Ride the Fire (15 page)

“Word is, he’s dealing. And maybe not just drugs. Stealing and selling arms,” Wilson claimed.

“Shit,” one breathed. “How’s he doing it?”

“Don’t know. I hear Tanner’s thrown in with him.”

“No fucking way,” another hissed.

God, did they know about the meeting? Spurred by fear, Sean made himself known as the group jumped apart. Glaring at Wilson, he pushed the man hard in the center of his chest. “I don’t have shit to do with anything illegal. And as far as Jesse goes, do you have any proof? Any of you?”

Wilson raised his hands in a self-protective gesture. “No, man. It’s just what I’ve heard.”

“Right. No proof. Which is why you’re all standing around gossiping like old women!”

“Sean, we know he’s your friend, but Rose is a bad seed. Open your eyes, man.”

“My eyes are open, and I don’t like what I’m seeing right now. Don’t destroy a man’s reputation without proof, especially his, or you’ll answer to me.”

Spinning on his heel, he stalked around the corner . . . and walked right into Jesse.

“Good man,” his friend said with pride. “I knew I could count on you.”

“Sure they didn’t,” she drawled, teasing. But it seemed he didn’t appreciate the humor of being caught in powder blue nurse’s scrubs adorned with colorful rainbows and fluffy white clouds. Much less being reminded that he’d have to leave in them. She decided to give him a break. “Ready to go?”

“I was ready hours ago. Just waiting on the doctor to sign my release papers and I’m out of here. I was going to call a cab, but . . . take me home?”

She hoped she wasn’t reading too much into the unspoken question in his eyes. As though he was talking about more than a simple lift to his place. “Anywhere you want to go.”

Real subtle. She might as well stamp her feelings across her forehead. He’d said he was willing to see where things went between them, but she had no doubt he wasn’t ready to make a commitment. What it would take to bridge that gap between them, or whether it was possible, she didn’t know.

A half hour later a nurse wheeled him through the corridors and downstairs, per hospital policy, while his cheerful outfit earned giggles and a few comments from the nurses. She’d expected him to be grouchy, so his taking the ribbing with good humor was a pleasant surprise.

While the nurse waited with him at the curb, she jogged to fetch the car. After pulling it to the front, under the awning, she tossed his clothing bag and release papers in the backseat and he climbed into the passenger’s side without assistance.

At last they were under way, and she threw him a glance. “Are you hungry? We could do a drive-through on the way.”

“I could eat. I slept through dinner last night, and the rubber eggs and dry toast they brought this morning looked less than appetizing.”

“I can imagine. Burger?”

“God, that sounds good.” His stomach rumbled in agreement.

“You’ve got it.”

On the way through town, she picked up a couple of burgers, fries, and shakes at Stratton’s. He dove into the bag and had his burger and half his fries eaten by the time she pulled into the drive near his front porch.

“Here you are.” When she made no move to get out, he frowned.

“Don’t you want to come in?”

“I didn’t want to presume.”

“I might have a relapse. In that event, I’d need a paramedic to give me mouth-to-mouth.” He grinned.

“I just happen to know one of those!” Putting the car in park, she shut off the ignition. “What kind of medic would I be to leave you in mortal danger?”

“My point exactly.”

Despite their banter, she couldn’t help but remember that he might very well be in jeopardy. Whoever was tormenting him had greatly upped the stakes by tampering with their equipment. What if next time he decided to take a more direct approach? That seemed to be the way this was headed, and the idea chilled her.

“Coming?”

“Sure.”

Bringing her food, she trailed him into the house and to the kitchen. He discarded his trash and she sat at the breakfast table, noting the tired slump of his shoulders.

“You look like you could use a nap.”

“Told you I wouldn’t be able to sleep in that place.” He glanced away, a shadow crossing his expression, quickly covered. But not quick enough.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Uh-huh.” Sticking her legs out, she leaned back in her chair and crossed her ankles.

“Had a nightmare. Nothing big.”

Liar. At her arch stare, he relented some.

“Ever had one of those weird dreams inside of a dream? Where you’re lying there and you think you’re awake when something bad happens, and then you wake up for real and your heart’s about to explode?”

“I have, and they’re damned creepy. What was yours about?”

“I dreamed this guy showed up in my hospital room. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew him. I think—I
know
he was planning to kill me.” Sean lowered himself into a chair across from her. His face was a bit pale, and he seemed shaken by the recollection.

“Do you really know him? Or was he someone you just thought you knew in the dream?”

“He was someone I knew, a long time ago. My best friend from high school. We went into the marines together, fought side by side. Jesse always had a wild streak a mile wide, but for years I ignored the meanness lurking behind that magnetic personality. Jesse was brilliant, fun, a god among men. The guys followed him like the Pied Piper . . . but I discovered some were loyal to him for all the wrong reasons, and by then it was too late. When my blinders got ripped away, everything went to hell.”

