Rescued by the Cowboy (WEST Protection Book 1) Page 3

  Heat climbed into her cheeks at the woman’s outburst, and then Mrs. Wynton ran up and threw her arms around her.

  Enveloped by the scent of all the things she associated with this place, Pippa closed her eyes and embraced her in return. Tears threatened, but she swallowed them down. This was the closest thing she had to hugging her own momma, and the warm welcome filled her with affection.

  Mrs. Wynton pulled away to look at her. She was tall as well, but not as tall as Pippa. A quick study of her face revealed more lines of age but the same health and vitality from leading a life of exercise, fresh air and the family she loved.

  “I’m so shocked to see you. I thought Ross was fooling me.” She threw a look around for her son who did like to prank her in his youth, as Pippa remembered.

  “It’s so good to see you, Mrs. Wynton.”

  “Oh dear, we’re past those sorts of formalities. Your parents enforced the rule that you call me Mrs. Wynton. Call me Ginny. Please.”

  “Ginny.” Her heart bloomed with warmth, but it didn’t thaw the coil of fear she’d traveled here with.

  “Pippa could use something to eat and drink, Momma.” He eyed Pippa. His eyes conveyed a question. You’ll be okay?

  She nodded to both the sustenance and the question.

  Touched even more that he did care for her well-being, she followed Mrs. Wynton—it’d be hard to think of her as Ginny after all these years—into the spacious kitchen.

  “Momma, is Corrine around?”

  “In the barn with her horse. Where else?” She beamed a smile on Pippa and waved for her to sit down.

  Pippa’s knees felt wobbly as she moved to the heavy wood barstool and sat. Ross left the room. She watched him vanish through the doorway. Right before he walked away, he’d glanced at her throat—a pointed reminder to keep quiet about her ordeal?

  Wanting to conceal her bruises from Ginny, she waited until her back was turned and buttoned her shirt up to her throat. She hoped that would hide the worst of the bruise.

  “Coffee or something cold?” Ginny asked.

  “Something cold please.” It would feel good on her throat.

  Ginny puttered to the big stainless steel refrigerator that could hold half a beef and unearthed a pitcher of iced tea. Pippa’s mouth watered. She remembered the famous sweet tea on the Wynton Ranch, made with just the right amount of sugar and a hint of mint.

  “I can fix you eggs and bacon if you’re up for it.”

  “I’m not that hungry, but thank you.”

  When Ginny set a glass in front of her, along with a plate of fresh-baked cookies, Pippa choked back her tears.

  She hadn’t cried once since she received that death threat. Not after she fled from the lab or following her attack. Now she teared up at a plate of cookies.

  Through a blur, she reached for one. “Thank you, Mrs.—Ginny.”

  The woman eyed her. “I see you have something pressing on you, honey, and I’m dying to help. But my son warned me not to ask any questions.”

  Bringing a cookie to her lips, she nodded. Feeling like a child with her tears consoled by cookies, she nibbled the edge, but her appetite had been left in that lab when she found the words I will kill you scrawled on a note.

  She set the cookie on the napkin and lifted her tea instead. “Tell me about the family. I feel so out of touch.”

  Ginny settled in for one of those chats she and Pippa’s mother used to have. Actually, they still did—she knew her family made the trip to Montana every year at the fly hatch for a spot of fishing.

  “Well, you saw Ross. Bossy as ever.” Shooting Pippa a wink, she raised her voice for her son to overhear in the event he was nearby. “As you might know, he started a security company with his friend Silas Shanie and his cousin Mathias Trace. Then he brought his other cousin Landon and his brothers on board, so all four of my boys are out doing dangerous jobs more often than I like to hear about. Good thing they don’t supply me with details.” She stopped to sip her tea—being a mother of this crew was thirsty work. “Corrine is helping on the ranch, but more and more Ross is giving her small jobs with WEST Protection.”

  Like sending the young woman to purchase a wardrobe for Pippa.

