The Omega Team: Spurs (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read online

  Still, he settled into an empty chair next to Isbet, and the dude—his brother could control his speech a bit but not his thoughts—to his left passed him the platter of sandwiches.

  He placed a sandwich on his plate. Grilled slices of beef from their own stock melded with onions, bits of sautéed garlic and peppers and jack cheese. Sarge had his own recipes for everything, mixed with ideas he got from endlessly watching the Food Network in his free time. Ryder thought he tasted a little bourbon in here.

  Filling his glass from the unsweetened tea pitcher, he took a deep drink and lifted the sandwich. Beside him, Isbet worked her way through her first cheesesteak and a mound of crispy homemade potato chips and reached for another sandwich. Where did she put all the food?

  He took a bite and then another, chewing, swallowing, and washing it down with tea. He’d never heal if he didn’t feed his body—although such heavy food might not be what the docs had in mind. And the guests raved around him. When Sarge came out of the kitchen with a half dozen pies on a tray, spontaneous applause broke out.

  At least Ryder had made it through half of his sandwich. Accepting the warm piece of Sarge’s famous cinnamon apple pie topped with a melting scoop of ice cream flecked with vanilla bean and scented with another hint of bourbon, he dug in with determination.

  Isbet hummed over her dessert. “I may never leave.”

  He scooped up another bite, the soft, sliced apples going down easier than most food did. “Don’t they feed you at home?”

  “I live alone. There’s no they.”

  So no husband or live-in lover. If he’d been on the prowl, he’d have considered it good news.

  She dipped her spoon into the ice cream, laid it on her tongue upside down, savored, and swallowed. “I eat out mostly. Fast food.”

  “You got that body on chicken nuggets?” Impossible. Her trim curves did not speak of junk food.

  “No, I make better choices when I can. But, with my working hours, I don’t often have time to cook.” She scraped the last of the apple juices off her plate and pushed it away. “I want more, but I’d probably explode.”

  He set his fork down; at least he’d made a dent. “Make a mess in here and Sarge will have your head.”

  “Can’t have that.” She laughed, a warm, musical sound that had every male head at the table turning toward her. What the hell. “Seriously, I’ve eaten better meals here in the past couple of weeks than I’ve had in years.”

  Even their mother wasn’t a better cook, although she made more plain ranch food, and used less booze in it.

  One of the younger cowboys rose and began to clear the dishes into a plastic tub. How his brother had gotten them to take turns busing, he’d never know. The dudes and the rest of the hands scattered, off to whatever activities they had planned for the afternoon, but he and Isbet still sat in companionable silence.

  Finally, she stood. “I guess I’d better head out and try to walk this lunch off.”

  He shoved his chair back so fast it rocked on its legs, and she arched a brow at him. “I’ll come with you.” Dang, be more eager why don’t you? “That is, if you don’t mind. I walk pretty slowly these days.”

  “Sure, let’s go. Maybe you can give me the grand tour.”

  He grabbed a couple of water bottles from the sideboard and held the door open for her.

  She led the way down the porch steps. “Football injury?”

  Chapter Two

  Isbet Gutierrez knew more about Ryder Carmichael than anyone without her former government position could possibly hope to find out. She would bet she knew more about his team’s position at the moment than he did. If his group had high clearance, hers was invisible. She’d been trying to step completely away from her past career and into her new one as a private eye, doing the kind of work the Omega Team had hired her to do, with little success. Her former handler, Gordon, wouldn’t let go.

  She waited to see what Ryder would say about his limp. She also had trod and ridden, both on horseback and ATV, over most of the ranch in her two weeks there, so she was glad when he set off away from the buildings despite her glib request for a “grand tour.” What made her say such silly things around this man?

  “Not exactly. Military, but I can’t say more.” He strode along beside her, hardly limping.

  “That’s okay. Thank you for your service.” It came automatically but was always sincere. “I hope you don’t have any permanent damage. Are you out? Permanently?”

