Читать книгу Out Rider - Lindsay McKenna - Страница 13

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CHAPTER FIVE

BART SMILED A LITTLE. He had the weekend off as a truck driver for Ace. He’d been working for two weeks, showing his boss he had the right stuff. Rivas, the owner, seemed happy with him, and that was all that counted. Even better, Rivas had given him a cot in a back room near the repair bay, a place to stay, until he could find somewhere to live. There was more to it than that, of course, Bart thought as he drove in his silver Dodge Ram. The day was sunny even though the sun was sinking in the West across the Tetons. The mid-June weather had been welcoming and warming. No more snow flurries, thank God.

He was driving down Moose Road toward a set of condo buildings on the left. On the right were apartment complexes sticking out on the flat land. So far, he’d found out that Dev Blake was at the Teton Park HQ. They wouldn’t give out her phone number or address and so he’d hung up on the person answering the phone. He had learned that, yes, Dev was working at the visitor’s center.

Today, he was going to check out the condos and the apartment complexes. The only way to find out where she was living was to go into the condo office and ask for her. So far, he’d turned up nothing. His mind roved over other possibilities, such as Dev living with another woman ranger and splitting the rent somewhere in town. If it was a house, she was going to be harder to trace. Bart was hoping she had opted for one of these places on Moose Road because he’d exhausted all other rental properties, working from southern to northern Jackson Hole. He’d gone east and now he was finishing up by going west. The bitch had to be living somewhere.

And finding out she was working at the visitor’s center was a piece of good luck. If nothing else, on his day off, he could hang out in the large parking lot and observe. Bart knew Dev McGuire owned a blue-and-white Ford pickup truck. It was another piece of vital info he needed in order to find out where she was living. Making a right turn, he decided to go into the apartment complex and parked near the office. Bart climbed out of the cab. He had made sure he looked like a tourist in a red polo shirt, a fisherman’s hat and ivory chinos.

“Hey,” he called, coming in the door and smiling at the young blond-haired woman behind the desk, “how are you?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “May I help you?”

Folding his hands on the pine counter Bart said, “I’m looking for a friend of mine. Dev McGuire. By any chance is she living here? I’d like to connect with her.” Bart saw the girl’s young face redden a little as she put the name into the computer behind the counter. Bart knew she would not give Dev’s apartment number or phone number. That was just the way it was.

“Why...yes, she moved in here two weeks ago.”

“Great,” he murmured, rewarding her with a flirty look. “I’ll get in touch with her, then. Thanks. Have a good day.”

Once in his pickup, Bart grinned and decided to drive around the three major parking lots to the three apartment towers. He tapped the wheel with his index finger, feeling a surge of triumph. The bitch thought she was done with him? He chuckled, feeling a sense of overwhelming victory.

There was no blue-and-white Ford pickup parked in any of the lots. He glanced at his watch. It was 5:30 p.m. He wasn’t sure what shift Dev had. And those shifts changed every three months, anyway. As he got out, his gut told him to park at the first tower. At his back was the second tower and parking lot. Seeing a number of people coming home for the evening, he figured the mailboxes just inside the door would have names on them—possibly. That wasn’t always the case, but he’d find out.

He went up to the main entry door but found it locked. An older woman in her fifties approached. He pretended to be looking in his pockets as she drew abreast of him.

“You know what?” he said, smiling at her. “I can’t find my card. By any chance, can you let me in? I just moved in three days ago.” Bart knew his megawatt smile always affected women. That was how he lured them in. The woman flushed and nodded.

“Oh, moving is so rough. Of course I can.” She went forward and slid her card into the slot. The door clicked.

Bart moved toward it, opened it and gestured grandly for her to go in ahead of him.

“Thank you,” she said. There was a bank of elevators to the left and she headed toward them.

Spotting the row of aluminum mailboxes, Bart quickly peeled off to the right, eyes narrowed, hoping to find Dev’s name. Each one had a number. Some had names on them, too. Others did not. About half were just numbers. He was frustrated. If Dev was in this tower, she had a number only. Damn. So close...

