The Rivals (3 page)

She handed him a gray wool blanket and said, “Wrap yourself in this. I'll be back in no time.”

Once back down the hill, she checked to make sure his pickup was still in neutral, that the brake was off, and that the mini-J-hooks were attached properly. Then she headed back to the tow truck to take up the slack.

She took her time getting the truck up the hill, moving back and forth between the pickup and the winch, making sure the wheels were headed in the right direction, so the truck came up clean and easy. Once the pickup was secure for the tow back into town, she removed her waders and stowed them.

Within fifteen minutes she was back in the cab expecting to find the cowboy warmed up. She was troubled to see that his eyes were closed. “Hey, are you all right?”

His eyes blinked open and he scooted upright.

“Sorry to fall asleep like that. I had a late night last night.”

“You shouldn't be driving when you're tired. That's what causes accidents.”

“It wasn't my—”

“I know,” she interrupted. “It wasn't your fault. At least you were wearing your seat belt. You might have been killed, taking a flying leap off the road like that.” She reached over to peer into his eyes, her flashlight angled slightly away to keep from blinding him. His eyes were blue. An astonishing blue. The sort of blue that made you want to keep on looking.

He looked right back at her. And grinned. “Last time a woman looked that intently into my eyes, she—”

Sarah flushed and backed away, shutting off the flashlight, buckling herself in and putting the tow truck in gear. “Spare me the details. Where do you want me to drop you and your pickup off?”

“You can leave the pickup at the Jackson Hole Garage. I could use a ride to my ranch, if you don't mind.”

Sarah didn't usually provide cab service, but it was late and he was wet, half-naked and hurt. He might very well collapse or get frostbite before a cab finally showed up at the garage to take him home.

“Where's your ranch?” she said, eyeing him curiously. She knew most of the ranchers around town, and she didn't know this man. The way he'd been dressed, in a plaid wool shirt, worn jeans, and boots, she'd figured him more for a cowhand than an owner. “Is there someone who can take care of you overnight? You shouldn't be alone. You might have a concussion.”

He cocked another brow at her. “There's nobody at the main house right now except me.”

“Where is that?” Sarah asked.

“Forgotten Valley.”

Sarah turned to stare at him. “Forgotten Valley is owned by a couple of guys from Texas.”

“Drew DeWitt, at your service, ma'am.”

Sarah frowned. “I didn't think the owners lived there.”

“I moved back in December.”

“Moved back?” Sarah said skeptically. “I didn't realize you'd ever—”

“Moved in,” Drew corrected. “Quit my job in Houston and moved here to…” He paused and said, “That's another story.”

“I've got time. It's a long ride back to Jackson.”

Drew shrugged. “I needed a change of scenery.”

“You could afford to quit your job?”

He shrugged again. “It was only a job.”

“Your work wasn't important? What did you do?”

“I was a litigator with DeWitt & Blackthorne.”

“A lawyer? I can see why you wanted to get away,” Sarah said. As a policeman who caught the bad guys, she was leery of the lawyers who got them off. “What is it you plan to do now that you're here in Jackson?”

“I haven't decided.”

“I suppose if I'd quit my profession and moved a couple thousand miles away, I'd need more than six weeks to figure out what to do with the rest of my life, too. Just don't do your thinking on the highway,” she said. “That way you're more likely to stay among the living long enough to come up with another life plan.”

“I was forced off the road,” he said.

Sarah frowned. “Where's the other vehicle? Didn't the driver stop? Do I need to be looking for another reckless driver out there somewhere?”

“It was a friend of mine—and no, I'm not going to tell you who it was,” Drew said. “It was an accident. No one was hurt—”

“That bump on your head should be looked at by a doctor,” Sarah interrupted.

“I'm not going to a doctor,” Drew said firmly.

“Have you got someone to stay with you overnight, just in case?” Sarah asked. “A girlfriend? A wife? A friend? You shouldn't be alone.”

“I'm not married. And I don't have a girlfriend…anymore,” he said bitterly.

“Ah,” Sarah said, eyeing him speculatively. “So you came here to nurse a broken heart.”

