Hot Zone. Elle James
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She squared her shoulders. “You’re looking at the sum total of ranch hands on the Stone Oak Ranch.”
His gaze raked over her from top to toe. “You’re serious?”
Lifting her chin, Liv faced him with all the bravado of a prizefighter. “I’m fully capable of mending fences and taking care of livestock. I learned to ride a horse before I learned to walk.”
“You’re alone.” His word wasn’t a question. It was more of a statement. “Have you been living in a cocoon, lady? Are you even aware of what’s been happening around your little community of Grizzly Pass?”
Raising her chin a little higher, Liv met the man’s stare. “I haven’t been home in the past nine months. My father didn’t let me know about any of this. I just got back into town when I was notified of his passing. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to meet Jonah at the tavern in a few minutes.”
She pushed past him and thought that was the end of it.
A hand reached out and grabbed her arm, yanking her back around.
She raised a brow and stared down at Hawkeye’s big fingers. “Let go of me.”
“You’re not safe out on that ranch by yourself. A man with access to dynamite passed through your place.”
She had already come to the same conclusion, but knew she didn’t have a choice. The ranch couldn’t run itself and she’d be damned if she sold out to that greedy, bottom-dwelling Mr. Rausch. “I’m fine on my own. I learned to handle a gun almost as early as I learned to ride a horse. I’m not afraid of being alone.”
“You should be.” He sighed and released her arm. “Look, at least come with me to talk to my boss. He’ll want to hear what’s going on out your way.”
“Are you crazy?” She shook her head. “I don’t know you from Jack.”
He held out his hand again. “At the risk of repeating myself, my name’s Trace Walsh, but my friends call me—”
She waved away his hand. “Yeah, yeah. They call you Hawkeye.” With a shrug, she stared down Main Street toward the tavern. “Just who is your boss?”
“Kevin Garner, an agent for the Department of Homeland Security.”
Her curiosity captured, she returned her attention to Hawkeye. “Is that it? Is that why you were out in the mountains? You work for the DHS?”
Hawkeye shook his head. “Not hardly. I’m an army ranger on loan to the DHS. This is only temporary duty to help Garner and his team. He seems to think there’s enough activity going on in this area that he needed a hand.”
Liv didn’t say anything, just stared at the man with the crisp, black hair and incredibly blue eyes. Perhaps Hawkeye’s boss was onto something. Liv had never quite swallowed the idea that her father had fallen off his horse and died instantly. He was a good rider. No, he was the best, and had the rodeo buckles to prove it. The man had ridden broncos when he was younger and still broke wild horses. When he was on a horse, he wasn’t just on it—he was a part of it. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to talk to your boss.” She raised her finger. “But don’t ever try to kiss me again.”
Hawkeye raised his hands, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Those lips that had awakened a flood of unwanted desire inside Liv. For a stranger, no less. “Don’t worry. I like my women willing.”
“And quiet.”
“Not necessarily.” He winked. “Just quiet when they need to be.”
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “Just don’t kiss me. I can do a lot more than slap.”
He rubbed the side of his cheek where the red imprint of her hand had just begun to fade. “I’ll remember that. Next time we kiss, you’ll have to initiate.”
“Good. Because that will never happen.” She planted her fists on her hips. “So where is your boss? I’d like to get this meeting over with. I have a ride to catch.”
“You’re in luck. His office is over the Blue Moose Tavern.” He flung his leg over the four-wheeler and jerked his head to the rear. “You’re welcome to ride with me.”
“No, thanks. I’ll walk.” Liv stepped onto the sidewalk and hurried toward the tavern.
The four-wheeler engine revved behind her. A moment later, Hawkeye pulled up beside her. “Sure you don’t want a ride?”
“I’m sure.”
He pressed his thumb to the throttle lever and the ATV sped up the street, disappearing around the back of the tavern.
Alone for the rest of the distance to the tavern, Liv had just enough time to think through all that had happened since she’d arrived home. For a moment her predicament threatened to overwhelm her.
Daddy, why did you have to go and die?
She fought to hold back the tears as she came abreast of the building she’d been aiming for.
Hawkeye rounded the corner and tilted his head. “The staircase to Garner’s office is over here.”
She followed him up a set of wooden stairs to the landing at the top.
Before Hawkeye could knock, the door flew open and a man probably in his midthirties with brown hair and blue eyes stood in the door frame. “Hawkeye, I’m glad you stopped by. The sheriff isn’t keen on the folks around here driving their four-wheelers on the main roads.”
Hawkeye turned toward Liv. “Kevin, this is Olivia Dawson. Liv, this is Kevin Garner with the DHS.”
Garner held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.” His eyes narrowed slightly and he stared hard at her. “Are you any relation to Everett Dawson?”
She nodded, her chest tight. “That was my father.”
Garner squeezed her hand in his. “I was sorry to hear about his passing. Everything I’ve heard from the locals indicated he was a good man.”
“One of the best,” she added, choking on her barely contained emotion. “They told me he died in a horseback-riding accident.”
“That’s what we heard from the sheriff. And you think otherwise?” Garner pulled her across the threshold. “Come in. Tell me what you know.”
Liv hesitated only a moment before following the man into the interior of what appeared to be more an operations center than an office. Two other men stood beside a large table with maps spread out across its surface.
“If you knew my father, you’d know his being thrown from a horse was highly unlikely.”
Garner nodded. “I’d wondered. I understand his ranch butted up against government property.”
Liv nodded. “It does.”
“Was he having any problems on the ranch? Any evidence of trespassing?”
“I’ve