  He stumbled over a rock, and she fought the urge to grab his arm and steady him. A proud man wouldn’t welcome being fussed over by anyone. “Dammit!” He recovered and walked on, his gait a little less smooth. “I’m waiting to hear.”

  The dusty path rose slowly toward the foothills, dark-green pine trees on either side perfuming the air. She drew a deep breath. “I hope you get whichever outcome you want.”

  He paused and stared at her. “Thank you. My brother wants me home, my old friends all say I should just move on, and my team is rooting for me to get back soon, but nobody has said it to me just like that.”

  She stopped next to him. “Well, it isn’t your decision, I know, but I’m sure you have an opinion of where you’d like your life to go from this point.”

  “I thought I did.” His earnest expression, the softer set to his mouth than she’d seen yet, twanged at her heart. Leaving her previous career had always bothered her, enough so when Gordon came to her, she’d accepted his requests for her to work part-time undercover, but she’d seen Ryder as someone more determined.

  So she asked the question she’d asked herself when she’d made the decision to change fields. “If the doctors call it done, what will you do with the rest of your life? Help run the ranch?”

  He started forward again, the limp more pronounced as the slope steepened, and she hop-stepped to keep up. “Isn’t that the question? I never thought of myself as a rancher, although I worked with my dad growing up until I enlisted. But I always figured I was in for the career then I’d figure out something in my forties or fifties when I retired.” Had he pictured himself with a family to spend time with in his retirement? Or was he like her? A loner.

  They walked along, only the crunch of their footsteps over the pine needles and the occasional snap of a twig and twittering of birds filling the silence.

  Finally, he stopped where a small trail disappeared off to the left. “Want to see something?”

  “Sure.” The path was not wide enough for two, so she waved. “Lead on, soldier.”

  Ryder took a step and froze. “Just call me Ryder. I don’t think soldier will apply anymore.” He continued on, and she followed. Men like him had their whole psyche tied up in their service. Thank God they did, or the country would be defenseless They took the hard jobs, the scary jobs, and the ones from which they didn’t always come home. Always put others first. While she enjoyed the rear view of his wranglers cupping one fine backside, she considered how different he was from the men her mother hooked up with in her childhood.

  One after another, a swinging door of stepfathers and sort-of stepfathers. Mom always thought she’d find the right one, someone to support them financially and emotionally, but she never did. If Isbet learned one thing, it was a girl had to be able to take care of herself and not expect some guy to fill the holes in her life.

  “So, where are we going?” The trail dipped down then rose again, the trees thinning out around them. “Is it okay for you to do all this hiking with your injury?”

  “Fine,” he bit out. “Don’t worry about me. Do you need to turn back?”

  “Not me,” she called, taking a few fast steps to catch up. “Except my legs are a lot shorter than yours, so if you leave me behind, I’ll get there eventually.”

  He slowed. “I’m sorry. I spend so much time trying to prove to myself I’m okay that sometimes I forget to be considerate of those around me. My mother didn’t raise me to act like that.” The path disappeared, and he scooted around a
tree and headed off cross-country then stopped again. “God, I’m an ass.”

  “No,” she said, “you’re not. But be careful you don’t reinjure yourself in the process of proving you’re fine. Don’t ruin any chance you have of living life the way you want to, whatever it may be.”

  “You have a gift for making me feel better.” He held out his hand, and, without thinking, she took it. It was warm and hard, swallowing her much smaller one up, and, instead of feeling overwhelmed like she had by big men in the past, something inside her purred. Ugh. But nothing he did was more than friendly, and she was probably making too much of it. So she ambled along at his side over the rough slope. “We’re going just up there.” He pointed with their linked hands to a pile of boulders perched on the side of the mountain. “It’s a little steep but not far now.”

  Steep didn’t half say it. A few yards later, she let go of him to scramble on all fours up the loose scree below their goal, delighted to accept his hand back to clamber onto the heap of boulders. Settling onto the biggest one, jutting out into open air, she gasped.

