Undercover In Conard County. Rachel Lee

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      She rose and got the coffeepot, warming both their cups.

      “You okay, Desi?” he asked suddenly.

      “I’m fine. Maybe a little burnt out,” she added honestly.

      He half smiled. “Early in the season for that, isn’t it?”

      She shook her head as she settled on the couch again. “It’s year-round, one way or another. Think we don’t get poaching in July?”

      “I know you do.”

      “Exactly. There’s a lot of other crap, too, like off-roaders driving on posted range land, mudders tearing up sensitive ecology in the spring. Frankly, I’ll never understand the thrill of driving through deep mud. All it does is make a mess.”

      His smile widened a bit. “Do it because you can?”

      “Seems like.” She offered a smile in return. “There are good things, too. I know a lot of good people, for one thing. For another, there’s nothing like rescuing a baby critter that’s lost its mom.”

      “Like the mountain lion cub.”

      “Or a bear cub. Or a mess of raccoons. Even injured birds. There’s also fun, like the time a bunch of us had to drive a huge herd of elk off a rancher’s grazing land. They’d pushed their way right though the fence.”

      His interest perked. “How many?”

      “Seven, eight hundred. A regular roundup.”

      “Sounds dangerous.”

      “It could have been but mostly they wanted to get away from us, so we were able to convince them to go back through the fence. We had a lot of local help with that one, and we didn’t lose a single elk.”

      He nodded and sipped more coffee. “Bet it felt good.”

      She laughed, feeling as if a spring inside her were uncoiling a bit. “It felt like a triumph. Nobody wanted to see that herd hurt, but the rancher needed the land for his own stock.”

      His face shadowed a bit. “Not enough room anymore.”

      “Not anymore.” She stifled a sigh. “It’s a constant battle, Kel. You must have figured that out. Not enough open land anymore, not for the way it used to be. We keep migration corridors open, we have feeding areas for the big game because otherwise they’d starve and guess what happens?” And here she was, talking the job again. A one-trick pony.

      “What?”

      “Brucellosis. Everybody wanted to blame it on the buffalo coming out of Yellowstone, but the truth turned out to be the elk were passing it along at the feeding sites, and when the elk ran into buffalo or free-range cattle...well. Not the buffalo at all, really.”

      Then she sat up. “I believe I said I didn’t want to talk about the job tonight.”

      “You did. I’m sorry.”

      “I’m the one who keeps bringing it up like a broken record.” She shook her head.

      “Well, it can be a 24/7 job. But right now you’re relaxing, so let me think of something else to talk about. I was trying to do that earlier, and not so successfully it seems.”

      It was true, she thought. She gave him points for being helpful in more ways than one. She must sound like a whiner. Or maybe a bore. Either one was bad.

      “Got any family?” he asked.

      “You mean the deserters?” She smiled. “My parents headed for sunnier climes as soon as they could manage. My mother never liked the cold, and as she got older her dislike grew. My dad swore he couldn’t take the complaining anymore. So off to Texas, where he’s working construction and Mom is selling real estate.”

      “Do you go visit them?”

      “Christmas, if I can get away for a few days. Mostly in the summer. Yeah, it’s warmer. I don’t like it.”

      He laughed outright, drawing an answering laugh from her. “I’m not keen on hot climates. Any delusions I had about that ended in Iraq. I’ll take cool and cold any day.”

      “So you weren’t just in Afghanistan?”

      “Not always.” He paused, his gaze growing distant. Then he shook his head, as if a gnat were annoying him. “As to family...there’s just me.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      He shrugged. “I was adopted. I don’t remember my real parents, and my adoptive parents were older people, more like grandparents, and childless. I guess I’m weird, but I never had any urge to hunt up my biological mother or father. My adoptive parents were good to me. I loved them and they loved me. That’s all I need to know.”

      Never having been adopted, Desi didn’t know how to evaluate that, but she suspected this was a man who was good at compartmentalizing his life. Then it occurred to her that in her own way so was she. The Job. All the time, the Job.

      “Didn’t anyone ever sweep you off your feet?” he teased.

      Well, there was nothing like a spot of truth, she decided. “One guy tried.”

      “And?”

      “I kicked him in the nuts.”

      His face suddenly went stony, as if he were refusing to react to the range of possibilities inherent in her statement. Good choice, she thought sourly.

      “Exactly why?” he asked after a minute.

      “What seemed like a date turned into a rape.” There, that was bold. But she didn’t see any reason to pretty it up. It had been ugly and she’d cried for two days afterward. Then she’d vowed to never be a fool again. So how was it possible she could feel attraction to Kel? To any man? Dangerous waters.

      He swore, then said, “I’m sorry. I’m surprised you’re lending me a bunk.”

      “That’s different. Colleagues use that bunkhouse all the time. Just don’t try to snow me.” With that she stood and went to her own bedroom and locked the door behind her.

      God, it was all swimming up again. Why the hell had she ever pulled the cork out of that bottle?

      She settled into her rocking chair and just rocked. What else could she do? It’d settle again. It always had before.

      * * *

      Left to his own devices in her small front room with the remains of a pot of coffee, Kel thought about what she’d just revealed. It had been a stunner, all right. And maybe self-protective.

      A few times he’d caught female interest in her gaze, the same kind of attraction he felt for her. Maybe she was afraid of her own feelings. Or maybe she’d sensed his. So she’d put up one great big warning flag.

      Just don’t try to snow me. That was a revealing statement. It might explain СКАЧАТЬ