Kay David - The Man From High Mountain

“Like you did two years ago?” Her eyes widened at the bluntness of his words, but he didn’t back down. He couldn’t. She had no business going out there alone. She was totally incapable of dealing with the land and its dangers. “I would think you’d know better by now.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly. “I’m well aware of the risks, but I’ve found another way to accomplish my goals. A way that doesn’t include you.”

“And that would be?”

“With Charles Karnet.”

“Karnet’s a helicopter pilot, not a tracker.”

“I know that. He’s going to fly me into the ranch and drop me off by the canyon.”

“And leave you alone?”

She nodded.

A nearby movement suddenly caught Cole’s eye, and he turned his head to see Earl Pearson. Hovering near them, beside a stack of used paperbacks, the owner of the general store was listening to every word they said. The man was harmless, but Cole didn’t like anyone hearing his business. He took Taylor’s elbow and led her a few steps away. Beneath his fingers, her skin was smooth and cool. He dropped her arm as soon as he could.

“You’re making a mistake. You shouldn’t go out there.”

Her expression became guarded, a shadow coming into her eyes he didn’t quite understand. “What are you saying?”

He ignored her question. He wasn’t sure he knew how to answer it. “Why do you want to go there so badly?”

“I explained that already,” she said. “I need closure. I can’t go forward until I put what happened behind me—”

“Can’t you do that from here? Why would you want to go back to the place your husband died? The place that holds so much of your own blood?”

Her eyes turned a darker shade of green. Behind the color was pain. “You don’t understand. If Jack had gotten some kind of justice, I might have put it to rest, but he never did. I’ve tried to forget about it, but I can’t and it’s getting worse. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I have nightmares—” She stopped abruptly and took a very deep breath. “I have to go out there. I don’t have a choice.”

Cole stared at her, his gut churning. The hell of it was—he did understand what she was saying. He understood perfectly. For some crazy reason, he’d had to visit Rancho Diablo as soon as he could after the shooting. It’d been pointless, though. The “closure” she sought wouldn’t be discovered in the desolate stretches of the ranch any more than his had. The only difference between them was he knew it. She didn’t.

He tried once more. He had to. “You shouldn’t go out there by yourself.”

When she spoke, her voice was fierce. “Then come with me. Let me say my goodbyes the way I want to. After that, I’ll never ask you to do anything for me. I’ll leave here, and you’ll never see me again. I promise.”

If he turned his back on her and she went alone, she probably wouldn’t return alive. If he got involved and they went together, God only knew what would happen. He’d been fighting off his memories for so long, the reality of actually being with her might be too much.

One way or the other, Cole was doomed.

He glanced outside to the mountains and wondered just what kind of mistake he was making. He was afraid he knew but there was nothing that could be done about it. He didn’t have a choice, either. Gesturing toward the pile of camping equipment at her feet, he met her gaze once more. “Be at my place at five in the morning. We’ll drive as far as we can, then pack in. Count on two days, one night.” He paused. “And get rid of this junk. I’ve got everything we’ll need.”

Her emerald eyes turned warm all of a sudden. “Thank y—”

He stopped her, his callused palm held out between them. “Don’t thank me for this, Taylor. Believe me, I’m not doing you any favors.”

CHAPTER FOUR

SURPRISED BY COLE’S sudden capitulation but too happy to question it, Taylor watched him climb awkwardly into his beat-up truck a few seconds later. Through the window, she stared as he pulled away, red dust rising in a cloud thick enough to obscure his departure. When she turned around, the owner of the store was looking at her. He was a strange little man with a rounded face and eyes that didn’t quite match. As she watched, the left one twitched violently.

“I’m afraid I won’t be needing these things after all,” she said apologetically. “My plans have changed.”

The man tilted his head toward the street. “You going to Diablo with him?”

His question surprised her, but then she reminded herself that High Mountain wasn’t Houston. Everyone knew everyone else. “Yes,” she answered. “Cole will be guiding me in. He has his own equipment. You know who I am?”

He nodded. “Everybody knows who you are. We got long memories ’round here.”

“Then I guess you know I’m selling the ranch.”

His eyes narrowed, but the left one continued to twitch. “Sell Diablo?” He shook his head with a jerky rhythm that matched the movement in his eye. “That’ll never happen.”

“Why on earth would you say that? I’m sure someone will want it.”

“Never. Leastways not anybody ’round here.” He punched his lips out and shook his head. “Everybody in High Mountain knows that place is haunted.”

Stunned into silence, all she could do was stare at the man.

“Sorry to be putting it that way to you, so blunt and everything, but it’s the truth. Strange lights, weird sounds—you name it and it goes on out there. Was happening a long time before your husband even bought the place. He shoulda knowed better.”

“A-are you trying to tell me you think there are ghosts at Diablo?”

He shrugged, but wouldn’t meet her eyes, turning instead to fuss with the equipment scattered at their feet. “I don’t know nothing about no ghosts. All’s I can say is there’s something out there. That’s for damned sure.”

TAYLOR MADE HER WAY up Main, the strange words of the store’s owner rattling her more than she would have liked. Jack had never said anything about odd goings-on at the ranch, and she was sure that if he’d known, he would have told her. It seemed curious that Cole hadn’t mentioned the gossip, either.

Which was exactly what it was, of course. Taylor didn’t believe in ghosts or anything like that. She was a practical woman. There were explanations for everything, you just had to look harder for them sometimes. Her slashed tires were a perfect example. The sheriff had told her it was probably kids. A group of local teenagers had been running wild lately, and after she calmed down, she had to agree with him. It made sense.

Just like Cole changing his mind did. He’d obviously used his hip as an excuse, so there was a logical, reasonable explanation for why he’d decided to go with her. She’d been surprised, of course, not expecting her plea to really persuade him, but something she’d said had obviously hit home. And she was glad, for more than just the obvious reasons. Once they were at Diablo, maybe it would be easier to hear the details of how he’d gotten them back and what had really happened. Listening to the particulars was as much of what she needed as anything—now that she was strong enough to actually do it. She would thank him, too, for everything he’d done.

Reaching the bottom of Main Street, she turned right and walked the final few blocks to the log cabin that housed the Realtor’s office. It sat on the end of the street, all alone. Jim had said the papers might be ready today. If she was going out to the ranch with Cole, Taylor would just as soon have everything taken care of before she left.

The office was empty when she pushed open the door, but a voice answered the bell that had softly announced her arrival. “Be right there. Hang on...”