  “Oh! You might have heard my youngest son Noah found a wonderful young woman to settle down with. Maya Ray is from right here in Stone Pass. They rent a house on the outskirts of town.”

  “That’s wonderful. How funny that your youngest is the first to settle.” Her mind wandered to Ross. With his rugged good looks, he must have women flocking to him. He was smart too.

  She pushed her glasses up her nose and offered a small smile, the most she could muster.

  “We love having Maya Ray around, and when you meet her, I’m sure you’ll get along very well.”

  “I’m sure…” Her voice sounded as a rasp. Automatically, she lifted a hand and toyed with her collar.

  Ginny followed her movement, and a crease—similar to Ross’s—deepened between her eyes. Pippa braced herself for some questions to follow, but her friend thankfully remained silent.

  After her refreshments, Ginny showed her to the bathroom, where she splashed water on her face and tried to put her hair in order. As she removed the elastic band from her ponytail, her gaze lit on her reflection. Blue streaks crossed her neck. She knew much of the bruising she’d caused herself, when she used that maneuver to flip her attacker. His body weight had hung off her neck—little wonder she was bruised.

  Running her fingers through her hair to pull out the worst of the tangles from her long, exhausting day, she studied her face in the mirror. Her eyes were too wide, conveying her shock. She ducked her head and splashed more water on them.

  The Wyntons must think her crazy to show up here after fifteen years. Yet they’d opened their arms to her.

  She only hoped she could explain before Ginny called Pippa’s mother. The last thing she wanted was her family worrying over her safety. Being here was more than nice—it was exactly what she needed. Since she didn’t have to worry about someone jumping out and trying to kill her, she could focus on devising a plan.

  After she placed her glasses on, she went to find Ginny. Or Ross.

  She found both, seated in the kitchen, speaking quietly. Their gazes landed on her as she entered, but she was looking at Ross when she entered. His eyes traveled over her hair and face, down to the buttoned-up shirt covering her bruising.

  “I’ll send Corrine in to find you when she arrives,” Ginny said to him. Then she started out of the kitchen. As she passed Pippa, she squeezed her arm and continued on without saying a word.

  Pippa met Ross’s gaze. He twitched his head toward the big table and chairs. After they were seated across from each other, her nerves kicked in. His silence and authority didn’t help matters, and she suddenly felt fifteen again.

  “Corrine’s gone into town to find you some clothes and toiletries.”

  “I appreciate you sending her. I’ll pay you back.”

  He cast off her offer with a wave. “We need to talk frankly. I need to know everything, Pippa. Every single detail you can recall, even if it seems unimportant.”

  She gave a slow nod. She started at the top, when she found her mother’s earrings missing.

  “Why weren’t you wearing the earrings?”

  “Sometimes I take them off before an experiment. There’s so much protective gear to wear in order to keep me safe and the experiments uncontaminated.”

  He accepted her response and she continued, moving to the missing photograph. “Give me the name of your friend in the photograph.”

  She did, and he typed it into his phone. She watched his face closely, but he didn’t give away anything about what he was looking at.

  Setting aside his phone, he met her stare. “Tell me about the first threat.”

  Scraping her hair off her face, she whispered the words written on the slip of paper. “I got rid of others like you.” Her stomach twisted, and she focused on the
wood grain of the table as a way to center herself from the dizziness overtaking her.

  Ross didn’t speak, his face an unreadable mask. Several seconds passed before he spoke again.

  He plied her with questions about what happened after she received the note. Did she keep it? Did anyone approach her afterward, or did life go on as normal?

  She responded to everything as thoroughly as possible.

  “Tell me about where you live.”

  “An apartment complex.”

  “Security?”

  “A doorman.”

  He nodded. “Do you know his name?”

  She blinked. “Yes, Eric has the day shift and Michael the night. Why would you need that?”

  “Because I’m going to talk to them.”

  A shiver snaked down her spine at Ross’s tone—soft, a little gritty. Deadly.