  “I hope you don’t have a thing about heights,” he said, dropping next to her, one leg extended straight out. “I should have asked.

  “No…not at all.” She’d never have been accepted into her training group if she had a “thing” about anything. “This is breathtaking.” The mountains rolled out above and below them on the other side of the narrow valley they perched over.

  “It is a couple of thousand feet down.” He grinned. “Last time I coaxed a girl up here, back in high school, she took one look and ran all the way back down the trail.”

  “Not this girl.” She took in the panorama of dark, brooding pines, aspens with their light-green quivering leaves catching the sunlight, and bare-rock formations. “I love climbing, but this is my first time in the Sierras. You’re so lucky to have grown up here.”

  “So I remember from time to time.” He rubbed at the extended leg, and she frowned. Really, their climb was not one someone with an injury should have attempted.

  Lips parted to ask if he was okay, she snapped them closed. No fussing. She wouldn’t want it and neither would he. Old soldiers’ code—even if she wasn’t a soldier, exactly.

  Casting a glance at her, he smiled. “Thanks for coming up here. It reminds me of the good things in life. Nature and the blue sky and the breeze.” He lowered his voice, and she had to lean in to hear over the wind. “And the company of a beautiful woman.”

  Heat flushed her cheeks, and her body went on alert. He looked good, he smelled good, and she was ridiculously glad he called her beautiful. Could almost believe the words when accompanied by the open admiration in his eyes. His mouth hovered inches from hers, and she licked her lips, dry in the low humidity. Her lids fluttered as he closed the distance and kissed her, tentative, at first, as if waiting to see if she’d object, but when she opened her mouth, he took advantage and deepened the kiss. His tongue lapped at her teeth and passed inside to twine with hers.

  Fear of heights…no, the tremors starting in her core were related to a much more insidious terror. Not only her body but also her heart awakened when his arms closed around her. He smelled like the mountains, the pines, and the clear water and the fresh air. His big, muscular frame made her feel small and protected. Safe.

  Heart thudding, she jerked free and gave a shaky laugh. “We’d better be careful or we’ll roll off into the valley.” Like falling was her concern.

  He eyed her, and she wondered how much he bought of her explanation, but he didn’t ask. Instead, he did something much worse and pressed his advantage. “Maybe we can take this up again somewhere with a shorter drop in case we lose control.”

  The fall waiting for her had little to do with the altitude of the boulders and much more to do with the crack in the walls she’d erected around her heart. So she changed the subject. “How much of what I’m looking at is part of the ranch?” She opened her water bottle and took a deep drink.

  Thank heavens he went along with it. “Everything you see to the left, the foothill area, all the pastureland, that’s our property. The little dots are the stock and that…. Shit!” He was on his feet with only a wince to show he’d slammed his weight on his wounded leg. “We have to go.”

  She scanned the area he’d pointed out, trying to determine what got him going then, following the sound of an engine, leaped up and followed him, sliding on her butt down the slope in her hurry to keep up. Somehow, despite his injury, he took the slippery pebbles without losing his footing.

  Ryder paused at the bottom of the slope, but Isbet hollered, “Go ahead, I’ll catch up,” and he took her up on it. He’d already overdone it, and his leg told him so as he limp-ran along the path. True to her word and due to his damaged muscle, she caught up before he’d gone fifty yards. Isbet grabbed his hand, and they loped down a half-ass path toward the big pasture where a large part of their herd, cows and calves, grazed.

  He couldn’t believe what was going on in broad daylight. A small plane flew over their heads, gaining altitude as it headed south. At the edge of the pasture, he stopped, bent over, and breathed heavy, patting his pockets. “Dammit, I don’t have a radio on me.”

  She held up her cellphone. “No bars.”

  “No,” he gasped, the pain shooting up from his thigh a really bad sign. “Never are any bars up in here. That’s why the hands all carry radios, and so do I, when I have a brain.”