He didn't say anything, which Sarah took as a confirmation of her guess. She figured he must really have loved the woman to have quit his job and moved away when the relationship ended. “She dumped you?” Sarah asked.

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“She dumped you,” Sarah concluded. “What did you do to her?”

“I didn't do anything. She—Look,” he said, “this is none of your business.”

“It became my business when you let yourself get distracted and drove off the road.”

“I told you—”

“I know. It wasn't your fault. A mystery woman drove you off the road. That woman wouldn't have been the one you broke up with in Houston, would it? You let yourself get distracted by thoughts of her and—”

“I wasn't thinking of Grayson Choate. She never crosses my mind. I'm over her,” Drew insisted. “Your job is to drive, not to interrogate me.”

“Well, actually…” Sarah hesitated, then said, “I'm a detective with the sheriff's office. I only showed up to hook this wreck because…I'm helping someone out.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Drew slowly run his eyes down her body. She shivered, as though he'd touched her with his hands.

“Well, well, well,” he said. “So you're the law in Teton County.”

“One of many deputy sheriffs.”

He turned to face her and said, “Are you going to write me a ticket?”

“For what? Being in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

His gaze stayed on her as he said, “Or maybe being in the right place at the right time. I met you, didn't I?”

Sarah frowned. She hadn't been flirted with in so long, she wasn't quite sure Drew DeWitt was actually showing that sort of interest in her. If he was, she had to nip it in the bud. The DeWitts and Blackthornes were rich folks. All he could possibly want from her was a quick roll in the hay.

Sarah sucked in a silent breath at the thought that crossed her mind.
Why not? He's not going to be in town long. The rich folks never stay. And it's been so long….

Sarah felt guilty for what she was thinking. But it wasn't possible to have a casual affair with someone local, because the gossip would be devastating. And until she knew for certain that Tom was dead, she wasn't willing to get emotionally involved with anyone. She missed being kissed and touched and held in a man's strong arms.

She returned Drew's gaze as long as she dared, then turned her eyes back onto the road.

The tension in the truck was palpable, like static electricity ready to spark the instant Sarah dared to touch. Drew said nothing, just kept looking at her, caressing her with his eyes.

Sarah was remembering his long, muscular legs and long, narrow feet, and the bulge in his fitted briefs when she'd stripped off his jeans.

She felt a growing tautness in her breasts and belly, as though he were already touching her. She took a hitching breath and let it out, then loosened her iron grip on the steering wheel.

Part of her wanted to take him up on his unspoken offer. She wanted to go to bed with him and have incredible, mindless sex. She needed a man. And he seemed willing.

Sarah pulled up at the Jackson Hole Garage, lowered the pickup and unhitched it. Drew could call the garageman tomorrow with instructions. When she stepped back into the truck, she noticed Drew had pulled on his jeans, which were still soggy below the knee, and his wet socks and boots.

“You look uncomfortable,” she said.

“My place isn't far from here. They'll be off soon enough.”

There was enough sexual innuendo in his voice to cut with a knife, but Sarah neither acknowledged nor deflected it. “I think I know the way, but why don't you go ahead and give me directions.”

Sarah followed Drew's instructions, heading down Spring Gulch Road, which quickly turned to dirt as she left the main highway. The ranch was located in a valley thirty miles wide and eighty miles long that lay between the east and west Gros Ventre buttes. Forgotten Valley Ranch was bordered beyond the butte on the west by tributaries of the Snake River, which was marked by the growth of aspens and cottonwoods.

It was an idyllic spot, with a one-story, split-pine ranch house that had been added onto for the better part of a century, surrounded by cottonwoods that had been planted by pioneers. It was a working ranch that, even in this modern day, ran black baldies and Herefords and the occasional longhorn steer. Cowhands grew hay in the summer that was baled in rolls to feed stock from a sleigh in the winter.

Sarah pulled up in front of the main house, which was dark. The foreman's house, which was set across an open yard, was also dark. She looked at her watch. It was shortly after eight o'clock, but the foreman was apparently already in bed. That wasn't unusual, since his day probably started around 4:30 A.M.

“I appreciate you coming to the rescue,” Drew said.

Which reminded Sarah she hadn't charged him yet for the tow. “I'll be sending you a bill.”

