Relentless Page 2

  He collected his rifle, Shade padding after him. Ghost held out his hand for the dog to sniff. Once Shade had his fill, Ghost scratched him behind the ears. “Good boy.”

  She suppressed a smile. “He’s supposed to tear strangers apart.”

  “Good. Thankfully, I’m not a stranger any longer.” He joined her, bringing his heady fragrance and incredible warmth.

  As a tall woman, few men could intimidate her with their height. Next to him, she felt positively dainty. Giddy, too. The way a shy teenage girl would react around the footfall captain. Rather than give into her emotions, she kept her cool. “I know your name, that you and Trent are friends, and you work at a protection agency. Other than those tidbits, you’re a mystery.”

  “Yeah?” He regarded her mouth then her eyes, passion again sparking within his. “What else would you like to know?”

  A man’s voice shouldn’t be that deep and soft, a dangerous combination to a woman’s good sense and heart. Before she became too lost in his gaze, she squinted at the sun. “Why do you loathe people like Victor?”

  “He’s not an easy man to take.”

  “That’s no answer, unless you know what he’s like firsthand.”

  “Nope.” He stroked Shade’s head. “Never met the guy.”

  “But someone like him hurt you and your people on the reservation.”

  Caution and sorrow crossed his face, which he dismissed quickly, returning to his calm, collected demeanor. “In a manner of speaking.”

  He didn’t want to talk about it, but she couldn’t back off. If he was going to help her, she needed to know particulars, other than him being easy on the eyes and seemingly nice. Even a prick like Victor knew how to behave in polite society until he showed his true nature. “A white rancher bothered you?”

  “No.” He glanced at the distant mountains tinted bluish-gray in the faint light. “My white grandfather who held the same worldview as Victor when it comes to minorities.” Ghost looked at her, his features hardened. “As far as Grandfather was concerned anyone who wasn’t straight off the Mayflower was a loser and fair game to exploit. His golden rule. Like I said, a difficult guy to love. Where’s your house?”

  She felt awful for having brought up bad memories and wanted to console him for what he must have gone through given his mixed heritage. The right words wouldn’t come. None would suffice for a child unwanted by their own blood and other people, the same as what she’d gone through.

  Shoulder to shoulder, they walked the distance from the pasture to Bryce’s log cabin. What he’d considered homey, but the locals referred to as Hollywood rustic. The two-story structure bore a wide porch, manicured lawn, trimmed bushes, and countless flowers.

  Shade bounded ahead.

  Nic clamped Ghost’s forearm, stopping him. “I don’t know how much Trent told you about me and my family, but we’re not typical.”

  He shrugged. “Who is?”

  She chuckled. “I get that everyone has an obnoxious Uncle Dave or crazy Aunt Carole, but Bryce and Kanti, his wife, adopted me and my mother. We’re not their blood.”

  His dark eyebrows lifted slightly. “You and your mom?”

  “She was twenty-one at the time. I was five.” Ordinarily, Nic wasn’t one to share her horrible past with anyone, but he was different. As he’d said, no longer a stranger. “She escaped her boyfriend, my father—I won’t call him a dad, he was never that. If she hadn’t fled, he would have beaten her to death then turned his rage on me. When we got to town, we were dirty and starving, looking to find anything to eat in the supermarket dumpster. The sheriff back then ordered us to leave his county. The other upstanding citizens stayed clear and glared, as if we contaminated their pure surroundings. When Bryce and Kanti left the store, they saw what was going on. They were the only ones who offered to help, giving us food, shelter, and a family. A blood bond could never be as strong as what I feel for them. So, don’t act surprised that we don’t look like each other, in the least, and don’t say anything to upset Kanti or my mother. They’ve been through enough. They don’t need to know the gory details about the cattle, just that some have died and you’re here to help find out what happened.”

  “I am. Until you tell me to go.”

  Honesty showed on his face, sincerity ringing in his voice.

  Relieved not to be alone any longer, yet unsettled as to whether she was doing the right thing, she gestured to the porch then rushed toward it.

