Read Lone Rider Online

Authors: B.J. Daniels

Lone Rider (19 page)

“Let's not make this personal,” Jace said.

“Not make it personal?”
she cried. At least her anger had held off her tears. He could be thankful for that, he told himself. He needed her to hold it together so he could get her off this mountain.

“Why did you really come after me?” she demanded. “To rub my face in it? You actually thought I had absconded with the money and had met some...man up here, didn't you?”

He couldn't deny it. “Right now all I care about is getting you out of these mountains alive so—”

“So I can go to prison.”

He met her gaze. “Bo—”

She shook her head and, turning on her heel, started down the trail as if she wasn't tired, her feet didn't hurt and she hadn't been running on fear for days now.

Jace smiled to himself at the stiff set of her spine, the angry tilt of her head, the agitated swinging of her arms as he followed, leading the horse. It wasn't as though she was ever going to talk to him after this anyway.

CHAPTER TWENTY

T
HE
STORM
MOVED
in fast. Dark clouds obliterated the sun, wind whipped the tall pines and the temperature dropped. Frank knew the rain and probably snow weren't far behind.

Once the storm hit, it would be foolhardy to continue. He anticipated the senator putting up a fight. Not that he could blame him. If it was his daughter up here lost in the mountains... He thought of Tiffany and quickly pushed the image away.

Tiffany had only pretended to be his daughter as part of a sick plot by his ex-wife to hurt him. Too bad Pam was dead. She would have been glad to know that it had worked. Even when his ex had “programmed” her daughter to not only hate him, but also to come to Beartooth and try to kill him, he'd still wanted to help the girl. It wasn't until he learned all of it had been a lie that he'd felt a moment of intense pain, then a sense of freedom. Neither Tiffany nor her dead mother could hurt him anymore. That was, as long as Tiffany was in the mental institution. If she ever got out—

The first drops of rain splattered in the dust next to him. He'd already put on his slicker and was debating how much farther they dared go given that they would have a long ride back to the ranch yet to face before this day was over.

He'd heard on his two-way radio that the two helicopters that had been scheduled to fly the area farther to the north had both been grounded because of the fierce winds coming off the peaks. Now, with the storm...

Another trail joined the one they were on. Frank noticed horseshoe prints in the dust as the rain began to fall harder. Past the tracks, he saw the body. It lay in a small gully not far off the adjoining trail from the Shields River side of the Crazies.

He reined in, recognizing the red-and-black-plaid wool coat. Outfitter John Cole. John had said he would be riding back in from the Shields River side of the mountains.

“Stay here,” Frank ordered the others as he climbed down and moved through the pines to the body. John had been shot once in the head with what appeared to be a high-powered rifle.

Frank had told him to be careful since they both knew that Raymond Spencer could be up here in these mountains. Whoever had shot him must have seen him working his way up the trail, waited and either had taken a lucky shot—or had been a crack-shot sniper in another life. He was reminded that Raymond Jay Spencer Sr., or RayJay as he was known, had served as a sniper in the armed forces. Did that mean he was up here, as well?

The rain began to fall harder. As Frank climbed back up the hillside to his horse, he tried to radio in to his office, but the storm made the call break up.

“Who is it?” the senator asked. “It isn't—”

“No. It's John Cole. He's an outfitter with a camp up here.” He didn't mention that John's low camp had been broken into or that John had suspected it might be the younger Raymond Spencer who'd been on the run for three weeks now.

“He's dead?” one of the ranch hands asked.

Frank nodded. “We need to turn back.” The senator started to argue. “John was shot. Whoever killed him is probably still up in these mountains. That person could be trying to get a bead on one of us right now.”

The ranch hands looked around, suddenly nervous.

“My daughter is up here,” Buckmaster said with a curse. “I can't turn back now.”

“We have no idea where Bo is except that from what the pilot told us, Jace Calder had been tracking her and she was at least another day's ride back into these mountains. We need to wait and get the choppers in the air. She will hole up somewhere out of the storm, so even if we were close to where she is, we wouldn't be able to find her in this storm.”

“You're assuming she is
able
to hole up,” the senator said, his voice breaking.

“There is nothing we can do. We have to go back.” Frank tried his radio again and got through. “Let the sheriff know over in Park County. John Cole has been murdered, the suspect or suspects still at large. They'll find his body shortly after the Shields River trail connects with the Sweet Grass Creek Trail up from the Hamilton Ranch. We're headed back.”

