Unbridled Trails Read online

  The bartender watched the man beside her. But while Sherri should’ve been flattered, she was still more tired than anything. Did she need someone to date? She wasn’t exactly interested in romance or being wooed. She sipped her drink.

  Not that the snake-charmer next to her was someone she’d ride into the sunset with.

  Avoiding the man beside her and his creepy gaze, Sherri glanced around the interior of the dim bar. Neon signs blazed beside old fashioned pictures framed in contemporary styles. Tall wooden backs separated the booths that lined the wall and standard rectangular tables manned the center of the room. A jukebox with CDs inside pulsed softly from the corner opposite the door.

  An arresting man claimed a chair with the dominance of a well-fed mountain lion. He leaned his arm on the table beside him. His bright blue eyes watched her. He was more what she imagined her type to be – a brooding Mr. Darcy with a cowboy hat curved at the brim and a jawline tense with displeasure.

  He didn’t come her way or show any interest. Or show anything much beyond irritation. He nonchalantly left his ankle crossed over his knee, while giving off the aura that he was ready to pounce. On her? She couldn’t be certain.

  Still the salesman sat beside her, chattering like she didn’t need to participate in the conversation.

  She sipped more of her drink, the cold tartness a welcome relief after the increasingly let-down day.

  Nodding at random points in the one-sided conversation, Sherri glanced again at the man sitting at the table. The intensity of his gaze brought goosebumps to her arms and she shivered. If she tried hard enough, would she be able to get him to interrupt? Probably not. The man beside her settled onto the stool beside her, essentially laying claim to the spot.

  Great. Not what she wanted. And now, the man with the eyes probably wouldn’t approach her, thinking she was taken or something.

  Couldn’t she get any of the good ones?

  Chapter 2

  Kyle

  Kyle wasn’t going to sit idly by while the reputation-ruining jerk destroyed another innocent woman. Guy Lansing prowled the watering holes like a dang predator, out to claim the least likely to protect herself.

  He watched as Guy approached the trio and snagged onto the lagging friend on the end. The droop to her shoulders and the slouchy way she hung onto the bar suggested she was either already on her way to drunk or dejected in another manner.

  Guy would pick up on that like a coyote after the weak or old. He had those predator instincts.

  Hadn’t Kyle known that already with Ruby’s experience?

  He curled his fingers tight to his palm, cutting his short nails into the fleshy part. No matter what, Guy wouldn’t be allowed to take advantage of another girl against her will. At least if Kyle had anything to say about it.

  Kyle watched the pair as she glanced his way. He couldn’t help studying her.

  She was exactly the type of girl Kyle tried to stay away from. Her doe eyes and soft hair held more appeal than any girl with heavy makeup and tight clothing could. Her curvy figure couldn’t hide beneath her long sweater and jeans. She was more temptation than Kyle needed.

  Maybe just once he wouldn’t play hero – there might be more involved than just stopping a predator from making another victim. He needed to focus on continuing his plans for revenge. Jareth thought he was taking the big brother thing a little far, but then again, Jareth hadn’t seen Ruby the morning after or taken her to the doctor a few weeks later.

  Jareth wouldn’t understand – because Kyle hadn’t told him everything.

  The woman at the bar half-shrugged at Guy and looked toward her friends who motioned toward the bathrooms and got up to leave her for a moment.

  Kyle couldn’t make out faces in the darkened interior or from his angle of seating. The woman nodded, her shoulders slumping more.

  Guy claimed the opportunity with her back turned and put something into her drink, stirring it with his finger.

  Kyle had seen too much now not to be involved.

  She didn’t deserve that. No one deserved what Guy planned.

  Motioning to the waitress that he wanted his check, Kyle stood to pull his wallet from his jeans. With one eye on the pair, Kyle paid his small tab, but the waitress dropped her tray, money falling to the floor.

  Bending, Kyle swept the bills onto her tray and stood again. He retrained his gaze toward the couple. Alarmed, he stepped in that direction, his hand outstretched.

  The girl was already sipping from her drink. Guy watched her hungrily and glanced past her for her friends every few seconds.