  Chapter 2

  Ghost shouldn’t have stared at Nic’s ass but couldn’t help himself. Her firm cheeks mesmerized him, the same as her tight jeans, long legs, slender yet athletic build, and lovely face.

  She put her lantern on a step then looked over at him, her gaze questioning as to why he hadn’t followed.

  Walking wasn’t something he could do right now. He guessed her to be mid-to-late twenties, her exotic features part African American, part Caucasian, her complexion a delightful cinnamon color. She wore her wavy brown mane parted in the middle. The sun or a hair-coloring product had produced the gold-streaked locks on either side of her face, the tint matching her feathered earrings. Her eyes were surprisingly light for hazel, her mouth lush, lips begging for a kiss.

  She gave him a look. “You coming?”

  A loaded question he didn’t want to answer, considering how his dick strained against his fly, wanting out and into her sweet, heated cunt. He nodded and joined her, warning himself not to stare at her boobs.

  Too late. Her hard nipples pressed against her white T-shirt.

  She turned from him and climbed the brief stairway.

  Still reeling, he followed.

  Heavenly bacon, bread, coffee, and other breakfast scents embraced him the moment he stepped through the front door.

  “Nic?” A woman’s voice called from another room. “Is that you?”

  “Yeah, Mom.” She put her rifle on a side table. “I brought someone with me.”

  Plates and silverware clattered. “Is he or she staying for breakfast?”

  Nic gave him the once over, settling on his chest and groin, the erection he couldn’t hide. Her cheeks turned bright pink. She glanced away. “Looks like it.” She leaned toward him. “Even if you’re not hungry, eat something.” She spoke softly. “Do not hurt her or Kanti’s feelings.”

  “Never.”

  Relief crossed her face.

  He guessed she’d expected him to argue with her. What man would over something as small as making her mother and grandmother feel good?

  Her father, that’s who.

  The prick they’d escaped from.

  His initial belief about Victor causing her skittishness around men had been dead wrong. Her father started her on the road to distrust. The one man who was supposed to have protected her above all others had instead posed the greatest threat, until she and her mother arrived here. Then they’d had to contend with Victor and his deadly crew.

  Anger pulsed through Ghost at what she’d suffered over the years. No more. Victor wasn’t invincible. He was a little man owning an even smaller mind, and by God, if it took Ghost’s last breath, he’d bring him down.

  She took his hand.

  His face and chest heated, his remaining blood pouring into his groin, stiffening his cock.

  “Hey.” She edged closer and stared at his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  He wanted to kiss her until the day ended and bury his dick in her pussy clear to dawn then start over again. “Nothing.”

  “Your face is red. Either you’re pissed or you’re blushing. Which is it?”

  Rather than tell her what he’d been thinking, he opted to lie. “Neither. My complexion is always this color. Remember me saying I know Trent from the reservation?”

  “Fine. Don’t answer. However…” She released his hand and poked his chest. “If my mom or Kanti ask you anything, you don’t dodge, understand?” She flicked her wrist. “Unless it’s something they shouldn’t know.”

  He enjoyed h
er soft, melodious voice and having her close. Her fresh, light scent smelled like the air after a gentle rain. “As in the dead cattle?”

  “Exactly…and other things.”

  “Such as?”

  “I don’t know right off. But the moment a subject comes up that you shouldn’t answer, I’ll kick you under the table. Let’s go. Wait.” She stopped him before he could take a step. “No need for them to see this.” She touched his rifle.

  He delivered the weapon to her and waited as she placed it on another long table. Comfy leather furniture and brass lamps populated the space, giving the room a masculine feel softened by a female touch—a colorful afghan on the sofa, pillows boasting sage maxims. A huge stone fireplace took up one wall. The rest had floor-to-ceiling windows. Not a good thing for avoiding snipers.

  His gut twisted. Surely, Victor wouldn’t be that brazen. The cattle thing was a surprise but understandable since a story about aliens mutilating the herd could cover up his crime. But to outright kill Nic or the other women here…

  “Hey, again.” She squeezed his fingers. “What’s wrong?” She stared at the windows as he had, worry flickering in her eyes. “Did you see something strange out there?”

  “No. Do you always keep the blinds and shades open?”