* * *

B
O
STOPPED
,
HER
heart leaping to her throat. “Do you hear that?”

Jace, suddenly on alert, stopped, as well. “What did you hear?” he whispered, moving up beside her.

She strained to pick up the sound again, but all she could hear was the wind in the tops of the pine boughs. Was that all it had been? She'd been so sure. “I thought I heard a helicopter.” She shook her head. It had been her imagination. Just like earlier when she would have sworn she heard one in the distance.

“Come on,” he said and motioned for her to get moving again.

She had seen the dark clouds building over the tops of the peaks and felt the temperature dropping only moments before the rain began to fall. Wind whipped the huge drops, stinging her face. She could hardly see where she was going.

Jace had given her his yellow slicker to wear, insisting also that she lead the way. She knew he expected Ray and his father to catch up to them now. It was only a matter of time. She labored through the drowning rain in the too-large coat. Each step took all her strength. She'd never walked so far in her life. Once she got back to the ranch...

What if she never saw the ranch or her family again? The thought broke her heart. What if Ray and his father caught up with them? She shuddered, thinking of what they would do to her—not to mention Jace. Jace, the man who had come all the way up here after her.

Not to save her, she reminded herself. Yet he
had
saved her, at least temporarily. Now if Ray and his father caught up to them, they would kill Jace, and it would be her fault. If she hadn't come up here, Jace would be safe on his ranch back down in the valley. She couldn't bear the thought of getting him killed.

She stumbled on an exposed root in the middle of the trail, then slipped. Jace grabbed her before she fell into the mud. She looked at him, surprised. “I thought you would enjoy seeing me floundering in the mud.”

“You're wrong. I'm trying to keep anything else from happening to you.”

Icy-cold rain poured over her as she stood looking into his handsome face. She'd been in love with this man most of her life, she realized. But the timing had always been wrong. “I really wanted to go to senior prom with you.”

He shook his head, rain running off the brim of his hat. “You really want to bring up senior prom
now
?”

“Why not?”

“Because that was fourteen years ago, and we're standing in pouring rain on a mountaintop with two killers after us.”

She looked into his blue eyes and felt a sharp pang of hurt. “It isn't just senior prom. It's...” She waved a hand through the air. “It's...” Tears welled in her eyes.

“Bo, we have to get moving,” he said quietly.

She shook her head. “I can't go on.” Everything she'd been through suddenly fell on her, crushing her spirit. She dropped to the ground, too discouraged and exhausted to walk any farther, too sick at heart knowing that not only would she never get out of these mountains, but also neither would Jace. “Leave me and go for help.”

“Do you really think I would do that?” he demanded as he knelt down beside her.

“Why not? I'm that pampered rich girl who knows nothing about real life. Isn't that what you once told me? A spoiled brat whose biggest problem is how to spend my father's money. So leave me. I deserve whatever happens to me, right? Oh, I forgot, you're determined to take me back and make me face up to my mistakes.”

“Bo.” The tenderness in his voice was her undoing.

Her chest ached as she began to sob. “I'm serious. Leave me here. Go for help. If you don't...” She let out a cry of pain. “I'm going to get you killed.”

“Have faith in me,” he said as he held out his hand. “Here, let me help you to your feet.”

She shook her head, refusing to take his hand. “I can't walk another step.”

“All right. We'll rest for a while, but not here. Come on,” he said, taking her arm and pulling her up. “You can make it as far as those cliffs.”

He led her up into the rocks where one cantilevered out over the mountainside offering them some shelter from the storm. Also, it would allow him to build a fire without any fear of the Spencers seeing the smoke.

After seeing to his horse, he built a small fire under the rock where the ground was dry and so was the kindling. Then he helped her peel off her wet clothing before wrapping her in the sleeping bag and tucking her next to the fire.

She let him, too tired to argue.

“Try to get some sleep.”

“What about you?” she asked as she huddled in the bag and fought to stop trembling.

“I'll stand guard.”

She looked out toward the darkness and the driving rain. “
You
should get some sleep.”

He shook his head. “I'm fine.”

“You don't think I can handle it?” she said, turning to look at him.

“No, offense, but no.” She started to argue, but he cut her off. “Unless you've killed someone lately and I don't know about it?” He nodded. “I didn't think so. If I let you stand guard and the Spencers showed up, you would hesitate, and they would kill you before you could—”

“I get the picture.”