* * *

SLOAN PARKED AT the complex and got Mouse out of the cab of his truck and onto a leash. He immediately noticed a tall red-haired man leaving Tower One, hands in his pockets. The stranger gazed around, as if trying to find someone. Sloan closed the door and stood, watching him. Mouse suddenly became alert. His dog was basically psychic, moving into that state of superawareness. Sloan knew most of the residents. He’d lived here two years and he made it his business to know faces and cars. The man briefly glanced in his direction and then swiftly looked away when he realized Sloan was studying him.

Something didn’t feel right about this fellow. Sloan watched the man walk to a big silver Dodge Ram, climb in and then leave, heading south on Moose Road, toward town. Rubbing the back of his neck, he saw Mouse watching him, too. The dog was getting a hit, just like he had. And that was why Mouse was so good at what he did. The leather leash was wrapped around Sloan’s hand. “Come on, let’s go in, Mouse.”

The dog wagged his tail, following him.

Sloan’s mind drifted to Dev. Since that trail ride two weeks ago, it seemed that life was doing everything it could to keep them apart. He rarely saw her, except when she came into the barn to take Goldy for a ride on one of the nearby trails. He was always either leaving or coming back from shoeing assignments for the Forest Service. No one had any idea how many mules and horses the USFS had in this area. The rangers always rode horses and the mules did the heavy lifting. The mules carried shovels, pickaxes, quick-drying cement, and loads of posts and nails where needed.

Sloan wanted to see Dev. Where was she? He knew she was still on the day shift. Maybe she’d gone into town to do some grocery shopping? Dammit, he missed her. Missed hearing her husky voice, seeing the sparkle of gold in her dark green eyes, the way she tilted her head, the way her sleek black hair curled across her shoulders, emphasizing the natural beauty of her face. Those lips of hers teased his senses.

With a groan, Sloan took the stairs to the second floor, Mouse at his side. Maybe he should leave a note on her door? Invite her over for a glass of wine after dinner? He preferred beer, but Sloan had found out in their conversations she was a white-wine lover. And last week he’d bought a bottle that she liked and stored it in his fridge...just in case.

Opening his door, Sloan pushed it wide and took a look around. Old habits died hard in him. He’d breached a lot of doors of Taliban homes in Afghanistan. He could feel Mouse tensing, as if ready to be sent in to find and attack the enemy. Patting his dog’s head, he unsnapped the leash and Mouse bounded inside, heading for the kitchen where there was a big bowl of water. By the time Sloan got in, locked the door, and found a pad and pen, Mouse was noisily lapping up water. Sloan smiled to himself and wondered how single people managed without a dog or cat to lighten their lives, make things better. He’d been raised around farm animals, dogs and cats all his life. Sloan would be lonely without an animal to keep him company.

He scribbled the note, found a piece of tape and opened his door to walk across the hall to stick it on Dev’s.

“Hey,” Dev called, waving to him as she walked down the hall. Bella, at her side on a leash, wagged her tail upon seeing Sloan.

Halting, Sloan grinned. She was in her ranger uniform and looked a little tired. “Hey, yourself.” He lifted the paper. “I haven’t seen you hardly at all in the past two weeks so I was going to put this on your door and invite you over for some white wine, if you wanted.” He liked the smile coming to Dev’s face as her cheeks flushed. Her hair was in disarray and it looked like she’d been outdoors.

Dev held out her hand. “I’ll take that invite. I need it tonight.” She opened the door and said, “Let me change. You pour the wine and I’ll be over in two heartbeats.”

Nodding, Sloan felt his heart expand. “You got it.”

“Is it okay if I bring Bella over?”

Mouse always enjoyed Bella’s company. Why not? “Sure.” Dev’s green eyes lit up and Sloan’s lower body instantly tightened. Her smile always made his heart beat a little faster, his yearning increase.

Entering his apartment, Sloan felt lighter. The injured part of him fought with the delicious, dizzying happiness that tunneled through him. He put all his bad experiences aside. Dev interested him and he craved her company. Looking at Mouse, who was wagging his tail as if reading his mind, Sloan chuckled and walked to the kitchen to get the wine and pour her a glass. “You’re going to get some company, too, partner.”

