Rita Herron - The Man From Falcon Ridge

Another shot echoed from the hills and he turned, searching the distance. It was coming from the southern slope near the Hatchet House. What if Hailey decided to take a walk? It could be dangerous.

His boots crunched as he hiked toward her place. He’d have to warn her to be careful of hunters and their stray bullets.

There were other dangers for a woman living alone in the wilderness, too. Some of the men who liked to comb the hills were more predatory than the animals they hunted. They would take advantage of a woman in a second.

The scent of death floated toward him, fresh blood marking the icy path. Through the bed of trees, he spotted a buck sprawled near the creek, its tan flanks covered in blood, its once agile body deathly still. The hunter would be back to collect his kill any minute.

Trees rustled up ahead. He called out a warning, but Hailey burst through the brush, her face pale, her eyes wide in terror.

Worse, she was running straight toward the ravine.

SUDDENLY A MAN’S HANDS grabbed Hailey from behind. Panic zinged through her. She screamed and swung her arms back, struggling to free herself, but they fell to the ground in a tangle. Icy snow seeped through her clothes as she bucked upward, trying to throw his weight off of her. But his hands gripped her tightly, pinning her to the spot.

“Hailey, stop it, dammit, it’s me.”

She dug her elbows into his chest, trying to force him to loosen his grip. Instead, his fingers tightened around her wrists, pushing them into her back. The rest of his body was on top of her, his thighs rubbing hers as he lifted his head.

“Hailey, be still,” the voice growled. “It’s Rex. I was just trying to keep you from falling over the cliff.”

Hailey froze, her breath rasping out as the husky voice registered. Was Rex following her? Had he been inside her house?

No…that was impossible. She’d heard him drive away.

Rational thoughts returning, she slowly relaxed, spitting out snow. But his body was still pressed firmly on top of hers. He stiffened, and his hard sex pressed into her hip. Fear crawled up her spine, the need to escape him mounting. “You can let me go now,” she said through clenched teeth.

“All right.” His grip loosened. “But be careful. The cliff drops off to the creek about fifty yards in front of you.”

She nodded. She’d been running so fast she could have sailed over the edge. A shudder gripped her at the thought. Only the possibility of being murdered like the Lyles wasn’t any better.

Uncertain whether she’d imagined Rex’s physical reaction to her, she brushed snow and debris from her jeans, the cold seeping through the wet denim, chilling her inside and out. He helped her stand, then cradled her elbows in his hands as he turned her to face him. His breath whooshed out as he reached up and traced a finger over her lip. Uneasiness spread through her limbs. They were alone in the woods, just like she’d been with Thad. Would this man try to use force on her as her former boyfriend had? Would he turn on her in a second?

Then she realized he was wiping away blood.

His brown eyes searched her face, a frown pulling at his mouth. “What the hell were you running from?”

“S-someone was shooting at me.” She inhaled, shivering again. Beard stubble darkened his tightly held jaw, the wind ruffling the black strands of his hair and sweeping it across his forehead. He looked ominous, like a big black bear ready to tear apart anyone that stood in his way.

Then she remembered the feel of his arousal pressing into her and another feeling splintered through her—a tingle that felt like attraction.

Good heavens, no. Not now. Not to this man. Not when she was trying to put her life together. Trying to escape her past.

Remembering Thad’s control issues, she melted backward, pulling away. “Did you see him?”

“A hunter,” Rex said in a gruff voice. “He probably thought you were a deer or elk running through the forest.”

Another gunshot blasted, and she startled so badly he pulled her into his arms. “Shh, it’s all right now.”

Her breath quivered out. “No…he shot at me, he was trying to kill me.”

His black eyebrows rose, his hand automatically playing along her neck and shoulders, soothing her. “I saw a deer he killed,” Rex said. “I’m sure he mistook you for an animal.”

“But the bullet nearly hit my head, and s-someone was in the house when I went inside,” Hailey said, stiffening. “He…left a note. He threatened me.”

“What?” He pulled her closer against him, but Hailey backed away again, hands fisted, her survival instincts roaring to life.

“When I went inside,” Hailey said, struggling for a steady breath, “someone was upstairs. They left dead gardenias on the table and a picture of the Lyles’ murder…” Her voice broke as images of the carnage flooded her.

Another shot rang out, echoing in the distance. Thankfully it sounded farther away this time. Hailey’s gaze found the cliff. A vulture soared above, swooping downward in a wide arc, its black feathers stark against the aquamarine sky, its talons bared as it zeroed in on its target. Just seeing the bird reminded her all too much that if Rex hadn’t grabbed her, she might have plunged to her death below.

REX STUDIED HAILEY, his mind battling his body’s natural reaction. He’d only meant to keep her from running off the cliff, but the moment he brushed against her, his sexual instincts had stirred to life, strong and more alive than they had been in months. Hell, maybe years.

Physical arousal, he told himself. A basic human reaction, a natural animal one. But this time his senses had become skewed with the need to fold her in his arms and hold her for the night, to protect her and make promises that he couldn’t keep.

But these urges went against the free man he needed to be. Free like the falcons…

Some birds of prey are monogamous, a voice whispered.

But not him. He had no room for a woman in his life. Especially this troubled one.

Had someone really been in her house threatening her? Maybe it had been a prank…

“There was a note, too,” Hailey whispered.

The wind swirled the strands of her reddish-brown hair around her face. Her cheeks were red from exertion and cold, her lips parched from the sun and wind. She looked so damn beautiful another twinge of desire spurted through him.

“And they tacked pictures of the Lyle family’s murder on the wall,” she said, knotting her hands together. “It was awful.”

He nodded. He’d seen the photos, had imprinted them in his brain since he was a kid.

“Come on.” He coaxed her forward, back through the thick pines and aspens, up the rocky hills toward Falcon Ridge. “You’re freezing, we need to get you inside.”

She stiffened. “Where are we going?”

“To my place.” He grabbed her arm again and hauled her close to him, lowering his voice. “If that hunter returns, we don’t want to be here.”

“But…”

“You’re not going back to the Hatchet House alone,” he growled. “I’ll go with you and check it out, but I need my gun.”

“You have a gun?”

He nodded, wondering at the streak of fear that darted into her eyes. “It’s for protection. You should get one, too.”

Her breath glowed white in the air as she nodded and stumbled forward, trying to keep up with him. He slowed his pace to accommodate her, pushing the loose branches and bramble out of the way so they wouldn’t scratch her delicate face as they threaded their way back up the mountain.

He’d never brought a woman to Falcon Ridge before, never shown one his home. He wondered what she’d think of it.

A few minutes later, they stepped onto the portico of the stone structure, and he opened the massive front door and ushered her inside. She was trembling, the temperature outside having dropped ten degrees in the last hour. The frightening ordeal had obviously drained her, because her shoulders were beginning to slump, and her flushed face paled with exhaustion.