Colorado Fire - Colorado Heart 2

Colorado Fire

The Second book in the Colorado Heart Series

By Sara York

Colorado Fire Copyright © 2013 Sara York

Cover Art by Sara York ©Copyright 2013

Electronic Edition

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of Sara York.

Warning:
This book contains material that only suitable for mature readers. Enjoy!

The following trademarked items appear in Colorado Wild. The Author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmark mention in this work of fiction:

Coke: The Coca-Cola Company

Table Of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

A word from the author

This year has taken me places I didn't expect to go. Sometimes the writing flows easily, other times, it's difficult. A couple of things conspired together and I lost a part of me that I didn't think I'd get back. That piece of myself was difficult to rebuild and there are a few people I need to thank.

Kris Jacen, you are the bomb. I love you. Thank you for being you and encouraging me. Your words made all the difference. Thanks for believing in me.

Ethan Stone, you probably will never understand what you did for me. I'll never be able to fully thank you.

Taylor Law, you are a breath of fresh air. Thank you for all you've done.

Geoff Knight, a simple thank you isn't really enough.

Robert Holland, you're the best. You mean the world to me. Don't ever lose yourself. I need you around for a long time.

And most of all, thank you Mark for keeping it real.

I think this has been one of my hardest years in a while and each of you have touched me in ways you'll never know. Thanks for the part you played in 2013. You may not know it, but you made this book possible. From the depths of my heart, I thank each of you.

Books don't happen without help and for that I need to thank Guy Le Monnier. Thank you so much for helping out when I was in a pinch. You're special, don't forget it.

Colorado Fire

Sara York

Chapter One

Grant ducked into the coffee shop, biting his tongue so he didn't let the curse words fly. His cover had been blown. Three blocks away, he'd almost run into Craig striding out of the lobby of the hotel where Grant had been staying. His ex's lips had been set in a grimace and his cheeks were pink. Craig hadn't been paying close attention or he would have seen Grant. The disguise helped. A funny looking hat and clothes more suited to an older gentleman had done the trick. At least he hoped it had. Who would have ever thought that taking up birding would save his life. Of course he wasn't really watching birds while he tooled around town, staring through his binoculars. He'd been searching for Craig, and now he'd found him. Actually Craig found Grant, which meant the guy was on the offensive and knew Grant was in the country.

He'd been so close and maybe this time he'd catch Craig, but his ex could easily run, finding a new and more devious way to hide. If Craig slipped through his fingers, Grant would never find the man again.

Grant spied a black car stopping near the hotel. Craig glanced up the street then down before opening the door, sliding into the passenger seat. Grant stepped out of the shop and hailed a taxi, asking to follow the black car Craig had entered. If Craig didn't stop soon, Grant's cover would be blown. No way in hell a taxi could follow Craig and not be caught. They'd driven four blocks when Grant's driver pulled a fast one and turned down a narrow alley and away from the main street where they'd been following Craig.

"Hey, where are you going?" Grant complained.

"The blinker, it was on," the cabbie yelled from the front seat.

"Shit," Grant cursed under his breath. They were sure to lose Craig now. Grant needed to come face to face with his ex-partner and hear from his mouth exactly what the fuck was going on. No matter how many feelings he had for Craig still buried under a layer of hurt, he needed to keep the twenty-four children who'd died in central London in the front of his mind. At the next street the cabbie spun his wheel to the left, cutting across traffic. Grant clutched the seat back in front of him and cursed again, uprighting himself as they pulled up to the light.

"Well hell." Grant ducked his head, hiding from Craig as the black car rolled past. Again they were behind Craig, keeping close as traffic slowed and blocked both lanes.

Craig's alias trail had brought him to Leeds, dropping him in the north of England, divulging no clues as to what Craig was doing. As Grant had played the roll of bumbling tourist, he'd been watching the building where Craig was supposedly held up, but it had been a bust. Tonight, he was planning on changing tactics. Of course his plans were crap now since Craig knew where he was. Everything was blown. He'd be lucky to find Craig again if the man slipped through his fingers. They all knew how to hide, concealing their activities from government officials and friends, but Craig would take it to extremes.

The black car pulled to a stop outside an auto parts store. His driver pulled past the store and turned the corner two blocks down, stopping once they were clear from Craig's view. The driver waited, staring in the rearview mirror. The man's eyes were wide and bright, his cheeks pink.

"Do you think he'll circle around?" the cabbie asked, freezing Grant in place.

Grant dropped down to the floorboard, his heart hammering as he hid from view. "Do you think he saw us?"

"No clue but—wait, here he comes."

"Act natural," Grant growled.

He waited a few seconds then smiled to himself as the cab took off again. In all of England, he'd found the one cabbie who knew how to follow someone.

"He's driving slower. Stay down."