“I'd better get inside and get warmed up,” Drew said.

He opened the door and Sarah squinted her eyes against the excruciatingly bright dome light. He hesitated, then pulled the door closed again, leaned over, and touched his mouth to hers in the darkness.

Sarah was too shocked to resist.

His lips were soft. His touch gentle.

Sarah's throat ached with longing. Her lips pushed back against his and opened to his probing tongue. She gasped at the warm wetness. And drew back with a shudder, staring into his glittering eyes.

“Come inside with me,” he said.

Sarah opened her mouth to explain why that was impossible. She was a married woman. She had to get home to her three kids. She was a Teton County Deputy Sheriff, for heaven's sake, with a reputation to protect. There was no way she could indulge in sex with a stranger.

What came out was, “Okay.”

Sarah shivered as she stepped down from the tow truck. The wind had picked up and made the freezing temperature feel glacial. She followed Drew to the kitchen door and stood hunched in her coat as he unlocked the back door, stepped inside and flipped on a light switch. Then he turned and reached out a hand to her.

She was running out of time to turn back.

Sarah laid her hand in his and allowed him to tug her inside.

“It's cold in here,” he said. “Would you like me to make some coffee?”

She wondered if Drew was getting figurative cold feet. She was pretty sure his real feet must be freezing. Sarah pulled her hand free and crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe I should—”

That was all she got out before his arms folded around her and his mouth found hers. His hands slid down to her hips to pull her snug against the hardness in his jeans, then up under her jacket, one on her back, the other resting just under her right breast.

She felt herself tense, waiting for him to touch.

But he didn't reach for her breast. His hand slid back down across the front of her belly and stayed there, making her want, making her anticipate where he would send it next.

Sarah was suddenly too warm in her fleece coat and reached for the zipper.

“Let me,” Drew said in a husky voice. He kept his hips pressed against hers as he slowly zipped it down, his eyes riveted on her as though he were exposing her naked body, rather than a soft black wool turtleneck.

He slid the coat off her arms and let it fall onto the worn linoleum floor behind her. Then he tugged his anorak off over his head and let it drop, leaving him in a plaid wool shirt and long john undershirt.

His hands, warm and callused and, she realized, more experienced than she'd imagined, sought her flesh beneath the sweater. He teased her, almost touching where she wanted him, then moving elsewhere.

Sarah realized she wanted to touch his muscular chest, and she tugged at his shirt buttons, pulling his shirt down his arms, forcing him to release her long enough to get it off. As he reached down to pull his long john shirt off, she reached for her sweater and pulled it off over her head. Her plain brown hair was secured in a French braid, but strands of it came loose and fell around her face.

Her eyes met Drew's as her hands found their way across his chest and up around his neck. He lowered his face as she raised hers, and their lips met. His hands circled her hips and he pulled her tight against him, so her breasts were crushed against the dark blond curls on his chest. Their tongues dueled as she arched her hips into his, feeling the hardness of him, wanting him inside her.

She thrust her tongue into his mouth and heard a guttural groan as his hands tightened on her buttocks. One of her hands gripped a handful of his silky, golden blond hair as the other slid down his back, her nails raking his naked flesh and making his body arch into hers.

Suddenly, he was picking her up, cradling her in his arms. Sarah was stunned because Tom had always said she was too big—too tall—for that sort of romantic gesture. Drew made it seem like she weighed nothing as he headed through the darkened house.

“Don't you need a light?” she asked.

“I know where I'm going,” he answered with a teasing grin.

Moonlight streamed through the bedroom window, hitting the old-fashioned sleigh bed. It looked small, when she was used to the king-sized bed she and Tom had shared. He let her feet drop to the floor, then reached over to pull down the covers.

He sat on the bed, tugging her down beside him, and pulled off his wet socks and boots, then stood and unbuckled his belt and unsnapped his jeans. Sarah froze when she heard the zipper coming down. She exhaled audibly as he pulled his jeans off—along with his thigh-length briefs, leaving him unbelievably, delightfully naked.

She could see the gleam of Drew's white smile in the moonlight as he said, “You want to take those jeans off yourself, or do you want help?”

