The Man From Falcon Ridge. Rita Herron
God knows why he cared. She certainly hadn’t looked at him with interest. Just a wariness that spoke volumes about the past she was running from.
Through the trees, he glanced at the property down the hill, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He could still see the blood-soaked floor, the listless eyes, could smell the foul stench of body odors and death inside that kitchen.
Shadows and ghosts lurched all around him.
Just as he had twenty years ago, he strode deeper into the forest to purge his emotions. He had to free his father, get revenge against the person who’d butchered the Lyles and stolen his father’s life by letting him take the rap.
He couldn’t worry about Hailey and her secrets.
Inhaling the fresh cold air, the tension from his body dissipated slightly as the earthy scents and sounds of the forest engulfed him. Becoming one with the untamed wilderness, with the hawks soaring above, had become his solace. The only place he felt free, at peace.
The endless long nights of hearing his mother cry whispered from the snow-laden bellies of the aspens and fir trees. And then there were his little brothers. Deke had cloaked himself in anger and Brack had withdrawn into a shell made of human mortar that still kept him prisoner, barring anyone from getting too close. And both of them had had trouble with the law.
His father’s parting words, “Take care of your mother and brothers,” echoed in Rex’s mind.
He’d tried. But he’d failed so many times.
A squirrel scampered up a nearby pine, snow swirling from the branches in a white cloud as a gust of wind whistled through the spiny needles. Fresh blood marked the white, and he frowned, squinting at the spatters, trying to decide their origin. Human or animal? Another gunshot shattered the tranquility, bouncing off the rocks. He froze, senses honed to detect its source. He didn’t want to be mistaken for a deer or elk.
Another shot echoed from the hills and he turned, searching the distance. It was coming from the southern slope near the Hatchet House. What if Hailey decided to take a walk? It could be dangerous.
His boots crunched as he hiked toward her place. He’d have to warn her to be careful of hunters and their stray bullets.
There were other dangers for a woman living alone in the wilderness, too. Some of the men who liked to comb the hills were more predatory than the animals they hunted. They would take advantage of a woman in a second.
The scent of death floated toward him, fresh blood marking the icy path. Through the bed of trees, he spotted a buck sprawled near the creek, its tan flanks covered in blood, its once agile body deathly still. The hunter would be back to collect his kill any minute.
Trees rustled up ahead. He called out a warning, but Hailey burst through the brush, her face pale, her eyes wide in terror.
Worse, she was running straight toward the ravine.
SUDDENLY A MAN’S HANDS grabbed Hailey from behind. Panic zinged through her. She screamed and swung her arms back, struggling to free herself, but they fell to the ground in a tangle. Icy snow seeped through her clothes as she bucked upward, trying to throw his weight off of her. But his hands gripped her tightly, pinning her to the spot.
“Hailey, stop it, dammit, it’s me.”
She dug her elbows into his chest, trying to force him to loosen his grip. Instead, his fingers tightened around her wrists, pushing them into her back. The rest of his body was on top of her, his thighs rubbing hers as he lifted his head.
“Hailey, be still,” the voice growled. “It’s Rex. I was just trying to keep you from falling over the cliff.”
Hailey froze, her breath rasping out as the husky voice registered. Was Rex following her? Had he been inside her house?
No…that was impossible. She’d heard him drive away.
Rational thoughts returning, she slowly relaxed, spitting out snow. But his body was still pressed firmly on top of hers. He stiffened, and his hard sex pressed into her hip. Fear crawled up her spine, the need to escape him mounting. “You can let me go now,” she said through clenched teeth.
“All right.” His grip loosened. “But be careful. The cliff drops off to the creek about fifty yards in front of you.”
She nodded. She’d been running so fast she could have sailed over the edge. A shudder gripped her at the thought. Only the possibility of being murdered like the Lyles wasn’t any better.
Uncertain whether she’d imagined Rex’s physical reaction to her, she brushed snow and debris from her jeans, the cold seeping through the wet denim, chilling her inside and out. He helped her stand, then cradled her elbows in his hands as he turned her to face him. His breath whooshed out as he reached up and traced a finger over her lip. Uneasiness spread through her limbs. They were alone in the woods, just like she’d been with Thad. Would this man try to use force on her as her former boyfriend had? Would he turn on her in a second?
Then she realized he was wiping away blood.
His brown eyes searched her face, a frown pulling at his mouth. “What the hell were you running from?”
“S-someone was shooting at me.” She inhaled, shivering again. Beard stubble darkened his tightly held jaw, the wind ruffling the black strands of his hair and sweeping it across his forehead. He looked ominous, like a big black bear ready to tear apart anyone that stood in his way.
Then she remembered the feel of his arousal pressing into her and another feeling splintered through her—a tingle that felt like attraction.
Good heavens, no. Not now. Not to this man. Not when she was trying to put her life together. Trying to escape her past.
Remembering Thad’s control issues, she melted backward, pulling away. “Did you see him?”
“A hunter,” Rex said in a gruff voice. “He probably thought you were a deer or elk running through the forest.”
Another gunshot blasted, and she startled so badly he pulled her into his arms. “Shh, it’s all right now.”
Her breath quivered out. “No…he shot at me, he was trying to kill me.”
His black eyebrows rose, his hand automatically playing along her neck and shoulders, soothing her. “I saw a deer he killed,” Rex said. “I’m sure he mistook you for an animal.”
“But the bullet nearly hit my head, and s-someone was in the house when I went inside,” Hailey said, stiffening. “He…left a note. He threatened me.”
“What?” He pulled her closer against him, but Hailey backed away again, hands fisted, her survival instincts roaring to life.
“When I went inside,” Hailey said, struggling for a steady breath, “someone was upstairs. They left dead gardenias on the table and a picture of the Lyles’ murder…” Her voice broke as images of the carnage flooded her.
Another shot rang out, echoing in the distance. Thankfully it sounded farther away this time. Hailey’s gaze found the cliff. A vulture soared above, swooping downward in a wide arc, its black feathers stark against the aquamarine sky, its talons bared as it zeroed in on its target. Just seeing the bird reminded her all too much that if Rex hadn’t grabbed her, she might have plunged to her death below.
REX STUDIED HAILEY, his mind battling his body’s natural reaction. He’d only meant to keep her from running off the cliff, but the moment he brushed against her, his sexual instincts had stirred to life, strong and more alive than they had been in months. Hell, maybe years.
Physical arousal, he told himself. A basic human reaction, a natural animal one. But this time his senses had become skewed with the need to fold her in his arms and hold her for the night, to protect her and make promises that he couldn’t keep.
But these urges went against the free man he needed to be. Free like the falcons…