The image sent the night reeling, the moon spinning, his heart pounding through his veins. He’d wanted that mountain lion, had been looking so hard for it that a part of his brain had assumed that was exactly what she was. Fear blazed into anger. “You’re crazy, walking out here on your own.”
Her shrug dismissed his worry like it meant nothing. “I’ve spent most of my adult life outside, on my own.”
She reminded him of how little he knew her now. And how well he once had.
“I could have shot you,” he blurted out, not in control, not able to decide which of the words, dislodged now and tumbling through his head in a landslide, he should actually say out loud.
He could hear the shaky breath she drew. “Do you wish you had?”
“What?” Aghast, he took a step closer. “No. Never. I’m not a murderer.”
As soon as he’d spoken the word, he froze. Murderer. He’d called Maya that the last time he’d seen her. He’d been called that himself, a few times since. And the irony wasn’t lost on him. She hadn’t been a murderer, hadn’t even been guilty. But he probably was.
Of course the military shrink had told him different. But Caleb had made mistakes in Afghanistan that he couldn’t forgive. He’d hoped to leave them behind now that he was home for good, but he hadn’t known then that regret had no borders. How things you put aside in the daytime ran rampant in your mind at night. Another reason he was out on the trail tonight. It was easier out here, hunting, protecting his livestock, than tossing and turning, desperate for sleep, even while dreading the dreams that sleep might bring.
“I don’t wish you harm, Maya.”
She huffed out a shaky laugh. “Well, seeing as we’re alone out here, and you have a gun, I’m glad to hear it.”
“I’m after a mountain lion. It’s been killing my sheep.”
She stilled then—nothing he could see, but something he could sense.
“Really?” She gave a strange little hollow laugh. “Well, isn’t that just perfect?”
Her sarcasm baffled him. Then he remembered what she’d said moments before. That she was with the Department of Wildlife.
“I have a permit. A depredation permit. To kill the lion.”
“I’ll need to see it.”
It was like looking into a twisted carnival mirror, where nothing was as it seemed. Maya, on a trail near his ranch, in the middle of the night. Maya, suddenly sounding official and asking for his paperwork. Which, of course, he didn’t have with him.
Not for the first time, Caleb wished he’d reenlisted. Just stayed in the Marine Corps forever and never come back to Shelter Creek. Home, ranching...it was supposed to be simple. But every day brought a new complication. “I left the permit back at the ranch.”
She sighed as if she couldn’t believe his incompetence. “Okay. Well, please don’t shoot anything until I’ve seen that permit.”
It was sinking in now, this bizarre situation they were in. “Let me get this straight. You’re in charge of permits? I have to answer to you if I need to shoot a mountain lion?”
“I’m the temporary field biologist for this area, in charge of wildlife management, among other things. So, yes, you’ll need to clear the use of that permit with me.”
Her words filtered through his denial. “You can’t be serious.”
She sounded resigned. “I’m afraid I am.”
“I never thought I’d see you again.” The words tumbled out, rough and raw. He’d loved her. So damn much.
A pained smile twisted the corner of her mouth. “Don’t worry. Once I know for sure that my grandmother is doing well, I’ll leave. This job is just a temporary position for the summer.”
It was probably rude to feel so much relief. She had every right to be here, and if her grandmother needed her, then she should be here. But it didn’t mean he wanted Maya anywhere near him. All they could do for each other was bring up old hurt and brutal memories. And feelings. So many damn feelings that his throat burned with them, like they wanted to be shared, needed to be shared. But how could he? It was all so long ago. The damage he’d done had solidified into concrete. Had become the foundation on which they’d both built new lives.
He wanted to go, to retreat, to put at least a few miles between them. He took the first steps away. “Well, good luck with your grandmother. And the job.”
“I’ll need it.” Her mouth hinted at a wry smile. “Especially because Grandma is as stubborn as ever. And because I have to try to help ranchers like you with predator management.”
He couldn’t work with her. “I don’t need any help. A mountain lion killed my sheep. I have the right to shoot it. End of story.”
Maya made no sign that his tone bothered her; instead her voice remained steady and calm, like nothing about this meeting or this conflict shook her. “There are new regulations in place. You have to try to manage predators without harming them. Shooting is a last resort now.”
