High meadow, p.4
High Meadow, page 4
The view is incredible back here, however, and I can see why the living area is at the back of the house. A handful of horses graze in a sloping meadow behind the house and beyond that the Rockies rise up in their full glory.
A sound has me whip my head around as Ama walks back in and grabs a big thermos and two mugs from the kitchen before joining me at the table.
“This is beautiful,” I comment when Ama slides a mug in front of me. “I don’t think I’d get anything done with a view like this. Don’t get me wrong,” I hurry to add. “The view from my front porch is nothing to sneeze at, but nothing like this.”
Ama pushes milk and sugar containers my way. “I know,” she muses, staring out the doors as well. “Trust me, it never gets old.”
“How long have you—”
My question is cut off when Max—who was hiding under the table—suddenly starts barking and beelines it toward the front door.
“I guess they’re home,” Ama announces.
Jonas
* * *
Fucking rain.
Already a steady stream of water runs down the channels on the sides of the driveway. That’s not what the forecast indicated for today, but then again, you never know what the weather’s gonna do in the mountains.
One moment the sun is out and the next you get a downpour like this. The only thing you can be sure of is that it’s gonna snow in the winter and is relatively dry and warm in July and August, but everything in between can run the gamut from frigid to comfortable. This morning we had frost on the ground and a stark blue sky, and look at it now.
The early morning callout was for an industrious five-year-old who somehow managed to unlock the deadbolt on his parents’ farmhouse about twelve miles south of here. The frantic father had knocked on a neighbor’s door, hoping the kid had wandered over there. The neighbor happened to be a friend of James, which is why we trailered a couple of horses at the break of dawn to help with the search.
Luckily, we found the boy quickly. Only clad in his pajamas, he was hypothermic by the time we got to him, but he should recover just fine.
I notice Alex’s truck when I pass by the house. She’s probably in the barn with Phantom. Hope she missed the downpour.
“Let’s get these horses inside,” I tell James as I get out of the truck.
Fortunately the rain seems to have slowed down a bit when I round the back of the trailer and unlock it to reveal the two horses. James grabs Cisco and I back out Sugar—my preferred ride. High Meadow houses mostly quarter horses, but we also have a few quarter-draft crosses. We prefer the rugged breed for search and rescue. They’re surefooted and durable in the sometimes-rough terrain, and they have impressive stamina. Perfect for our kind of work.
I lead Sugar into the barn and am surprised to find Phantom in his stall, but no Alex in sight. I rub down Sugar’s wet coat with some straw.
“Can you feed them?” I ask James as I start toward the house. Only place I can think of she may have gone.
“Say hi for me,” James calls out behind me and I flip him the bird over my shoulder.
Sully and his big mouth.
A dark-red Dodge Ram is coming up the driveway. Dad. I grin and shake my head when I recognize the massive white Stetson barely visible behind the wheel.
I get my height from my mother’s side of the family. Dad likes to claim he’s five foot eleven, but I bet he’s no more than five eight. His whole life he’s compensated for it with big hats and big trucks. This one is new, a massive 3500 dually. Dad is a bigger-than-life character, loud, boisterous, flashy, but underneath all that is a kind, hardworking man with a good heart. A good soul.
The smile lingers on my face as I approach the truck.
“Goddangit.”
The strangled curse comes from the other side of the cab where I find my father standing in a puddle, his snakeskin boots—probably worth a mortgage payment—covered in mud.
“Damn rain,” is the first thing he says when he catches sight of me.
His seventy-nine-year-old, scraggly face is barely visible under the wide brim of his hat, but blue eyes matching mine peek out, still young and sparkling with mischief.
God, I missed him. Haven’t seen him since last Christmas.
“Couldn’t you’ve ordered me some damn sunshine, Son?”
I grab his offered hand. My father doesn’t hug. A pat on the shoulder or back, maybe, but any other public displays of affection were reserved solely for my mother when she was still alive.
“Good to see you too, Dad. Got your stuff in the truck?”
He waves me off.
“We’ll get it later. Take me inside, already. I’ve gotta shake hands with the major, I’m about to wet my damn pants. Drove straight here from Bozeman.”
Jesus, that’s over six hours. I can’t even hold it for that long.
“Should’a stopped, Dad,” I admonish him, but again he waves me off.
“Don’t start. I’ll be fine once you show me to the bathroom,” he grumbles pointedly.
I can hear the barking inside when I step up to the front door.
“Max, settle down,” I intercept the big dog when I enter the house.
Last thing I need is him knocking Dad to the ground and, God forbid, breaking his hip.
“Hold on to me.”
I grab Dad’s hand and steady him while he kicks off his expensive boots. Then he pushes past me, shuffling on stockinged feet to the bathroom.
“That your father?” I hear Ama calling from the kitchen.
“Yup. He just drove all the damn way from Bozeman without stopping,” I respond as I make my way to the back of the house.
But when I step through the doorway my eyes are instantly drawn to Alex, who is wearing my clothes.
Fuck me.
Not like my favorite workout shirt is revealing—in fact, it hangs on her like a potato sack—but I swear she looks sexy as hell.
