Chapter Three
Jayce
His mother served midafternoon tea on the patio. A formal welcome was part of the package.
But Ali and his sister weren’t here for an adventure. They were here for a wedding. And how Jayce found himself on horseback after tea, riding up the mountain next to Malika—who sat a horse as well as he did—further confused him.
He’d planned to meet up with the Montana Fish, Wildlife, and Parks staff who were coming to check on their black-footed ferrets that afternoon and keep them out of Huck Hanson’s way.
Now Vanessa would take on that task, and she saw no need to keep their presence low key.
The ranch might carry the Hanson name, but so did she, and she didn’t mind reminding her husband of that.
Huck blamed it on her parents, retired professors and scholars, who’d given their daughter liberal ideas.
All Jayce really remembered from tea was the food. The women had monopolized the conversation. He had no idea his mother cared so much about what women in other countries were wearing this season. In winter, he added an oilskin and sweater.
Sheik Ali seemed content to listen, however, and since Adam never had much to say, Jayce had filled up on sandwiches and cookies while he thought about when to bring in custom workers to harvest the grain.
Somehow, he’d missed the part that had him riding along.
The ancient trail to Burning Scrub had only ever been intended for wagons and ceased being a road a long time ago. Three seasons out of the year, horseback was the only way in. A four-wheel drive would only take them so far, although snowmobiles in winter were the best option.
Adam, the turncoat, rode ahead with Ali.
The stock of his rifle jutted out of the scabbard tucked next to his left knee.
Jayce, who was left-handed, carried his rifle to the right.
They’d make enough noise and were in a large enough group that they’d scare off any bears, but it never paid to take chances.
“This really is a wedding for the owner’s great-granddaughter?” Malika asked Jayce for the third time.
“Yes,” Jayce said, also for the third time.
He couldn’t figure out this obsession she had for it, either. Maybe she worried whether she’d bought the right gift.
She should be enjoying the scenery instead.
He’d never yet, until this very day, brought someone up this old wagon road without them commenting on the fresh smell of pine and the vast number of birds flitting about in the branches canopied overhead.
She’d missed the mule deer completely. Its tail flashed, then it vanished silently into the trees, before he could draw her attention to it.
“Where did you learn to ride?” he asked, hoping he could divert her attention away from the wedding.
“My brother keeps stables of horses at each of his compounds. His estates,” she clarified for him, because she couldn’t know how much research went into providing the right adventure for each of Burning Scrub’s guests, and he already knew what a compound was. “His passion is the Spanish mustang.”
“Let me guess. He liked Hidalgo,” Jayce said, naming the movie that made the breed famous.
Malika smiled, which created enough of a distraction to earn him pinned ears from Side-eye, the blood bay he was riding. Side-eye didn’t like sharing his rider’s attention.
Jayce wasn’t keen on distractions, either. Not when they came from Malika. Noticing how pretty she was when she smiled gave him chills, because she noticed he noticed. He might as well hand her a gun and ask her to shoot him.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “Thanks to Viggo Mortensen, A … li insisted that all his sisters take Western riding lessons. I started when I was five. Fortunately, I enjoyed them.”
Jayce didn’t ask who it was fortunate for because that could go several ways.
He acknowledged that she knew a fair bit about horses, however, so those lessons paid off.
She’d been offered her choice from what the ranch had to offer, and she’d settled on Saber, a sweet-natured, buckskin quarter horse gelding with black mane and tail.
Saber played well with others and was a safe bet for trail riding, which was why Jayce had opted for Side-eye, a younger and higher-strung horse.
Saber kept the more anxious horse calm and provided a good learning example for him.
“You’re sure this is the only entrance to Burning Scrub?” Malika asked next, as if another possibility existed of which he might not be aware.
“Positive.”
And why his answer disappointed her was another mystery he’d likely never solve.
Malika, he’d discovered over tea, could talk relentlessly about things that had absolutely no meaning whatsoever.
He suspected it was some sort of diversionary tactic designed to make the men let down their guard, because the crazed woman who’d tried to rob his mother of grandchildren couldn’t possibly have gotten over her anger so quickly.
