Deadly Intent: Book Two In the Spirit Savers Series

Chapter One

Where Are the Cowboys?

She heard the low rumble of a pick-up truck coming up behind her and stepped off to the side of the road. Over the past few hours exactly two other cars had passed, both had been pick-up trucks. Josie was out of her element and she’d definitely picked the wrong road to travel. Wasn’t the first time.

Hearing the truck slowing, Josie’s fists clenched. She didn’t have a damn thing on her to use as a weapon, but she had a good right hook. Or at least one that might buy her some time. Time for what, she didn’t know. She peered down the road looking for something, anything or anyone to help. In the middle of a mountain valley, there was nothing in sight as far as she could tell - just fields and fields of grass and weeds. This was supposed to be ranching country. Where were the cows? The cowboys?

The car slowed beside her. Turning, she did her best to face them with confidence. Inside Josie’s heart pounded a lonely and frightened beat. Alone on a long stretch of road in the middle of Colorado – not a safe place to be should someone decide to pull some shit.

A young boy with tanned skin and black hair hanging in his eyes leaned out the window of a dirty white pick-up truck. Necesita un paseo? You need a ride?

No thanks. With the glare of the setting sun splashing on the windshield, she couldn’t see the driver. It made her nervous not knowing what she was up against. At least in New York Josie had known what she was dealing with. Out here she felt like a penguin in the desert – no idea where to turn or who to trust.

You sure? The boy looked back at whoever was in the driver’s seat and nodded. Josie watched as the driver’s side door swung open. The truck rocked as the person climbed out. A short curvy woman came around the front of the truck and into view. Josie relaxed. The woman’s hair was piled up into a giant bun on the back of her head. A pale blue polo was tucked into her jeans which pulled tight across her hips and didn’t quite reach the tops of her worn tennis shoes. Mom jeans. Josie met her eyes and saw genuine concern.

Hi, the woman said. It’s a long way to town and you’re not on safe land here.

Not on safe land? She looked at her feet. Was the ground going to open up and swallow her whole? What do you mean?

This, both sides of the road here, she swung her arms wide and pointed, is owned by WR Reynolds.

So? Josie knew she sounded sarcastic, but really who cared who owned the land. She was parked on, and walking on, a public road.

So he employs some folks I wouldn’t want to come across at night on a long stretch of deserted highway.

Oh. Okay, she thought. That made sense. It’d be like walking alone at night in Brownsville or Hunt’s Point. Some New York neighborhoods missed the Mayor’s safety memo. Criminals stuck together and when they spotted a victim, well, you wanted to be anywhere but there. Josie looked at the sun leaning hard on the horizon. It would be dark soon.

Where you headed?

King’s ranch. Got a job.

Jasper King?

Yes. He owed her aunt a favor and since she needed to hide from her ex for a while, getting out of dodge, aka New York, had seemed like a good idea. Of course being in the mountains during the winter probably wasn’t going to be peachy. It was the first of November and the air already held a bitter chill.

His ranch is a good thirty miles from here. Look. I’m assuming that’s your Honda about four miles back. Right?

Yes.

Okay. Then I can take you back to your car. You lock the doors and I’ll call road service to come pick you up. Or, you can come with me. I’m heading over to Brightstreet Ranch. It’s about five miles up the road. Noah owns the land between Reynolds and King. You can’t stay at the main house, he don’t like visitors, but you can stay in the stables.

Josie shook her head. She’d rather sleep in her car than with a bunch of horses.

It’s heated. You’ll be safe and left alone. No one goes there since…Well no one goes in there. There’s even a fridge and a microwave. I’ve got some dinner in the truck for Noah. He won’t miss a bit if you’re hungry.

Upon the mention of food Josie’s stomach growled. Shit.

There’s a phone in the stables too. It’s a nice place. You can call road service. Tell ‘em where your car is and tell ‘em you’re at Noah’s. They’ll bring your car to you when it’s ready.

Josie realized she didn’t have many options. If she could hide on this guy’s property for a night, that’d be better than sleeping in her car. Okay. Thanks.

The lady nodded back to the young boy who opened the truck door. Josie slid into the truck beside him.

I’m Rosalie, she said, hoisting herself back into the driver’s seat. This here is Juan.

I’m Josie.

Well, Josie. How’d you end up in the middle of Routt County on foot?

