return the wasted hours they’d spent waiting for the lioness’s appearance.
“I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Alex Markham.”
“My new assistant?” Meghan swallowed hard. Mr. Cowboy wasn’t at all what she’d expected. “You were supposed to arrive yesterday.”
“I apologize. I missed my flight out of Amsterdam.”
“My boss assured me you could handle the work. What do you know about filming wildlife and making documentaries?”
“Apparently enough for your boss to give me this job.”
She frowned, still unimpressed. If he had any real credentials, he’d have mentioned them. The way he was dodging the question seemed to indicate that he had no direct experience at all. Surely he wasn’t serious. She’d asked for a film student, not some Texas ranch hand.
She let out a sharp humph. The last thing she needed right now was an unqualified assistant. She’d come a long way from her days as school-newspaper editor at her high school. Since then, she’d moved on to producing short films and online promotional pieces for businesses. The opportunity to make this wildlife documentary held with it the power to propel her further into the world of film, but she needed this footage—and a qualified replacement assistant—to pull it all together.
A twig snapped in the distance. She stared out into the bush, looking for movement. She’d have to deal with Mr. Lone Star later, because something wasn’t right. Someone else was out here.
She turned back to him, her brow furrowed. “Do you smoke?”
“Smoke?” The question clearly caught him off guard. “No. Why?”
“I want you to drive back to the spot where you picked me up.”
He shook his head as if she was crazy. “In case you forgot, there was a very unhappy rhino back there that I, for one, would prefer to avoid running into again.”
“And in case you forgot, an assistant is supposed to assist. Are you going to drive or do I need to?”
Alex hesitated briefly, then spun the vehicle around and headed back toward the clearing.
Meghan leaned into the seat, battling nerves that had settled in the pit of her stomach. If the mystery smoker wasn’t Mr. Cowboy, then who was he? And what had he been doing in the middle of nowhere with no one but Meghan’s crew, an angry rhino and a litter of lion cubs in range?
* * *
Alex knew he’d blown their introduction the moment Meghan jumped into the Jeep. The scowl on her face communicated clearly that he’d failed the first test miserably. He strummed his fingers against the steering wheel, then swerved to avoid a reddish termite mound sticking out of the uneven terrain.
He glanced at her again. Khaki shorts, army-green T-shirt and hiking boots were topped off with a straw sun hat and sunglasses to block the South African sun. She looked tough and capable, not at all like someone in need of protection. But protecting her was exactly why he was there.
His father’s pleas reverberated in his mind. It’s a favor for an old army buddy of mine, Ambassador Jordan. He’s received threats on his life in connection with upcoming local elections in the country where he serves. In the last threat, they mentioned his daughter. Said that they know where she is. She won’t accept a security detail, so you’d have to be discreet. It would just be until the elections are over....
Sending threats to an American ambassador was a risky move from someone within the opposing party—and so far the threat hadn’t been backed up by anything credible—but Alex understood Ambassador Jordan’s determination to not take any chances when it came to his daughter’s life. Alex knew all too well the way it could crush a man when he failed to protect the ones he loved. The ambassador was wise to take precautions—wiser than Alex had been.
In the end, though, it wasn’t just his past griefs or his decade in law enforcement, dedicated to the pursuit of justice, that made him take this assignment. No, his coming had little to do with Meghan. It was the chance to revisit his mother’s homeland—something that had been gnawing at the back of his mind—that had eventually clinched the deal.
A flood of memories, untapped for years, rushed over him. As an eleven-year-old, he’d watched the kids walk by in their school uniforms in front of his grandparents’ house. He remembered his ouma feeding him milk tarts and hunting with his oupa. They’d passed away years ago, but he still missed them. Just like he missed his mother.
He shoved the unwanted memories aside. He needed to find out what was going on.
“What are you after?”
“I’m not sure.” She stared straight ahead at the narrow, open path through the bush leading back toward where he’d first noticed the rhino. “Something isn’t right. We’ve had issues with poachers, and I need to ensure that they’re not back.”
Poachers?
Alex wove through the uneven terrain. Just what they needed—another complication. Nothing like throwing a firecracker into the mix of an already explosive situation.
He slowed down as the bush opened up around them. A giraffe lumbered in the distance before stopping to graze. Alex didn’t let the peaceful scene distract him. He was used to the occasional cattle rustlers back on his father’s ranch, but even he knew enough to realize that rhino poaching was a serious and often deadly business.
“Stop here.”
Alex pushed on the brakes, not sure whether or not he wanted to get out from the relative safety of the Jeep. He’d had enough wildlife encounters for one day.
The only other animal he could see was a harmless-looking zebra grazing in the distance. “Are you sure it’s safe to walk around here?”
“You don’t need to worry. The rhino we encountered is probably at least a half a mile from here by now. She was as nervous as we were.”
“But does she have friends? That’s what I want to know.”
Meghan laughed for the first time. “It’s possible, but most of them will keep their distance if they hear us, unless you have another bright idea about getting between a mother and her babies. Don’t forget, there is the lion you scared away in this area, too. We were filming Kibibi and her cubs this morning right over there.” She pointed to a clump of grass covering up a small inlet.
“They’re the subject of the documentary, right?”
“That’s right.”
“You think poachers have been out here looking for them?”
“Maybe. More likely, the rhino was their target. Just look for anything that might confirm someone else was out here.”
Besides their own footsteps through the dry brush and a few birds chirping, the afternoon was still.
Alex started walking parallel to her, hoping he didn’t come across as knowing what he was doing. After ten years as a Texas Ranger, investigative tactics had become like second nature. “You knew I was coming, right?”
“Yes.