  Normally, Kyle set up some kind of interruption with whichever bartender was on to get the girl away without Guy knowing Kyle was involved. But this time, he hadn’t acted fast enough. And he didn’t know that particular bartender since they’d never been in Colby before. Sure, they’d skirted Taylor Falls and half the other towns in Clearwater County, but Colby was a new one.

  Alarmed, Kyle rushed the final distance to the woman’s side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders for the potential need for support. “You okay, darlin’?” She smelled more like citrus which was a refreshing change from the musty odor of the bar like spilled alcohol and stale peanuts.

  She glanced up at him, her brown eyes more like caramel than the dark chocolate he’d envisioned. Nodding, she blinked as her eyelids drooped. “Yes, thank...” She sagged against him, her weight pushing on his chest.

  Training his steely gaze on Guy, Kyle lifted his chin. “Working on your next victim, Guy?” He didn’t let the woman go. If he did, she’d certainly collapse to the floor.

  The thin man jerked back, his sunglasses slipping from his nose to dangle from one ear while he lifted his hands like a shield. “Darby. What are you doing here? I thought you were up around White Fish this season.” H said the last with accusation in his tone.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, worthless weasel.” Kyle glared at the man who shifted his gaze between his female target and her would-be rescuer.

  Guy’s worry turned to smugness. “Oh, I see. You want to claim her. You’re letting me do all the work and you swing in to reap the benefit. I get it. Okay.” He winked and leaned forward, punching Kyle on the upper arm. “Next time, I’ll find a duo for us to share –” He yanked backwards at the anger simmering in Kyle’s growl.

  “I‘m going to follow you everywhere. I’ll be at every bar, at every party you go to. You might not be able to see me, but I’ll be there, watching you.” Kyle’s voice rumbled from deep in his chest with unrequited fury he struggled to maintain. “If this happens again, I’m going to find a place to put your body where no one will ever think to look.”

  Kyle thrusted his jaw toward the door, everything in him demanding that he lay into the snake but the gentleman in him refused to drop the woman. “Go on. Git.” Guy didn’t even take the time to scowl before scampering out the exit like a dog with his tail between his legs.

  “Thanks, man. I had my suspicions, but nothing concrete. This is the fourth time he’s been in here this week.” He slid a bottle of Moose Drool, a dark huckleberry ale, across the bar to Kyle. “This one’s on me.”

  Leaning his head to the side, Kyle peeked at his current damsel-in-distress. “Thanks, I appreciate it. Wait a minute. Is she sleeping?”

  Her light brown hair hung across her face, softly moving with the puffs of air from her nose as she breathed.

  “’Appears so.” The bartender tapped the counter. “The other two spilled something. They should be right back. This one drove her own rig from what they were saying. You look familiar, you one of them Trails working out at the Jonesy ranch?” He moved as if to round the counter, motioning to the four people at the end of the bar who walked up to order.

  “Yeah, I’m standing foreman.” Kyle nodded, his hat dipping and lifting.

  Nodding, the bartender pulled open Sherri’s small purse dangling from her shoulder and dug until he produced a small ring of keys. “Can I help you
get her outside?”

  Kyle glanced at them then back at the girl. “Nah, it’s okay. What color is her car?”

  Passing the keys to Kyle, the bartender arched an eyebrow. “Color doesn’t matter. It’s the only Nissan for miles around.”

  Nissan, huh? What was wrong with a Ford or Chevy? Nothing wrong with Dodge either – heck, at least you could trust a Dodge owner. You didn’t have to agree with their obviously wrong choice but at least you could trust ‘em.

  “Thanks. I can do it. I’ll be back in a bit.” He hefted her into his arms, her solid form fitting against him like they’d been created to match up.

  The bartender slapped the counter twice. “I’ll tell her friends you got her out of here so they don’t worry about her.”

  Only he couldn’t ignore the soft scent of citronella and oranges coming off her skin. She was intoxicating and he hadn’t even spoken to her.

  Leaning backwards a bit, Kyle carried her through the doors, pushing with his hips to get out and took less than a moment to locate the shiny Nissan pickup in the parking spot along the street.

  Close to the bar. Perfect. He started toward the side of the truck. Beside the driver side door, he allowed her feet to carefully slide to the ground to help rest some of her weight on the floor. He opened the door and shifted her inside.

