Chapter One
Love was a language everyone spoke, but few were fluent. Elle was definitely one of those who struggled.
It wasn’t the concept of love that she found difficult to embrace—a union of souls so enmeshed that nothing and no one could come between them. At least, that was what the fairy tales that had been spoon-fed to her as a child and adolescent had told her. Perhaps it was these insipid stories that had set her up for failure in the relationship department. According to those stories, love was built on a foundation of ball gowns, champagne and whispers of forever, while reality peppered her with missed dates, drunken late-night phone calls and broken promises. As far as she could tell, love was all a lie.
The three-year-old girl standing before her was just another reminder of the consequences to the innocent when lies and love went too far.
“Ms. Elle?” she said, her voice high and pleading, though she had asked no real question.
“What is it, Lily babe?” Elle smiled down at the little blonde whose hands were covered with the remnants of cotton candy and pocket lint. She reached into her purse and pulled out a packet of baby wipes.
She was really starting to get this whole caretaker thing down.
“No,” Lily said, pouting as she put her hands behind her back and stuffed her cherubic cheeks into the shoulder of her jacket.
Or maybe Elle wasn’t doing quite as well as she thought.
“Just a quick wipe and then you can head back out to the swings. Okay?”
“I want juice.” Lily smiled, her eyes big and bright. It reminded Elle of her dog, Daisy.
She put the wipes back and handed her a box of apple juice from her bag. “Only one, okay?”
Lily didn’t say anything as she took the juice box, walked over to the sandbox and plopped down, already chatting with a new friend.
She had just been worked over by a toddler. Damn.
Before long, and after a series of carefully constructed arguments on Lily’s side, they found themselves headed back to the Clark house. They walked up the steps to the front door of the colonial-style home, a throwback to the type of residence built by people who’d come to the wilderness of Montana to make their fortunes—and succeeded. The house was hardly the only sign of generational wealth. Everything, down to the three-year-old’s shoes, wing tips she would likely only wear once, spoke of what old money could buy.
When Elle had been three, she had been running barefoot through the sands of Liberia while her parents were taking contracts and acting as spooks for the United States government. Though they had been gone for several years now, she missed them.
The door swung open before they even reached it, and Catherine stepped out. She sent Elle a composed smile, the woman’s trademark—a look of benevolence and influence all wrapped into one.
“She was perfect, as per usual,” Elle said, watching as Lily slipped behind her mother’s legs and disappeared into the belly of the house without so much as a backward wave. “Bye, little one!” she called after Lily.
It was a good thing she wasn’t a sensitive soul or the little girl’s apathy at her leaving would have broken her heart. Actually, it did hurt a little, but she would never let it show.
Catherine looked after her daughter but didn’t say anything as the girl shuffled up the stairs.
Watching Lily’s toddling steps up made Elle’s skin prickle. She couldn’t believe Catherine was letting the girl ascend to the second floor without a helping hand. One little slip, one poorly planted foot and Lily could have been lost to them all—and that girl was a gift. Everywhere she went she left the glitter of laughter.
“Do you want me to help her up to her room?” Elle said, stepping into the parlor.
“No,” Catherine said, waving her off.
In the living room to her left, there was a group of men standing around and talking. They were all wearing suits and ties, except one, who was dressed in khakis and had a stinking cigar wedged into the corner of his mouth and a tumbler of scotch in his hand. The men looked like models for a fraternity’s alum party or a political gathering.
“Thank you for taking her. It is appreciated.” Catherine reached over for her purse, like she was going to pay Elle as if she was nothing more than a teenage babysitter.
She stopped her with a wave of her hand. “No, ma’am, please don’t.”
“I know I pay your company, but you need a tip at the very least.”
She wasn’t an hourly charge kind of woman, and the only reason she had agreed to take this security position was because she was the most temperate of the Spades. The boys would have handled the little girl like she was an egg, especially given the fact that Lily’s father was a senator.
Elle couldn’t give two shakes who the girl’s parents were, except right now, when she was forced to face the fact that Catherine’s focus was on her friends and not on her baby. Elle hadn’t even seen the senator since she had taken the security position three months ago.
She had to reserve her judgments about the family. Her interactions were limited to drop-offs, pickups and little else. Catherine had made a point of not letting her interact with Lily when she was around.
Catherine stuffed a $100 bill into her hand. Part of her wanted to throw it on the ground and tell her to screw off, but instead she slipped it into her pocket. As she did, Catherine closed the door in her face.
It was no wonder the woman’s daughter wasn’t the kind for long goodbyes.
Maybe she didn’t have to reserve judgments after all—Catherine was a brat.
That would make it easier to say goodbye when this security detail came to an end. But it was going to be tough to say goodbye to Lily.
As she walked to her truck, she took one long look back at the house. Lily was sitting in her bedroom window looking out. When she spotted her, the little girl waved.
Yes, saying goodbye would be hard.
As she got into her truck, she sighed and then rolled out toward the ranch. The miles drifted by as she forced herself to think about something other than the little girl. Tonight, she was supposed to have Daisy work with members of the local sheriff’s department, who had graciously offered up their Search and Rescue and training warehouse as well as give assistance in running hides.
