Rocky Mountain Lawman (8 page)

“Some answer. Did you always want to paint?”

She picked up her fork again. “This chicken is really good, Craig. Thanks. As for painting...” She looked back over the years. “I guess it’s something I’ve always done. It’s always been when I was happiest, usually. I’m not sure it was ever a conscious decision, but I know one thing—if I can’t paint, I get unhappy very quickly.”

It was, she thought as she listened to herself, a very boring story. But only on the surface, because there had been nothing boring about her tours in Iraq, and there was certainly nothing boring about working with vets who had serious problems.

But at least he didn’t press her for more detail. Boring as it all sounded, why would he?

After dinner and dishes, he suggested they sit outside for a while. The night woods seemed magical to her, with a whole different atmosphere than the daytime. The air had grown cold but she hardly cared as she stretched out on her tarp on a bed of pine needles and looked up at a sky so full of stars she could hardly believe there were so many. She had seen them before, of course, in the desert when the air was clear and there were no lights, but it was a hard thing to remember exactly, just because of the sheer volume.

“It’s so beautiful here,” she remarked. “So peaceful. It’s hard to believe anything bad could happen here.”

“Depends on what you mean by bad. Nature can be as ugly as it is beautiful.”

“So you don’t romanticize it?”

“No way. I just love it the way it is.”

She liked that attitude and figured it was probably the best one to have about most things. Of course there were exceptions, but she didn’t want to think about the ugly side of life right now. She was enjoying the stars and company too much. And that awareness she had been tamping down sprang to life again. Damn, he was close, but not close enough. “I have a friend who has one of those fancy cell phones with a GPS. She points it at any place in the sky and it will tell her what stars she’s looking at.”

She heard him stir. “Let me guess,” he said with gentle humor. “You’d rather not know the names.”

“What good would it do me? The names are artificial. The beauty isn’t.”

“Like wildflowers?”

“Exactly.” A shiver ran through her as a cold breeze snaked under her jacket.

“Want to go inside?”

“Not yet.”

“Then let me help keep you warm.”

He startled her by curling up beside her and slipping his arms around her. He did it so naturally, as if it were something they’d done before, but she froze anyway. Was he making a move? Part of her hoped he was, and part of her feared it. But already she could feel a warm tingle between her legs, feel her nipples grow firmer as if reaching for a touch. All sense seemed to be slipping away, and even the stars seemed suddenly filled with aching anticipation.

“It’s funny,” he said. “Given my job, I’m a categorizer. I have to be able to describe every damn thing in order to understand and report on what’s happening. I can’t imagine seeing things the way you do.”

So he wasn’t making a move. Disappointment washed through her, but at least it allowed her to relax, at least a little. “Labels have their uses,” she finally said. “I imagine it wouldn’t do you much good to report that something spongy and green seemed to be eating holes in trees.”

His body shook a little, probably with a silent laugh. “I think I’d get fired.” Then, “Sh. Listen.”

She heard nothing at first except the sigh of the breeze in the trees, and the hoot of a distant owl. Straining her ears, she waited, holding her breath as much as possible.

Then, from a long distance, she heard a lonely howl. “Wolf?” she whispered.

“Sh. Wait.”

Half a minute later, the howl sounded again, but this time before it finished, another joined it. Then another. Each one was differently pitched, making an incredible harmony. As she listened, she could almost hear the howls moving even farther away. Then, rather abruptly, they stopped.

“Wolves,” he said, answering her finally.

“That was so eerie, but beautiful. How many?”

“Just a few of them. When they harmonize like that, it sounds like there are more. If you wait, it shouldn’t be long before the coyotes start. They often let the wolves know they’re around, claiming territory.”

“Is it different?”

“A lot higher pitched, with yips. More like a dog than the wolves’ howls.”

She had totally relaxed into his embrace, feeling warm and secure, and now it seemed natural to turn her head a bit so that her cheek rested on his shoulder. After a while, it appeared the coyotes had no urge to stake their claim. She didn’t care, though. It suddenly seemed like staying right here forever would be a great thing to do.

A man was holding her and she wasn’t nervous. The night was quiet and soothing, and even the chilly air felt good on her cheeks. Why in the world would she ever want to leave these moments behind?