Worry settled cold in Caleb’s stomach. He couldn’t afford to lose one more animal. “What do I have to do?”
“Well, it depends on what you’re already doing. We can talk more about it when I visit your ranch.”
“Visit my ranch?” Caleb ran a hand over the film of sweat that was coating the back of his neck despite the chill night. Maya on his ranch. Maya seeing how run-down and ruined it was, how low he’d ended up. “Why do you need to visit my ranch?”
“To see where attacks have occurred. And to figure out how we can prevent any more of them.”
We? There could be no we here. “What do you know about ranching?” He was being rude, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want a visit. Didn’t want help. Didn’t want anything to do with her. Already he felt the pull, like she emitted some kind of memory-inducing pheromone that allowed him to see their past so clearly. Maya laughing by the swimming hole, water droplets clinging to her tanned skin. Maya riding these hills, next to him, reaching her hand out for his. Each image crystal clear, each memory so good.
Until it had all gone so bad.
She was silent for a moment, as if gathering up her next arguments. She’d always been stubborn, and it seemed like that hadn’t changed.
“Look, Caleb. We both know I’m not a rancher. But I know a lot about wildlife management and predator-prey relationships. So I’ll probably have some useful advice.”
He caught the edge of frustration in her voice. He was being a jerk, but maybe that was okay if it would help keep her from coming out to his property. He didn’t want time with her. Didn’t want to face everything he’d lost when he’d told her to leave. “We shouldn’t even be around each other.”
“Trust me—I was hoping to avoid you. But here we are.” She gestured around them, at the trail, at the night, in a sort of helpless way. Like their meeting was a fate she didn’t want but had already accepted.
Caleb didn’t want to accept it. Because he was already torn, wanting her to stay away and wanting to see her again. Because she was Maya and no one had ever made him feel the way she had. Even now, here, arguing, he felt some part of himself wake up, like it had been sleeping all these years, dormant. Waiting.
Maya reached for her pack and swung it up onto her back in an effortless motion. Though how someone so tiny could carry that much gear was beyond him.
“I’m going to be hiking out here for the next couple of days. I’ll stop by your ranch later in the week to talk about your options. How about Thursday?”
“Thursday,” he repeated stupidly. Because the whole idea that he and Maya were standing on this trail, in the middle of the night, making plans, was surreal. He didn’t want plans, didn’t want her help, and he opened his mouth to tell her, but she was already talking.
“Until then try not to shoot any lions. If you need to scare them off, blow a whistle. Bang a few pots and pans. Spray water. Get creative.”
Before he could answer, she gave a little wave, like they’d just run into each other on the street or something. Then she walked off into the darkness as if it was perfectly normal for her to head out into wild places, by herself, at night.
Maybe it was. He didn’t know her anymore. Not at all.
Caleb listened to her footsteps until they faded to nothing and she became just another part of the ghostly moonlight. Like she hadn’t been real. Like she’d never been here at all.
Except she was real. And when she showed up at his ranch, there’d be no hiding the mess there. She’d see it all. The leaning fences, the overgrown fields, the ruined barns, the neglected house. The visible evidence that his family had shattered beyond repair, on the night Maya drove into a tree and killed his sister.
CHAPTER TWO
CALEB THREW A dollar tip on the bar and took a gulp of his second beer. Dex’s Alehouse was busy for a Tuesday night. The usual customers crowded around the beat-up dartboards and pool tables. Ranch hands, workers from the vineyards, mechanics and store clerks—the regular folks of Shelter Creek—all showed up here.
Most of the town’s wealthier residents would be over at the new craft brewpub, or one of the wine bars that had opened up in Shelter Creek over the last few years. Change was coming, courtesy of better roads and direct flights from Los Angeles to the nearby city of Santa Rosa. Ranch land was being plowed under for vineyards. Big tasting rooms and cute inns were drawing weekend tourist crowds.
If he could, Caleb would pick up the whole town and move it a few hundred miles north, away from all the tourists. He’d keep it small and simple, just the way it had always been. Dex always said that Caleb lived in the past, and maybe that was true. So far the present hadn’t shown him much to get excited about.
