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Courage To Believe (Cowboys of Courage 2) Page 2
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Page 2
“I’m calling Mike.” Mike Prescott was one of Lucas’s close friends and also one of the best trackers on the SNR team. Of course, no one matched Shakota’s ability. She was the only female tracker among the Crow Nation, and she was their best. “I’ll see you here.”
Chapter 2
“You know you shouldn’t be going out alone,” Mike grunted at Lucas as they rode with Jack Cameron back to Lucas’s place to pick up some supplies. Ryder and Leland Maynard, the deputy sheriff, had already set off down the mountain to follow Piney Creek, and Garrett had gone with Shakota to try to trace the horse’s tracks from the Marshalls’ place. Unfortunately, with the snow already starting to fall, Shakota hadn’t felt very confident about being able to find the trail.
Mike and Jack were going to head up the mountain to follow the creek in the opposite direction so that they would meet the fire chief and the deputy sheriff somewhere in the middle, and Lucas planned to strike out straight from his house in the direction from which the horse had come. After all, he’d been streaking in a pretty straight line in his fright, so Lucas hoped he could find a trace of his tracks that would lead him to Gillian. The kid was in trouble if they didn’t bring her in tonight.
“I know what I’m doing, Mike. You know that. Besides, my place is the closest. If I get into trouble, I’ll have a tent, and I’ll hightail it back here and let the rest of you do the hard work.” He smiled playfully and winked, but he knew Mike could see right through him. Lucas had no intention of turning back until he’d searched everywhere.
Strapping a small tent and saddlebags with supplies on Rover, he told Mike, “Just do your best, and catch me on the radio if you find her. I’ll come back in a flash.” He attached his Bowie knife to his belt and waited for the two of them to ride off. When they were gone, he grabbed his makeshift survivalist pack, which included a tarp, a day’s provisions, and a pistol, in case of emergency. With that gear, he should be perfectly fine. He’d be surprised if it took more than an hour to find the girl.
* * *
Her teeth starting to chatter now, Gillian Grayson cursed her pride and determination. She knew it was a bad time to strike out on her own, but she’d been so confident with Hiram! She wrapped her coat tighter around her and held it with her arms crossed over her chest, wishing she had something more with her to stay warm.
With the horse beneath her, it hadn’t seemed so cold. Now, sitting on the frozen ground against a tree with the sun sliding down on the horizon, Gillian shivered uncontrollably. She would start walking the way she came, but her ankle was killing her. She wasn’t lost; she just couldn’t move.
She had no idea what had spooked Hiram so suddenly. The horse had been just fine, strolling along and sniffling the ground. Suddenly, he’d danced around in a circle, trotted backward, and reared up, throwing Gillian to the ground. He’d taken off at a dead run, and Gillian had barely managed to get her wits about her.
Luckily, she hadn’t hit her head, as far as she could tell, but she’d landed on her leg crooked and it had taken several minutes for the pain to ease enough that she could drag herself to sit up against the tree. Gillian didn’t know if her aunt and uncle would even realize she had been gone too long at this point. Hiram hadn’t exactly run off in the direction of their ranch, and she didn’t know if anyone would be alerted that she was missing.
She could only hope someone would come for her before nightfall. She had no means of communication; cell phones barely worked on the ranch, and out here, she had no signal at all. The flare Aunt Carrie had insisted she take was in the saddlebag on Hiram, so she didn’t have that, either. All she had was the coat she’d worn, and thick as it was, it wouldn’t keep her warm during the night. Nor would it hold against any kind of moisture, be it rain or snow.
Gillian’s eyelids grew heavy, and though she continued to shiver, she didn’t feel so cold. She’d taken some survival classes in college, when she and her friends had been on an environmentalist kick and thought they were going to traverse the world in backpacks. Her symptoms were signs that her body temperature was dropping too low, reaching a level of hypothermia. If she could get up and walk, she could build a little heat, but the throbbing in her ankle told her she couldn’t even limp a few feet without excruciating pain.
