Scout'n'Cole

She arched against him, crying out as an orgasm claimed her. He rode her, refusing to let the swell of sensation abate, stretching out the pleasure until her cry was but a long wordless scream of pleasure. She writhed against him, wanting it to go on and on.

Then the alarm rang.

Scout cursed at the offending sound that jolted her from the dream and checked the time on the clock. Five a.m. Quickly silencing the noise, she sat and swung her legs over the side of the bed, shoving thoughts of the dream aside.

Today she’d step into the ring, so to speak, to defend the family honor. For the past five years, the US Geological Survey-Fort Collins Science Center on the Mountain Lion Ecology, had sponsored a hunt. They invited the top hunters and trackers in the world to team up with rangers and specialists with the Center to tag mountain lions for the ongoing study. It was a no-kill competition, yet a fierce one.

This was the first year she would be the only member of her family in the competition, and she fully intended to win. Even if it meant physically dragging whoever she was teamed with the entire way.

That was the real challenge for the hunters and trackers. The specialists from the Center were trained in animal biology, behavior, and group dynamics, but were not necessarily skilled outdoorsmen. The rangers were normally more skilled in surviving the wilderness, but generally not that knowledgeable about the species itself.

Scout had never participated in the competition. Even though she’d signed up last year, she had to drop out. Her reputation may have been as one of the best trackers in the country, but she also specialized in tracking big cats. There were not a lot of trackers who wanted to hunt the big cats. Not everyone had the patience for it. And not everyone had been trained by Jededia Windrider, the legendary tracker and backcountry survival expert.

Scout had not only been trained by Jededia, but she was also his granddaughter, raised by him after her parents were killed in an auto accident when she was five days old. She only knew her parents from old photos and barely remembered their faces from those faded images, but Jed’s face would be etched into her mind forever. He had been father and mother to her, as well as teacher and friend.

His death last year had left a hole in her heart that nothing would ever fill. His passing left her alone. No family and few friends. Scout felt like something of an anomaly—comfortable in the wild, and a fish out of water in mainstream society.

Not that it bothered her. At least not often. There were times when loneliness crept up on her, but when it did, she accepted that as long as she lived the life she had chosen, loneliness would be a factor. Maintaining a relationship when you were gone most of the time was impossible. She knew. She’d tried. And she’d failed. And resolved not to make that mistake again.

Since the end of her short-lived marriage, she’d focused on work. Her first job was with the IUCN. Six months later, thanks to her contributions to a study on the Mountain Lion Ecology in Rocky Mountain National Park and Northern Colorado, she was approached by CAT, the Cat Action Treasury, the IUCN Species Survival Commission’s specialist group tasked with producing action plans representing species-specific knowledge.

Now Scout was considered one of the foremost authorities on the cat family, with a specialty in the Puma concolor, most commonly referred to as the cougar or mountain lion. She was happy to have earned a good reputation but could have cared less about the political and bureaucratic aspects. She left that to the people who were adept at such matters and focused her energy and attention in the area she was best suited. Namely the wild. It made her happy being out in the wild. It didn’t matter if she was tracking or just taking a solitary hike. When she was outside, away from people, she could breathe.

This morning she contemplated the event before her. Last year she’d been scheduled to participate, as had Jed. It was to be their first time competing against one another. Scout was hesitant, but he had insisted. He was growing old, he’d told her, and needed to know that she’d learned all he’d tried to teach her. If she had, then her youth should give her the edge to beat him.

His death a week before the competition had knocked her for a loop. The fact that he was murdered had filled her with rage and a need for revenge. She’d spent six months trying to solve the mystery of who had killed him. Neither she nor the state law enforcement had been able to find the guilty party. This told Scout that whoever it was, he was a skilled hunter. Sneaking up on Jed would have taken a great deal of skill—the kind of skill only people who entered the competition possessed. She intended to pay close attention to all the participants before and after the hunt.

And she intended to win. She’d prove to Jed that she hadn’t let him down. That she’d learned what he’d taught. That he could be proud of her.

Within the hour, she was navigating the twisting roads, watching a shroud of fog that crept in fingers across the blacktop. It was still a few hours before dawn, and the temperature was hovering right at fifty degrees. A good day for a hunt.