The way her brother tracked her movements confirmed that Jayce had reason to worry.
He checked the time. They’d been riding for about thirty minutes. Two hours to go. He needed to find an excuse to change places with Adam. Let him answer her questions and worry about what she’d do next for a while.
Side-eye’s ears flickered, turned back, and his body tensed up.
He was a beautiful horse, but Jayce began to despair that he’d ever be suitable for guests.
Then something crashed around in the bushes on the side of the path and Side-eye’s whole body trembled.
Jayce knew where things were now headed.
He drew the horse to a halt and bailed from the saddle.
He crooked his fingers into the bridle and rubbed Side-eye’s neck, trying to steady him before he went full-on ballistic.
Whatever had spooked him, Adam would handle.
Malika, with confidence to spare, and already understanding that Saber had a calming influence on Side-eye, allowed Saber to jockey closer to the jittery horse so they could touch noses.
Seconds later, a man stumbled out of the bushes.
He was skinny and short, sparsely bearded and young, and looked as if he’d spent the last week alone in the woods.
He wore camouflage fatigues, carried an overstuffed backpack almost as tall as he was, and had a cell phone in his hand that he was busy consulting.
Research scientist. Obviously lost.
The bear tracking program was off to an excellent start.
The man looked up and discovered he was no longer alone. “Oh. Hey,” he said cheerfully, waving his phone. “GPS is a bit hit and miss around here. Where am I?”
“You’re on Ride No More land,” Jayce informed him. Which was sort of true.
The man scratched his scruffy cheek and frowned at the phone’s screen. “That can’t be right.”
“Where’s your rifle?” Adam barked, because the man didn’t have one on him, which proved scientists might be book smart, but common sense wasn’t necessarily a chapter they read.
“Don’t need one. I have bear repellent. Besides, I know how to read bears. I did my PhD dissertation on the migratory habits of the North American brown bear in the Alberta Rockies.”
Dear god. Not only a scientist but a Canadian. Those crazy Canucks didn’t believe in the right to bear arms. Somehow, he’d circled around to the Ride No More land without falling off a cliff or drowning in a creek, or getting eaten by bears, proving miracles did happen.
Jayce exchanged a long look with Adam. They’d have to steer him away from the old access road because they couldn’t have him blundering into Burning Scrub by mistake.
“You feeling okay? That’s a heavy load you’re carrying. You need to be careful of overexertion in this heat,” Adam said, even though the day wasn’t unusually warm.
He reached into his saddlebag, dug around for a moment, and withdrew a bottle of juice.
He gave it a good shake, then unscrewed the cap before offering the bottle to the man. “This should tide you over until you get back to civilization. You look like you could use a good meal too, but I can’t help you there.”
“Thanks. I am a bit dry. I’ve got some energy bars left, but I ran out of water this morning, and I didn’t want to risk drinking from a stream. Beaver fever is nasty. I was headed back to Butte for supplies when I got lost.”
The man downed the bottle’s contents in a few long, thirsty gulps. Adam took the empty bottle from him and stowed it away.
The man wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “If you could point me in the right direction, I’d be eternally grateful.”
Adam pointed in the direction the man came from. “Your GPS has you turned backward.”
The man thanked them again, waved, and headed off.
He whistled as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
The whistling and his loud thrashing around in the underbrush were intended to alert any bears in the area of his presence, because in theory, they’d avoid human contact.
The problem with the theory was that it was only as good as a bear’s previous meal.
“I’ll give him a head start, then make sure he ends up at his car, safe and sound,” Adam said to Jayce. “You go on ahead with our guests.”
Jayce didn’t want to go on ahead with their guests. He’d rather help the scientist back to his car, but Adam was more experienced at relocation, so he didn’t argue. Besides, Side-eye was too skittish to be of much use in carrying dead weight.
Side-eye had settled enough now for Jayce to remount though, so Jayce mumbled agreement to Adam—he didn’t dare say what he really thought—then put his toe in the stirrup and swung into the saddle.
“I’ll take the lead,” Sheik Ali said, in the careless way a man who was used to being obeyed gave commands. “I know the way. You will ride with Malika and make sure she doesn’t get lost.”