Ama clears her throat and my eyes snap her way. She’s flashing a big grin.
“Got her in out of the rain,” she explains unnecessarily. I could’ve figured that out for myself. “Looked like a drenched cat so her clothes are in the dryer.”
“I should probably get to work,” Alex says immediately, shooting to her feet.
“Sit. It’s still raining outside.”
She glances out the back before turning to me. “Hardly.”
“Sky’s starting to break up. Give it ten minutes and it’ll be dry,” I insist.
She seems undecided until Ama adds, “Your clothes will be dry in another ten or fifteen. Time for a refill.”
“Goddangit, almost sprang a leak there,” Dad says as he shuffles into the kitchen.
“I’d better not find splatter on the floor,” Ama grumbles as my father makes his way over to her, grinning wide as he wraps her up in a hug.
“My aim is still good. Always so warm and welcoming, Ama, does my rickety heart good.”
“Nothing wrong with your heart, old man. It’ll still be ticking long after that skinny body of yours gives up. Have you eaten at all since Christmas?”
This is nothing new. Since Dad’s very first visit to the ranch—when he tried to order Ama around—these two have been bickering like an old married couple. Underneath all that bluster they adore the heck out of each other.
I keep an eye on Alex, who appears to be taking in the friendly spat with a healthy dose of humor. But when James walks in, and instantly hooks Ama behind the neck laying a wet one on her, Alex is clearly shocked.
“I eat,” Dad says with a stubborn look when suddenly he notices Alex sitting at the dining table. His face transforms on the spot and the charmer appears. “Well, well, well, who have we here?”
Alex drags her eyes from the couple and focuses on Dad.
“Alex, this is my father, Thomas Harvey. Dad, Alexandra owns Hart’s Horse Rescue down the road. She’s working with Phantom.”
My father shakes his head. “Too much horse for a pretty filly like that.”
Shit. I should’ve known that would be his reaction. My dad is a bit of a traditionalist.
I quickly jump in before Alex has a chance to climb down Dad’s throat.
“Actually, she’s very good with Phantom. None of us—not even Doc Evans—managed to change his bandages without sedating him first.”
“She did?”
Dad directs a surprised look at Alex, who is clearly not used to compliments. A bit of a blush crawls up her cheeks. I fucking love that freckled pale skin, it shows everything.
“It’s what I do,” she states simply, before she walks over to my dad and holds out her hand.
Dad takes and holds on to it as he glances outside.
“Rain stopped. If you want me to believe that, you’re gonna have to show me.”
Alex juts her chin in the air proudly.
“Let me get my clothes on and I will.”
She pulls her hand back and marches toward the laundry room, turning back at the last minute with a sparkle in her eyes.
“But…you may wanna use the facilities first,” she says, a grin pulling at her lips. “This is gonna take a while.”
Ama’s loud hearty laugh bursts loose and gets the rest of us going. Even Dad, who shakes his head as he turns to me.
“She’s a fiery one.”
Five
Jonas
* * *
“She’s got your father wrapped around her finger as well.”
Sully walks up and rests his arms on the fence beside mine.
In the corral, Alex throws her head back and laughs at my dad. Phantom doesn’t even flinch at the sudden sound. She looks beautiful. In her element. Free.
I’d like to find out more about her, her life, how she ended up here. She has me curious and that’s new for me. I may feel the occasional attraction, but I can’t recall ever being this fascinated with a woman.
“You’re being outplayed by your father,” Sully teases, interrupting my thoughts.
Dad’s ended up in the corral with Alex and Phantom the last couple of days and I’ve taken a back seat. I trust my father. He’s been a horseman his whole life, and his father before him. He may be turning eighty this year, and working full days running a ranch may be too much, but working with Alex may be just the thing to make him feel useful.
“I’m not playing.”
Sully’s silent for a moment but I can feel his scrutiny.
“I stand corrected,” he concedes before abruptly changing the subject. “Have you heard anything from Ewing?”
“Nope.”
“Don’t understand why we’re not out there looking.”
“Not up to the sheriff’s department, Sul. The feds are on it.”
“Right, and they’re pinching pennies while those guys are getting farther and farther away.”
I clap him on the shoulder and head to the stable. It’s time I give Blitz a good workout.
When I return to the ranch an hour or so later, Alex’s truck is gone but Dad is coming down the porch.
“He’s a beauty,” he says as he walks up, rubbing a hand along Blitz’s muscular neck.
The horse flicks his head a few times.
“He’s got an attitude.” I swing my leg over the horn and slide down. “Too much fire and he battles me every step of the way.”
“Gonna breed him?”
“That was the plan, but not as long as he’s like this.”
I take his reins and start walking toward the barn. Dad falls into step beside me.
“You could ask that filly to see what she can do. Betcha she could sweeten him up some.”
“She’s got her hands full with Phantom. She also has a rescue to run.”
Dad shrugs. “Wouldn’t hurt to ask.”
“Maybe.”
“Who’s that?”
He looks back at the house where a black SUV is just pulling up.
“Not sure. Can you take Blitz? One of the hands in the stable can help you with his tack.”