Mouse whined, his dark brown eyes shining with anticipation.

That was about the way Sloan felt as he poured the wine and then got himself a cold beer out of his fridge. He decided Dev might be hungry, so he sliced up some Gouda cheese on a plate and added some crackers to it. Might as well go all the way. As he placed the plate on the kitchen table, there was a light knock at his door. Sloan tried to ignore his heart bouncing in reaction.

Opening the door, he saw Dev had changed into a pair of baggy gray workout pants and she wore a loose pale green tee. Bella was at her side on a leash, wagging her tail and panting, her eyes sparkling, too.

“Come on in,” he invited, standing aside. This was only the second time Dev had been in his apartment. As she walked by, Sloan automatically inhaled her scent, evergreen combined with her own sweet fragrance that made him groan internally. Good thing he was wearing Levi’s, but that didn’t make the ache of his erection feel any better as it pressed against the zipper, encountering fabric resistance.

Bella remained at Dev’s side until she unsnapped the leash and gave the Lab a hand signal to go join Mouse, who was ever the gentleman, sitting near his big doggy bed in the corner of the large living room. They sniffed and smelled one another in greeting, tails moving excitedly back and forth.

Sloan gestured to the kitchen table. “I don’t imagine you’ve had dinner yet?”

Wrinkling her nose, Dev took the chair he pulled out for her. “No...and honestly? I don’t feel up to a full meal just yet. The cheese and crackers look good, though.” She glanced up, smiling at him.

Sloan saw that Bella was lying down near Mouse, both of them panting and gazing adoringly at one another. Mouse was better behaved than Sloan was feeling right now. Dev’s dark hair was smoothed and brushed. Her cheeks were flushed and as always, his gaze dropped to her mouth for a split second. Sloan sat down at her elbow, sliding the cold beaded glass of white wine toward her. “What happened? You looked a little stressed earlier.”

She nibbled on the cheese and then took a sip of the wine. “Right before 5:00 p.m., an older lady fainted at our desk. Out of the blue. Scared the hell out of me.”

“What was wrong with her?”

“I think a stroke, but I’m not sure. I ran around the counter after she collapsed and with the help of Becky, who was also working a shift, we got her lying down with her head tipped back so she could breathe.”

“I’ll bet the other visitors were upset,” Sloan guessed, taking a drink of beer, the bubbles feeling good in his mouth.

Dev rolled her eyes. “That was the worst part. The woman’s daughter went ballistic. She was shrieking and screaming, completely losing it.”

“People never know what they’ll do until they’re faced with a crisis,” Sloan mused. “Could you talk the daughter down?”

“No,” Dev said, blowing out a big sigh. “I told Becky to deal with her while I stayed with the unconscious woman until the ambulance arrived. A third ranger, Randy, quietly moved all the tourists out of the center and stood guard at the door, giving us some privacy and space.”

“Sounds like you handled it the best you could.”

“Yes, but it really shook me up,” Dev admitted, picking up a cracker.

“It would anyone,” Sloan told her gently. “Don’t be hard on yourself, Dev.” There was something in her eyes, deep in the recesses of them, that Sloan couldn’t define. That same terror he’d seen weeks ago was lurking in their depths. Dev’s brow creased as she frowned and she took a deep drink of the wine. He could see a slight tremble in her fingers around the glass stem as she set it down.

“Well,” Dev muttered, giving him a worried look, “there’s more to this, but you probably realize that.”

Sloan sat back, stretching out his long legs beneath the table. “I can see you’re upset, Dev. What did this event trigger for you?” He might as well try to get her to talk about it. Even though they hadn’t had a lot of time together, it was obvious he and Dev shared something good between them. Would she trust him and let her guard down with him? Sloan didn’t know. He could see her struggle with his question. She pushed her fingers through her hair and he was beginning to understand that with Dev, it was a gesture of nervousness, of not being sure about something.

So, he waited. Sloan had learned a long time ago when dealing with fractious horses that hated being shod, that just standing quietly and patiently, letting the animal get it out of their system, was the best course of action. And he thought Dev needed that same kind of response from him if she was going to share whatever it was that had triggered the terror in her eyes again.