“Don't feel bad. Some people think they could kill another person if they had to. Most of them couldn't pull the trigger even against men like these.”

She thought about Ray and shuddered. “You might be surprised. Remember? I was with him for two days.”

He met her gaze. “I'm sorry.”

“I am, too.” She sunk deeper into the sleeping bag at the memory. “He had this idea that if he gave me a little time, I'd like him and want to stay with him. That's the only thing that saved me.”

Jace looked away for a moment. “I can't imagine what you've been through.” She heard the catch in his voice.

She could tell that he wanted to remain angry with her for taking off, for getting into this mess, for forcing him to become involved, for hurting him five years ago.

“Get some sleep,” he said. “We leave again in a few hours.”

She looked out past the flames and saw only rain and mist.

“I'm worried about you,” Bo said. “I know you have to be exhausted, too.”

He reached over to take the pistol from her coat pocket and hand it to her. “In case I fall asleep.”

“That's supposed to relieve my mind?”

“Don't worry. I'm not going to let anyone take you without a fight. If that relieves your mind...”

She watched him gather more dry twigs from under the rocks and toss them on the fire. The firelight played on his handsome face.

Her eyelids grew heavy. She felt as if she was finally starting to warm up. “Do you think they're both after us now?”

“Yes.”

It was too much to hope that the single gunshot they'd heard was one of them killing the other one. “Maybe the father talked some sense into him and they aren't coming after us.”

Jace didn't comment. Who was she kidding? Ray was relentless. He'd walk all day and night if that's what it took—even wounded. Add to that a father who not only encouraged his son to live in these mountains off the grid but also was bringing him horses and supplies.

She let her eyes close. “We never got to dance.”

He let out a soft chuckle. “I probably would have stepped on your toes.”

She smiled to herself as she forced open her eyes to look at him. He sat next to the fire staring out at the falling rain, his rifle cradled in his arms. He was smiling. She closed her eyes, unable to keep them open any longer. She was safe. Jace would keep her that way or die trying.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

T
HE
RAIN
CHANGED
to snow so quickly that Jace didn't realize the temperature had dropped until he felt the first snowflake land on his cheek. He'd retrieved his horse, hating that he had to awaken Bo after a couple of hours, but they had to keep moving. He'd dried out her clothing as much as he could by the fire and then woke her.

They'd covered more ground. He hoped they were putting distance between them and the two men he believed were after them. But then the snow had begun to fall in huge lacy flakes that would soon obliterate everything.

“We need to find shelter,” he said to Bo now as snowflakes began to whirl around them.

“But if we don't keep moving—”

“We won't be able to see anything in a few minutes. Come on.” He headed for another band of rock towering over them. He could barely make out what appeared to be a cave-like hole in the cliff as snow began to fall harder.

The grass and rocks were already slick from the rain, making climbing difficult. Behind him, he heard Bo struggling to stay on her feet. He reached back and took her hand, pulling her up onto a rock shelf.

“We'll get back in here,” he said. The cave was narrow, but as they slipped through the crevice, it opened into a larger space. The ground was dry back in there. He looked up to see a large rock wedged in between two larger rocks high above them. Only a small slice of white sky could be seen. “We should be able to stay dry in here and have a fire.”

He opened the pack and pulled out the sleeping bag. It felt cold but not wet. He spread it out along with the rest of their dwindling supplies and tried not to think about what they would do when they ran out. He'd have to kill something and cook it. Which would have been fine if they hadn't had the Spencers after them.

Kneeling, he began to rake up leaves and twigs to build a fire. He wouldn't think the worst. Senator Buckmaster Hamilton would be moving heaven and earth by now to find his daughter. There were people looking for them. The storm was supposed to let up by morning. The searchers would be able to see their tracks in the snow. But so would Ray and his father. If they were both alive. If they were both still trailing them.

The crackling of the flames and the flicker of the golden light on the rock walls almost made it feel warm and cozy inside the small cave. He watched the smoke curl up and disappear through the crack overhead into a sky the same color as the smoke. No one could see it in the storm raging outside.

He turned to look at Bo. She stood hugging herself at the narrow entrance, her back to him. Past her, he could see that a blizzard had blown into the mountains. Late June in Montana, he thought with a sigh.

“Are we ever getting out of these mountains?” she asked without turning to look at him.

He moved up behind her and put his arms around her. She leaned back against him. Her hair glistened with melting snow. She felt small in his arms.

“We're going to get out of here,” he whispered as he slowly turned her to face him. “Do you trust me?”

