and forth between them.