Thought I’d take a short-cut to the ranch. I’m from New York. Didn’t realize that you could drive a hundred miles out here and not see a town or a gas station.

Whatcha doin at Kings?

Hiding. Whatever he needs me to do I guess.

It’s safe to assume you’ve never worked on a ranch before?

Never been out of New York.

No cell phone?

No service. She’d tried calling road service. It didn’t work. She’d even climbed up on top of her car to see if she could get a signal. That’s what you got when you bought your phone at a gas station.

Ah. Well I’m going to tell you something about Jasper and working on his ranch. You listen to me because it’ll save your life. You hear?

This woman was just a fountain of warnings and advice. Josie nodded. She might as well listen. She’d gotten into enough trouble, she didn’t need any more.

"You steer clear of Jasper’s son, Jay. He’s a mean spoiled son of a bitch. He runs the ranch. If Jasper owes your aunt a favor you go straight to the source. Avoid Jay like he’s the devil himself.

Great. Thanks. I’ll do that. Geez, she hadn’t been in Colorado but a few hours and already she was knee deep in shit. Wasn’t there anywhere she could stay out of trouble for more than a day?

Rosalie turned her truck onto a narrow gravel driveway. A metal gate blocked them from going any further. She couldn’t see a house and the gate blocking their path seemed silly. It stood only about six feet tall and looked easy to climb. It was framed by wood beams. Engraved in each beam was the image of a lamp post, like an old fashioned gaslight. Above it she read the words, Brightstreet Ranch.

This here is Noah’s ranch. Juan, get the gate.

Josie opened the truck door, hopped out so Juan could get out, and hopped back in. Juan ran to the gate, pushed a few buttons on a panel and the gate swung wide. They pulled through leaving Juan behind. I’m just dropping you off and grabbing my other boy, Tonio. Juan don’t need to get in the way.

They jostled and bumped down the winding gravel road for what seemed like miles. They rounded a bend. Josie gasped. That’s the ranch? Ahead, a large mountain style home loomed against the backdrop of the Rocky Mountains. Tall snowy peaks jutted behind the house. If it weren’t for the darkening sky and heavy storm clouds, it would have been a postcard. The house looked like it must be at least five thousand square feet. She wondered how large the Macy’s in Herald Square was in New York. Then she realized that was a stupid comparison, the store was supposed to be the largest store in the world; surely the ranch wasn’t even close to the same size. Still, it was pretty darn huge.

Yep. Over there are the stables. She pointed to a long magnificent building that looked to be twice the size of the home. It was in the same rustic style. Josie had expected a barn with hay and horses, not a fancy equestrian center. Rosalie pulled around to the side of the building and turned off the truck. She turned to Josie with a serious look on her face.

Look, there’s something I wanted to tell you, but I wanted to wait until Juan was outta the truck.

Okay? Josie blinked. The tone of Rosalie’s voice made her nervous.

Noah, he is a good man, but he doesn’t like visitors. His crew is good and they won’t pay you no mind. But you gotta stay in the stables. Don’t go into the main house.

Josie shrugged. She didn’t have any intention of poking her head out of the stables. She’d lie low, get her car, and be on her way. The fewer people she encountered, the better. No problem.

Rosalie studied Josie for a moment and then seeming to take her at her word she popped open the truck door. Then let me show you around.

Josie got out and followed Rosalie around the side of the building. She opened a small door. It was dark inside. Rosalie flipped on a switch and Josie found herself in a large room. With the grandeur of the stables, Josie hadn’t known what to expect. The room was comfortable. A long couch sat in one corner with a worn coffee table in front. There was a kitchenette to her left and a television sat atop a worn entertainment stand.

It’s the staff break room, Rosalie said. There’s a hot pot and a microwave. A full refrigerator. There’s a bathroom, even a shower if you want. There are a few blankets in the closet, but you shouldn’t get too cold. The place is heated to keep Clandestine comfortable.

Clandestine?

The horse.

The horse? You mean there’s only one horse in this entire building?

Si, she said, waving away Josie’s question. "The television is here and a phone. Phone book is on the shelf. Call Smiths Road Service. Tell ‘em Rosalie sent you and tell ‘em you’re at Brightstreet’s. They should have your car gassed up and ready to go in no time. Give me the keys and I’ll drop ‘em by on my way home.