If the leaves around her weren’t still half frozen, she would have pulled them up around her, but Gillian figured she’d simply melt the ice from them and soak her clothes. Determined not to let hopelessness or raw fear creep over her, Gillian forced her mind elsewhere. She imagined herself at home in Richmond, sitting beside the fire and reading a book. Not something educational; she would read what her mother lovingly referred to as “fantasy”. Of course, most romance novels were much closer to fantasy than reality, but that’s what made them a great escape.
Gillian wasn’t ignorant enough to believe that a woman in the midst of the worst circumstances of her life would suddenly meet a gorgeous man. And even if she did, that man was more likely to be an arrogant jerk than to help her find her confidence. He certainly wasn’t going to be the first person to make her see how truly beautiful she was. It was all about the fantasy and the entertainment value.
It was a formula, really, and Gillian had thought more than once about trying her hand at writing. With a weak laugh to herself, Gillian thought she had her opportunity right now. It would certainly keep her awake, and this was probably one of the few times she certainly didn’t have any other obligations. By the time someone found her, she’d have a bestseller on her hands!
* * *
Despite the chill in the air, Lucas didn’t think it was snow that was coming. The imminent storm gathered with malice that had the air crackling: this was going to be far worse. Thunderstorms at this time of year, with snow still on the ground, flooded the creek and hindered movement. If it was hard to get around in a blizzard, it was impossible in the torrential downpours, with sheets of rain and falling branches. There would probably be mudslides, too, and that was perhaps the most dangerous aspect of the storm.
Rover had grown a bit skittish over the last few minutes as the wind picked up, but Lucas trusted him. He was a good horse, calm and trained to obey his master over his instincts. As long as Lucas stayed calm, so would Rover.
But things were starting to look daunting. His radio crackled to life, and he held it to his ear to hear it over the wind that howled past him. “Hey, guys, Garrett here. Shakota’s got nothing for tracks, and we’ve gone as far as she could have possibly gotten in this direction.”
“Yeah, we all just met up along the creek. There’s no sign of her, and it doesn’t look like she even made it far enough to cross the creek,” came Mike’s voice past static that nearly drown him out completely. “That leaves you, Lucas. You got anything your way?”
Not a damn thing, save for a gut feeling and a sense of responsibility to save this young girl. “Most of the snow is melted this way, and there’s something in the mud that doesn’t look like any kind of animal I’ve ever seen. I’m going out about another mile or so before I turn back.” The lie was harmless, since the only one who stood to get hurt in this was Lucas. And he was more experienced than anyone else on the SNR team, which was why he was coordinator. He could survive the night to come, and he wasn’t afraid to try it if it meant saving a young girl.
With the sun having dropped below the horizon and the clouds low overhead, Lucas had to dig out the flashlight, the dark all-consuming. That horse had come straight at his ranch, and Lucas couldn’t imagine the bolting animal zigzagging around in its spooked state. He had been determined to get the hell out of Dodge as quick as possible, and that meant making a beeline out of there.
The sky flashed like daylight with a streak of lightning, and the crack of thunder that followed had Rover snorting and prancing. Lucas shushed him, patting his side and gently tugging the reins. “Whoa there, boy. It’s all right. We got a little further to go. We need to find a girl, and then we can be on our way home. I’ll have
you safe in the stable before the worst of it hits. There might even be a couple of sugar cubes in it for you.”
When the beast’s nerves were calm enough, Lucas urged him forward, and he smiled in triumph as his flashlight moved over a branch that had been recently broken. And it wasn’t by a snowstorm. Something had ran smack through it, something big enough to crash through it and knock it down, like a spooked horse.
He rode toward it, assessing which direction it had broken, and he followed the path from which the horse had come. It couldn’t be much further now. About a hundred yards further, even Lucas could see the disturbance of the leaves and remaining snow where Hiram had danced around before finally taking off. He followed that disaster and found the trail. Just on the other side, he could see where the girl must have landed, a large print in the mud, and as far as he could tell, she’d dragged herself away from the spot.