The sadness and regret in his tone were tempered by a distance of many years, as they should be.

“What was he doing?”

“He started by dabbling in the drug trade and quickly graduated to stealing American military weapons and supplies, selling them to the highest bidder. Allies, enemies. Didn’t matter to Jesse. Finding out was bad enough, but the real kick in the gut was when I learned he was also stockpiling weapons for himself.”

“Building a private army,” she guessed.

“Bingo. All our lives he’d burned to leave his mark on the world, and he’d finally found a way to accomplish that.”

She could picture the type; they haunted the news on the anniversary of every tragic act of violence. America had been dealt plenty of scars left by bastards like that.

“And when you found out . . .”

His voice was bitter. “I did nothing.”

That gave her pause. “But surely you went to a superior, somebody who could help?”

“Not at first, and that was my mistake.” He stared past her head, remembering. “Looking back, there were signs all along that Jesse had the potential to turn bad. Shit I ignored or made excuses for, like when he started spouting antigovernment views. But it wasn’t until he lured me to a meeting for his first big arms deal that I knew for sure I was in deep trouble.”

“Because you were at the meeting, and didn’t act right away.”

“Yeah. Jesse was convinced I would support him and would never betray him, that I was merely misguided and would come to share his vision. When I got scared and failed to go to our superiors right away, I only reinforced his faith in me. He wanted to bring me into the fold as his second-in-command, for us to work side by side for a better America or some such crap. What he was really spewing were plans to commit acts of homeland terrorism. He shattered every illusion I’d had about him and our friendship.”

“He broke your heart.”

“Yeah.”

“And
then
you reported him?”

He shook himself and waved a hand at her forgotten food. “Listen to me, rambling on about ancient history. Eat while I take a shower. This grit and stink from the fire is getting to me.”

She knew her cue to drop a subject when she heard it, but she was still curious about his nightmare. “Wait. Going back to this dream, do you think it’s significant at all? Is there any chance he’d come for you now?”

The question visibly upset him, but he recovered fast. “The man I discovered he really was under the riveting facade was capable of anything. But after all these years? Why? I’m sure he has more important things to do than screw with me. Be back in a bit.”

After he left the room, she chewed slowly on her burger, thinking. That last part bothered her—
someone
was trying to get to Sean. She wished he had finished the rest of the story, but figured he would at some point.

Finishing her lunch, she disposed of her trash and wandered out to the living room, crossing it to hover near the hallway. She didn’t hear the shower running and thought he must be done. But he had just been released from the hospital after a life-threatening ordeal, and worry got the better of her. She tiptoed down the hallway, feeling like an intruder entering his personal domain, though she’d been here a few days before. Worry was stronger.

In the master bedroom, she paused at the sight before her. Sean lay curled on his side on the bed, dressed in nothing except a fresh pair of sweatpants. His hair was damp from the shower, the towel on the floor by the bed. His chest rose and fell in easy rhythm, a comforting and dear sight after yesterday.

The man was sound asleep.

Smiling, she toed off her shoes and crawled in beside him. Snuggled in, spooning him from behind. His contented sigh and the way his pushed his rear into her lap told her he had no objections.

Holding him close, she drifted off. Content, but not counting her chickens.

Yet.

Okay, so he hadn’t protested too much. When was the last time he’d been fussed over, even a little? No sane guy he knew would turn down some lovin’ from a pretty lady.

And where was his?

His.
Now, there was a scary thought. A possessive one that came more and more frequently, as though he and Eve were a given. Were they?

He told her personal stuff he’d never shared with another living soul, not even Howard. They connected on the most intimate level two people could. Even now, he looked forward to how her smile and sass would brighten his last day off and how they’d enjoy the hours together. He was ready to leap from the bed and go hunting for her, sneak up behind her. Pounce and kiss her breathless.

The world was new, filled with promise and—

“My God.”

I think I love her.

More terrifying than any blaze, more daunting than some wacko out to drive him to drink. Because embracing what he could have with her meant moving on, leaving the memories of his family behind as just that. Beloved treasures to tuck away in a box, slide onto a shelf.

Six months ago, the guilt would’ve killed him, and now . . .

Am I ready? Can I follow everyone’s advice and let go?

He didn’t have to know today, right this minute. A classic avoidance trick he was going to employ for his sanity, for the time being.

Sliding out of bed, naked, he headed for the bathroom, a spring in his step. He hadn’t had this much sex in a single week in, well, never. His marriage to Blair in later years had consisted of a lot of cuddling and kissing; her sex drive had never been as overcharged as his, and she’d hated getting messy.

And now the amazing encounters with Eve made him feel like Rip van Winkle waking up after a twenty-year slumber. All had changed.

