Run Wild (31 page)

“All of which would make you look like a fool when Trent shows up and learns what their condition actually is.” And maybe it wasn’t a person at all.

What if someone was dead inside the cabin?

“And what if you stand here and think of a hundred possibilities of what might, or might not, be in that damn cabin until Trent shows up?” she chastised herself and kicked hard enough at the ground to hurt her toe. “Serves you right, you big baby.”

Natasha forced one boot in front of the other while her mouth went terribly dry from nerves. Sweat spread over her flesh under her clothes, giving her chills. And her phone slid in her hands.

Lord! Talk about chickenshit.

She sucked in a breath, kicked the door open farther with her boot. She kicked it hard, too. If anyone was inside, let them jump in fear and surprise and yelp like an idiot. Her toe throbbed even harder.

Natasha didn’t hear a sound. The flashlight app had shut itself off, and she tapped her screen, pulling it back up again. It beamed brightly across the top half of the cabin.

“Okay, who are you?” she demanded, and pinned the beam on the far corner of the cabin.

No one answered her. But then, no one was there.

Natasha frowned at what had appeared to be a person collapsed against the wall with their legs stretched out in front of them. She held her phone up, her hand still shaky and her heart still racing. Suddenly she fought the urge to laugh. Instead she cleared her throat, afraid if she let one chuckle erupt from her throat, she would break down in a fit of hysterical giggles. But it had been an understandable mistake.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, her desire to laugh fading when her heart quit pounding in her chest and her mind cleared. She scowled further and wondered about her need to talk out loud, even though she wasn’t talking but whispering so she barely heard herself. She could hear her thoughts just as well.

And she still didn’t understand.

Natasha shoved the door with her body, letting in all light possible, then walked closer to what she thought had been a person in the corner of the cabin. There were tan work pants, work boots, and a plaid button-down shirt. Bundled at the head was a tan down jacket. As she flashed her light over the clothing, it struck her as odd that they were laid out in the shape of a person. Someone had intentionally positioned them to make it look like there was a person in the corner of the cabin.

Strange … and creepy.

Walking further inside, she squatted down next to them, almost choking on a putrid smell that had grown stronger the closer she’d came to the clothing. There were dark stains all over the shirt and on the pants as well. The same discolorations appeared to be on the jacket. Even the work boots were stained.

“What the hell?” she gasped, this time not whispering.

Natasha was gulping in fresh air as soon as she was out of the cabin. She and Midnight both looked up at the sound of someone coming, and on horseback. By the repetition of the hooves clomping over the rocky ground, he was coming at a really fast clip.

“My God, Trent, did you race all the way here?” she called out, grinning as she walked around the large boulder blocking her view of the path where she and Midnight had come up the mountain.

“Trent?” Rebecca Burrows held the reins of her rather spirited horse. “Don’t tell me the daughter of the killer in Weaverville is dating our sheriff.” She grinned a very toothy grin and looked like a completely different person from the one Natasha had met at her mother’s home in Redding.

“‘Daughter of the killer’?” Natasha demanded.

Midnight didn’t appear thrilled to have his privacy violated and whinnied a complaint. Rebecca’s spotted horse moved sideways, his eyes almost bulging as he glared at Midnight.

“My bad,” Rebecca said, pulling on her reins and turning her horse away from Midnight. “Accused killer, and you know I told you I believe he didn’t do it. But Trent? I only know one Trent around here, Natasha. Come on; you can tell me.”

Natasha had moved over to Midnight and was stroking his nose and holding his head close but keeping her eye on Rebecca. The young woman’s cheeks were flushed and her hair curled around her face. Those catlike eyes of hers danced with amusement as she softened her smile but studied Natasha.

Another rider came to a halt alongside Rebecca, a man with dark hair streaked with gray. He had to be twice Rebecca’s age. He was a big man, tall and thick muscled. Instead of focusing on Natasha, he looked past her at the cabin. Or at least it looked as if that’s where his attention was focused.

Natasha had no idea this was such a commonly used riding trail. Maybe that was why Midnight had wanted to come this way. It might have been a path he had been used to taking. It didn’t look like a riding trail though. She glanced down. The only hoof prints were Midnight’s, and now the two other horses’.

Rebecca turned and looked at her riding partner. Then inching her horse closer, they whispered to each other. It was really rather rude. When Rebecca glanced over at Natasha her smile was gone.

“Is the sheriff with you?” she asked.

“No.” Natasha thought about mentioning that he was on his way. She imagined in a town the size of Weaverville something like this could turn into gossip that might very well hurt Trent. This was his town, his people, and his reputation mattered more than what anyone might think of her.

“But you said his name. You’re expecting him?”

“If you’re concerned for my safety out here alone, I’m a very competent rider.” Natasha decided shifting the conversation in a different direction was better than lying, especially if they were to pass Trent when they headed back. There really was nowhere to go from here. Beyond the clearing it turned into a wall of jagged cliffs and large boulders.

Rebecca glanced at the cabin and her expression turned just as her riding partner’s had. But when she shifted her gaze to Natasha, Rebecca smiled easily.

“Good, and I was,” she offered easily. “We won’t keep you.” Then making a show of glancing at the sky, she gave Natasha a knowing look. “Better not stay up here too long. They’re calling for more snow, you know. I’d hate to think what could happen to you and your pretty horse if he were to slip and break a leg if it gets too slick.”

“Thanks,” Natasha said, and watched when Rebecca turned her horse around and headed back the way they came.

The man with her shot one last look Natasha’s way, or was it at the cabin?

A mean chill shot down Natasha’s spine. Rebecca’s morbid warning was almost as creepy as the entire encounter had been. Maybe it was for the benefit of the man she’d been with, but her entire manner was different from how she’d behaved at her mother’s home the day before.