“To be honest,” she began, “I'm…”

The word that sprang to mind was
terrified.
Of course she was also exhilarated. Mostly, she couldn't believe what she was doing. It was so unlike her. She was a responsible, law-abiding member of the community, a devoted mother…and wife.

But Tom was gone. Dead, she believed. Because the alternative, that he'd abandoned her, was impossible—too unbearably painful—to believe.

Sarah stood and unsnapped her jeans, unzipped them quickly and shoved them down, then sat and pulled off her Sorel boots and socks before tugging her jeans down her bare legs. She left on her plain white bra and white cotton underwear. Then, she stood again, facing Drew.

“My God,” he said.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

He caught her wrists to keep her from covering herself. “You're goddamned beautiful.”

Sarah relaxed in Drew's grip. “Thank you.”

He let go of her wrists and reached out and unsnapped the front clasp of her bra, letting it fall away before covering her breasts with his large, warm hands. She felt his mouth on her nipple, felt him suck and then tease with his teeth.

Her hands threaded through his soft hair and her mouth latched onto his shoulder to bite and suck. She felt him shoving her panties down her legs and used a foot to push them out of her way so she could spread her legs for his searching hand.

His head came up and they stared into one another's heavy-lidded eyes.

“Are you sure you're okay with this?” he asked, placing his fingertips tantalizingly low on her belly.

Sarah couldn't believe he'd stopped to ask. She hadn't exactly been fighting him off. She wondered what he would think if he knew she hoped never to see him again after tonight. That she felt guilty and grateful for what was about to happen all at the same time.

She swallowed hard over the painful lump that had formed in her throat, making speech impossible anytime soon. She nodded soberly.

He tipped her chin up with his forefinger and lowered his mouth to touch her lips with his. “I just wanted to be sure,” he murmured. He turned away, opened the bedside table and retrieved a condom.

She breathed a silent sigh of relief that she wouldn't have to ask, then gulped when he handed the foil package to her and said, “When the time comes, we'll need this.”

He picked her up again and laid her on the bed, then covered her with his body. They were intimately joined from breast to thigh, with his legs caught between hers. His callused hands caressed as his mouth promised rapture.

Sarah was determined to give as good as she got. She reached out to touch warm flesh, and had the satisfaction of hearing Drew grunt in surprise and pleasure.

They were both breathing hard, both slick with sweat, both moaning with pleasure, when Sarah's pager went off.

It didn't pierce her consciousness immediately. She was too wrapped up in the salty taste of Drew's skin, too enamored of the lithe muscle and sinew along his flank, the soft dusting of hair on his muscular forearms, the hard budding of his nipples.

She felt his arms grasp hers, heard him gasp, “What the hell is that?”

Sarah sat up abruptly. “Oh, God.”

Only two parties had the number to her pager. Her children. And the Teton County Sheriff's Office.

Which was when she realized she'd never called Nate and Brooke to tell them she'd be later than she expected. They were probably worried. Ever since Tom had disappeared, they'd kept close track of her whereabouts whenever she was out of the house. It made her sick to her stomach to imagine that they thought she might have run away—or become the victim of some dire act—too.

She slid off the bed and went searching for her jeans in the dark, looking for the pager she kept clipped to her belt. She found it and hit the button that lit the caller's number. She was relieved to see it was the sheriff's office calling and not her children.

“I left my cell in the truck. May I use your phone?” she said.

“Can't that wait?” Drew said, leaning across the bed and pushing the tail of her French braid aside to kiss her nape.

Sarah lowered her head to give him better access and let him kiss her for another moment before she groaned and pulled away. “I'd better call.”

“Sure.” Drew turned on the brass lamp beside the bed, revealing the portable phone on the nightstand and the digital clock, which read 8:52.

Sarah pulled the sheet free and wrapped it around herself. When she turned back to Drew, she felt ashamed, because the bump on his head showed purple in the lamplight. She hadn't given a thought to his injury. “Your poor head,” she said. “Does it hurt?”

“It was fine until your pager went off,” Drew said with a wry smile.

Sarah smiled back as she reached for the phone beside the bed. She took it across the room, keeping a good grip on the sheet with her arms, as she dialed the sheriff's office.