“Well,” she mumbled, wrapping both hands around the wet stem of the wineglass, “you’re right. It hit me a lot harder than I expected...the noise...the screams...the ambulance...”

Sloan met and held her eyes, seeing the trepidation in them. Dev compressed her lips. “You were in the Marine Corps,” he offered quietly. “And from what you’ve told me, with that IED going off close to you and Bella, plus getting wounded, you probably have a little PTSD from the event. It would be expected, Dev.”

Her mouth thinned further, one corner pulling inward as she gave him a swift look and then returned her gaze to the wineglass in front of her. “I do have PTSD. It wasn’t half as bad as it is now, though...”

Frowning, Sloan remained relaxed, although his instincts told him that Dev needed to be held. Her fingers opened and closed constantly around the stem of the wineglass. He could feel the tension in her because his sixth sense was finely honed from years working in Afghanistan, where every minute he and Mouse could have died if they weren’t careful. His hyperawareness wasn’t something Sloan wanted many people to know about because it usually made them uncomfortable in his midst. Some accused him of having X-ray vision. Or being a mind reader. But it was neither. He just had very well honed instincts at an animal level he’d used to sense out situations that might have been lethal to him and Mouse. Even after leaving the Army, that skill remained online to this day.

The feelings he sensed around Dev were devastating to Sloan. Strong emotions, intense and shattering. What the hell had happened to her? He keyed in on her statement that her PTSD was worse now than before. What did that mean? Had there been another incident in the Marine Corps that had deepened it? Made it worse? He knew there were so many dark emotions that came with their military work in an enemy-rich environment.

Sloan had to stop himself from reaching out and enclosing his hand around Dev’s nervous fingers, now wet from the beads of moisture sliding downward off the wineglass. Even more telling was that Bella had come over and sat down, feeling Dev’s stress. Dogs picked up in a heartbeat on how their human handlers were feeling. Even the Lab looked worried as she studied her mistress.

Dev reached over, giving Bella a pat on the head.

Sloan watched Dev gird herself, straightening her spine, and then she gave him an apologetic glance.

“I guess this incident triggered something that happened to me six months ago.”

Sloan nodded, saying nothing, not wanting to stop her from speaking.

“I was...well... There was this red-haired ranger named Bart Gordon at the HQ where I worked out of in Smoky Mountains National Park.” Dev lowered her voice. “He was always smiling at everyone. He worked with me at the visitor’s center sometimes. It was the only place I ever saw him. Bart had a way with women. If a little girl was crying, he’d come around the counter, crouch down and speak to her and she’d stop crying. He had a kind of magic with women, no matter what their age.”

The terror rushed forward in Dev’s eyes as she spoke, her voice as strained as her expression. Bella moved closer to Dev, placing her head in her lap. Dev automatically stroked her worried dog.

“I was usually out doing tracking with Bella, but I’d heard from my boss that Bart was really a great PR person for the Forest Service because he had a way with words and people.”

Dev gulped and swallowed, her eyes trained on the glass. Something had happened and Sloan’s mind instantly leaped to a place he was reluctant to explore. “What happened between you?”

Dev snapped her head in his direction, her eyes widening. “Am I that obvious?”

Sloan gave her a warm look meant to ratchet down her tension. Instantly, her shoulders dropped. “No. Just my farrier sensing,” he drawled. Dev nodded, tearing her gaze from his.

“I keep forgetting that. I know farriers have almost a telepathic link to the animals they’re working with.”

“Yeah,” he said, a slight hitch in one corner of his mouth, “it’s all about safety.”

“You’re right. It always is.” Dev gave Sloan a searching look and admitted, “Gordon started stalking me. I had only stood duty at the visitor’s center with him a couple of times, but he became fixated on me.”

“Did you want his attention?”

“God, no... Even Bella didn’t like him. And she likes everyone,” Dev said, giving her Lab a loving look, nervously stroking her head and neck. “I tried to stay away from him as much as I could, Sloan. But damn, it was like he was psychic. Bart could pick up on when I was going to be coming back to HQ. He’d always be around at those times and it started triggering my PTSD because he felt like an enemy stalking me. Wanting something from me...”