How many times had Uncle Greg said that when something seems wrong with a situation, it’s often because there is something wrong with it?

Chapter Fourteen

“Tell me everything again.”

“I didn’t forget anything,” Natasha protested, and glared at Trent as he stared at her with his dark, brooding eyes. She knew suspects and witnesses alike were often interrogated repeatedly to ensure every detail they knew was documented. “I’ve told you everything in the order it happened and exactly how it happened.”

“Would you recognize this man if you saw him again?” Trent asked.

It was interesting that after she left the small area by the cabin with Midnight, and met up with Trent less than ten minutes later, Trent hadn’t seen Rebecca and her male companion. The only thing she could figure was that Rebecca and the man rode along the edge of the mountains instead of toward town. Natasha did a good job of detailing out her encounter with the two of them to Trent while they rode side by side back to his house. She even told him about the cabin and dirty clothes she’d found inside, although she left out the part about being scared to death when she’d first entered.

Natasha returned to her task of brushing Midnight down. He stood tall, appearing proud, as if he knew how beautiful he could look with his mane detangled and flowing straight down his neck. Natasha had brushed him until his black coat glowed and every single muscle in her body screamed for mercy.

“I’m sure I would.” She glanced around Midnight at Trent.

Dawn was already in her stall, and Trent had finished hanging Midnight’s saddle next to hers. He reached for a pitchfork leaning against an empty stall, and both horses perked up. Natasha hurried and finished brushing down Midnight. She nuzzled his nose for a moment, but Midnight had switched loyalties, giving his full attention to Trent.

“I’ll put him in his stall,” Trent offered, stabbing the pitchfork into the hay and leaving it there. Midnight stomped his hooves on the barn floor when Trent took him. “Don’t give me any grief, old man,” Trent said to the horse, although there was no harshness to his words. “You can’t complain about a thing today. But promise me, no more manipulating the guests.”

Natasha watched the exchange between man and beast. Trent spoke to Midnight as if he knew the horse understood him. Midnight’s body language, the way he snorted, tossed his head, or simply stamped his feet, suggested he understood Trent completely.

She thought she had built a rather solid rapport with the horse, but now Midnight cozied up next to Trent and ignored her. Seeing the two together put her suspicions to rest that the horse had been ignored because he’d been Trent’s father’s horse.

“He hardly manipulated me,” Natasha said, feeling a bit left out and at the same time telling herself it was silly to feel that way. It wasn’t as if she would have time to bond with either horse. “I saw you leave when I entered the barn and I wanted to ride also.”

“If I knew you could ride—,” he began, looking past Midnight at her.

She shrugged. “I didn’t know you had horses.”

Trent returned to the pitchfork and lifted hay for each of the horses. As he fed them he whispered to each of them, mixing the straw with something he had in a large pitcher that looked like oats. He finished off their meal by offering first Dawn, then Midnight, an apple.

“Promise me something.” Trent left Midnight and walked up to Natasha. He smelled of leather and horse and the mountains and everything wild and untamed. But his tousled hair, fierce jawline, and piercing gaze fit his lawman image.

“If I can,” she said truthfully, holding her head high when he approached.

“Don’t leave here again without making sure I know where you’re going first.” Trent was the final authority of all around him. He looked down at her, waiting for her to agree, as his expression relaxed and he brushed his thumb and finger over her chin. “We’ve got a killer among us, and until I have him behind bars you might not be as safe as you think you are.”

She doubted many challenged him and would bet money no lady in the county ever told him no or disagreed with him. “I guess now that I have your personal cell…,” she began, lifting her shoulder and dropping it lazily. She’d confirmed earlier the number he’d called her from was his cell phone and one he kept separate from business.

“I know you’re tough, Natasha. You can probably handle yourself better than most in a tricky situation. And I’m sure there isn’t a lady, or even most men, in Weaverville who holds a flame to your abilities.” He continued holding her chin, keeping her head slightly tilted back as he sang her praises. “But you’re George King’s daughter. Someone has it out for him as much as they had it out for Carl Williams, and that puts a rather dangerous mark on your head. I’ll go take a look at that cabin you found in the morning.”

“Do you think it’s necessary?” Natasha couldn’t say why that cabin gave her the creeps.

“You said yourself Rebecca and the man with her rode into the narrow clearing where you found the cabin. I’m curious why they were headed there. If the cabin is simply another one of the many dilapidated structures left over from the mining days, we don’t have anything to worry about. But you said there were clothes in there.”

“They looked old. They were stained and smelled terrible.”

“Okay. And in the meantime remember what I said. We don’t want any harm coming to King’s daughter.”

“You think he’s innocent.” It wasn’t what Trent wanted her to accept and she understood the danger wrapped around the entire town until this murder was solved and the murderer put behind bars. Hearing him say what he did about her father caused something inside her to shift and create a warmth that immediately swelled between her legs. “You have no idea—”

“Yes, I do.” He didn’t let her finish but lowered his mouth and captured her lip with his teeth.

Trent nibbled a moment before pushing his tongue between her lips and kissing her. Natasha relaxed, letting her head tilt back farther, and opened for him. Her arms remained limp at her sides when he embraced her and bent her backward, causing her world to shift and damn near spin out of control.

It would be insane to fall for this man. But even keeping it physical appeared to be broaching dangerous territory. Trent had mad skills. He did things with his mouth no man had ever done to her before. She could get addicted to his body, her body easily becoming unable to function without attention from him on a very regular basis.

His tongue moved around hers, taking control and spiraling the two of them into a world of carnal lust. Within seconds Natasha no longer cared about the sore muscles throughout her body. She wanted Trent now, here in the barn, without pretenses or foreplay.