  Flattened grass showed where the plane had landed and taken off. The cattle all clustered at the other end of the field, and he limped on down to check on them while Isbet got down on hands and knees and patted the grass, finally standing up coming to his side. “Look at this.”

  She held a small metal cylinder painted fluorescent yellow, and his leg throbbed harder. He took it from her, horror shooting up his spine. “Oh no. Don’t touch it.”

  “What?” she asked. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “And I hope you never do again. It’s a new type of weapon. ” He swallowed hard and pulled a kerchief out of his pocket to wrap it in. “It’s what almost cost me my leg.” And if it had made its way to the States, he needed to tell his commanding officer. If the cartel they’d battled in South America—the only people he knew for sure had this lovely little item—had begun to act in the US, the carnage possible terrified him. “We need to get back to the ranch house. I have some calls to make.”

  Chapter Three

  Isbet stuck by Ryder’s side, trotting down the open hillside at first then fast walking, then having to slow her pace. She rather missed being behind him for both the view of his amazing backside and the knowledge he could move quickly. But the day had taken a toll on him, and his short, panting breaths and pale cheeks under his tan indicated at least exhaustion and perhaps something more. How bad was his wound, anyway? The sun slanted down on them at an angle, warm, but not hot enough to account for the droplets of sweat rolling down his face and darkening his shirt. While she tried to decide whether to take action, they left the open pastures behind and rejoined the pine tree-lined path a little above where they’d left it earlier that afternoon.

  Glancing down, she saw a stain darkening the front of his jeans. Blood? Dammit. “Ryder, I can find my way to the house. Why don’t you sit against one of these big trees, and I’ll go get your brother and an ATV. I’m sure the trail is wide enough for it and…and I think you’re bleeding a little.” Or maybe not a little.

  He followed her gaze and cursed softly. “Perfect. No, I can’t stop. It’s not too bad, and I have to get down there and tell Andrew what we saw.”

  She gripped his arm, and he halted. Even his wrist was clammy. “Sit. Down.” When he no longer protested, and allowed her to ease him onto the pine needle-covered ground, her fears grew. Leaving him there, unarmed, where animals could come upon him, or maybe someone who had gotten off the plane and still roamed their lands couldn’t be a good idea. Luckily, her invisible agency was even more conc
erned with being prepared than the Boy Scouts and trained their operatives accordingly. She reached into her boot and pulled out a tiny pistol and big, sheathed knife. “Take these.”

  He stared at her. “Do you always travel ready to repel invaders?”

  Her lips curved in a smile few who opposed her lived to tell about. “Yeah, I guess I do. My mama told me boys can be pushy.”

  “Whew. I’m glad I didn’t try for more than a kiss without asking permission.” Easing his back against the tree, he groaned and pressed a hand to his leg. “But I’m not buying it. What did you say you do?”

  The suspicion in his eyes sent a pang straight into her chest. She couldn’t tell the truth. I’m a private eye who has been snooping into your family. Oh, and a part-time contractor who helps eliminate certain problem people who endanger the safety of others. On behalf of our government.

  Yeah, way to end their romantic afternoon. He’d react badly to one or the other. Maybe one day she could tell him how she helped to reunite him with his cousin—was he there by now? Please let him be. But her service record, if one existed, would not make her a dream date. Shoving the disappointment into a small part of her heart she’d never quite managed to close off, she gave him the warmest smile she could. “I didn’t, but, right now, I’m just glad I had these. You’re military, right? You know how to use them?”

  He nodded. “Yes, and I am not keeping both. Unless you have a grenade launcher in your bra?”

  She patted her chest. “No. Not today.” She considered the possibilities. Bear, mountain lion, whatever other animals these mountains held, and maybe a bad guy or two. “Okay, keep the gun. And here.” She fished ammo out of her other boot. “I hope you don’t need it. I think the knife is a better choice for me because I’m on the move. Just don’t bleed out, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can, and I’ll move a lot faster on my own.”