Cole wandered through the assembly, catching bits and pieces of conversation. It was a diverse group, and already a segregated one. The hunters and trackers were off to one side, talking among themselves, paying no attention to the others. The people from the Center were clustered around the breakfast table and the rangers signed up for the hunt were gathered together on one side of the room, discussing the merits of the hunters and whom they hoped to be teamed up with.

The most common topic of conversation seemed to center around Windrider.

He was curious. Jedediah Windrider was a legend, a master tracker who could track anything. Cole had even heard stories about him tracking ants across bare rock like the old Apache Scouts were supposed to have been able to do. Cole hadn’t realized the old man had a family. But then, not much was known about Windrider. He showed up when called and then vanished back to wherever he came from, as mysterious and elusive as the animals he tracked.

But Jed was murdered a year or so ago. So, it had to be Jed’s son the men were discussing.

Cole hoped he got teamed up with Windrider. If the man was half as good as his father, they should be able to win the competition. And Cole was a man who played to win. Just like his brothers.

That thought brought a smile to Cole’s handsome face, softening the hard lines and making his hazel eyes crinkle at the corners. He’d have a story to tell his twin brother Clay the next time they spoke.

Which reminded Cole that he hadn’t talked with Clay in nearly a month. The last time they spoke, Clay and his wife Rusty were gearing up for a national rodeo. Unlike Cole and Clay’s father, Rusty had encouraged Clay to pursue his career as a pro bull rider. This year Clay was riding in the nationals and Rusty swore he was going to win.

Cole hoped she was right. He’d only known Rusty for a little over a year and had seen her only four times, but he liked her. She was spunky, tough, bull-headed, funny, and sexy as hell. A perfect match for his brother.

Seemed to Cole that all the Russell men except him and the youngest brother Caleb had gotten pretty damn lucky when it came to finding wives. His oldest brother Chase had a wife who was a real traffic stopper. And as in love with Chase now as she was in the beginning.

And Clay had scored in a big way with Rusty. She was one of the top trainers in the country of horses for barrel racing, and since she and Clay had gotten together, had become the top-ranked barrel racer in the world. She had a way with horses that was downright spooky.

But then, she was a witch. Just like Ana. Cole thought it ironic beyond mere coincidence that two of his brothers had married witches. He’d often wondered if there was a sexy witch out there in the world waiting for him.

That brought a snort that had a couple of people giving him strange looks. If there was a woman for him out there, he’d never know it. He had no interest in bars and clubs or anything that had to do with city life. Since the day he’d finished graduate school, he’d turned his back on that life.

Life as a ranger suited his solitary nature and his need to be away from people. Sure, he had to interact with people in his job, but by and large his days were spent alone out in the vastness of the park, patrolling or being involved in rescues of lost hikers or accident victims.

It had been months since his last date. He still got a bad taste in his mouth when he remembered it. The woman was in her mid-twenties, blonde, built like a centerfold and about as environmentally aware as a bag of rocks. Conversation with her was restricted to either what movie star did what, or whether she should have a chin implant to make her profile look better.

That was one of the most miserable evenings Cole could remember. She had been completely disinterested in what he did, had even laughed and called him Smoky the Bear.

Cole pushed aside thoughts of the miserable date as Tim Matthews, the Director of the Rocky Mountain National Park, came up behind him. “You set for this, Cole?” Tim asked.

“Yep,” Cole replied.

Tim took a look around the room. “Scout hasn’t shown up yet?”

“Scout?”

“Windrider.”

“Any relation to Jed?” Cole asked.

“Yep, and hand-trained, old-school fashion by the old man himself pretty much since birth,” Tim replied. “I’m gonna grab a cup of coffee and get things rolling.”

“That’s a ten-four,” Cole replied.

Something nagged at Cole’s memory. Something about Windrider. But what? He searched his memory. Suddenly it came to him. A ROMO report he’d read last year on mountain lions, discussing the nature and potential for human-mountain lion interaction in ROMO, or Rocky Mountain National Park.