Daisy had come so far in just a couple of years; from a crazy little rottweiler puppy, she had turned into a dog that was capable of finding a castaway shoe in a rainstorm from a half mile away. She wasn’t perfect—there would always be off days—but she was better than even Elle could have hoped.
When she made it home to the Widow Maker Ranch, Daisy was waiting for her at her little cabin. Her nubby black tail whipped back and forth violently as Elle walked in. The dog spun in excited circles, prancing, her face as close to a human smile as it could get.
Yes, she loved that dog. So had Lily, until her mother had put a stop to her bringing Daisy onto the property—even when only in her vehicle.
Loading Daisy and the gear up into the truck, she made her way over to the training warehouse. They hadn’t worked there before; mostly she had worked with the K-9 units from the city police department, so this would be a fun, new experience.
Arriving, she found a tall, brooding sheriff’s officer standing beside the bay doors. He was doing something on his phone, and he looked put out that he was standing in the icy near dark of the late winter night. Most people she worked with forgot any apprehensions the moment they saw Daisy. She was beautiful, with her gleaming black coat and buckskin-colored face and paws, and a blaze mark on her chest. And she loved everyone.
The man looked up from his phone, and his eyes flashed bright green in the thin light. He was stocky, and he wore a knit cap. When he gazed at her, he smiled for a split second, but as quickly as the sexy smile came, it disappeared and was replaced with what she assumed was a trademark scowl.
“You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago.” He stuffed his phone away.
She wasn’t late, she was never late, and the accusation made her hackles raise. She wanted to growl back at him and tell him to look at his watch, but she resisted the urge. They were here at the sheriff’s invitation. Clearly this man wasn’t here of his own volition.
“There must have been a miscommunication. Sorry about that.” She was careful not to put the apology on herself or her mistake. If anything, he should be apologizing for the lack of a professional and warm welcome.
He said something under his breath.
It was a good thing he was handsome and she wanted this hour to train with Daisy, or she would have told him to pound sand then and there. She hated not having the upper hand. If he was sexist, too...she would be out of here in no time. Daisy could train somewhere else.
“If you like, I can come back another time.” When someone else wanted to work with her and Daisy.
He sighed, the sound resigned. “We’re both here.”
She flipped her keys in her hand, thinking about how easy it would be to get in her truck and start the engine.
“Look,” she said, her frustration finally threatening to come to a full boil, “if you don’t want to do this, it’s okay. I can promise you that I’m trustworthy and Daisy and I can use the training warehouse without supervision. You can just unlock the door and go. I will lock up when we’re done. No big deal,” she said, giving him the out he appeared to want.
His whole body shifted, like he suddenly must have realized how he was coming off to her. “No, no. As one of the search and rescue coordinators, I’m more than happy to help.” He turned to the door and entered the code. The garage door ground open, exposing the interior of the building.
One side of the warehouse kept a variety of trucks, rafts, snowmobiles and mobile command units marked with the Missoula County Search and Rescue badge. The other half of the warehouse had been set up to look like a makeshift house.
She led Daisy out of the back seat of the truck and clicked her onto her lead. He had his back turned to them and didn’t seem to notice the dog.
It was silly, but Elle was a bit crestfallen. No one ignored Daisy’s beautiful face. She was always the star of the show. How dare he snub her baby dog?
Today really wasn’t having any pity on her ego.
She followed behind him as he walked into the makeshift rooms built around the facility, making the interior of the warehouse look like something out of a movie set.
“We were just using this place for room clearing today,” he said, pointing at a spent flash-bang on the floor in the staged living room. “I was going to clean up but decided to wait until you were done.”
She nodded. “The more scents, the better. I like to make it hard on her.”
He smiled, a real full-toothed smile, and he finally looked down at Daisy. “May I touch her?”
Finally, they were getting somewhere.
“Sure,” she said, looking at the nameplate on his chest. “Sergeant Anders.”
He glanced up at her and looked surprised before connecting the dots with how she would have known his name. “Sorry about being a little short with you,” he said, bending the knee to Daisy and petting her.
The animal leaned into him, her bulletproof vest pressing against his. They made quite the pair.
Daisy’s butt jiggled as she tried to wag her tail. “She likes you.”
At least one of them did. If nothing else, Daisy’s endorsement of the man was something to like him for.
“I’m a huge dog guy—it’s why I offered to stay behind and help you out.”
He had offered?
“Well, I appreciate your helping me.” She felt suddenly embarrassed that she had taken an instant disliking to him. Maybe she really was too fast to judge.
She would need to focus on her self-improvement for a while.
“What do you need me to do?” he asked, motioning around the place.
She reached into her tactical bag and took out a Ziploc. “This bait has a scent on it. I’ll take Daisy outside and make her wait. Then I’m going to need you to take this out of the bag and plant the cloth somewhere in the facility. I don’t want to touch it. She knows what I smell like and can use that.
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