She raised her head to meet his eyes and held his gaze for a long moment. “With my life.”

He smiled at that.

“I'm so sor—” Her voice broke.

Jace kissed her as her green eyes swam with tears. She softened against him, melting into his arms, into his kiss. Her arms encircled his neck as he picked her up and carried her deeper into the darkness of the rocks to the outstretched sleeping bag.

He could tell she was exhausted but fighting it. Her strength and determination continued to amaze him. He peeled off her wet clothing. But as he started to lower her onto the sleeping bag, she pulled him down with her.

“Jace.”

He heard the plea in her voice and saw a raw need in her gaze. His own need was like a storm inside him. He lay down beside her and stroked her wet hair back from her face. Her green eyes were huge. She was pale in the firelight, her freckles golden. She looked so vulnerable.

“Please, Jace,” she whispered as she reached to unzip his coat.

He caught her hand in his. “You've been through an ordeal. I know you aren't thinking clearly. And I would use this situation to be with you, but you have to know that if you and I ever make love again, it has to be for the right reasons.”

“We might be dead before daylight.”

He put his finger to her lips. “We're going to survive this and then you're going to regret—”

“My only regret is losing you.” Emotion made her voice hoarse. “Jace, I was such a fool five years ago. I was...scared. I wasn't—”

“You weren't ready for marriage.”

“No. I needed to do something with my life, to prove to myself that I had...value.”

“Value?”

“I didn't want to be that spoiled little rich girl. I wanted to be my own woman, prove that I could...” She shook her head. “That's why I wanted to run the foundation, and look what a mess I've made of that.”

“That's not true. Emily's told me about all the businesses you've helped start and others you've helped through hard times.”

Bo didn't seem to hear him. “But the worst part is that I messed up things with you. By the time I felt ready, you were gone. You were so hurt and angry and...” She locked eyes with him in the firelight. “I knew I'd lost you, and it broke my heart.”

He smiled ruefully. He'd never believed in fate, but here they were. As crazy as the circumstances were, they'd been given another chance. He had no idea what tomorrow would bring. All they had was tonight. “I never stopped loving you. I damn sure tried, but, Bo, there is no one like you.”

She smiled through her tears as he pulled her to him.

“Promise me that we can put the past behind us when we get off this mountain,” she said, drawing back to meet his eyes. “That we can start over, no regrets?”

If they got out of the mountains alive. “I promise.”

“And we can make love in a real bed, promise?”

He chuckled. “In a warm, soft bed. I promise.”

* * *

B
O
HAD
DREAMED
of being in Jace's arms again, but she'd given up hope of it ever happening. She unzipped his coat and helped him shrug out of his wet clothing. He joined her on the sleeping bag in front of the fire. Wrapping her arms around his hard body, she smiled as he met her gaze.

His kiss sent desire racing through her like flames. She felt his hand cup her breast, the nipple springing up hard as a pebble. He drew back to slide down to take first one hard nipple in his mouth, then the other.

She arched against him, sensations rippling along her skin as hot as the fire blazing next to them. He pressed kisses along her naked flesh, leaving a trail of heat before he reached her center.

“Oh, Jace,” she breathed as he kissed the most intimate part of her. His tongue licked at her, making her cry out as she rose higher and higher, quaking with the release that had her clutching at Jace.

He slid his body along hers, coming back to kiss her now achingly hard nipples before reaching her mouth. As he entered her, she felt as if everything in the world had suddenly righted itself.

She clung to him as he made love to her, taking her to places she'd never been, as the fire crackled and the storm raged beyond the rocks. Wrapped in Jace's arms, Bo closed her eyes and prayed for a miracle.

* * *

S
ARAH
COULDN
'
T
SLEEP
. For several hours she had lain awake, listening to the rain. She finally got up and went into the cabin's small kitchen to make herself some warm milk. She used to make warm milk for one of her children who couldn't sleep. Ainsley? Or was it Kat or Bo? That she couldn't remember broke her heart. It felt like a lifetime ago.

She'd missed so much of her daughters' lives. There was no way to catch up. She couldn't blame them, though. She was a stranger. Worse, she was responsible for them now all hiding out from the press. She shouldn't have come back. Why had she?

When she thought about what the sheriff had said—that she was dropped from a plane, parachuted into a spot far from everything and wandered through the woods until she hit the road—and Russell Murdock almost hit her with his pickup, it scared her more than she wanted to admit. How was it that she couldn't remember it, if true? Or had someone just wanted him to believe that's how she'd returned?