Josie dug her keys out of her pocket and handed them to Rosalie. In for a dime in for a dollar, she thought. Trusting strangers didn’t come easy for her, but she didn’t really have much choice.

Thunder boomed and the lights flickered. Storm moving in, Rosalie muttered. You got cash to pay for the gas and the service?

Josie dug a wad out of her pocket. It was all she had. She counted it quickly. I have enough. It wouldn’t leave her much, but she could wait for her first paycheck. It wasn’t like there was any place to blow her cash out here. She should have packed some books to read, she thought. It was going to be a long winter.

Okay, gotta get my kids and get dinner on the table. It was nice meeting you, Josie. You take good care of yourself.

With that, Rosalie was gone. Josie turned her attention to her surroundings. She went to the phone first figuring it was getting late and she should call the service shop before they closed. She made arrangements and found herself with nothing to do. She contemplated calling her aunt to let her know she was safely at the ranch or near it anyway, but she refrained. One wrong move and her aunt would be dead. Hyde, her ex-boyfriend, had already killed one person on his hunt for her. He’d butchered her boss and left her for dead on the floor of her gallery. Josie hadn’t liked the woman, but she didn’t deserve to die. The police didn’t know who killed her, but Josie did. It was Hyde. He was looking for her and he’d stop at nothing to find her. Josie just hoped hiding away in the Colorado Rockies was a safe place to start over.

Chapter Two

A Damn Fine Derrière

Lightening filled the room. Thunder shook the house. Noah couldn’t sleep. He didn’t need to look at the clock to know that it was around midnight. Lately, he’d been waking up every night about this time. Sometimes he could fall back to sleep. Sometimes his mind kept him awake with pointless thoughts – what ifs and should haves that he could never change. Tired of lying in an empty bed, Noah figured he’d check on Clandestine and get some fresh air. The cattle were on the far edge of the property, a few miles away. Maybe he’d grab an ATC and ride out to check on them. He tugged on a pair of jeans and pulled yesterday’s flannel shirt over his shoulders. He didn’t bother buttoning it. The horse wouldn’t care.

The house felt eerily silent as he descended the staircase. He paused in the foyer and looked back up the stairwell remembering a time when life and laughter filled his home. Noah could still see her skipping down the stairs, a wide grin on her face. He shook off the memory. She’d been gone for years now. The house was empty and that’s the way he wanted it.

Pulling the door closed behind him, Noah inhaled the fresh night air. It’d rained and the land felt clean and new. This was a good decision. Being outside always made him feel better, like a baptism that renewed his faith and his purpose. Stuffing his hands in his jean’s pockets, he started off toward the equestrian center, his heavy boots thumping in the damp earth with each step. It was good they were getting some rain. If they didn’t catch up soon, they were going to be at risk for fire. Seemed strange for November, but that’s how weather in Colorado seemed to go lately. Wet when you didn’t want it, and dry as a bone the rest of the year.

He pulled on the door of the center and found it locked. Rosalie had been the last one out of the place. She must have locked it behind her. They didn’t usually bother locking it, but he didn’t mind. He grabbed his keys out of his pocket, found the right one and swung the door open. Down the long hall on his left, Clandestine greeted him with a whinny. Stepping inside he smiled. He’d tried several times to get rid of the horse and she always managed to stay. Buyers would back out at the last minute. After several failed attempts to sell her, he stopped trying. It was as if he was supposed to remember, so that he wouldn’t make the same mistakes. Strange that a horse would outlive its owner. Hey, Clandestine, he said, giving the chestnut horse a pat on the nose. She nuzzled his hand and he couldn’t help but feel the horse understood his loneliness. Couldn’t sleep either, huh?