After a quick shower, he toweled off and dressed in worn jeans and a dark blue T-shirt. He wasn’t nearly as tired as yesterday, his throat not as sore. But he still had a nagging cough and a weight on his chest he supposed might linger for a few days. Nothing serious.

The house was quiet and empty as he walked through on his way to the kitchen, and again he squelched a shard of disappointment. Eve didn’t answer to him and certainly wasn’t his keeper, but he’d hoped to find her here. Maybe curled up on the sofa or making breakfast.

In the kitchen, he spied a slip of paper by the coffee-maker and made a beeline for it. Read it and grinned.
Went home to change clothes—can’t go naked ALL the time. LOL. Coffee is set up. Be back soon. Love, Eve.

Just . . . damn. A bubble of happiness expanded his chest so much it hurt. Over a stupid little note.
Love.
A simple thing, yet when was the last time anyone had cared enough to write it down? Switching on the coffee, he realized he was humming. Another weird symptom of whatever bug had bitten him.

On impulse, he grabbed his jacket and stuffed a pocket with baby carrots from the fridge. Next he made three ham sandwiches on hoagies and placed those in a lunch cooler along with some chips and bottled water. Last, he filled a travel mug with coffee and, slapping on a lid, grabbed the lunch container, and left the house through the sliding glass door, crossing the deck and striking out for the barn. The fall day was gorgeous, leaves bursting in every tint of red, orange, and gold, and he planned to make the most of it. A certain blue-eyed woman with creamy latte skin and dark wavy hair was going to play a key role in those plans, too.

In the breezeway of the barn, he parked his mug and lunch box on a crate and strode into the tack room, fishing out two halters with lead ropes attached. He hadn’t been on a ride in far too long, and today the freedom of the lush, rolling hills was calling. Throwing one halter and rope over his shoulder, he held the other halter by the earpiece and looped the rope around his hand. As he exited the barn and headed for the gate, two of the four heads popped up and watched him curiously.

When he whistled through his teeth, Elvis and Mariah started toward him despite the halter, which could only mean being caught and saddled. They hadn’t been caught in so long, left to laze about every day, he hadn’t been completely sure they wouldn’t bolt. But Elvis was a good boy, standing still as he slid the halter over his nose and behind his ears, fastening it at his jaw.

“That’s it, big fella,” he said softly, scratching the furry ears. “Want to get out for a while, huh?” He continued heaping the praise, laughing when the mare nudged his shoulder, determined not to be left out.

Letting Elvis’ rope drop, he stepped on it and repeated the process on Mariah, who shied only a bit as the halter went on. The other two mares, who had moved away from them to graze, whinnied as he led their companions out the gate and closed it behind him. Horses were social creatures and reacted when any of their number left, greeted them when they returned. Sean had always thought it was kind of funny, but now he wondered if horses became truly distressed. He took comfort in knowing that in a couple of minutes they’d forget and go back to grazing.

Back in the barn, he fastened the horses’ lead ropes to rings on the wall, leaving a few feet between them to maneuver. Next he fetched two brushes and combs, then set all but a brush on the crate and went to work on Elvis. The big gelding practically sighed in bliss, leaning into the hard strokes as Sean cleaned away weeks of dirt and mud from his sides and belly.

“Feels good? Wouldn’t mind getting the same treatment myself.”

“I’ll tie you up and see what I can do.”

Eve’s sultry voice—not to mention that image—set his groin on fire and had him grinning as he straightened and met her amused gaze over the gelding’s back. “If anyone’s going to be tied up, it’s you, honey.”

“Think so?”

“I know so.”

She strolled toward him, her mood playful. “Will I like it?”

“Guaranteed or your money back.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll require a refund.”

Sweet Jesus, she looked edible in snug jeans, her hair loose around the shoulders of her rust-colored cotton shirt. A little defiant, too, and he liked that. A lot.

“Come here and grab a brush.”

“I just got here and already you’re putting me to work.” But she appeared eager as she approached.

“Slow,” he cautioned. “Never approach a horse too fast or make any sudden moves, no matter how tame they are. And if you walk around their back end, don’t get too close in case one kicks.”

Taking his advice, she slowed her steps and gave both horses’ rear ends a respectful distance. “Is it their day at the salon?” she teased, coming around to where he stood brushing Elvis.

“More like a quick brushing, a workout, and then a grooming. Up for a ride?”

Her animated expression betrayed excitement. “I’d love to. I haven’t ridden since Girl Scout camp, though.”

“It’s not hard. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He handed her the extra brush. “Why don’t you spoil Mariah? She loves to be brushed and she’ll be your best buddy from now on.”

“Sure.” Tool in hand, she turned to the mare and applied the bristly side to her smooth neck. Like most novices, she barely put any muscle into the strokes.

“Harder, like this.” He demonstrated, putting his elbow into it, chuckling as Elvis practically lay over on him in pleasure.

“Okay.” She copied his example, and soon both horses were ready for saddling.