Dad huffs loudly when I suggest asking for help, but he takes the reins.
Two people get out of the SUV and start walking to the house. I instantly recognize the white lettering on the back of their jackets, feds, but I’m not familiar with the agents.
“Can I help you?” I call out, closing the distance.
The older of the two men turns his head and changes direction, walking toward me.
“Jonas Harvey?”
“That’s me.”
“Special Agents Schroeder and Wolff. We’d like to speak with you.”
“Come on in.”
I gesture toward the house, where Ama is already poking her head out of the front door. The woman doesn’t miss a beat.
“What can I do for you, gentlemen?” I ask when we settle in my office at the front of the house.
The younger agent, Wolff, stands by the door like some sentry while Schroeder takes a seat on the other side of my desk. The hierarchy is easily established.
“I understand Sheriff Ewing already spoke to you about the incident near Kootenay Falls?”
“If you’re talking about the two escaped prisoners, then yes,” I state bluntly.
I don’t have the patience to beat around the bush.
“Right. I hope you understand this information is confidential. Last thing we need is the press getting hold of this.”
I sit back in my chair and fold my arms over my chest.
“I assume you’ve done your due diligence before you came here, which means you are aware of my background and know damn well I run a team of professionals. Not like it’s the first time we’ve been called in by the FBI to assist. Now…” I lean forward and plant my elbows on my desk. “My guess is you’re here because you need help tracking down Adams and Wright.”
I purposely use their last names so Schroeder knows he can stop holding his cards close to the vest. If we’re going out there to hunt these guys down, you better believe I want every scrap of information I can get my hands on. The safety of my team is at stake.
“Looks like I’m going to have to have a talk with Ewing.”
“No need. The sheriff didn’t share that information.”
“Then how—”
“Lucky guess. Now, can we get to the point of your visit?” I prompt.
I don’t like Schroeder. Either he’s a little too full of his own importance, or he’s feeling the pressure and is trying to defer responsibility. Either way, he needs to get his priorities straight.
Not happy with my less than subservient attitude, he clenches his jaw.
“We’re not entirely sure what happened but we found the van in a ditch, and the two US Marshals transporting the prisoners killed, their sidearms missing. No sign of Adams or Wright. Our dogs were able to track them along the Kootenay River to where Fisher River branches off to the south. That’s where they lost them.”
“I bet you they went into the river. The Kootenay is too deep, but it wouldn’t be hard for them to trek through Fisher River.”
I should know, the river borders the east side of my property and intersects with US-2 a mile and a half south of here.
“We figured. Unfortunately the dogs weren’t able to pick up the trail from there. We’ve explored all the mountain roads, had a helicopter flying over, but no luck.”
That doesn’t surprise me. There’s still a lot of land that isn’t easily accessible. It’s like searching for a needle in a haystack.
“I’m told your unit is good at finding people.”
“We are,” I confirm without hesitation.
“These are not five-year-old runaways, though,” he feels necessary to point out.
Prick. Guess he heard about the kid the other day.
“Neither were the insurgents we flushed from the mountains in Afghanistan,” I snap. “You’re the one looking for help. If you’re worried we’re not qualified, then why did you come?”
Now it’s Schroeder who leans forward.
“I need to find these guys.”
His voice is almost pleading. So it’s pressure making him an asshole, or maybe just a worse one.
“I can have my team and my horses at the mouth of Fisher River tomorrow morning at eight.”
“They could be gone by then.”
I snort. “That might’ve been a valid point if you hadn’t spun your wheels for days before calling us in. If you’re right, they were likely gone days ago. If not, they’re holed up somewhere and we’ll find them. Tomorrow morning at eight. We’d appreciate a briefing from your search team leaders so we don’t waste more time doing double duty.”
He nods. I look past him at Agent Wolff, who is now leaning casually against the wall, a smirk on his face. Looks like the younger agent isn’t a fan of Schroeder either.
It takes twenty more minutes to get Ama to fill out a standard contract, which I have Schroeder sign on the spot. I don’t trust him not to try and stiff us in the end.
I watch from the porch as the SUV takes off down the driveway when Sully walks up from the barn.
“Feds?” he guesses correctly.
“Get the gear ready. We’re heading out at daylight.”
Alex
* * *
“Hey, good boy. You ready for your exercise?”
Phantom rubs his nose against my coat pocket. Smart animal, knows I keep a few treats in there.
“You can have one later,” I mumble, sliding my hand under his mane to stroke his graceful neck.
He doesn’t flinch at my touch anymore, which is why I’m going to try a saddle on him today. Test the trust I built with him.
I’ve been working with him daily for a week and a half now. Normally, I’d opt to give it a bit more time before testing him, but his leg is healing nicely and from what Ama told me, his stud schedule starts the first week of May. That’s a week away. It wouldn’t hurt my reputation if Phantom would be able to go ahead as planned.
The only thing that has me second-guess myself is, for the last couple of days I haven’t seen hide nor hair of Jonas. In fact, the only guys I’ve seen around have been Dan and Toby, the young ranch hands, and Thomas, Jonas’s father. I wonder if he’d be upset if I don’t wait for him.
