Chapter 7

Chapter

Seven

M ac had made good time. Once Roscoe knew he could ride, the big horse settled down and was an excellent mount. Mac followed his GPS to what appeared to be a mesa of sorts. Although with the water cascading down the side, Mac figured it had to be a change in geography or glitch. What was confusing was the GPS indicated the spot he wanted was dead ahead—not on top of the land above the cliff but inside it.

He rode toward the coordinates. As they’d been making good time, Mac let Roscoe go up to the pool at the base of the cliff to drink. He was a bit surprised the roar and spray from the waterfall didn’t seem to bother the gelding. The horse was very nonchalant in his approach.

Mac sat quietly as Roscoe drank his fill. A bit dry-mouthed as well, he opened a bottle of the water he’d brought with him and drained it. Roscoe stood quietly, waiting for Mac to decide what to do.

Mac looked at the ground. He was no tracker, but he could see various tracks from wild animals, then a fresher set of hoofprints. He reached down and unsecured the rifle. It was still resting in the scabbard but could be easily and quickly pulled if needed.

He followed the tracks as they moved along the lakeshore, then stopped Roscoe as he started up the hard pack that would turn into rock. The tracks seemed to skirt the edge of the cliff, heading toward the rapidly moving water. Mac stepped down off the gelding and tied his reins to a nearby bush.

Withdrawing the rifle, Mac climbed the trail and realized it ran behind the waterfall. Cautiously, he proceeded, all of his senses on high alert. It was difficult to hear anything over the rushing water cascading off the cliff above. He hugged the wall and ensured his weapon stayed dry.

About a third of the way behind the falling water, the cliff opened up. At first, Mac thought it was a cave, then saw the light at the other end—a tunnel. Now he understood the readings he’d received on the GPS.

He crept slowly along the wall, his rifle at the ready. As he drew closer to the light, Mac could hear and sense movement beyond the tunnel’s exit. He ducked down and tried to make himself as small as possible. As he emerged, he heard a man speaking to someone who, from the conversation, was a hostage and female. It wasn’t until she spoke, Mac knew Eastwick had Willa.

Eastwick admitted to killing his wife. Mac would be able to testify to that, but his testimony would be far harder to refute if Willa was also able to testify Eastwick had confessed to her. Eastwick confessing to Willa directly meant she would be able to testify, putting the proverbial nail in Eastwick’s coffin.

Eastwick was dangerous, so Mac assumed he was armed. He glanced around the edge of the cliff to see Eastwick ogling the woman he’d made strip from the waist up. The fugitive stared at her openly, appearing distracted by the sight of Willa—beautiful and half-naked. Eastwick’s rifle was pointed directly at her.

Willa caught sight of him but gave no indication. Mac nodded toward his right/her left. Eastwick was right-handed. If startled, Eastwick would most likely twist around to his left, giving Willa a good chance to dive to relative safety. He gave her one more nod and held up his hand, showing three fingers. He folded one, then two.

As he dropped the third, she dove to her left, and Mac bellowed, “Drop the gun, Eastwick! Federal Marshal! You’re under arrest!”

As predicted, Eastwick swung around to his left and fired. The bullet slammed into Mac’s left shoulder, causing him to drop his rifle.

Eastwick made a run for his horse, managing to jump into the saddle without getting tangled up in the lead rope of the packhorse, spurring his mount forward, trailing the packhorse behind and coming straight at Mac. Before he could react, the fugitive galloped past him, kicking him in his wounded shoulder and sending a flare of agony through it. Mac hit the ground, rolling out of the way. Before Mac could recover, grab his gun, and take aim, Eastwick had disappeared into the tunnel.

“Shit!” Mac turned to see Willa scrambling to her feet, heading toward him. He wondered if she had any idea how beautiful and incredibly sexy she was.