  “You can’t suspect either man of this.”

  “Everyone is a suspect until I say they’re not. But I have other reasons for wanting to talk to them. I want to know about the building’s security, and whether or not anybody’s asked about you.”

  Her stomach pitched. She set her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands. “This has gone so far.”

  “We’ll figure it out, Pippa. I’ve never failed yet.”

  She jerked her gaze to his. “I never doubted, Ross. It’s why I called you.”

  His stare slipped over her face. A strange twist of awareness in her stomach replaced the sick dread.

  “Now.” He paused. “Tell me about your work. Is it sensitive at all?”

  “I… Yes, it’s sensitive.”

  He waited to hear more, but she didn’t know how to say she’d made such an enormous breakthrough in the world of gene studies that it would help not only a few people but save the lives for a massive number of the population.

  “Still shy.” Ross’s statement made her jerk. He sat back in his chair to regard her. “Dare I say humble too? I don’t think all scientists possess that trait—they want credit for their discoveries, and here you sit completely silent when I ask about your work.”

  “I don’t want fame. I only want to help people.”

  He tapped a finger on the table. “Tell me about that.”

  “About four months ago I had a big breakthrough. I told you I’m involved with gene editing…and I’ll spare you all the terminology, but I’ll say what I discovered will change the face of medicine.”

  He tapped a blunt fingertip on the table again. “Like cancer?”

  “Cancer treatments, immunological medicines, the treatments of birth defects and even extending human lifespan.”

  He gave her a direct look. “So it’s big.”

  She blew out a ragged breath. She still couldn’t believe it herself. This was one of the top finds of the century. “Yes.”

  “Do you work with others on this project?”

  “I had two assistants. They ran data for me and compiled information.”

  “Give me their names.”

  She did, and again he placed them in his phone.

  “Did you ever feel threatened by either of your assistants, even if it was just a bad feeling?” he asked.

  She racked her brain for such an experience, but nothing came to mind. “No. No, I never felt anything but a normal camaraderie with my assistants.”

  “Who owns the lab? Give me names.”

  This went on and on, until her brain felt like mush. She turned her head to stare at the landscape beyond the double doors. They led to a patio where their families shared so much food and fun. Now everything was coated in a layer of snow, but the beauty of the scenery soothed her soul.

  When she turned her head, she found Ross staring at her. She swallowed hard. God, he was a rugged and beautiful man. All cowboy and strength and determination with enough muscle to cause her stomach to flutter. Add in the dark shadow sprouting on his squared jaw and the promise of a smile—and a glimpse of his Wynton dimple—and suddenly, she was a gawky teen crushing on an older boy who paid her no notice.

  Uneasy with her thoughts, she pushed her glasses up.

  “You’ve given me a lot of information to process, Pippa. I’ll start digging into the backgrounds of each person you named, as well as your company and its employees. What you’ve discovered is something other people will want. Other companies, even other countries.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve provided a motive for the crime and made yourself a target.”

  She pulled up straight in her seat. “I was doing my job,” she said with the heat his remark raised in her.

  “Of course you were. But that doesn’t mean you—” He received a text and cut off to read it. “Boone got called out, and he can’t do the afternoon chores.” He arched a brow at her. “Come with me? I’d like to keep talking to you. But if you’re too tired…”

  “I’m not. Besides, I haven’t helped with ranch chores in a long time.”

  “You can wear one of Corrine’s jackets. If you don’t mind smellin’ like a horse, that is.”

  For the first time since sitting down with him, a smile tickled at the corners of her mouth.

  He outfitted her with a jacket and donned one of his own, the same thick canvas he’d given her outside the airport. For some reason, as she followed him to the barn, she couldn’t stop thinking about slipping her arms around his shoulders and leaning against his strong body just to smell his male spice again.

  “At least you’ve got on sensible boots.”

  She strode through the light snow beside him. “They always recommend shoes that can’t fall off when you fly.”