The marks continued for about twelve feet, to a tree where…
Gillian Grayson sat shivering with her back against a large tree, her eyes wide open and alert as she stared at him. This was definitely the girl in the picture, but she was not at all what he had expected. This wasn’t some teenage sweetheart. She was all woman, and she was gorgeous, even dirty and on the verge of freezing to death.
That shook him back into reality, and Lucas grabbed the radio to call the others and let them know he’d found her. But as he pushed the button, nothing happened. He stared at the device, shook it, and tried again, but there was no juice.
Wasn’t it just his luck to run out of battery now?
Chapter 3
Gillian tensed. The new sound did not match the other sounds of animals she’d been hearing in the forest for the last several hours. Nor did it sound like part of the storm. It was distinct enough to snap her out of the story she’d been creating in her head, and she stared in the direction she’d heard it.
A light flashed in her direction, and she could tell it was someone on horseback. She was grateful she’d been found, but what if this was some crazy mountain man who was going to take her and make her some sort of slave? Gillian rolled her eyes at herself. She’d let her imagination run a little too far.
Taking the tiny flashlight out of her pocket and shining it back as the one facing her was lowered, she squinted and knew she must be hallucinating. Too many romance novels and too much time out here alone in the cold with an injury that had likely sent her into shock by now. The man on that horse – and probably the horse – were just manifestations of the fantasy in her psyche. There was no way a man like that had just arrived like a knight in shining armor to rescue her.
He closed the distance between them, dismounted, and pegged his horse to the ground. Only cowboys in novels were that graceful and carried those kinds of supplies with them. In real life, he would have kept hold of the reins or tied them around a tree or something. But when he knelt next to her and reached for her wrist to take her pulse, Gillian realized she wouldn’t have imagined that little detail, and he had to be real.
She stared into a pair of mossy green eyes set in a ruggedly handsome face. Beneath the cowboy hat was a mess of sandy brown waves, and she could tell by the way he sat on the horse he had a strong physique and toned muscles. And then he spoke, and her heart melted. “Gillian, my name’s Lucas Graham. I’m a friend of your aunt and uncle and the coordinator of the Search and Rescue for Treasure County. Are you hurt?”
Her mouth ran dry, and she had trouble answering him. He scowled, obviously thinking she’d hit her head or something, so she choked out, “My ankle. I think I twisted my ankle when I fell.”
He nodded, still checking her over for any serious cuts and bruises, she supposed. “What about your head? Did you hit your head at all?”
“No, somehow I managed not to bang it, even though it might have been a blessing to go easy and not sit helplessly in this numbing cold.” She tried to joke, but he didn’t seem to think it was funny. Gillian supposed she shouldn’t joke about death with someone in charge of making sure no one died on his watch. Trying again, she said, “My toes are pretty numb now. I’m afraid I might have frostbite or something.”
But the guy – Lucas, which was a very interesting name – shook his head. “I doubt it. But you’ve slipped into a mild hypothermia. We need to get your body temperature up before we try to move you.”
Gillian didn’t particularly like the sound of that. Her pants were soaked and muddy from sitting on the ground, and she didn’t want to get caught in the coming storm. The thunder and lightning didn’t bode well, and Gillian had never been outdoors in raw elements like that. The expression on Lucas’s face told her she was right to be concerned.
“Shouldn’t we get to shelter of some kind?” she asked.
He shook his head. “That would be ideal, but if I moved you, you could go into shock. I can’t risk that. Which ankle hurts?”
She pointed, and he felt his way down her leg. Gillian gulped quietly. She couldn’t believe that, in these particular conditions, she could be both embarrassed and incredibly turned on by the professional touch. Even the agonizing pain as he reached the swelling around her ankle did nothing to dampen her attraction to the guy.
He sighed. “I can’t tell if it’s sprained, twisted, or broken. There’s too much swelling. Can you move it?”