  Movement caught his eye from across the street and just outside the circles of light cast down by the streetlights Guy waited. His beady eyes glinted as he moved. He watched Kyle. Or was he watching the girl to see what would happen?

  Kyle glanced at the building. Did he take the chance to dart inside and tell her friends? Or would it be better to get her out of there and somewhere safe before coming back and getting her friends? The bartender had assured him he’d pass on the information. Kyle would have to trust that he would.

  His gaze darted to where Guy had hidden in the shadows. Kyle’s worry mounted as he realized he had no idea where Guy had slipped off to.

  Everything was going to crap. Nothing was sticking to routine. Kyle never had this kind of trouble trying to save a girl from Guy. Why now? Why today?

  The sudden disappearance of the rapist worried Kyle enough to push away his need to tell her friends and just get her the hell out of there.

  Kyle would have to call his brother and let him know he didn’t need a ride back from Colby. Knowing he’d most likely have her drive him to the ranch the next day – hopefully before the wedding.

  He glanced down at her lying across his lap as he adjusted her in the bench seat. He closed the door and turned the key he’d retrieved from her small bag.

  If she didn’t wake soon to tell him where she lived, they‘d be sleeping at a camp along the side of the road. He couldn’t take her to the ranch bunkhouse and he couldn’t afford a hotel.

  Maybe he could wake her up enough to get directions to her place. Leaning down, Kyle gently shook her shoulder. “Excuse me, are you awake? Hello?” He jostled her again and sighed in relief as she fluttered her eyes open. He spoke softer, but loud enough to get her attention. “Where do you live? I need to get you home.”

  She groaned and tried lifting her hand only to have it fall to her side. “Um, I’m at the Two-Claw cabin... um... Res...” Her eyes slid shut and her breathing deepened. She mumbled, “Pretty eyes.”

  Straightening, Kyle considered her. Had she been talking about his eyes or Guys? More concerning was her description of her home. Grimly pulling from the curb, Kyle pursed his lips. That late at night on the reservation? Hopefully he could get onto the reservation without being spotted. Their circumstances were extremely suspicious and he’d have a hard time explaining things to the Redhawks.

  Hopefully, she told the truth. Kyle would hate to drive onto the reservation and have nowhere to go. That’d be guaranteed danger.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose.

  The girl was already shaping up to be more trouble than Kyle had bargained for.

  Chapter 3

  Sherri

  Had she fallen asleep with a mouthful of wood lying on her tongue? Sherri worked her throat but the slight movement combined with blinking too quickly shoved a wave of dizziness into her ears like q-tips.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, wincing at the over-sensitivity. Inhaling deep through her nose, she slowly opened them again.

  The sun wasn’t over bright which didn’t mean anything since Sherri’s bedroom window faced north. Thank Heaven.

  Sitting up, she glanced around her new-yet-to-be-used bed. She hadn’t changed, had in fact slept in the clothes she’d worn out. Wait a minute. She hadn’t made her bed either, but there she was lying on top of a comforter tucked neatly over her sheets and her covered pillow. Maybe she’d come home and made the bed? Doubtful. She didn’t remember much of anything.

  Except for the eyes. Boy, did she remember the eyes.

  Great. She’d never hear the end of it from the girls. Getting trashed wasn’t Sherri’s thing. It wasn’t any of their “thing”. So the very rare times it had happened, the person didn’t live it down for a long time.

  The tinkling of glass in the kitchen made her hang her head. She’d definitely hear about it from Rachiah. Good thing Sherri hadn’t slept in long enough to miss the wedding.

  She snapped her head up, thrusting upward from the bed and rushing toward the hall. Her nervous adrenaline pushed aside the inevitable nausea, but the headache was a new one.

  The wedding! How much time did Sherri have?

  Rubbing at her eyes, she covered the hallway with a few strides. “How long do we have? I didn’t mean to fall asleep last night. Thanks for getting me home, ‘Chiah.” Sherri stopped at the doorway to the small kitchen and dining room combo.

  Rachiah wasn’t standing at the stove.