Capturing the lions had proven a monumental task. That’s what had brought Windrider onto the scene. Within a year of Windrider coming aboard the study team conducted or assisted with twenty-six safe captures individual mountain lions in Larimer County and ROMO. The animals were fitted with GPS collars and released.

Which meant that Windrider had a definite edge in the competition. He knew the lay of the land and had a personal commitment to the preservation of the species.

Cole wondered if Scout looked anything like his father. Jed had been a big man, with sharp features, hard eyes, and long graying hair. His native heritage had been quite apparent.

A murmur in the crowd behind him drew his attention. He turned and saw the top of a dark head making its way through the crowd, the person being stopped every few seconds by one of the hunters or specialists who had suddenly congregated around the mystery person.

Scout greeted the men she knew, gave polite greetings to the ones she was introduced to, and continued making her way to the front of the room. The crowd thinned and she saw the man standing off by himself.

No way! He looked just like the bull rider whose career she’d been following, and who she’d been having very delicious and erotic fantasies about for the last few years. Yum. Her insides started to purr at the thought. Rein it in was her second. She was there to win. The last thing she needed to think about was sex.

Tim Matthews stepped into her path. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.”

“Not likely. How’re you doing, Tim? Donna and Tommy okay?”

“Good, and good,” he replied. “He’s signing up for T-ball this spring. First time.”

“And I bet you signed up to coach,” she said with a smile. Tim was the most devoted husband and father she’d ever met.

“You bet.”

“Let me know the schedule and I’ll come cheer you on,” she said and took a look around. “So, you have the roster drawn up? Who’re you gonna saddle me with?”

Tim laughed. “Actually, it’s a blind draw. Speaking of which, I need to get the show on the road.”

“Have at it,” she replied and wandered over to one side of the room where she could watch everyone as Tim called the meeting to order.

The crowd fell silent while Tim greeted everyone and explained the rules. It was a three-week hunt. The team with the most tags won. The Park was closed down for those three weeks and access to the surrounding wilderness was being patrolled to keep people out. However, they were warned to report anyone they encountered via their radio headsets so that any civilians could be removed from the area.

“Now, this hat contains the names of all the specialists from the Center as well as the rangers,” he finished with. “My assistant here, Rodney, will call out the name of each hunter. As your name is called, please step forward or identify yourself. I will draw a name from the hat and that will be your teammate. Please wait until all names are called before you get with your teammate. As soon as we’re all paired up, I’ll be coordinating the drop-off points and times for the teams and will post it on the board behind me. Be geared up and ready to go at the appointed time. Any questions?”

With no questions, Tim began the process of team assignment. Scout paid attention to the pairings. She saw several people she worked with at the Center being paired up with noted hunters, and one with a hunter she was unfamiliar with.

When her name was called, she raised her hand. “Windrider.”

Tim drew a name. “Cole Russell.”

The name sparked Scout’s attention. The bull rider she had a thing for was named Clay Russell. She scanned the crowd. Sure enough, the sexy look-alike she’d noticed raised his hand and looked in her direction.

Whoa baby! the lusty wench inside her cheered. Scout pushed the thought aside with a measure of irritation at herself. She wasn’t there to get a date but to compete. She nodded her head at Russell then turned her attention back to Tim.

Once finished, Tim moved off to consult with his assistant and coordinate the drop-off points. The men moved through the room, introducing themselves to their teammates.

Scout pushed away from the wall and made for the door as Cole Russell made his way toward her. She walked outside and waited. The moment he stepped through the door, their eyes met. For the space of a breath the world went silent. A thousand whispers wafted through her mind, all saying the same thing. Trouble.

Scout acknowledged and agreed. Cole Russell was a man who could definitely make her think of all kinds of delicious ways to get in trouble. From the look in his eyes and the electricity arcing between them, she got the idea he wouldn’t be opposed to a bit of trouble. But now was not the time.

Cole was definitely thinking of trouble. The kind of trouble he could easily slide into with the woman looking up at him. She had the eyes of a cat, wary but curious, the color unidentifiable in the dark, but the almond shape as unmistakable as the heavy fringe of dark lashes. Lean with soft but angular lines, she looked almost feline. Except for those full, lush lips.

He never got past her face. That was enough to capture him and hold him spellbound. For a long moment they remained frozen, eyes locked.