Wasn't it possible for someone to set the whole thing up—including putting some of her DNA and blood on the parachute harness?

She let out a laugh. She was starting to sound like Russell with all his conspiracy theories.

But if true, then it made no sense, no matter how many times she went over it. Why wouldn't she have been able to remember jumping from a plane? That didn't sound like something she would forget—unless she'd done it so many times before...

Her milk began to scorch. She quickly pulled it off the burner, no longer interested in warm milk. Instead, she took the nearly empty bottle of wine that Russell had brought to go with dinner and poured the last of it into a glass. Wine in hand, she moved to the couch. The copy of the photo he'd taken of her tattoo was lying on the table next to the couch's armrest.

Picking it up, she stared at the pendulum design. Needless to say, she had no memory of ever getting a tattoo, especially such a strange one. Everything about the past terrified her. Lately, she'd been getting more...flashes. She couldn't call them memories. What had happened to her? How had she ended up like this?

Russell was so sure that Buckmaster was behind it—

Her cell phone rang, making her jump. She pulled it out, expecting the call to be from Russell. He often checked on her to make sure she was all right, but usually not this late.

It was Buck. That was even odder at this hour.

“Hello?” she asked tentatively.

“For some reason I thought you might be awake, too,” he said. His voice was soft as if he didn't want to awaken anyone in the house. As far as she knew, the only other person in the ranch house was Angelina, his wife.

“Why can't
you
sleep?” she asked.

“Bo is still missing in the Crazies.” His voice broke with emotion. “I thought you might have seen it on the news.”

“What? Bo is still missing? You were so sure when we talked before that she would be back by now.”

“A snowstorm in the mountains stopped search efforts and would have kept her from getting out, as well. As soon as the weather breaks, we're going back up to look for her.”

“Oh, Buck, she has to be all right.”

“She's smart, and Jace Calder went up looking for her. If he found her... I just hope they're together at least. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you, but—”

“She's my daughter, too.”

They were both silent for a long while.

“I miss you, Sarah.”

His words made her heart ache. “I miss you, too.”

“I wish there was some way—”

“There isn't. Even if you weren't with Angelina...”

More silence.

“I didn't mean to call and upset you. I should let you go.”

“Please, call me when you find her.”

“I will. We'll find her. I can't lose her. I've already lost so much.”

She disconnected and sat holding the phone to her chest. No matter what Russell said, Buck couldn't be the monster he believed him to be. That would mean she was in love with a monster who'd taken away twenty-two years of her life.

* * *

T
HE
SNOW
IN
the mountains had changed everything. Frank swore as he listened on the phone to the head of search and rescue describing the conditions they'd run into on the other side of the Crazies.

“The terrain is too dangerous,” Jim Martin said. “Even experienced ground crews found many areas too difficult to traverse with the snow.”

“What about the searchers in the helicopters?”

“They should be able to see tracks in the snow once the clouds lift.” Jim didn't sound optimistic. “The storm isn't moving on as fast as the weatherman predicted.”

Helicopters were standing by.

“We had search dogs, horse teams and hikers up there but had to bring them all back when the weather turned,” Jim was saying. “All trailheads were monitored overnight in case they tried to come out a different way. The helicopter used thermal imaging technology until almost midnight when the weather got too rough.”

Frank knew everyone was doing what they could given the conditions. Improved weather in the next day or so would allow an expanded search, but could Bo and Jace wait that long?

“I've already spoken to the media and told them that, due to the dangerous conditions up there, we can't use any volunteers for the search at this time,” Jim said.

Not to mention there was at least one killer up in those mountains, Frank thought. He'd never felt more helpless, but until the weather broke...

He'd been fielding calls all evening, ever since the media had picked up the news. Senator Buckmaster Hamilton's daughter missing in the mountains of Montana was hot news—especially since Sarah Hamilton's return from the dead was now becoming old news. Everyone had written her off as a head case. Everyone but Frank.

It had been a long day. He couldn't wait to get home to his wife, already anticipating the beef roast she'd said she was cooking—along with a cold beer. He hadn't realized how late it was, though. The way things were going, he'd never get out of here tonight.

When he looked up from his desk, he was surprised to find Russell Murdock framed in the doorway.

“I saw your rig parked outside. I know it's late and you're busy with trying to find Bo Hamilton...”

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