The center still looked and felt brand new, he marveled. Victoria had loved horses and he’d built the center for her, or rather he’d allowed her to build it. She’d filled it with the best thoroughbreds he could buy. He’d sold them all when she died. They really never served much of a purpose for him. Now it was just Clandestine in a center that could hold almost a hundred horses. The outdoor riding areas had been left to decay and he’d let go of the full time staff. As he wandered through the stables the sound of his feet hitting the tile floor echoed off of the brick walls and rafters. It was a beautiful center. It was a shame to let the place sit almost empty. Victoria had been gone five years; it was time to stop mourning his mistakes and let the place do something. He didn’t need the money, but he didn’t like waste and letting this magnificent building sit here and collect dust was waste. Maybe, he thought, he should tear it all down and get rid of the reminder. Heading out, Noah stopped. He heard humming coming from the staff room. Son of a bitch, he muttered. Who would be bold enough to hide on his property? The humming grew louder as he approached the staff room door. It was a woman and from the sound of it, she had no musical talent whatsoever. He pulled the door open and stopped in his tracks at the sight of the finest derrière he’d seen in decades. He sent a quick apology heavenward, but even the angels would have to admit that the perky ass pointing his direction was a beaut. It sure as heck wasn’t an ass from around here. Not that he’d been looking at bottoms, but the combat boots on the floor next to the black jeans coupled with her lacey red underwear screamed out of town. Ladies around here didn’t go for the biker look.

He watched as the woman wiggled her scantily clad bottom to the beat of the music piping through her ear buds. It was so loud he could hear the music, some sort of electronic dance stuff he figured by the way she was wiggling to the pumping base. She hummed as she searched his refrigerator. The light inside illuminated her in a way that would make even a celibate man rethink his decision. His imagination took over and visions of making love to that fine ass filled his thoughts. She tossed her dark brown hair over her shoulder, grabbed a beer, stood up and turned to face him. All common sense, if there was actually any remaining, left his head.

Chapter Three

You Gonna Drink That Beer?

You gonna just stand there and stare at my ass all day, Cowboy, or do you want a beer? Josie gripped the beer tightly in her hand. Searching the refrigerator for something to eat she’d felt someone standing behind her. The beer wasn’t for her, but it was the only weapon she could think of. If this guy attacked her, she’d have to swing hard. He didn’t say anything. Just stood there staring at her. Turning to face him, she gripped the neck of her beer so tightly she thought it might snap. At almost six feet herself, he topped her by a good six inches, but he wasn’t bulky. This guy, judging from the abs and chest on display thanks to an open flannel shirt, was a guy that worked with his hands. Probably a ranch hand, she thought. That could mean trouble. She’d have to disarm him somehow. He looked older than her and rough around the edges, like he’d seen some hard times. She tossed the beer in her hands at him. He caught it without dropping his gaze. Her heart skipped a beat. The stare was intense and it was scaring her a bit. She should have known better than to take off her clothes. Just because Rosalie told her she’d be undisturbed didn’t mean she should go and make herself vulnerable. In a tank top and her undies, she was practically naked. Her momma taught her to listen to her instincts and right now they were telling her that she was in a world of trouble. She casually reached into the refrigerator and grabbed another beer. Her phone was in her jacket pocket lying on the floor by the couch. She could casually walk over and get it. She could call the police, but she’d rather not. Hopefully she’d be able to talk her way out of this and stay out of the public eye. She didn’t need her ex finding her because she filed a police report. You gonna open that?

Not breaking his intent gaze, he popped the cap off the beer with an opener on his keys and took a long slug from it. She watched his throat work as he finished the beer. He tossed it into the garbage without looking and took a step toward her. I’ve called the police, she lied, taking a step back. He didn’t know her MP3 player wasn’t a cell phone. Her rear end hit the open door of the refrigerator. Bottles clinked together. Her clumsiness flustered her.

Good. Then I can tell them you’re stealing my beer and living on my property without my permission.

His voice rolled over her like a caress, deep and smooth. It was almost enough to distract her from what he said. His property? He didn’t look like the kind of guy that would own a million dollar estate. Then again, from what she’d seen the stables outshined the main house. It was a gorgeous house, but these stables were like something out of a movie. She wasn’t sure how to play this. He was either lying about being the owner or he was the owner and she certainly looked like a thief in his eyes. Well then Mr. Owner man, she said, trying her damndest to sound brave, you should probably stock better food in your refrigerator for your guests. Heart pounding, she turned her back on him and walked over to the sink where she’d seen a bottle opener. Popping the top, she turned back to him and put the bottle to her lips. She tipped the bottle back and let the cool fluid quench her thirst. She wanted him to think she was calm, cool, and collected – like she belonged here and he was the trespasser. And she didn’t want to let go of the only weapon she could find.

Three long strides brought him within a foot of her. Taking the beer out of her hands he tipped her chin up and held her there – forcing her to look in his eyes. She