“All right, that should do it. Let me get the tack and we’ll saddle them.”

He made a couple of trips fetching thick blankets, saddles, and bridles, then motioned her to watch while he readied the gelding. The blanket went on first, and then he tossed the saddle onto the gelding’s back. He reached under the horse’s belly to grab the cinch and tighten it through the ring on his side—and laughed.

“What?” Eve looked on in curiosity.

“See his stomach? An old equine trick. He’s holding his breath.”

“Why would he—oh! He doesn’t want the strap thingie to be tight.”

“Exactly. And in the middle of our ride, he’ll let out his breath and the cinch will loosen, which can dump a rider on his or her ass when the saddle slips sideways.”

“So how do you prevent that from happening?” She seemed truly interested.

“Watch.”

Reaching under the gelding’s belly, he tickled the big guy’s stomach just like one would tickle a baby. The horse released a breath and he tightened the cinch, tying it off before the stomach bloated again.

“See? Easy.”

She laughed. “Neat tactic.”

“It works almost every time. Want to saddle your ride?”

“Sure. How difficult can it be?”

“Quite, if your mount is in a surly mood. Most days, though, these guys are very cooperative.”

In short order, she had Mariah saddled. He helped show her how tight the cinch should be to prevent a fall, and then all that was left was the bridles. Removing the halter, he slipped the bit between the gelding’s teeth and fastened the bridle, holding the reins securely.

“Good boy,” he praised, fishing a baby carrot from his pocket. He held out his hand, palm flat, and Elvis snatched the treat with his lips and began to chew. Giving his attention to Eve, he said, “Your turn.”

After a brief hesitation, she mirrored his procedure. She might be a rookie, but she wasn’t afraid, he gave her that. It made him beyond happy to see her sharing one of his passions. Even if Mariah clamped her teeth together and refused to take the bit.

“Uh, what now? She won’t open up.”

Reaching into his pocket, he handed her a carrot. “Give her this. Put it in your palm and hold your hand out flat. When she takes the treat, slip in the bit.”

“Sneaky.” It worked like a charm, and she squealed in delight. “I did it! Why do they fall for that? I wonder.”

“I don’t think they fall for anything so much as they simply choose to tolerate us. If a horse truly doesn’t want to do something, no man can make him.”

“Hmm, makes sense. Are we going now?”

“Let me strap the blanket and our lunch on the back and we’re ready.”

“Lunch?” She eyed the container, apparently noticing it for the first time. “A picnic?”

“Nothing fancy, just ham sandwiches and chips. Is that all right with you?”

“Sounds great!”

Her enthusiasm was catching and he realized he was looking forward to this immensely. “Come around on her left side, grab the saddle horn with your left hand, and place your left foot in the stirrup. I’ll be right here beside you and she’s not going anywhere.”

As Eve got into place, he looped the reins over the mare’s head and tucked them into Eve’s left hand. “Hold the reins and the saddle horn—this way when you mount, she’ll be in your control. Now bounce a couple of times, haul yourself up, and swing your right leg over.”

The first attempt was aborted as the mare sensed that Eve didn’t know what she was doing and danced a bit. Sean calmed the horse and urged Eve to try again. This time was successful, and she grinned from ear to ear.

“Oh, wow. This is like sitting on top of a building!”

“Always feels that way the first few times.” He took her hands and showed her how to hold the reins. “Not too tight or she’ll back up. Just a bit loose, like this. When you want to go left or right, just move your arm in that direction, lay the reins on her neck gently, and she’ll follow directions. When you want to stop, pull back gently and say, ‘Whoa.’ Don’t ever jerk back hard because their mouths are very sensitive. Got all that?”

“I think so.” She didn’t look sure.

“Don’t worry.” He patted her knee. “I’ll take the lead and she’ll follow Elvis. She’s a sweet-tempered soul, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry.”

After securing the blanket and lunch container, he swung onto Elvis’ back, urging him out of the barn. He guided them alongside his fenced-in pasture to where it finally ended, taking them into the hills and to freedom. Her giggles did nothing to ease the stranglehold his jeans had on his cock, or loosen the vise around his heart. God, he was a goner.

Once they’d gone half a mile or so, the trail widened some. He waited for her to bring the mare alongside him, and they rode in companionable silence until she gave in to the questions he could see churning in her head.

“Sean?”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t really talk much about your life growing up. Did you go to school here?”

“Chattanooga. My parents lived there until right before I married Blair, when I was still in the service. My dad was a pilot and was killed in a single-engine plane crash, and my mother died of cancer the next year. We were all close.”

“Oh, Sean. I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” But the pain of loss never completely went away. “I have family in Texas, my uncle Joe, aunt Clara, and my cousins and their kids. I’m pretty close to them, too, though I don’t get to visit often. So, when do I get to meet your mother?”