  “Sure. We don’t have any neighbors who might peek in on us.”

  He cupped her shoulder, surprised at how small she felt. “Until we settle things, the moment you turn the lights on, I want you to hide this room and the other areas from the outside.”

  Color drained from her face. “Are you saying his men might shoot us through the windows?”

  “I’m asking you not to tempt fate. As soon as I pull a team together, I’ll have them set up armed patrols at night.”

  “Nic, food’s ready.” Her mother sounded relaxed and happy.

  Ghost intended to keep her that way.

  “Bring your friend in.” More plates clattered. “Don’t let your meal get cold.”

  “Go on.” He eased away from Nic and pulled out his phone. “I’ll be there in a few.”

  The moment she left the room, he called Hank. “Hey, got a thorny situation on the Caldwell ranch in Victor County.”

  Something squeaked on the other end of the line, possibly Hank’s chair. “Let me guess. That prick Hal Victor is using the Caldwell ranch to graze his cattle and claiming that’s his right?”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it, but this is far more serious.” Ghost detailed the cattle situation and Nic’s take on her grandfather’s death.

  Bryce Caldwell’s portrait hung over the mantle. He’d been a handsome man, silver streaking his dark hair, laugh lines around his blue eyes, face and neck tanned from too many days in the sun, his shoulders and chest burly, befitting a stuntman.

  Finished bringing Hank up to date, Ghost wound down.

  Hank whistled through his teeth. “What do you need?”

  “All the men you can spare to patrol the area at night and a crew to check out the pasture ASAP to see if we can find any clues that will nail Victor and his men.”

  “I’ll start on it immediately.”

  “Thanks. By the way, Nic Strom—she’s Caldwell’s granddaughter—doesn’t have the funds to pay for this. She nearly lost the ranch until she entered that reality show This Country Has Guts! If she hadn’t won, her property would be on the auction block, Victor buying it for pennies on the dollar. I told her we’d help. Take my pay, if you want. It’s only money. I can’t tell her no. I can’t leave her unprotected against—”

  “You’re preaching to the choir. Whatever you and she need, you got it. Our entertainment clients can make up the difference. God knows, they should do something worthwhile with the bucks they have.”

  “Thanks.” He ended the call and entered the kitchen.

  Shade stood next to the stove, tail swishing, head raised to a sixty-something woman scooping scrambled eggs from a cast-iron skillet onto a platter, her hair white, complexion tawny, features pure Blackfoot. Had to be Kanti, Bryce’s wife.

  An African-American woman in her early forties took the eggs from Kanti and placed them, butter, and a jar of blackberry preserves on the table, her skin black as night, curly hair close-cropped, her features so beautiful she could have been a model in her day—except for the long, cruel scar marring her forearm. Its pinkish sheen proved the injury occurred years or decades earlier. Possibly from her boyfriend who’d tried to kill her.

  Kanti and Nic’s mom stared at him, exchanged a glance, then looked at her.

  She stopped pouring orange juice. “Mom, Kanti, this is Roy Ghost. He prefers Ghost to Roy. As our new hire, he’s going to help Trent with…stuff.” She gestured between the women and him. “Ghost, this is my mom, Zara, and grandmother, Kanti.”

  He offered his hand. “Nice to meet you both.”

  They shook hands then looked at Nic worriedly.

  No one had to tell him they hadn’t bought her evasion about the “stuff” he did. She didn’t want them upset, but to leave them in the dark concerning Victor wasn’t wise either. They could walk into something and realize too late there was no escape. The same as what happened with Bryce. “Nic, they have to know.”

  She bristled until they glanced at her. “About your work? Why? It’s just regular stuff.”

  “No, it’s not.” He hated to go against her wishes, but there wasn’t another choice. “I’m here to stop Victor from trying anything else on the ranch or with any of you.”

  Kanti sagged to a chair.

  Zara plopped in another. “What has he done now?”

  “Nothing.” Nic massaged her mother’s shoulders. “And he won’t. Ghost worries too much.” She bared her teeth at him. “Don’t you?”