Then the brief fantasy crashed. “Better get you inside,” Craig said. “You’re going to turn into an ice cube.”

The only thing that saved her from protesting was knowing how much she would reveal. She didn’t want to be vulnerable to a man, not ever again.

She did a fairly decent job of convincing herself of that, too, as she rose and folded her tarp.

Just an interlude of watching stars and listening to wolves. Not one thing more.

Chapter 5

C
raig knew he was being a fool, especially when it had felt so good to hold Sky in his arms while stargazing, but after a night in adjacent but separate sleeping bags, he made the offer anyway.

“If you like it that much here,” he said as he got ready to head out for the day, “I can arrange for you to use the cabin for a while. As far as I know, nobody’s scheduled it for anything special.”

“Won’t that inconvenience you?”

“Me? Nah. I can share the floor when I need to.” Yeah, right. And spend half the night, as he had this past one, thinking about how good that woman had felt lying beside him in his arms. It was enough to drive Buddy and Cap out of his thoughts. Well, almost. They were still out there like some kind of toothache that was going to need more than a little aspirin before long.

“I’ve got to go to town,” he remarked. “I’ll stop at the station and clear it with them. Then if you want, I’ll bring back some food tonight. You’re welcome here.”

He watched her hesitate and wondered if she was thinking this might be as ill-advised as he was. Damn, he found her attractive, but he wasn’t all that sure she felt the same. She’d also told him she was recovering from a recent breakup, so she was fragile in more than one way. If he had a brain in his head, rather than his groin, he’d stay clean away.

Half of him hoped she’d turn him down. Best to cut the link between them before it got tangled in knots and it became a real mess when she went home. That was a sensible idea but he was almost holding his breath anyway.

“I’d like that,” she said finally. She gave him one of her rare smiles, one that lit up her face and seemed to light the world around her. “It’s great out here. But only if you’re sure I won’t be in the way.”

In one sense she was going to be in the way until she left the state. In another, she wouldn’t be a problem at all. He’d managed to build a life where he didn’t experience a lot of internal conflict, but here he was, diving in head first. Genius.

“It’s cool,” he said. “Besides, you’re determined to come out here every day anyway. Might as well save the gas. I’ll just get enough food and ice for a few days.”

As easy as that, it was settled. Well, having her stay there was settled easily. Actually dealing with it was apt to be something else. Maybe he needed to take a look inside his own head and figure out where he’d slipped a cog. Of course, he could always camp out in the open, the way he usually preferred.

As he bumped down the service road with Sky in his wake because she wanted to do laundry and pick up a few things, it occurred to him that after having invited her to stay at the cabin, she might be offended if he took to sleeping under the stars.

Crap, he’d blown it all to hell. He’d failed to keep a safe distance, and now he’d put himself in a position where he might hurt someone unintentionally. Bright, Craig, very bright.

For the second day running, returning to downtown Conard City made Sky uneasy. She told herself to relax, that what had happened to her sitting in the square two days ago wasn’t likely to happen again. And it wasn’t.

But the uneasiness lingered. She tried not to look at the blank windows or notice the closed doors as she hurried about her errands. She even tried to think about her encounter with Buddy, and how she had probably overreacted, and how unlikely it was that he’d try something again, no matter what he was up to.

Sometimes letting people know about incidents like that provided a measure of protection. If anything happened to her, she knew the first place they’d look. And thanks to Craig, now so did Buddy.

The Laundromat was quiet that morning and she was able to wash all her clothes rapidly while she read a book. Unfortunately, as she folded her things, she noted again that everything carried the marks of her art. Everything.

She sighed, stuffed it all back into her suitcase and car, then headed down the street to the department store. Freitag’s Mercantile. The name spoke of another era, and she liked it.

Unfortunately, while she had assumed when leaving Tampa that she wouldn’t need much in the way of warm clothing—it was summer after all—apparently folks in this part of the world believed it was summer, too, which meant there wasn’t a whole lot of warm stuff to look at. And she definitely needed warm if she was going to spend her nights in the forest.

A nice clerk named Glynda offered to help her, and Sky explained her problem.

“Thin blood?” Glynda’s brown eyes twinkled. “Every so often we get someone from your part of the world. It doesn’t help to tell them it’s actually warm.”

