Evidence of Trust (Colorado Trust 1)
“We?”
“I’m going with you.”
“It’s not like I need you to hold my hand down the mountain.” When he kept grooming her horse, she huffed out an annoyed breath in the frosty morning air. “Ranger Morgan, don’t you have poachers to chase?”
“Not at the moment,” he replied. “My truck and trailer are at the Long’s Peak trailhead, so I’m at your service for the day, Ms. Lucas.”
“I don’t need you,” she ground out.
He continued to brush her horse with light, sweeping strokes, but when he spoke, he made sure his voice was iron hard. “Like it or not, you’ve got me.”
She finally clamped her mouth shut, and less than ten minutes later, she took the lead as they began their descent. The sun glistened off fresh snow, blinding in its brightness. He tugged his black hat lower on his forehead to combat the glare as she dug out a pair of sunglasses.
Every day in the mountains brought new versions of the same scenery; a crimson sunrise, a cloudy day, sunshine, rain, misty mornings, brilliant sunsets. He may hate certain parts of his job, but a beauty like this was one thing he’d never tire of.
In the next moment, he realized even as his mind journeyed the mountain vistas, his gaze remained fixed on the woman ahead of him. Not good.
The faint sound of a motor provided a welcome distraction—until he saw Brittany’s alarmed expression as she searched the sky. Suspicion narrowed his gaze. Why did the helicopter have her so spooked?
It rounded Storm Peak and headed straight toward them. Her horse whipped around as she jumped from the saddle. “Try to wave them off. Paelo’s not used to helicopters!”
The bird drew closer and the stallion backed up, straining against her hold on the reins. Joel saw her groping for the packhorse’s lead line tied to her saddle. She’d never reach it. He vaulted off his horse and managed to unhook the lead line from the packhorse’s halter. The mare jerked back, then bolted down the mountain trail.
His radio crackled to life where it was secured to the saddle on his horse’s back. Startled into obeying his natural instinct, Nobel took off after his fellow equine and disappeared from sight. Joel took a few strides after him, but realized he’d never catch them.
“Get rid of that chopper!”
The desperate edge to Brittany’s voice got through to him, and he spun around to wave off the helicopter. It banked sharp left, and moments later the whirring blades faded in the distance.
Her soft words continued to calm her horse until she gave a firm command and rounded on Joel. “What took you so damn long?”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, my horse took off.”
“So did one of mine. Why in the world didn’t you radio the ranger station before we left? Did it not occur to you they might do a fly-by to check on us after the storm?”
“I gave instructions yesterday to keep the choppers away, the damn idiots should’ve listened to me. And what are you so angry about? You still have a horse to ride.” He turned his glare from her, to the trembling black beast at her side, to the empty trail.
She swung back into the saddle. “I’m going to try to catch the horses.”
“Fine.” Joel stood to the side so she could pass.
But she didn’t move, just sat there looking down at him as she rubbed a hand up and down her horse’s shiny neck. “You understand I can’t give you a ride with the trails like this? The extra weight would be too—”
“I grew up in the mountains,” he snapped. “That’s just common sense.”
Her mouth thinned, then softened. “Thank you for unhooking the line. That could’ve been a disaster.”
He gave a brief nod and extended his hand for her to proceed ahead of him.
“Do you want me to wait for you?”
Frustrated impatience raised his vo
ice. “No, Ms. Lucas. Obviously, it’s more important for you to make sure one of those damn horses didn’t break a leg.”
“Don’t yell at me. If you’d radioed the station—”
“If you,” he jabbed a finger straight at her, “hadn’t been in the park without a permit, I wouldn’t even be here right now.”