Page 32 of Recurve Ridge

“That’s not what I asked.”

The corner of his lips twitched. “I’ll bet my cut on our next job that it has something to do with our guest.”

Of course it does.

I knew Miller didn’t approve of Mari’s presence in our home. He hated that she’d etched out a place there, stolen the hearts of men starved for something more than the meager existence we’d carved out of the mountain side. We could have been dwarves to her princess, but Mari wasn’t quite that sweet.

Other chores came before pleasure, either of the homely or carnal variety. If I pushed her out, I’d have more than Miller to deal with. Mari needed the respite from whatever reality had chased her in our direction, not a wheelbarrow load of randy men who were desperate for a sweet smile and soft lips.

And yet, she ran to me.

Into my arms.

I shook my head, shifting my focus to where it needed to be, not on the pretty head of curls inside my house.

Focus, Huntingdon.

“All right. Where is he?”

“Boundary line. Opposite that ugly fucking tower he calls home.”

I nodded. “I know the place.” Turning on my heel, I headed in my nemesis’s direction, already rehearsing what I would say when he asked about her.

Who else would he inquire about? Not the picket line one of my regulars organized at the edge of my property. Gideon Blackthorne’s Mari-shaped drawcard sat in his back pocket. I just needed to wait for him to incriminate himself during the next few minutes.

Other men, like our good friend Blackthorne, might play shadow games. But I ran cold, devoid of emotion at the reminder of the man who drove me from the city I once called home. One ruined veteran and a background of family politics made for a sensational news story on our return from the desert in the wake of too many scarred souls.

Knight & Watchman had flourished between us, right up until George Petersen stepped in. The current mayor of New York City ripped our lives to shreds. Then I realized Gideon had been working for the pompous little ass the entire time. Both our lives weren’t ruined; just mine, and whoever followed me.

Miller scraped out of their little coup, a stroke of pure luck on our side. Maybe he came up as insignificant. Who knew why Petersen made the decisions he did. But that slice of luck favored us, leaving me with one man who could walk through the front doors of Knight & Watchman without being arrested.

The rest of us took more… covert entrances.

I might have gotten my business back when Blackthorne walked away, but the man who used to be my partner and fellow officer knew too many of my tricks. Good thing I had a team for that. Gideon Blackthorne had showed enough colors during the past eight years to leave me on the edge of extreme discomfort at having him too close.

After encountering Mari on my doorstep, I knew exactly where in the black Gideon stood.

On the other side of the fucking line.

Miller halted my progress. “Are you going alone?”

“I can find my way a half mile and back.” My words came out short. “I’ll be fine,” I offered in a softer tone.

Miller’s snort told me that though I might look like I made the journey alone, he would have my back from some distant point.

Before I could take another step forward, cold metal pressed into my palm.

I looked down at the matte black handgun he offered, but I didn’t take it. “No.”

“You go out there alone, he will kill you.”

Blackthorne could; he even might, but I didn’t think so. Not today. The man never made an appearance on my lands unless he deemed it necessary. Assuming I read the situation correctly, by taking Mari into my family, I had forced his hand.

Now I wanted to see how he played it out to the new threat I presented.

She contained all his scarred evidence, and I’d bet everything that he wanted her back. His previous experience was a kindness compared to the sort of torture Blackthorne would use as his personal trademark if I handed her over.

That wasn’t happening on my watch.

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