“For you, maybe,” Sky joked.

Glynda laughed. “But I do have solutions. Layering. We’ve got some nice summer-weight sweaters, plenty of long pants, a few sweat suits...”

Sky might have splurged except she knew darn well that everything was going to have paint on it before this trip was over. Most of it, anyway. So she settled on some extra jeans, a sweat suit for wear in the evenings and a couple of those sweaters. Glynda even found her a warmer jacket. She hesitated, then reminded herself that she could probably wear it for a week or two in the winter and it would last forever. As long as she didn’t paint in it.

With that done, she drove to the grocery at the edge of town, got more ice for her cooler, some reasonably healthy snack foods that shouldn’t spoil and even some spices to use if she cooked. There was roughing it and there was roughing it. She’d had enough of the roughest of it in the army. These days she appreciated every creature comfort, however minor.

She stopped in at the station and Lucy gave her a key for the cabin. “Enjoy it,” Lucy said cheerfully. “Nobody seems to want it any time in the next month, so have at it.”

“Thanks.”

Lucy leaned over the counter a bit. “Just be careful,” she said more seriously. “Craig seems to think Buddy is just a harmless nut, but I’m not so sure.”

Sky felt apprehension run along her nerves. “Any particular reason?”

Lucy hesitated, then shook her head. “Sorry, no. It’s just a feeling. I guess I got worried when I heard he’d bothered you. Buddy never used to do things like that.”

“So Craig says.”

“And he’s probably right. He deals more with the guy than I do. But just watch yourself anyway. Craig’s still in town as far as I know, and I don’t know when he’ll be back. You’ve still got the radio he gave you, right?”

“Yes.” And she’d better remember to turn it on this time.

“I monitor all channels, so you won’t exactly be alone out there.” Lucy smiled again.

And with that pleasant thought, Sky headed out toward the cabin to unload and then decide if she wanted to paint or do something else with the day. She was, she realized suddenly, free to do anything she wanted. It was a vacation.

Funny how that idea was only beginning to penetrate.

She’d managed to make most of her trip without thinking about Craig too much, but when she got to the cabin there was no avoiding it any longer. Her mind’s eye kept throwing up images of him as she unloaded and carried everything into the cabin. Handsome. Well, okay, better than handsome because he managed to look really good without being at all pretty, or making her think he should be a movie star.

But more important was kindness. Reminding herself that anyone could be nice for short periods didn’t help. He was nice. There was something about him that said he was a man comfortable with himself and with caring about others. Very different from her ex. Hector had seemed uncomfortable with strong emotions other than anger, and, like a lot of guys, poked fun at anything that might elicit tender feelings or tears. Guy-tough. Craig didn’t seem to have a problem with that, but truthfully, how well did she know him?

After a sandwich she made from some bread and cold cuts she’d bought, she decided to return to her hilltop and paint. Besides, she had offered to be extra eyes for Craig, and so far today she hadn’t done it.

She considered walking back down the road to the place she usually parked, then decided against it. If she needed for some reason to move fast, she didn’t want her wheels to be nearly a mile away. And this time she remembered to turn on the radio.

She reached her hillside and quickly spread out her supplies and put her canvas on the easel. Today she wasted no time, but squeezed paint onto her palette and set to work. She needed to lose herself in her art, a good kind of getting lost within herself, and forget everything else. Most especially Craig. Heck, he probably wouldn’t even show up today. From what she’d gathered, he didn’t spend every night at that cabin and he had to cover a lot of territory. Buddy notwithstanding, his concern about the valley stream down below might take him quite a distance away.

In terms of immediate threats, and the size of those threats, she figured the stream was probably a top priority.

Pretty soon she was pleased with the way she had captured an impression of those wildflowers on the mountainside, surrounded by the deep green and shadows of the forest. Leaning back, she thought she’d done a good job of making the flowers appear to glow with a light of their own, creating a sense of mystery.

Feeling content, and realizing she was starting to lose the light, she began soaking her brushes and packing them away.

Then, on impulse, she picked up her camera and looked across the valley at Buddy’s place. What she saw made her gasp.