  The tilt of his smile reflected in her heartrate. “And you adhere to all the rules, don’t you, Pippa?”

  Was he making fun of her? Sure, she was a rule follower—what was wrong with that?

  “I wore these boots because they’re the most comfortable I own. I never understood the FAA’s reason for the recommendation. If you crash, losing a flip-flop’s the least of your concerns.”

  His smile flashed again as they reached the barn. He handed her a shovel. “Remember how to muck out a stall?”

  She chuckled, which sounded throatier than before, as if Ross took over her body whenever he was near. Such as a rise in her pulse and body temperature, and the lowering of her voice into something softer.

  “Do I have to worry about one of your brothers shoving me into the manure pile?” she asked.

  Another grin slanted her way. She curled her toes inside her boots and gripped the shovel handle tighter.

  “If they were around, I’d have them do this job, not you. C’mon.”

  As he led her into the space, she was thrown back in time. Traditions and a love for family and friends mingled with the scents of straw and horses. She stopped in the center aisle between stalls to stare up at the beams of light streaming in through high windows. Aware of Ross stopping next to her, she flushed.

  “I always loved this one horse. Maverick.”

  “Ole Mav? He’s out in the pasture.”

  She blinked. “He’s still alive?”

  “Horses ain’t like dogs. They live longer. I’ll show you.”

  When they stepped out of the barn into the small pasture enclosed by new a black fence, she caught sight of the horse she’d fed carrots to and groomed on many occasions. His chestnut coat still gleamed in the sun as he gracefully bent to pluck hay from the bale.

  “Oh, he’s just as beautiful. He used to let me braid his mane.”

  “He sure is…and I remember.” Ross watched Maverick and another horse keeping him company munching on the hay. A moment passed and he planted the point of his shovel into the snow. “Best get to work. Stalls won’t clean themselves.”

  Chapter Three

  Ross wheeled the barrow full of soiled straw into the allocated area and dumped it. This work was as familiar as breathing, and he could do it blindfolded. Which was why he loved the challenge he got with WEST Protection. />
  However, he could do without this challenge. When he started the company, he never thought he’d be protecting Pippa Hamlin.

  At first, if he was honest, he didn’t totally buy her story of being followed. Then one look at the bruises on her pale skin and he wanted to hunt down the people after her and snap their necks. One by one.

  His reaction didn’t make a lick of sense. Over the course of the year he’d been doing this job, he never felt such intense anger on behalf of his clients. Since the moment he spotted the fear creasing Pippa’s eyes back in that airport, then the purple and blue bruises, he’d told himself that his response was due to her being like a kid sister to him.

  But that got snatched by the late autumn wind each time he looked at her.

  He stepped into the barn again. She worked in Maverick’s stall, her pale brown, thick hair swishing on the shoulders of her borrowed coat.

  “We need a plan.”

  She turned at his announcement.

  “I have a feeling you’re not talking about which stall to clean next.” She moved to the door of the stall and faced him.

  He nodded.

  She drew in a breath. “I can start off the plan. I need to be in Seattle by Sunday.”

  His brows shot up. “To be with your family?”

  “No. I’m speaking at a conference Monday morning. Genomics and Molecular Biology. I’d planned to stay with my parents for a long weekend and then head back to Detroit Tuesday morning. They expect me on Friday, but I think that’s out the window.”

  He scuffed his boot on the floorboards. “This tosses another layer of meat onto the sandwich.”

  Her brows pinched. “Sandwich?”

  “Yeah. My brothers laugh at me for comparing our jobs to sandwiches, but I really do see it that way. The bread’s the danger, the meats and cheeses information that work together or against each other, and finally you sprinkle on lettuce, tomato, onion, pickles and so on to create one big case.”

  “And my going to Seattle is the meat?”

  “That’s right,” he drawled.

  She leaned on her shovel and brushed a wisp of hair off her face. “What kind of meat? Are we talking turkey or ham?”