Except now Maya was back. Though that wasn’t exciting. It was so many feelings, he didn’t even have words for them all. The combination was irritating, like a horsefly that kept buzzing around his head no matter how many times he slapped it away.
Why the hell did she have to be so...so Maya? Even on a dark trail, with a huge backpack on her back, she’d been achingly familiar. The flashlight had caught her long brown hair, woven into braids, the way she used to wear it when they went riding or did stuff around the ranch. He’d seen the shadows below her cheekbones and the light in her eyes.
He’d thought he’d never have to see any of that again. Figured it was for the best. Whatever had been between them was in the past. Separated from the present by the massive chasm of his sister’s death in Maya’s car.
He’d raged at Maya after the accident. Raged and blamed and thrown his grief like grenades, destroying everything they’d had.
Still, somehow, last night on the trail, there’d been this thread, this connection. A tenuous glimmer of remembered love and shared pain that had linked them together.
He hadn’t felt linked to anyone since he’d said goodbye to the guys in his platoon and left for home. And even those connections had been different. Camaraderie. Teamwork. Friendship.
What he’d felt last night was far more confusing. A vague sense that, on some deep level, she knew him and he knew her. And even if what they knew about each other contained so much that was bad, it still made him feel less adrift.
He practically lifted his hand to swat that last thought away. Darn horsefly.
Where was Jace? He’d talked his buddy into meeting him here, hoping his old friend would lighten his dark mood. He needed the distraction. He couldn’t stand here thinking about Maya for another second.
Caleb pushed his way through the crowd and wrote his name on the chalkboard near the pool tables. Then he leaned on the wall to watch the play. A guy he didn’t recognize lined up his cue to take a shot. He was going for the eight ball, and no way was he going to make it. Caleb bit back the urge to help him out and watched him miss instead. Watched his friend clap him on the back in triumph and go on to win the game.
Winners and losers. Life had clearly defined boundaries about that. And Caleb knew which category he fit into. He’d tried to come to terms with losing everything. Tried to be okay with wanting nothing more than a clear deed for the ranch and a few beers at the end of the day.
Ever since he’d come home from Afghanistan, he’d tried to believe it was enough.
Glancing toward the door, Caleb spotted Jace heading for the bar, well-dressed as always, in dark jeans, polished boots and a plaid Western shirt. The former bull rider had been a total ladies’ man on the circuit, and he still dressed the part.
Glancing down at his own worn black T-shirt with the feed company logo chipped and faded across the chest, Caleb figured he had a ways to go in that department. Which was okay by him. Women wanted things he couldn’t give. Money. Stability. Fun.
There were a few empty tables, and maybe he should grab one, but Caleb was too wired to sit. He’d been fired up ever since he’d run into Maya last night.
She was coming by his ranch to give him advice on Thursday. That was rich. His townie ex-girlfriend had gone off to college to become an expert on ranching? She had the authority to tell him not to shoot the mountain lion that threatened his sheep?
He drained his beer. When he’d finished, Jace was just a few steps away. “You look like hell.”
Caleb set his empty down. “Glad to see you too. I wasn’t sure you’d get away from the rug rats tonight.” Jace was the brand-new foster parent for his nieces and nephew, and he had shadows under his eyes to prove it.
Jace smiled wearily. “I just hope they’re not tearing up the place. Carly said she’d get them to bed on time, but I have my doubts.”
“Well, from what you’ve told me, Carly is used to being responsible for the other kids.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she likes it.” Jace took a gulp from his beer, like he had to fortify himself just to think about his fifteen-year-old niece. “Teenage girls are scary.”
“Well, scary or not, I’m glad she took over tonight. It’s good to have you back in town.”
“I won’t have a lot of time for bars, but you’re always welcome to stop by. Come for dinner. Though I can’t promise much. My cooking skills are still pretty hit-or-miss.” Jace grinned. “Mostly miss.”
Caleb tried to meet his friend’s smile. He should be going by, should be helping Jace out. But the whole family thing made him uncomfortable. What would he say to a kid? What would he talk about at a family meal? His own family had fallen apart after Julie died—his parents had split up and first Mom, then Dad, had left town. It had been over a decade since Caleb had sat down to a family dinner.
