Soldier's Promise

“As you said, my mother is free to make her own decisions, but my sister is not. And the so-called wilderness paradise Daniel Metwater likes to brag about is no place for her.”

Carmen thumbed the safety on her weapon and shoved it into the waistband of her skirt. Later, she’d replace it in the holster strapped to her thigh beneath the long, loose skirt. For all his obvious agitation and coiled energy, she didn’t sense that Jake Lohmiller was any threat to her. “I’ve talked to Sophie, and she’s not unhappy. She’s being homeschooled, she’s healthy, and she seems to have a great relationship with her mother.” So far, nothing Carmen had learned in her time with the Family had pointed to any abuse or neglect, though she couldn't shake the feeling that life in the camp wasn’t as rosy as Metwater and his followers liked to paint. The truth was, a week probably wasn’t long enough to get a real picture for what was going on. She didn’t look forward to returning to her commander with nothing to show for her efforts.

Lohmiller scowled. “What about that creep, Metwater?”

“What about him?”

“I’ve checked him out. I’ve read his blog and newspaper articles about him—everything I could find online. And I’ve been watching him for a few days now. He collects beautiful women the way some men collect cars. How long before he starts eyeing Sophie?”

His words sent a shiver through Carmen. “I’m sure your mother would never let anything happen to Sophie.”

“You don’t know my mother like I do.”

“When was the last time you spoke to her?”

“Four years ago. Sophie was ten.”

“People can change a lot in four years.”

“My mom is still making poor decisions. Bringing Sophie out here proves it.”

Carmen couldn’t argue with that. Though Sophie seemed content enough, following an itinerant preacher didn’t seem the best way to bring up a child. But before she could think of a reply, Lohmiller said, “You don’t strike me as the typical Daniel Metwater follower.”

Knowing that he had been spying on her long enough to feel qualified to make such an assessment annoyed her. “Who do you see as his typical follower?” she asked.

“Disconnected, discontented, idealistic. Young, white and, as far as I can tell, mostly well-off and well-educated. I’m not questioning your education, but the people who flock to someone like Metwater are searching for some idealistic world that he’s promising them.”

Okay, so he had done his homework. But she couldn’t resist goading him. “You don’t think I’m those things?”

“You have a job and a purpose. I doubt if most cops stay idealistic for long, even if they start that way. You seem too down-to-earth and practical to fall for all his mumbo jumbo.”

“And I’m not white.”

She ignored the pleasant tremor that swept through her as his gaze assessed her. “That, too. Are you Native American?”

“You got it in one.”

“So, if you’re not one of his followers, that means you’re here as a cop. Possibly undercover. What are you investigating?”

Time to get her head back on the job. “I’m not going to discuss my purpose here with you.”

“Fine. You don’t have to. You can at least give me your name—or whatever name you’re going by out here.”

Fair enough. “My name is Carmen. Carmen Redhorse.”

“Well, Officer Redhorse, the fact that you’re here means something is going on in camp that has the cops suspicious. And that means my sister and my mother don’t belong there.”

“Then you need to talk to your mother and stop lurking in the wilderness,” she said. “Some people might get the wrong idea.”

“You’re the only person who knows I’m here. I can’t control whether your ideas about me are wrong or not.”

Had he meant the comment to sound vaguely sexual? Was he trying to provoke her, or was it just his nature? She glanced toward the canyon rim. The other women were long out of sight now. She had told them she wanted to walk back alone, to think about some things, and had promised to catch up with them later. But how long could she stay away before someone came looking for her? “Are you going to talk to your mom?” she asked Lohmiller.

“I’ll talk to her,” he said. “And what do you think she’ll tell me?”

“I have no idea.”

“Yes, you do. You’ve been hanging out with her for at least three days. You must have made some judgments about her. So, tell me what you think she’ll say when I ask her to leave Metwater’s little cult and come live with me?”

“She’ll tell you she and Sophie are happy here, that Daniel Metwater changed her life and she doesn’t want to go with you.”

He nodded. “Exactly. So talking to her isn’t going to be enough. I have to find a way to convince her to leave—with Sophie.”

“That’s between you and your mother. I can’t help you.” She started to turn away, but his hand on her arm stopped her.

“I think you can help me,” he said. “In fact, I insist.”

She pulled away from him, resisting the urge to rub the place on her arm where he had touched her, where she imagined she could still feel the heat of his touch. She might have known he was the type who thought he could boss her around. “You can insist all you want, but I’m not going to help you.”

“One thing I learned reading Metwater’s writings is that he hates cops,” he said. “What do you think he’ll do if I tell him he’s got one living with him, lying about who she is and spying on him?”

Metwater would be furious if he learned she was a cop, but that didn’t mean he would do anything more than kick her out of his camp. But even though she didn’t have any proof that he was involved in anything illegal, everything she knew about him told her he was capable of violence. Still, she was a cop. She knew how to look after herself. “I could have you arrested for interfering with an investigation,” she said.

“You could. But you’d have to deal with Metwater first.” He removed his sunglasses, and she found herself held by the intensity of his sapphire-blue eyes. His voice was a low, sexy rumble she was sure was intentional. “I’m thinking maybe you would prefer to deal with me.”

Chapter Two (#u6b33b1d0-f18c-5247-ae0e-d119b689371b)

Jake knew his words had gotten through the tough attitude she wore like a shield. A rosy flush burnished Officer Redhorse’s cheeks, and he could almost see the sparks of anger in her eyes at what he could admit was his clumsily delivered threat. He wasn’t sure if she would scream at him or go ahead and shoot him, so he hastened to try to repair the damage.

“Look, all I’m asking is for you to help me out a little,” he said.

“I can’t help you,” she said.

“You can talk to my mother. Tell her you think it’s a good idea for her and Sophie to come with me.”

“I hardly know your mother,” she said. “Why would she listen to me? And I know even less about you. I have no way of knowing if going with you is a good idea or not.”

Couldn’t she see that he was a good guy? Well, maybe not. “Check me out,” he said. “You’ll see I don’t even have a traffic ticket.”

“Just because you’ve never broken a law doesn’t make you a good guy. Daniel Metwater doesn’t have any traffic tickets, either.”

He winced. Then another idea occurred to him. “Does Metwater trust you?” he asked.

She looked as if she had tasted something sour. “I’m not sure trust is the right word.”

“But he likes you,” Jake said. “He’s attracted to you. You’re a beautiful woman, and you’re a novelty.”

“Because I’m not his usual white and desperate type?”