“Did you inform your supervisor?” Sloan asked. He saw her give a jerky nod.

“I went to him and he laughed it all off. Told me it was my imagination.” Dev glared at the wall in front of her for a moment, seemingly wrestling with escaping emotions. “I filled out a report on it, anyway. He deep-sixed it. After three months of no action, and Gordon following me around like a lost puppy, I put in for a lateral move to come out here.”

“Men protecting men?” Sloan wondered, watching her expression carefully because he could feel how upset Dev really was. Just talking about it was making her edgy and tense. How badly he wanted to get up, move around to her chair, pull it out and draw Dev into his arms. But that wouldn’t be wise because now he knew another man had done something bad to her. And for him to try to hold her could backfire. Dev might see him as a would-be stalker, too.

She grimaced and took a jerky sip of wine, wrestling with barely held rage. “Always,” she gritted out. “I did nothing wrong. I’m not a flirt. I wasn’t in a relationship. But that doesn’t mean I’m out trying to get a man, either.”

“Did your supervisor have a friendship with Gordon?”

“Oh, yeah,” Dev whispered, shaking her head. “One thing you learn real fast about Bart is that he knows how to lure you and then hook you with his smile. With the way he maneuvers you. God, he gets inside your head.” She touched her brow, her voice incredulous. Turning, she met Sloan’s hooded stare. “When I was in Afghanistan, I met plenty of CIA operatives. One thing I found out in a hurry was the way they ingratiate themselves with you in order to gain your trust. Get inside your head.”

Raising his brows, Sloan nodded. “It’s a basic CIA tactic to gain someone’s trust. Find out what they like, what interests them, and then they adopt the same likes and dislikes you have, so you’ll trust them. After all—” and his mouth hooked upward a bit “—it’s a human frailty to fall in with someone who is like-minded. Right?”

Dev saw the gleam of understanding in Sloan’s thoughtful stare. “Yes. That’s exactly what they did. I hated it. I saw it and I’d call them on it. And then—” she rolled her eyes “—I meet Gordon and he was exactly like that. He asks you a bunch of questions, feeling you out, and then he suddenly feels the same way you do on everything.”

“Was he possibly a CIA agent?” Sloan asked.

“I don’t know,” Dev uttered wearily. She sipped her wine. “All I know is that he ingratiated himself with anyone that he thought had power. I watched him do it. I recognized what he was doing.”

“But he was stalking you?”

“Yes... God, I hated it. I knew he had our supervisor in his back pocket. I knew if I went to my boss, he’d bury my protest and not protect me.”

Sloan slowly unwound from the chair, walked to the fridge and pulled out the bottle of wine. Coming back, he refilled her glass. “Come on, you need to eat something,” he urged her, catching her glum, dark-looking eyes. He wanted to do a helluva lot more than pour Dev some wine. She gave him a grateful look and sipped it. Then she picked up a piece of cheese with a small cracker, beginning to nibble disinterestedly on it.

Sloan felt good about the fact that he could affect Dev positively. But his mind spun with so many questions. Was she this trusting with everyone? Was that why Gordon had stalked her? Because she was gullible? As Sloan walked to his chair and sat down, he felt terror and sadness surrounding Dev. She had gone pale as she’d confided in him. There was a lot more to this, he realized. Dev was fragile. Despite her outward appearance of confidence, Sloan felt the wound she’d received, and it had done major damage to her as a person. Perhaps as a woman? He really didn’t want to think Gordon had raped her. Just the thought turned his stomach and tightened it into a painful knot. His fist flexed and Sloan forced himself to remain relaxed. After all, Dev was a dog handler, which spoke about her sensitivity, her all-terrain awareness. She wouldn’t have survived those deployments if she didn’t have that outer awareness every soldier, every dog handler, developed.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Dev. You didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.”

When she turned, her green eyes had a sheen of tears in them. It tore at his heart. Sloan could feel a huge storm of emotions bubbling barely beneath her control. Her lower lip trembled.

Out Rider

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