Warrior Spirit

“So,” she said. “What am I supposed to do now? Should I tip you?”

Her voice had a New York accent. “Where are you from?” he asked.

“Brooklyn. And you know what? I can’t give you a tip, after all. I’m broke. That scum-sucking Lyle left me without a dime.”

“Money is important to you.”

“Duh!”

He recalled his prior impression that she was a gold digger. But the label didn’t quite fit. Her cotton blouse and black skirt were cheap—one step up from thrift shop. And the bangles she wore on her arm were junk. “I don’t want your money. A simple thank-you is enough.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask for your help. I can take care of myself.”

Trevor glanced toward Danny, who was sprawled against the rock, groaning. He was beginning to regain consciousness. “Before I got here, it looked like you weren’t doing a real good job of protecting yourself.”

Her chin lifted and her dark eyes flared. “I do okay.”

“I want you to come with me, Sierra.”

“How do you know my name?”

He shrugged. “You’re Lyle Nelson’s fiancée. That makes you famous.”

“Ex-fiancée,” she said coldly.

If she was sad about her former fiancé’s death, she was hiding it well.

“There are a few questions I want to ask,” he explained.

“Forget it,” she said. “I don’t even know you. What makes you think you can tell me—”

“You’re coming with me.” He shot her a hard-edged glare. “No point in arguing, Sierra. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

Not in the least bit intimidated, she tossed her head and laughed. “Let me tell you something, mister. Nothing about me is easy.”

He had the feeling that truer words were never spoken. Sierra wasn’t going to cooperate with him in this interrogation.

On the ground, Danny had begun to recover.

Sierra walked past him and peeked around the edge of the granite outcropping. “Damn. It looks like there’s a bunch of mourners headed this way.”

“We need to get moving,” Trevor said.

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan. How are we going to do that?”

“Ride with me.”

Her full pink lips pursed as she considered his suggestion. “How do I know you’re not going to carry me off someplace?”

“You don’t,” he said.

“But I sure as hell don’t want to stay here.” She glanced down at Danny, then looked back at Trevor. “Okay, mister. Let’s ride.”

When he boosted her into the saddle, her skirt rode all the way up, giving him a breathtaking view of her well-shaped calves and smooth, creamy thighs. He could have stood there all day, just looking. But they needed to make tracks. He mounted behind her.

His saddle wasn’t meant to hold two people, and they were a tight fit. He reached around her to take the reins. “Hang on, Sierra.”

“Wait a minute.” She turned her head to look at him. “What’s your name?”

“Trevor.”

She gave a quick nod. “Okay, Trevor. Take me to my car. It’s a peacock-green Nissan at the edge of the parking area.”

There wasn’t time to argue with her. Danny was already on his feet.

“We’ll double back,” Trevor said.

With a flick of his reins and pressure from his heels in the stirrups, he directed his stallion toward the north end of the valley. The headquarters for Big Sky Bounty Hunters was about twelve miles from here, and that was their destination.

With the extra weight on board, he didn’t want his horse to be strained. But they needed to move fast. Trevor eased Smokey down the slight incline to the meadow. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw seven or so mourners in pursuit. “Let’s go, Smokey.”

His horse broke into a steady gallop, easily out-pacing the men who followed on foot. The animal was covering ground, flying across the meadow. But it wasn’t a graceful ride.

And Sierra wasn’t making it easier. She was wiggling around in the saddle. “Let me down.”

“You’re coming with me,” Trevor said.

“The hell I am.”

The pathway up the pine-covered hillside was narrow, and he’d slowed his stallion’s pace. Before he could stop her, Sierra swung her leg over the pommel and slipped off the saddle. She fell to the ground with a loud shriek. So much for a subtle escape.

Trevor dismounted and stood over her. “I want you to answer some questions. That’s all. Tell me the truth, and I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

“No deal.” Though she managed to stand up, her legs were shaky from the ride, and she braced herself against a tree trunk. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

When he reached for her arm, she hauled off and took a wild swing, which he easily deflected. Was she nuts? She’d just seen him take down three men. “It won’t do you any good to fight me.”

She swung again, and he caught hold of her wrist. They were face-to-face. She was breathing hard. Her lips parted and her face was flushed as she struggled to get free from his grasp.

Sensing that she was preparing to kick him, Trevor backed her up against the tree trunk and leaned against her so she wouldn’t have room to slam her knee into his groin. “You’ll answer my questions,” he said.

“No!” Her head whipped back and forth in fierce denial.

“That makes me think you’ve got something to hide.”

“I don’t care what you think.”

Trevor should have been annoyed. Sierra was making things more difficult than they needed to be. Instead, he found himself attracted to this hardcore, unrefined woman with the New York attitude. She was tough and strong and sexier than any woman had a right to be.