“Have you heard anything about your sister’s trial? Is she really in jail for the long haul?” Caleb still couldn’t believe it. Jace’s older sister, Brenda, had always seemed so sophisticated and smart. Then she’d gotten hooked on drugs and started a relationship with her dealer.
Jace leaned on the wall beside him. “Twenty years for drug manufacturing, distribution, weapons, all kinds of stuff. On top of neglect of her kids.”
“That’s rough. How are the kids doing?”
“Let’s just say it’s an adjustment period for all of us.” Jace took a long pull of his beer, then swiped a sleeve across his mouth in a careless gesture that spoke reams about his state of mind. “I just wish I’d paid more attention. Figured out what was really going on. Those kids have seen way too much. It messes with them.”
Caleb cast around for some words of reassurance. He was rusty at any kind of real conversation. The weather, livestock, the cost of feed... He could talk about all that. But he’d learned a long time ago that his own inner world contained troubles too big to share. They stopped conversations. Made everyone look miserable. So he avoided talking about anything heavy. Better to stay on the surface than drown in the depths.
He surveyed the bar, looking for a new topic. They could always talk cattle. Jace had recently purchased an old ranch, and he could go on for hours about the bucking bulls he planned to raise once he got the place fixed up.
A woman sitting at the bar looked familiar. She turned to say something to her companion, and her name hit Caleb like a blow to the gut. Trisha Gilbert. Julie’s best friend growing up, who’d been with her the night of the accident. Who’d survived.
He hadn’t run into Trisha since he’d been home. What was going on? First Maya, and now this? Was there some cruel alignment of the planets that was bringing these women back into his life? He didn’t need reminders of the accident. He had plenty, every day that he lived and his little sister didn’t.
As Caleb watched, Trisha slid off a stool and walked toward the restroom. She moved with a slight limp and Caleb wondered if that was her souvenir from that horrible night. Trisha’s leg had been broken in a couple of places.
The guy she was with—kind of a skinny, ratty-looking dude—glanced furtively around the bar, reached into his pocket, took something out and dropped it in Trisha’s drink.
“Holy hell,” Caleb murmured, taking a few steps forward. He set his beer down on the nearest table, ignoring the protests of its occupants.
“What’s going on?” Jace moved to stand beside him.
Caleb pointed to the bar. “That guy right there? He drugged Trisha’s drink.”
Cold fury flooded Caleb’s system, pressing out from inside his chest, and he was moving, shoving aside chairs and people until he was in front of the ratty man. He grabbed the guy’s collar. “What did you put in it?”
“Get off me,” the guy spluttered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I saw you,” Caleb ground out, gripping him even harder. “I saw you put something in that drink.”
“Is there a problem?” The bartender, Royce, was Dex’s nephew. Small, young, not much help in a fight.
“This guy spiked his date’s drink.” Jace handed Royce the glass. “Save that. Call the cops.”
Royce eyed the man in disgust and put the drink out of sight, behind the bar. “I’m calling.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket.
“I didn’t do anything.” The man’s whine scraped away the last shreds of Caleb’s civility. Men like this hurt women and there were too many of them out there, wreaking havoc. Older guys had gotten Trisha and Julie drunk, the night Julie died. And now this jerk was hoping to do God-knows-what to Trisha.
The idea of some guy targeting Julie, in some future that could never happen, curled Caleb’s fingers tighter around the man’s coat. “Don’t ever come back here.” Caleb pulled him off the stool, shoved him toward the door, once, twice, herding the stumbling, stammering scum.
“Back off,” the man squeaked as he crashed into a table.
Caleb grabbed the weasel one more time and hauled him out into the night.
In the parking lot, the man tried to break free, but Caleb held tight and raised his fist. Trisha could have been his sister. She could have been Julie.
Someone grabbed his hand and forced it down. “Get a hold of yourself,” Jace commanded, low and stern, wrenching Caleb’s arm behind his back. “You’ve done enough.”
The weasel saw his chance and ran for his vehicle.
Headlights lit up the night as a sheriff’s car turned into the parking lot and pulled alongside them. The window lowered to reveal the scowling face of Adam Sears, now Deputy Sears, a friend from high school. “I heard there’s a problem. And look who it is. I should have known I’d find you out here, Caleb.”