Grant hated not being able to see what was going on, but it was better this way. Craig didn't need to know he was in the cab. They slowed after five minutes and the urge to sit up and find out what was happening almost did him in, but if Craig caught sight of him, it would all be over.

"Tell me, what is he doing?"

"He stopped five blocks up."

Grant rolled his eyes. "Holy hell, man. Are you a regular taxi driver?"

"Yes, though I used to drive in London."

"Did you pick your ability up there?"

"No, I read a lot of spy novels. I guess you could say I'm obsessed with them—movies too. Fast and Furious, The Italian Job, James Bond, Smoky and The Bandit, and my favorite, Jason Bourne. I've watched them over and over. I know how to tail someone, how to drive, how to get away."

Grant rolled his eyes, wondering how he'd gotten so lucky. This operation was driving him crazy and having a break like this saved his ass. "So tell me, what's he doing and can he see you?"

"I'm far enough back, I don't think he can see me. I'm behind a lorry and I can't really see him. I think he's out of his car and entering a building...yes, he's entering the building along with another man, the driver I think."

Grant sat up, rolling his shoulders. "How much do I owe you?"

"Thirty pounds."

Grant peeled off forty pounds from his cash and paid. He crawled out of the car and turned to the driver, thanking him again before the man drove off. Grant wasn't prepared to lead an assault on the building, so he set up down the street, glad to have his binoculars from his bird watching ruse. Time slid by slowly as he watched, wondering if this would end in another disappointment. Two hours later, Craig and two other men came out of a blue door. They faced each other for more than two minutes, appearing to talk. After shaking hands, Craig and one of the men headed to the black car and the third man walked away, moving the opposite direction from Grant.

He assumed that with Craig and his men standing around outside of the building chatting comfortably, there was no way they suspected he was watching. After five minutes, Grant strolled to the building they'd come out of and tried the door. He knocked, waiting almost a minute for someone to answer. The area was deserted, mostly storage buildings with few cars actually moving on the street. Grant glanced over his shoulder before pulling out his pick, opening the lock, and entering the building. He waited a few seconds, listening for movement. The building was quiet, making him think it was empty. Moving cautiously, Grant pulled on a pair of gloves before turning to wipe the inner doorknob. He'd wipe the outer knob once he was done and before he left the area.

The room had two tables with computers. Four file cabinets sat at the far end of the room. Six boxes were stacked beside the cabinets. A trove of information teased him. He could spend hours here, going over every slip and scrap, or search quickly for what he needed and move on to try to find Craig. Someone would eventually come back to this office. Too much evidence was in plain sight, and Craig wouldn’t leave this much to chance. Grant closed his eyes, going through the possibilities as he contemplated the best path that would get him closer to Craig.

*~*~*

Marshal didn't know if he could run one more mission. Exhaustion had set in, making even his bones ache. The need for a break clawed through him, leaving him thinking of almost nothing else when he had down time. He didn't want to tell Duff how tired he was, or that he wanted to pull back. As one of the first members on the ranch, he felt he needed to be available. With Grant still in England, Wild Bluff needed the stability of someone who knew the ropes. Roger meshed well with everyone, and Mike, Tucker, and Billy were all solid.

Then there was Zander. The guy was amazing. Marshal blew out a breath, trying like hell to keep his body from reacting. Zander's dark-brown hair and soulful eyes haunted Marshal's dreams, showing up more often than not. At first, the dreams hadn't bothered him. But one day they'd been rolling around in the yard pretending to fight as they teased each other and his cheek had brushed against Zander's scruff. Electricity zipped through him and everything changed. When Zander had rested his head on Marshal's chest, desire like nothing he'd ever felt before filled him, leaving him confused as hell.

He hadn't said anything, but Zander had to know something was up. They hadn't talked and the last three days he'd made it his mission to avoid the man. If he didn't say something to Zander soon, his friend would hunt him down and force him to spill his guts. Marshal grabbed a saddle and bridle from the tack room, then walked over to the roans stall. For some reason they'd named the horse Tammy. It had been Craig's idea. The horse knew the name though everyone wanted to change it.

"Time for a ride, Tammy." She pawed her front foot, stamping a couple of times before she dipped her head and nickered. "That's it girl, you're excited aren't you?" He loved talking to the horses. They didn't respond negatively so he could say anything. Missions he didn't like were discussed openly with the horses. He grumbled about the guys when they got on his nerves, not that it happened often, but he blew off steam and the horses listened patiently, their big brown eyes watching him as he talked. Never once had a horse told him to man up and shut his trap. Kind of like Zander. The guy always listened to him, never once complaining.

"Fuck, Tammy, this is difficult. I don't know what to do. I keep having these thoughts about Zander. It's crazy."

The horse neighed then huffed as he cinched the strap, making sure the saddle was tight. Tammy stamped her foot, almost like she wanted him to hurry along the process. "Okay, okay, I'm done. Let's go."