“Oh my God, Mac! Are you all right? Are you hurt? What a stupid question. Of course, you’re not all right. You’re hurt. You’ve been shot. Here, let me help you over to my camp chair, and I’ll see what I can do for that wound.”

She’d grabbed her shirt as she ran toward him, but instead of putting it on, she wadded it up and pressed it hard into his wound, causing him to wince.

“I’m sorry, I know that’s gotta hurt, but I want to slow or stop that blood.”

Mac was impressed by her calm demeanor. As much pain as he was in, it was still all he could do to resist reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear or to pull her close and murmur that as long as they were together, everything would be just fine. God, he’d missed her. He hadn’t even known until right this minute how much.

“Are you all right?” he managed to ask.

“Me? Absolutely. A little grittier than normal, and certainly a lot less dressed than I would like to be, but I’m fine.”

Willa led him to the camp chair and helped him sit, then hurried into her tent and came out with first aid supplies, several bottles of water, and one of tequila. After putting it all down next to him, she walked past him and picked up her bra, keeping her back turned as she put it on.

Mac’s cock twitched. He’d much rather she’d tended him as she’d been. He realized that was no way to think of a lady, but his dick reminded him, he wasn’t necessarily a gentleman, and she had a spectacular rack. He grimaced as she put on a t-shirt she’d also brought out with her.

“Okay, let’s see what we’ve got.”

Willa pulled her makeshift bandage away from his shoulder and helped him out of his shirt, then took the bottled water and poured it into the wound to clean it. The procedure hurt less than he thought since the water was so cold. Next, she wadded the T-shirt up and pressed an unbloodied side against his injury.

She pieced his shirt together before pronouncing, “Hmm. This isn’t good. It looks like it entered here, but I don’t see an exit wound. Most of your shirt is intact, but they’d better check for threads when they dig that bullet out.” Opening the first aid kit, she dug out sterile gauze, packing, and bandages, then removed the T-shirt he had been holding in place and again drenched the area with water.

She held up the bottle of tequila. “I’m afraid this is going to hurt.”

Before he could react, she doused the open wound with the tequila. Mac focused on being close to her again to keep from crying out. She quickly pressed the packing against his shoulder and used the elastic bandage to secure it in place and keep the pressure on.

Mac had to admit she’d done a fine job. The wound was still bleeding, but not at a rate he’d be in danger of losing too much blood before he could be transported to a hospital. She’d been as cool as a cucumber up until now, but as the immediate crisis faded, her calm fa?ade crumbled, her hands trembling.

He needed her to hold it together for a little while longer. He smiled.

“The next time we have tequila together, let’s have it with nachos—my treat.”

W illa looked at him incredulously. She was falling apart, and he was making jokes? Then she smiled. That was just like Mac—he’d made the joke to relax and reassure her.

“Hey, if you don’t like the way I serve my tequila, next time, don’t come to my party.”

“We’ll have to discuss your choice of party guests at some time in the future.”

“He wasn’t a?—”

“I know.” Mac placed his free hand on hers. “Are you all right?” he asked tenderly.

“No, but I’m a lot better than I was before you crashed my party and broke it up. Thank you for that.”

“Not a problem. And you didn’t need to put your bra on. I liked the view a whole lot better before you did.”

She started to say something scathing or pithy but realized he was just reassuring her she was safe.

“I don’t normally hang out half-naked with men, but thanks.”

“Hmm, I remember a time you stayed naked when it was just the two of us.”

Willa was trying to follow his lead and lighten the mood. What was it about some people that, even in the most inappropriate situations, you found them sexually alluring? Mac certainly filled that bill. Not only was he incredibly attractive, but her mind and body remembered all too well what it was like to be with him.

“I was going to talk with you later.” He stood up and grimaced.

“I think we probably better get you out into the open and either call for a medical airlift if you have a sat phone or head to someplace where we can transport you to a hospital. How’d you find us?”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than she heard a horse trotting through the tunnel. Willa reached down and brought his rifle up, ready to fire. She smiled, then laughed when she saw it was a riderless Roscoe. She whistled, and the big buckskin broke into a lope, heading straight to them.

