17

Jay considered this man who’d come from out of nowhere to act as her protector. He said that he’d come at her father’s behest, but had not related how he’d ended up at the Logan ranch so, in keeping with her earlier analogy, she fancied that a tornado had plucked him from wherever it was he hailed from and dropped him at the ranch just in time, like the house that flattened the Wicked Witch. Pity she didn’t have a pair of ruby slippers whose heels she could click and take them all safely home.

He was English, but didn’t talk with any definite regional inflection she could make out. It was more a cosmopolitan accent, or one that had been shaped through some kind of institutionalisation: the military she assumed, from the skills he’d exhibited. Occasionally he slipped into a US vernacular that sounded a little odd to her ear, and she wondered how long he’d been living here in the States. He stood under six feet, but only by a shade, and had the tight build of an athlete, broad-shouldered and slim-hipped; however there was nothing that would make him stand out in a crowd. Not until you looked into his features and noted a stoic calm that could be mistaken for an uncaring attitude. His outer shell was a lie, she knew. If he only cared for his own well-being, he’d have shot Samuel when he had the opportunity, and the rest be damned. He hadn’t, he’d forfeited his own safety for hers and for her friends’, and chosen to risk everything in hand-to-hand combat with the brutish man. That was where he also stood out; she’d never seen anything like the way he’d gone at Samuel outside the frame of an action movie, or believed that after the beating he’d endured anyone could still operate without complaint. Jeez, if Samuel had been punching her as hard as that, she’d have been hospitalised, or dead. Yet Joe Hunter was up and jogging, moving with a grace she’d never seen in any man. When she was at Penn State she’d been surrounded by football players and boys from the wrestling team, tough, fit and aggressive guys, but she doubted any of them could have stood for more than a few seconds against Hunter. There was something about him, like a smouldering fuse you couldn’t detect until you looked deeply into his eyes. They had the same intensity she’d once seen in a caged wolf, a beast tamed only so far that could return to its intrinsic savage state at the flip of a coin. She thought she should fear such a man, yet she didn’t. She was only thankful that he was on her side.

She wished to know more about him, though this was neither the time nor the place. All that was important was that he was there and prepared to do everything to see her to safety, coupled with his promise that he’d return for Nicole. She knew he could be trusted to do everything possible to save her best friend. His was a selfless attitude: she didn’t doubt that her father had paid handsomely for his services, but she suspected that Joe Hunter wasn’t motivated by money. His reward was his opportunity to help others. She wondered what would feed such altruism in a man, or if indeed she was even on the right track. Perhaps his need to help others was his way of atonement, making up for some perceived sin from his past. Or maybe she was totally off base and he was simply someone who, as she often joked about herself, liked to live on the wild side. Perhaps he required the adrenalin rush guaranteed during a conflict with the Logans and it was his way of unleashing his ferocious side without having to turn it on to those closest to him.

That was a sobering thought. She couldn’t picture him turning on his loved ones, quite the opposite in fact; he was the type who’d die for them first. She imagined that he was loyal to a fault. His friends would be very important to him, the reason he’d asked that she telephone his friend, Jared Rington, at her first opportunity. Something about that name sounded familiar, his nickname more so, and she was certain she’d heard her father mention it in passing. Perhaps her dad knew these men from the days when he was in the army. She didn’t know much about her dad’s military past, only that he’d served his term as a chef to the guys who did all the fighting. She wondered now if that tale was true, because you didn’t get to know the likes of Joe Hunter dishing up chicken and fries.

Joe was running a few yards ahead of her, his attention on the rocks around them, but regularly straying back to ensure that she was keeping up. On occasion he’d held out a hand to help her over the most rugged obstacle, but had quickly released her again, not because the gesture was too familiar but because he was trained not to compromise his weapons. What must it be like being in a constant state of readiness like that? Jay believed that she would burn out within days and couldn’t fathom how Joe had attained the age he had. Not that he was old, but he had to be in his late thirties, though his stamina belied that somewhat.

Hunter had come to a halt, and was staring out from between two large rocks. Their run had brought them towards a massive structure that reminded her of a petrified mushroom, with a wide umbrella-shaped overhang. Hunter seemed to be listening, his head scanning back and forth like a radar dish. He nodded silently to himself, then beckoned her forward.

‘That’s the trail down there, the one they’d have to use with their truck. We can’t afford to be out in the open so we’re going to continue up this way. Once we’re beyond the trailhead it’s only a short run to my car.’ He paused. ‘You still OK? You can make it?’

‘I don’t need carrying any more if that’s what you’re asking?’

A smile turned up the corner of his mouth, the first she’d seen from him, and it softened his features in a way that she liked. He had eyes the colour of the desert sky, but they were changeable, sometimes shifting through light brown and green, though that could have been down to reflections.

‘Come, then.’

‘Hold on,’ Jay said, passing him the container of water. ‘Have another drink while I sort myself out.’

Her shoes were full of sand and larger pebbles, making walking painful. She removed each in turn, and shook them out. Hunter took a small pull on the water, but handed it back. ‘You’ll need that before you’re done. I’ll get plenty later at the watering hole.’

That was a sign of confidence. Or maybe he was only trying to allay her fears that he might fail. She glanced down at the revolver in his hand, and knew he’d deal with the Logans differently next time. He wouldn’t be as restrained when he didn’t have her well-being to worry about. She only hoped that her friends would be more important to him than his personal agenda.

‘When my dad hired you, he did ask that you find Nicole as well?’

‘I’m here for all of you,’ he said. ‘Nicole, Ellie and you.’

‘You mentioned that other woman earlier, Helena Blackstock.’

Hunter’s head dipped, and for the first time since his fight with Samuel Logan he looked weary. ‘I’m afraid I might be too late to help her.’

In the next instant Hunter straightened, and the wolf was back in his gaze. Jay had the feeling that he spared her his next words because of her earlier inability to shoot Samuel in cold blood. Nonetheless she could guess what he was thinking: he was too late to save Helena, but he would avenge her.

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