“It's Sarah,” she said to the dispatcher. “What's up? Oh, no. Not another one. Really? Maybe we'll have a chance to find her this time. I'll be there in twenty minutes.”

Sarah clicked off the phone and said, “I have to go.”

“What's the rush?”

“A teenage girl has gone missing, the third over the past fifteen months. This is the first one we've known about in the first twenty-four hours. In fact, she's only been gone six or seven hours.”

“Isn't it a little early to presume something bad has happened to her?” Drew asked as he retrieved his shorts from the floor and began dressing.

Sarah realized she was either going to have to dress under the sheet—a ridiculous proposition, considering the fact that Drew had already seen her naked—or drop the sheet and put her clothes on. She opted for the latter.

Sarah couldn't help feeling pleased at Drew's gasp as the sheet fell to her feet. She stepped over it, found her panties and bra and put them on, then put on socks, jeans and boots.

As she dressed, she explained, “If it weren't for the two other local girls who've gone missing, I don't think we'd be so quick to jump on this.”

“Why do you have to go?” Drew asked, his arm slipping around her waist from behind, his coaxing mouth on her throat almost making her swoon. “Can't someone else do it?”

“I was the detective originally assigned to investigate the disappearance of the other two missing girls.”

“That sounds like a lot of responsibility.”

Sarah's lips twisted sardonically. “I'm only in charge because when the first girl disappeared everyone figured it was a simple missing persons case—some girl who'd run away from home. It happens.”

“What makes you think the missing girls didn't just run away?”

Sarah buckled her belt before she met Drew's eyes. “Because we found the body of another young woman last spring—not one of the two reported missing—buried in a shallow grave in the mountains. She'd been shot once in the back of the head.”

“How did you find her?” Drew said.

“I wish I could claim it was good detective work,” Sarah said. “It was pure accident. An out-of-bounds skier found her. She turned out to be a runaway from Nevada.”

“You have no clue who's taking these girls, or why?”

Sarah shook her head. “Nothing. We're not even sure the cases are connected, or we'd get the FBI involved. The girl who went missing three months ago is from a family living in Driggs, Idaho, about ten miles north over the Teton Pass, who came from Mexico illegally to work in Jackson,” Sarah said.

“The girl reported missing fifteen months ago has no family. She came here from California to bum around on the slopes and worked in one of the motels. She hooked up with a local ski instructor, who reported her missing, or we might not have known anything had happened to her. Folks come and go on the drop of a dime around here.”

Sarah frowned and added, “Which is what makes the third girl's disappearance different. This girl has family here in town.”

“So she decided to kick up her heels for the evening, and she'll show up at home in the morning,” Drew said.

“I hope so,” Sarah said. “A lot of parents have panicked since that girl was found dead in the mountains. A mother calls and says, “Susie's late getting home.” Then Susie shows up and she's been making out in the backseat of Johnny's car for the past three hours. This might be one of those calls.”

“Or it might not,” Drew said.

“Right,” Sarah said. “If this disappearance is connected, and we can find the girl, it might lead us to the other two missing girls.” Sarah pulled free of Drew's embrace and turned to face him. “This was…tonight was…nice.”

“Come back when you're finished and we can—”

Sarah's grimace cut him off. She'd been saved by the pager, given a reprieve. But there was no sense tempting fate. She'd liked everything Drew had done way too much. But there was simply no future in it. It was sex merely for the sake of the pleasure it could bring. Better to cut all ties now.

“I don't think we should—”

“I'll be here in Jackson a while,” Drew said. “We've got time to give it another try. By the way,” he said, “what's your name?”

Sarah stared at him, stricken. She'd almost had sex with a man who didn't even know her name! What had she been thinking? “You don't need to know my name,” she said. “Since we won't be seeing each other again.”

She turned to leave, but he caught her arm.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I should have asked sooner. It didn't seem to matter.”

She stared at his hand until he let her go. Then she headed through the darkened house toward the kitchen door, Drew flipping switches behind her to light her way.

Sarah snatched up her sweater and coat from the black-and-white checkerboard linoleum floor in the kitchen and realized she couldn't race out the door in this frigid weather without stopping to put them back on.