“Hello, sweet boy,” she said, stroking his face and kissing him between the eyes when he reached her and lowered his head. “Did that bad guy think he could run you off? He doesn’t know you, does he?”

“How’d he know to come in here?”

“Probably saw you come in, followed, then heard us and smelled the other horses. He’s a good boy, aren’t you, Roscoe?”

Standing up was an effort. He came over to run his hand down Roscoe’s sleek neck.

“You weren’t going to leave me afoot out here in the desert. I owe you one, big guy. That’s a nifty trick to teach them.”

“It’s come in handy a time or two. Why don’t you sit down? Let Roscoe have a drink while I saddle Gator, then we’ll get you mounted and to someone who knows what they’re doing to take care of that wound.”

Mac watched her walk away, leading Roscoe. She’d always had a decidedly feminine way of moving—a long, smooth stride like that of a predatory big cat, but still something that said all woman. He remembered with great fondness the feel of those legs wrapped around him when he had her on her back.

He figured he must be going into shock. He should be more focused on his people apprehending Eastwick, having his shoulder seen to, then joining them, but all he could think of was how much he liked being around her again and what a great body she had.

He’d only been half teasing when he’d said he preferred her without a bra. He’d always liked that she was comfortable in her own skin, and it had taken very little encouragement on his part for her to spend the day completely naked with him. Her breasts were generous and firm, her areolas large and dark with very delectable nipples. She nipped in at the waist, and her jeans were not able to hide, especially from his current viewpoint, that her hips flowed from there, and she had a magnificent ass.

She saddled the big gray horse, put a halter on her packhorse, and tied its lead off to the saddle horn on Gator, then led them over to her tent and disappeared inside. When she came out, she was adjusting the waist of a pair of moss-green chaps. She caught Roscoe, who’d begun to munch on what little vegetation there was in the camp area and rejoined Mac.

“Do you need help mounting?” she asked in all sincerity.

No. You and I both know, I’m the one who does the mounting, and you’re the one who gets mounted… and often. Any second thoughts he might have had about resolving things with Willa evaporated as he watched her. It won’t be too long before that happens again.

What he said instead was far more appropriate. “I think I can manage it.”

Swinging up into the saddle, he watched as she walked behind Roscoe and replaced the rifle in the scabbard, then hopped up on her own horse. Mac could scarcely keep his eyes off her shapely rear end as she did so. They headed up the small hill into the tunnel. Once inside, she reined her horse to a stop, dismounted, and pulled the makeshift gate shut.

Mac arched an eyebrow. “And you are?”

“Asking you to pretend you didn’t see that.”

He laughed. “Go get ‘em, Cowgirl. Nice to see some things haven’t changed.”

She blushed, which he thought was completely charming. He’d probably lost more blood than either of them knew since he was having a great deal of trouble concentrating on anything other than all the things he remembered about Willa.

“Give a girl a break, Marshal. After all, I wasted good tequila on that shoulder.”

He laughed. “If that’s what the good stuff felt like, I don’t think I want anything to do with the bad.”

“Sorry about that. I didn’t think I had enough disinfectant in the first aid kit to cover such a big wound.”

“It’s fine, Willa. Part of me wishes you’d never had to go through that, and part of me is damn glad you were there. You handled yourself as well as any of the guys I work with.”

“Thanks, Mac, that’s a nice thing to say. I don’t mind telling you, I was awfully glad to see you, and I’m sure your men wouldn’t have been terrified.”

“Sure, they would, but like you, they would have taken that fear, changed it to adrenaline, and used it to turn the situation around.”

They rode through the tunnel into the open where the light was plentiful, and the heat was becoming oppressive.

Mac got out his sat phone and called in their location. He asked two men who knew horses be sent out and be prepared to ride. Since he had failed to check in as agreed, his men had already put choppers in the air. They figured from their current location, they were less than thirty minutes away.