“I’m not sure.” Gillian didn’t like the idea of trying it, but she knew she had to. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to make her ankle bend. She cried out in pain, her back arching as she worked to point and flex her foot. And it didn’t feel like anything was happening. “Well?” she asked, panting.
Those beautiful mossy eyes met her gaze, and Gillian knew he had bad news. “It didn’t really move. But it could just be so swollen that it doesn’t have any real flexibility. I can’t wrap it, though, just in case it’s broken. If it’s set wrong and I do that, it’ll only hurt worse. I need you just to try not to move it, okay?”
She nodded rapidly, still catching her breath. “So, what do we do now?” The first splatters of rain were starting to fall. While it was just a few drops, those drops were huge, and the ping of one on her face made Gillian flinch.
Lucas stared up at the sky, as if he could see the future. “We’re pretty much stuck here for the night. I can’t move you, and even if I could, we’d be risking getting caught in a mudslide or having a branch fall on us.” He stood and walked over to the horse, bringing back a couple of large packs. Gillian wasn’t enough of an outdoorsman to know what any of it was.
When he started pulling supplies from the packs, Gillian was impressed. He truly was prepared, like some star Boy Scout. Gillian wondered if that was just who he was, or if it was part of his search and rescue training. Either way, he had everything from a standard first aid kit to a basic travel tool set. He even pulled out a small tent.
She forced a laugh, her face a bit frozen. “Do you always travel with everything you need in case the apocalypse hits while you’re out in the woods?”
He chuckled, and the sound rolled down her spine like a Swedish massage. “Damn straight I do. Although, when I’m looking for someone lost on the mountain with a severe storm on the way, I put a little more thought into it.” He gave her a chastising look. “What were you doing going out with the weather coming in?”
Gillian didn’t have a good answer, and she looked away, embarrassed. “I thought I was a better rider, and I wasn’t going out for very long. Besides, I had a horse that was supposedly docile. I didn’t expect him to suddenly freak out and throw me.”
Chapter 4
Lucas listened as he started putting things together. He wanted the tent up before the rain started in earnest. And he had to figure out how to set it up safely, right where Gillian sat, so he didn’t have to move her much. There was a low-slung branch just to her right, and another he could use to secure one tarp. Having one over the tent would help prevent any falling branches from knocking down the tent.
He’d spread the second tarp on the gro
und under the tent so the wet ground wouldn’t affect them. It was a little late for Gillian’s clothes; he would have to find a solution for that. Spending the night in cold wet clothes could give her pneumonia.
He couldn’t wrap his mind around getting her out of them; he wasn’t sure he could trust himself alone with her if he got a good look at what lay beneath the thin coat, dirty shirt, and soaked jeans. His imagination was already creating an image, and it was threatening to drive him mad.
Lucas busied himself building the shelter. “You know, even the best trained horse gets spooked, and that’s obviously what happened. He came running at my ranch like a bat out of hell, and I had to sneak up to him to calm him down. What happened, exactly?”
He glanced back over his shoulder at her, and those giant blue eyes looked bewildered. “I don’t know. We were just trotting along the path, and all of a sudden, he skittered backward and reared back. By the time I could sit up, he was nearly out of sight.”
Come morning, Lucas would look for signs of what might have caused such erratic behavior, but there was no time and no light to look tonight. Since Gillian had been sitting there for hours now and seemed unharmed, whatever had caused the problem obviously wasn’t an immediate threat.
The weather, however, was.
“Is that how you knew I was missing?” she asked, sounding a bit listless. Lucas knew she was exhausted, and the low body temperature made it even more likely that she would fall asleep. But he couldn’t let her do that until he had her secured in a shelter and warmed up a bit.
Lucas nodded. He would try to keep her talking. “I didn’t recognize the horse, so I knew it had to either belong on the Breckinridge ranch or to your aunt and uncle. And with him being saddled, I figured he’d lost a rider somewhere along the way. I set up a search from the Marshalls’ place, but I had a feeling I’d find you if I set off in the direction the horse came at me from. Where’d you come from for the visit?” Any question that would keep her talking was good enough for him at this point.