  No, some guy with jeans and no shirt and bare feet stood with a hip against the counter, sipping a chipped mug of coffee.

  At least the fragrance hinted at coffee.

  Damp dark auburn hair fell across his forehead. “Mornin’.” His drawl was long and drawn out as he took in her disheveled appearance.

  Sherri’s mouth fell open. She glanced around at Rachiah’s closed bedroom door. “Um...” She tried not to stare at his well-defined pecs and abs and shoulders... wow, those shoulders... but it was hard.

  The play on words made her giggle. She was out of her gourd. She blinked a couple times. His eyes. They were so familiar. So blue.

  She pointed toward her friend’s door. “I’m sorry. Is Rachiah coming out soon?” One night stands weren’t Rachiah’s thing either, but from the looks of the cowboy standing in the kitchen, he’d be a strong temptation for anyone to get a new “thing”.

  He cocked an eyebrow at her and lowered his mug. “Rachiah?”

  Sherri scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You should probably know someone’s name before you go home with them, don’t you think?” She crossed to her purse lying haphazardly on the floor under the table.

  “Rachiah? Okay, third person, that’s weird but okay, I’ll play. How did Rachiah sleep? Kyle didn’t sleep so well, but Rachiah kicks a lot in bed.” He winked and smiled knowingly.

  Swinging her purse over her shoulder, Sherri screwed her lips to the side. “Ew, I don’t want to know what you two did.” She rapped her knuckles on Rachiah’s door panel, giving Kyle the once-over and continued, “Rachiah, time to get up, girl. Your date is a little creepy.”

  “Wait, you’re not Rachiah? Than who are you?” He set the cup down and crossed the linoleum floor to stand in front of her. His muscles flexed as he moved and Sherri avoided staring directly at his chest.

  Or tried to appear like she wasn’t staring. Okay, forget it. She stared, slowly dragging her gaze to his mesmerizing eyes. She cleared her throat. “I’m Sherri. Rachiah’s roommate. I don’t remember you coming home with her last night.” She couldn’t admit that she didn’t remember much of anything last night after the oily man started talking to her.

  “You wouldn’t. I came home with y
ou. Sherri.” He walked back toward her bedroom, humming as he sauntered away.

  Why did he wear it like a crown and she felt like she’d just done the walk of shame?

  Shock held her back for a split second, then she rushed after him. “Wait, what?” Not possible. She didn’t go home with random men. Even if they did look like Kyle.

  Inside her bedroom door, he bent to pick up his shirt but jerked his hand to his waist. The sudden tension in his back muscles probably held in a silent scream for how fast he recoiled to the opposite wall.

  “Don’t move!” He held his hand toward her to stop her coming into the room.

  “What? Oh my gosh, what is it?” She angled her head around his arm. Nothing unusual caught her eye. Tommy crawled across a flannel shirt thrown over a pile of boxes. At least Tommy was safe. She signed in relief. She took inventory of her unpacked room. Nothing alarming stood out to her. “What?”

  He whispered out of the side of well-sculpted lips. “There’s a huge spider walking towards us. Do. Not. Move.”

  Sherri’s eyes widened and she stared between Kyle and Tommy. The seriousness of the situation wasn’t lost on her as she ducked under Kyle’s arm. “He’s more afraid of you, than you are of him.” She leaned down and slowly coaxed Tommy onto her palm. She pierced Kyle with her gaze. “Please, don’t tell me those big bad muscles are hiding one huge baby.” She arched her eyebrows in challenge as the soft silky legs of her tarantula tickled the palm of her hand.

  Kyle’s chest moved up and down in a jerky rhythm. He held his hands to the sides, palms up. “Um, he’s going to bite you and I don’t know where the closest hospital is. You’ll be dead before we get to your truck.”

  Sherri crossed to Tommy’s cage and placed him inside with care. She replaced the lid and flipped on his sun light.

  Then she turned, unable to contain her laughter any further. “Are you serious with that? He’s a tarantula. He’s not going to bite you. Not poisonous either. Most spiders don’t have the right anatomical structuring to bite us – it’d be like us trying to bite a wall.” She giggled, still seeing in her mind how his fear had tightened his facial muscles and clenched his back like a tight rubberband.