Breaking Free: A Colorado High Country Crossover Novel, Pamela Clare [i can read book club .TXT] 📗

and then we can saddle up some horses and go riding. I make wicked buttermilk pancakes.”

Jason was about to turn Jack down, but Winona’s face lit up like it was Christmas.

“I would love that. Thank you, Jack. I’ve heard about your barbeques.”

“Well, of course, you have.” Jack chuckled.

It was on the tip of Jason’s tongue to decline. The Wests were good people, but they were strangers. Jason could drive up separately, let Winona come in her vehicle, and then leave at the end of the day.

But he’d be damned if the Cimarron wasn’t one of the most beautiful places he’d ever seen. And it had been ages since he’d sat in a saddle.

Against his better judgment, Jason accepted. “McBride told me not to turn down one of your grilled steaks if you offered, so I won’t.”

“Well, then, it’s settled.” Jack grinned. “We’ll get the cabin ready.”

Almost immediately, Jason regretted his decision.

You’re not here for horseback riding or scenery. You’re here for Winona.

Something about her tugged at him, made him want to be near her. Yes, she was attractive, but it was more than that. There was something about her—her way with animals, her unguarded smile, her sincerity, her openness, her willingness to help others. She was everything Elena was not.

You don’t really know her.

No, he didn’t. He’d been with Elena for four years. He’d thought he knew everything about her, but he’d been wrong.

He was probably wrong about Winona, too.

Back at the house, Jack thanked them and handed Winona a paper bag with a large container of leftover chili and cornbread wrapped in aluminum foil.

“Thanks for your help today,” Jack said. “We look forward to treating you to some Cimarron hospitality tomorrow.”

Winona waited until they were back in Jason’s truck and on the highway to say it. “I told you the Wests were good people.”

“Jack certainly makes a mean chili.” Jason glanced over at her, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. “Can I ask what happened to Nate?”

“He was burned in an IED explosion while serving with the Marines in Afghanistan. No one expected him to survive.” That’s all Winona knew. She hadn’t lived here then. “I can’t imagine how painful that must have been.”

Jason winced. “He must be one tough guy.”

Winona’s mind went to Eric Hawke and what he’d endured since being burned in the fire just two months ago. “Scarlet Springs has more than its share of heroes.”

They drove for a time in silence, Winona mulling over their day, her head filling with questions. She spoke aloud without realizing it. “How much does a steer weigh—a thousand pounds?”

“Something like that.”

She did some quick math. “Three steers in six weeks with maybe five hundred pounds of edible meat per animal would be fifteen hundred pounds of beef. That’s a lot of burgers.”

“Maybe this guy is filling up a freezer or selling it on the side.”

She supposed that made sense. “Why poach steers? Why not go after wild game?”

“I can think of a couple of reasons. Wild game is unreliable. You can hunt all day and go home with nothing.”

She could understand that. “The steers are captive, fenced in.”

Jason nodded. “Not only that, but they don’t run. They’re domesticated. Shooting a steer in a pasture takes no skill at all. It would be easier than shooting a sitting duck.”

“Do you hunt?”

“My grandfather used to take me hunting for feral hogs and javelinas. That’s how I learned to shoot.”

“And track.”

He nodded. “If you want a successful hunt, you have to know what the animal wants, where it’s going, what it needs. You have to anticipate its movements, know the landscape, and learn to be patient. That’s as true for people as it is javelinas.”

It struck Winona that Jason had probably spent most of his life on the hunt. “I’m sure people are the more dangerous prey.”

“For sure.” He shrugged his right shoulder. “I caught a round in the shoulder a couple of summers ago. I have friends, fellow Wolves, who’ve been shot—and killed.”

“I’m sorry.” Winona hurt for him.

“It goes with the job—but thanks.”

“I can’t imagine doing what you do and dealing with that kind of danger every day. A criminal held me at gunpoint once, and I still haven’t gotten over it.”

John Charles Ready had done more than that. No, he hadn’t raped her, but he’d talked about it, saying filthy, racist things to her. Then he’d tried to kill her. If not for Lexi, he would have succeeded.

Jason reached over, took her hand, his touch comforting. “I’m sorry, Win. I hope they caught him.”

“He’s dead.” She shivered. “That’s when we met Zach. Chaska helped track him. I’m not sure why I told you that. I don’t usually talk about it.”

“We were talking about bad guys doing bad things.” He released her hand. “I can see why it came up.”

She tried to let it go, to shift the conversation back to safer paths.

“We’ll need to leave an hour earlier tomorrow. You can stay at my place if you want.” The moment her words were out, she worried he might get the wrong impression. “I’ve got a spare room. You can get an extra hour of sleep. But if you think that would make your fiancée uncomfortable, I understand.”

“My fiancée?” A dark eyebrow arched. “Who told you I had a fiancée—or is that your way of asking whether I’m attached?”

Heat rushed to Winona’s face. “Kat said you’re engaged. I—”

“Oh. Kat doesn’t know. That relationship ended a while back.”

This revelation took a moment to sink in.

He’s single.

Her cheeks burned hotter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t apologize.” He seemed to find her blunder amusing, the hint of a smile on his lips. “You could only believe what Kat told you.”

There was a moment of awkward silence—or at least it felt awkward to Winona. It had been one thing to feel attracted to him when she’d believed he was already in a relationship. It was something altogether different to know that he was available.

Just because he’s available doesn’t mean he’s available to you.

“Thanks