  He pulled out a chair and touched her arm. “Please sit, so we can discuss this.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “I understand where you’re coming from, but if they don’t know what’s been happening, I can’t protect them. Neither can you. Caution will keep everyone alive.”

  Kanti pressed her hand to her throat. “What are you talking about?”

  Although Ghost should have eased into this matter more judiciously, he couldn’t turn back now. “It’s no secret Victor wants you off this ranch. I don’t know what lengths he’ll go to in order to get his wish, especially since Nic’s winnings saved it.” Despite her glare, he soldiered on. “Trent called me yesterday, regarding the problems here. We go way back, and I said I’d help.” He explained about the Brotherhood Protectors and their mission. “We can’t waste time. This morning, three cattle are dead. I need to know details about what else has been happening.”

  The women looked at Nic.

  Kanti spoke first. “What happened to the cattle?”

  Ghost jumped in before Nic offered a lie. “Someone on Victor’s crew mutilated them. I’m here to stop that from happening again, but I need your help.”

  “Of course.” Zara gestured him to sit then patted Nic’s hand. “Stop trying to protect us. We need to know what we’re facing.”

  “I’ll handle it, Mom. You’ve been through too much already.”

  Zara fingered the scar on her arm. “I’ll live. Now sit.”

  Once Nic had, he settled in his chair, Shade at his side, tail still swishing, eyes pleading for food.

  Nic tossed a pet store package to Ghost. He offered Shade a doggy treat and stroked his head as he spoke to her. “Tell me every wrong Victor’s done to your family or anyone else.”

  She sipped her coffee. “That would take days.”

  “I have all the time you need.” He offered his gentlest smile.

  Blushing, she grabbed a biscuit and focused on buttering it. “Victor hasn’t paid grazing fees for years even though other ranchers, which include us, have done so. The last I heard, he owes the feds over a million dollars.”

  Ghost scooped eggs onto his plate. “No one’s called him on it?”

  Kanti leaned forward. “He’s been in and ou
t of court for years. Those judges constantly rule against him, but that doesn’t change anything. He still puts his cattle on land he has no right to and never pays for what they take.”

  “Why should he?” Nic spooned preserves on her biscuit. “He owns everyone in the county who’s worth owning. Sheriff Rettner refuses to do anything to upset him. His detectives and deputies are the same. Since Victor schmoozes with local judges and funds their reelection campaigns, they’re not about to bite the proverbial hand that feeds them. He has every supremacist and motorcycle gang member in this state on his side. They’re his posse. No way is anyone messing with Victor while they’re around. Hell, they’re just itching to kill someone who’s not like them. Victor’s even had the gall to graze his cattle on the reservations, saying his ancestral rights give him preference over people who were here long before his ilk ever darkened the shores. He’s special, don’t you know?”

  Ghost did. All his life he’d known people like Victor who wanted America for their kind, the chosen masters of the universe. Currently, they bitched about Hollywood liberals taking over Montana. They might have grudgingly ignored Bryce because he was at least white, but for him to marry a Native American must have goaded Victor. Then for him and Kanti to adopt a black woman and her mixed-race child had to have set his teeth on edge. “Has he tried to graze his cattle on this ranch?”

  Nic rubbed her forehead. “Worse.”

  “You mean he’s killed your cattle before now?”

  “No.”

  Zara touched Nic’s arm. “Show him. He needs to know.”

  On a heavy sigh, Nic left her seat and returned holding a binder, papers stuffed inside to the point the cover barely closed. She placed the lot near Ghost’s plate.

  He touched the vinyl cover. “What is this?”

  “His lawsuits against us.” She took her seat. “Unending motions, depositions, court appearances, you name it, it’s there.”

  This he hadn’t expected and opened the binder, the first date surprising him. “Is this in chronological order?”

  The women nodded.

  Victor had been suing Bryce, Kandi, and then Nic and her mom for years, claiming the property to the south was his—by ancestral right—stating his great-great-great grandmother was actually a Blackfoot…or Crow, Cheyenne, Dakota. The tribes and land he demanded for his own kept changing over the years. Once a judge dismissed his latest lawsuit, he started another and another, unendingly. “Why hasn’t anyone stopped him from filing this nonsense?”