It was hard to look dignified when your buddy had you in an arm lock, but Caleb tried. “It’s that guy over there, getting into the silver pickup.”
“Caleb, were you beating on the guy? I warned you last time. No more fights.”
“I just chucked him out of the bar.” The irritation was back, several horseflies now, buzzing wildly in Caleb’s mind. Adam was wasting time while the jerk got away.
Adam shook his head like a disappointed dad. “This wasn’t your problem to solve.”
“I don’t see you solving it.” Caleb tried to break free, but Jace wouldn’t budge. “Why don’t you do your job and stop him before he drives off?”
Adam pointed toward another car pulling into the lot, lights flashing. “He won’t get far. And my job is to keep the peace. Right now that means stopping you from doing anything stupid. I don’t want you back in my jail. I don’t want to charge you with assault. So calm down. Okay?”
Breath coming in ragged gulps, Caleb jerked his head toward the silver truck. “Shouldn’t you be talking to him?”
“I will be. But I also want to talk to you. Tomorrow morning. Meet me at the diner at nine.”
“I’ve got a ranch to run.” No way did he want a heart-to-heart about his wrongdoings with Adam, who made straight and narrow look so easy.
“Just meet him,” Jace said in a low voice. “You’re lucky he’s not arresting you.” He loosened his grip, and Caleb’s arm flopped back down to his side, the blood flooding in with pins and needles.
“Fine.” Caleb’s vision was clearing, the laser focus on his quarry easing. He suddenly noticed all the people who’d followed them out of the bar. They were standing around, gaping at him. Once again, he’d provided the entertainment at Dex’s. He should start charging admission. He glared at Adam. “But you’re buying.”
“Just be there.” Adam finally turned to look at the man who’d tried to drug Trisha. The coward had his hands on the truck while the newly arrived deputy frisked him. Adam took his microphone off the dashboard and his voice blared through the loudspeaker, silencing everyone in the lot. “Okay folks, that’s a wrap. Time to go inside.”
“Show off,” Caleb muttered as Adam drove off across the lot to help arrest the guy. “Come on. I could use another drink. And we should check on Trisha.”
“Hang on.” Jace put a hand on his arm to stop him, jerking it back when Caleb whirled to face him.
“What? Are you gonna give me a lecture too? I’m pretty sure Adam will take care of that tomorrow.”
“C’mon. I’ve known you forever. What is wrong with you?” Jace looked tired all of a sudden, and Caleb remembered everything his friend was dealing with at home. He’d lost his rodeo career, his entire life, when he’d taken on his sister’s kids.
“Nothing’s wrong.” Just saying the words felt like effort. The rage that had powered him into overdrive was fading. Now even the air felt heavy, weighing down muscle and bone.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Jace mimicked. “You sound like a teenager. And I’ve already got one of those in my life. Seriously, what happened? Why are you so angry all the time?”
Where the hell to start? All the problems on the ranch that he couldn’t find the money to repair? The nightmares that stole his sleep? Or he could always blame Afghanistan, and everything that went down in that dusty hellhole.
Talking about that kind of stuff was impossible. So he’d blame the most immediate issue. “A mountain lion has been killing off my sheep. I got a permit, and last night I went out to shoot it. I ran into Maya instead.”
“Maya Burton?” Jace stared. “What was Maya doing near your ranch?”
Haunting him. A beautiful, brainy, scientist-ghost. “She’s some kind of expert on mountain lions. She said she was tracking them.”
“Sounds like she can’t be as smart as we all thought if her job involves chasing lions.”
“Maybe.” Caleb glowered, too much feeling coursing through him to appreciate the lame joke. He’d almost killed her. Almost shot her out there, on that trail. “She wants to come by my ranch and tell me how to keep them away.”
Jace blew out a breath. “That doesn’t seem like a great idea. You could tell her you’d rather not.”
“Trust me, I tried. But there are new laws, and apparently listening to her is one of them.” But there was more. Maya wasn’t the only reason to lose it. “Then Trisha tonight...well, it felt almost like someone was trying to hurt Julie.” Caleb ran a hand through his hair, trying to bring his thoughts into some kind of order. “Coming home, being on the ranch, seeing Maya and now Trisha, it just brings it all back.”