She snapped a quick picture, scanned the valley with outward casualness because all of a sudden she had the worst feeling she was being watched. She snapped a few more photos, then began packing. She didn’t want to walk through the woods alone, but there was no other choice. As she hefted her gear, she tried to arrange it so she could use at least some of it in self-defense. She could see no one around anywhere, hadn’t heard anything, but that didn’t matter.

No amount of evidence to the contrary could dispel the feeling that she was being watched, and that was one feeling she’d learned not to ignore in Iraq.

God, she didn’t want to use the radio. Anybody might be listening. She just hoped Craig showed up.

* * *

Craig’s visit to Sheriff Gage Dalton proved illuminating.

“Buddy seemed normal enough,” Gage said, “but I didn’t like that Cap guy.”

“Exactly my reaction.”

“I liked it even less when Buddy gave me a little tour. He’s proud of what he’s accomplishing in self-sufficiency, but you know that. Unfortunately when he was walking me around his garden, I saw some other things.”

Craig leaned forward, his interest surging. “Such as?”

“He’s bringing in an awful lot of supplies. Some trucks were coming toward me as I drove out there, and I could clearly see they came from Buddy’s. There’s nothing else up that road anyway, except for the ghost town, and that’s pretty much off-limits.

“Anyway, he’s filling up his barn, to judge by what I could see through a crack where a door wasn’t completely closed. And then there are the footprints.”

“Footprints?”

“I figure there are at least four other grown men out there in addition to Buddy and Cap. No evidence of women or children, though, other than Buddy’s.”

“How’d that strike you?”

“Probably about the same way it’s striking you. Why would he need more men out there? He’s been all about his family surviving a catastrophe. If he wanted another family out there, that would fit with what I thought I knew about him, but four men? That Cap guy in particular. I managed to get a photo of him I’m going to run through recognition software, but that might take ages.”

Craig frowned, feeling his uneasiness about Buddy deepening. Worse, he felt a leap of concern for Sky. She was out there alone today. Not good, considering Buddy had already confronted her. The small comfort that came from knowing that Buddy was aware that others had heard about the confrontation grew smaller with each word that Gage spoke.

“Militia?” he said finally, hating the word.

“Possibly. I don’t have enough to say anything for sure except I’d feel a whole lot better if I saw another
family
out there, not a bunch of men.”

“I didn’t like being greeted with an AR-15.”

Gage nodded. “That’s not typical either. I’ve known Buddy a lot longer than you have, and while I’ve always thought him to be a character—and Lord knows we’ve got enough characters in this county—I always counted him as harmless. I figured that if Buddy ever became a problem, it would be because the world was blowing up. Now I’m wondering if he’s being used by someone with plans.”

“Action type plans?”

Again Gage nodded. “Buddy’s prey to conspiracy theories. Give him the right one, and you could manipulate him easily enough.”

“Well, then, we don’t want to do anything that might make him easy to manipulate. Make him think the government is after him. This is going to make watching him fun.”

“I’m tempted to call a friend in ATF, but we don’t have a thing to give him yet that would get him out here.”

“Plus, if Buddy or his friend note that a lot of strangers are hovering around in the woods, it could make things harder.” Craig sighed and stood up. “Okay. I’ve already made the excuse of needing to find out if some of the streams are blocked. That’s how I saw that damn watchtower out there. But right now I’m concerned. The painter lady is out there by herself, and Buddy already confronted her once. I need to get back.”

“Just watch your own back, too. I didn’t like the feeling I was getting when I was out there.” Gage shook his head. “I probably don’t need to tell you, but when I was in DEA I learned never to ignore those feelings that something wasn’t right. I’ve had that feeling ever since I talked to Buddy.”

By the time Craig finished the food shopping he had promised to do, he was appalled at the amount of time that had passed. Despite his urge to get back to Sky as quickly as possible, somehow the hours had advanced, and now he still had a one-hour drive to reach the cabin.

His problem, he thought, as he drove as fast as he could back to the forest, was that he didn’t have much of an internal clock anymore. His days were guided by the sun, not a wristwatch, and in town, farther away from the mountains, twilight came later. Once in the mountains, it fell fast because the sun generally vanished behind the peaks by about three. Down here, the lengthening shadows were a useless guide to him.