“Why the men?” she said as he disconnected. “I can pony both horses while I ride Gator.”

“I’d prefer you didn’t. Nifty little hidey-hole you have up there behind the waterfall.”

“I’d kind of appreciate it if you’d keep that information to yourself.”

“Hide stolen mustangs up there often? Did you use this place before? I worry you still put yourself at risk, taking those mustangs from people who want to profit from their deaths.”

“That’s the reason I do it. They want nothing more than money from those mustangs. They are literally worth more dead than alive. As for if I used that location often, I suppose that would depend on how you define often,” she said with a grin.

Mac shook his finger at her. “I’d forgotten how sassy you could be and how gracefully you tap danced with the truth. You were always a handful, Willa.”

He could see she was a bit unsure how to respond, so she simply allowed the awkward silence to sit like the proverbial elephant in the room. That was good. A slightly off-kilter Willa would be easier to handle. Hearing the chopper in the distance, its proximity seemed to put her at ease. They watched it land, and two of Mac’s men jumped out, along with John.

“Hey, John, look who I found,” Mac quipped.

“How the hell did you get involved with this?” John asked.

“Wrong place, wrong time. It’s been kind of a stressful morning, but I’m fine. Thanks for asking,” she answered quietly.

“Someone other than you is going to make that determination,” Mac said. She started to protest, but Mac shook his head. “No, Willa, the topic isn’t open for discussion. As you said, you’ve had a stressful morning. I’d like the medical folks to take a look at you, then I want to sit down with you and go over everything that happened. After that, you’ll have a small detail with you for your protection or at the very least, stay with John and Mandy.”

“Why the hell would I do that?” she asked angrily.

Mac rolled his eyes. He’d forgotten Willa dug her heels in at anything that felt as if someone telling her what to do. There was no time like the present for her to get used to that because he meant to tell Willa Reynolds… scratch that, Willa McDaniel what to do for a very long time.

“Let’s see… one because I’m a US Marshal, and I said so. Two because I doubt Eastwick wants to leave you alive after hearing him confess, and three because I am genuinely concerned about your well-being,” Mac said in a half-hearted attempt to mollify her.

“That’s all well and good,” she snapped, “but Eastwick is long gone. He’s not coming back for me, especially since you overheard the same thing.”

“Ah, there’s the rub. I overheard it and can testify to that, but it’s tougher to discount my having overheard it if the one he told is also able to testify. So, you see, Willa, you can either come along peacefully, or I’ll place you under arrest as a material witness.”

“You wouldn’t dare. Tell him he can’t do that, John.”

“I’m afraid he can. If Eastwick confessed to you, you’re a material witness, and he’s right. Eastwick won’t want you alive. Even if he doesn’t come after you himself, he’s bound to hire somebody to do it.” John was grinning ear to ear. Willa watched as John glanced at Mac, who seemed very pleased with himself.

“I need to take care of my horses?—”

“Gus is waiting for them at Tortilla Flats,” John interrupted.

“She may mean the mustangs she has stashed,” Mac said, careful not to mention where. “You and I both know they’re fine right where they are for a couple of months at least, but if that’s your true concern, I can order the BLM boys to go up and take them into custody.” He stepped down off of Roscoe. “John, do me a favor and help Willa off her horse. If she gives you any resistance, take her into federal custody.”

“John?”

“Come on, Willa. I’ve known him a long time, so have you. You know him well enough to know he doesn’t bluff, especially where the safety of a woman is concerned. If you don’t dismount on your own, and I refuse to pull you off because you’ll sic Mandy on me, he’ll only do it himself.”

“And since I’m incapacitated, I’ll probably use zip ties to ensure you’re properly secured until I can get you seen to.” Mac looked directly at her, then glanced over at John, whose smile indicated he saw nothing wrong with his friend’s plans to keep her safe.