“South’s going to call your brothers to pick him up while we get the fuck out of here.” I glanced at him, who nodded.

“We need the police!” she repeated.

“Princess, I didn’t get fired from the FBI. I’m back in Montana undercover. None of that matters.”

She stared at me wide eyed. “Undercover? None of that matters?” she practically screeched.

“You’re my woman, that’s what matters. I sure as shit am going to protect you.”

I wouldn’t shame her kink in front of her brother by reminding her who was in charge. Me being in control might get her off, but it also kept her safe.

“Say goodbye to your brother, grab a rifle, get your perfect ass out to my garage and climb in my truck.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“If I have to toss you over my shoulder, I will.”

South laughed.

North whipped her head around to get help from her brother. “You can’t expect me to go off with him!”

“If he doesn’t carry you to his truck, I will. I love you, North. Go with your man.”

North sputtered, turned a pretty shade of pink, then did what she was told. Thankfully, she didn’t shoot me with the gun before we sped off into the hills, Eddie and Boozer in the back seat.

12

NORTH

I didn’t say a word as Jed drove us deep into the mountains. We skirted Wainright land most of the way, but then turned south. I’d never been in this area before and since we hadn’t passed another car in ten minutes, it seemed not many did. But Jed knew where he was going, taking lefts and rights so I wasn’t sure if I could drive my way back out.

The rain had let up and only drips from overhanging pines splashed on the windshield. Jed slowed the truck and turned down a single lane road, the entry narrow and between two lodgepole pines. We meandered through the forest, a tire catching a deep rut here and there, before we drove into a clearing. There, settled in a field of Montana wildflowers was a small cabin. The walls were log. On the front side, two windows flanked the front door. I pegged it as one room with a porch that went around three sides. It was rustic, but well kept. It was the view though, that made this place.

Where the main house of the Wainright Ranch had been built for sweeping views in all directions, the cabin felt secluded. The field was perhaps two acres and when I was out of the truck, I heard water running. A creek cut across the side and into the woods. With the clouds breaking and the sun coming out, it was beautiful. Quiet. Serene.

“What is this place?” I asked.