was large, like in a mountain-man-horror-film type of big, which directly opposed the odd tendril of attraction she felt when those green eyes flickered with a small degree of warmth. Her body ached, her side felt like an inferno and testiness quickly replaced any lingering terror.
She ignored her unreliable feelings where men were concerned and blurted out, “I said, where’s my dog?” There! That came out sounding firm and in control. At least she hoped it did.
A sound came from a lower wall beside the kitchen counter and a portion of the wall lifted inward, allowing Tinker Bell inside the cabin. Mary Grace’s fingers tightened on the plaid blanket thrown over her and she was really wishing she’d brought the gun safely tucked away in her Arlington town house with her.
Her eyes widened when Tink approached the bed and the big wolf dog moved to the side so her baby could hop up beside her. She held Tinker Bell to her chest, closed her eyes and said a quick prayer, asking the good Lord to keep her safe, then took a deep fortifying breath and lifted her lids. She subdued the nervous laughter bubbling up inside her as she wondered if the man had even blinked while her eyes were closed. He hadn’t moved a muscle since she’d woken up.
“Who sent you?” His words sounded gruff and rusty, as if he didn’t talk much.
“Are you Mountain Man?” She inwardly rolled her eyes. Thus far, they had exchanged a few two-and three-word sentences. Her colleagues would find her situation amusing because she was widely known as a shark disguised as a soft-spoken Southern woman. She had a talent for squeezing every tiny bit of information out of the politicians on Capitol Hill without their even realizing it. She attributed her success to her Southern upbringing, and she didn’t think those particular attributes would work on this big, solid mountain man, but she’d give it her best shot.
She dug deep and dredged up a sweet, soft smile. He couldn’t have been the person trying to kill her on the mountain. He’d had plenty of opportunity to do away with her and hide her body while she was unconscious. Her fake smile wavered as she felt the bindings on her side pull and she wondered if this crazy mountain man had patched her up, but she kept her smile in place.
“Why don’t we start over. My name is Mary Grace Ramsey, and no one sent me. Well, that’s actually not true. My brother did send me, but that’s a long story and I need to find a man everyone refers to as Mountain Man. The sheriff in Jackson Hole said people around here call him Ned. He’s supposed to help me. But then I got lost on the mountain and someone started shooting—”
“Stop!”
His bellowed word sounded pained and he rubbed his forehead.
“Do you have a headache? Maybe you should take some aspirin. I’ve always found that—”
“Stop!” he bellowed once again. “Just be quiet for a moment.”
Her chattering was already working. This wasn’t a simple mountain man. Under duress, his short verbal gruffness had revealed a sophisticated speech with an underlying Scottish brogue.
He closed his eyes for a minute, then blinked them back open. “Are you for real?”
Mary Grace rubbed Tink’s head. Time to make good use of her famous interview skills. “I’m not sure how to answer that question, but if you’re Ned, then we definitely have several things to discuss, and sooner would be better, considering someone shot me earlier.”
Seeing the stunned look on his face, she gave him a big, warm Georgian smile.
He attempted to smile back, but it looked more like a feral grin, throwing her game back in her face. “Who’s your brother?”
He had picked out the key part of her chattering, which shouted of intelligence. She’d have to tread carefully around this man.
“Well, technically, he’s my stepbrother, but I refer to him as my real brother because we’re very close.”
His chair slid back as he stood and walked to the side of her bed. Her fingers tightened on Tinker Bell as he towered over her. He was even larger than she had originally thought, but she forced her hands to relax.
“Your brother’s name?”
It really made her mad when her hands shook. “Bobby Lancaster.”
His eyes narrowed, and his large hands fisted at his sides. Deep, abiding fear sliced through Mary Grace, but she gallantly lifted her chin and glared at him.
He leaned over her and Tink and his long beard tickled her chin, he was so close. “Where is he?” he breathed in an ominous tone.
Fury filled Ned when Bobby Lancaster’s name rolled off her lips. It didn’t help his disposition that he found the irritating woman beautiful, either. She had light brown hair with sun-kissed streaks winding through the strands, and those golden eyes of hers were enough to bring a man to his knees. He imagined her soft-spoken Southern accent encouraged people, both men and women, to spill all their well-kept secrets.
He refused to fall into her trap.
“Where’s Bobby?” Anger made his words sound harsh. He almost regretted his question when she scooted away from him, toward the wall that the bed was pushed against, but he didn’t move.
The rat growled, but Ned ignored it until his own dog pushed his way between Ned and the bed. He was stunned. Krieger was protecting the woman and her dog. He growled at Krieger and his dog growled back. He couldn’t believe this little slip of a woman had turned his trusted companion against him.
Ned knew his mother would have been appalled at the way he was treating Mary Grace Ramsey, and his dog might have decided to trust her, but that little ping he’d felt in his heart right after she spoke for the first time and defended her rat dog went still. A dark wall of mistrust replaced any minute tender feelings he had allowed himself to feel.
His gut clenched when her lower lip quivered, but he felt justified in his wariness when she pasted on another warm smile.
“I take it you know my brother, and that must mean you’re Mountain Man, or rather Ned. I’m so glad I found you. You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through—”
“Stop!”
Ned backed away from the woman and winced at the expression of relief on her face. Maybe he did need an aspirin. He grabbed the wooden chair from in front of the fireplace, flipped it backward close to the side of the bed and straddled it. He nudged Krieger out of the way, leaned forward and folded his arms across the back of the chair.
“Let’s start over. Yes, I’m Ned. I want to know exactly why you’re on my mountain and I would highly advise you to tell the truth.”
She scrunched up her pert little nose. “My gram would have something to say about your manners and hospitality.”
He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest and waited. It took less than two seconds. The woman could probably talk the hair off a dog.
“Fine. You know my name. Bobby is my brother, and two days ago I found a note from him that someone had slipped into my tote bag. It said he’s in big trouble, but that he’s innocent and for
