Rope the Moon (Runaway Ranch, #2)(57)

“You need a hospital?” I look at Charlie, not missing his fingers on Ruby’s wrist, monitoring her heartbeat.

“No,” Ruby says before Charlie can answer. Then, seeing us all stare at her, she draws herself up and glares at Charlie. Her bottom lip sticks out in a stubborn pout. “Cowboy, no. I’m fine.”

“Come on.” Dakota holds out her arm to Ruby. “We’ll give you a ride back to the ranch.”

Charlie and I watch them walk off. Then I lean into him. “I want everyone in this family staying close. You hear me?”

“Things are fucked.” Charlie drags a hand down his dark beard. His eyes flick in the direction of Ruby. “They have been ever since Koty set foot on the ranch.”

I stiffen. “You asking me to turn her out?”

“Fuck you, Davis.” A muscle jerks in his jaw. The punch of his finger in my chest rocks me back on my boots. “I’d never ask that. I’m asking you to find this guy. Fix it.”

I take a step closer to him. Our gazes clash. “I always fix it.” My hand balls into a fist, trying to tamp down the growing shadows. The guilt. “And you goddamn know it.”

His nostrils flare. “Then do it.”

Richter’s loud boom sideswipes the rest of our conversation. “Charlie, a statement.”

“Find him,” I order Richter, swinging his way. “Fast.”

As Richter steps up to Charlie, I walk over to the side of Dead Fred’s Curve and stare down over the rocky side of the canyon. The deep crevasse, the terrifying drop. Nausea wells in my stomach.

Ruby and Charlie—they never would have made it.

I stiffen when a hand slides over my shoulder. “This is my fault,” Dakota says in a low voice. She leans in, her body warm and firm against mine. “It’s him. I know it is.”




Feeling the Arctic chill in the air, I tug on my gloves. My breath puffs white in front of my face as Keena’s sharp whines cut through the February night.

Need to walk. Need to get that fucked up image of Charlie’s truck hanging off the lip of Dead Fred’s Curve out of my mind. The cops don’t know who did it. No witnesses, no sign of the vehicle. I can’t shake the feeling that whoever did this poses a threat to my family. To Dakota.

I want to punch a hole in the side of the lodge. Break stone, break my hand, just to feel something other than the shadows building inside.

That same poisonous combination I carried home with me from the Marines is trying to rise up. Rage. Failure. Helplessness.

I step off the porch, eyeing Ruby and Charlie’s cabin. It’s lit up with light.

Sleep isn’t coming easy for any of us.

The paw on the side of my leg redirects my attention. A pleading whine comes from the dog beside me.

“Listen to me,” I tell Keena, who’s now in a full-on spin. “We’re outside to walk. There’s no biting, there’s no playing. There’s focus. There’s no damn time to roll around. You got me?”

Ears pricked to attention, Keena whines once more.

I look up as the back door slides open and Dakota steps out onto the porch, wrapped in her parka. “Late night stroll?”

“Taking Keena for a walk.”

She lifts her brow. “At midnight?”

“Never miss.”

“Mmm. So, this is the real reason you don’t sleep.” She steps toward me. “Can I come?”

I shake my head, not wanting her outside. “It’s freezing. Go inside, Dakota.”

She lifts a defiant chin, hands on her belly. “Exercise is good for the baby.”

“You don’t listen,” I grumble.

She smiles, knowing she’s won the battle. “Never have.”

Fuck. This woman could play every card in the book and I still couldn’t say no to her.

“Fifteen minutes,” I say with a sigh. I put my trapper hat on her head, my gloves on her hands, and when I’m satisfied that she’s snugly bundled, we step into the yard.

“Hold on to my arm,” I tell her. “I don’t want you slipping.”

She links her arm through mine and my cock jerks like a bobber on a string.

Keena lets out a hearty bark and bolts into the dark.

I sigh, scrubbing a hand down my face. “She makes her own rules.”

Dakota bumps her shoulder into mine. “Sounds like someone I know.”

Far off, a wolf cries. The sound is distinct from a coyote.

“Is that her?” Dakota asks, curiosity staining her voice. “The wolf?”

I stare into the blackness. “She’s close. But she’s smart and knows how to stay away from the traps.”

“Good for her,” Dakota murmurs.

“Yeah. Good for her.”

A growl from the woods has Dakota gasping. My senses snap into high alert, and I clinch my bicep to keep her closer. Check the gun on my hip. Keena’s growl slowly dies off into soft snuffling, telling me there’s no threat.

“The woods scream,” she whispers.

I chuckle. “Listen to the woods. They’re not your enemy,” I say, planting a hand firmly on the small of her back and moving her in the direction of the sound. I point to my right. “They paint a map of where you are. Meadow Mountain and Eden is to the west. The hiking trail near the cabin leads back to the ranch.” I pivot her again, this time to the left. Dakota’s eyes scan the darkness. “The highway is to the East. You hear the traffic now? Far off?”