“You’re not what I expected,” he said, uncomfortable at the sudden swelling taking place south of his belt.

The hint of a smile lightened Scout’s eyes. “No? Just what did you expect, Mr. Russell?”

Cole was distracted. The camouflage tank top she wore hugged her body like a glove. And what a body. Curves in all the right places, firm and well-toned.

“Let me guess,” she filled the silence. “You thought I was a man. But I’m not. Come on. My gear is in my truck.”

He fell in step beside her as she turned. She paused to look up at the sky. “Gonna be a good day. But might rain tonight.”

“You get all that from looking at the sky?” Cole asked.

“Nope,” she replied and continued walking toward her truck. “National weather service.”

He grinned and the grin widened as he watched her walk in front of him, her tight little ass twitching enticingly. The grin faded as an erection started to swell. He’d have to get a grip on it fast if they were going to work together and win this competition. Spending three weeks with a raging hard-on had no appeal at all.

Scout was digging through a backpack when he reached her truck. She pulled out a plastic squirt bottle. “Take off your shirt.”

“Huh?”

“Take off your shirt. You smell like a man.”

Cole was taken aback by the statement. “You trying to tell me I stink?”

“Animals rely on their sense of smell, and you don’t smell like the wilderness. Now take off your shirt.”

“No.”

“Fine, have it your way.” She started misting him with the squirt bottle.

“Hey!” he protested. The stuff smelled really bad. “What the hell is that?”

She continued to mist, circling around him. “It’s a tea from trees and plants common in this area.”

She finished then doused herself liberally with the concoction. She returned the bottle to her pack. “It’d be best if we had a fire.”

“You know it’s against the law to start a fire in a national park. Besides what do we need a fire for?”

“Because you showered with…” She moved in close and sniffed at him. “Dial soap. And your clothes still smell like detergent.”

“How the hell can you smell that with me saturated with this…concoction?”

“Point is, if I can smell it, so can an animal.” Scout blew out her breath. “Look, I know tracking isn’t your specialty, but you’re a ranger. You know we’re not going to track down anything if we can’t blend into the environment. The smell of smoke is natural in the woods.”

“But animals are afraid of smoke and fire.”

“Only the sight of it. Not the smell.”

“Well, we can’t build a fire,” he argued.

“Fine, then we’ll do it another way. Take off your clothes. We need to get your skin saturated with this and rub your clothes in dirt or it won’t be enough to kill the smell of soap and cologne the fabric has already absorbed.”

“Whoa, lady!” He held up both hands, palms out and took a step back. “No way I’m taking off my clothes.”

“Then get in your truck and do it. Just do it.”

“No.”

“Fine, then stay at least half an hour behind me.” She turned to her pack, pulled out an old, stained belt and strapped it around her hips.

“Like hell,” Cole argued.

Scout snatched a long-bladed hunting knife in a worn holster from her pack and fastened it to her belt. “Look, Mr. Russell, I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m just telling you that as long as you smell like sex in jeans then you’re not tracking through—”

“Sex in jeans?” Cole blurted.

Scout bit her lip. “You still smell like a man and animals will catch your scent a mile away. So, either you have to change your smell, or you have to stay behind. Your choice but make it now.”

“I suppose the damn animals won’t smell you?” Cole asked angrily.

“Do you?”

He blinked, and then frowned. He stepped closer and sniffed. Then took another step and sniffed again. Nothing. He moved in close, towering over her and leaned down to smell her hair.

“You smell like…” He straightened up in surprise. “The woods.”

“Exactly,” she said with a smile. “And you have to smell like the woods too.”

“Well, barring the fire and taking off my clothes, you have any suggestions?”

Scout looked around and took off, disappearing into the trees. Cole stood there wondering if she had just run off and left him or if she was going to come back. Just as he’d decided to take off after her, she reappeared.

“Here,” she said, showing him the handful of spruce berries she held. “Unbutton your shirt.”

Cole started to argue but decided against it. He unbuttoned his shirt. Scout frowned at the sight of the tight tee shirt beneath the button up. “Pull it up,” she said and turned her attention to mashing the berries with her right hand, using her left to contain them.

Blowing out his breath in frustration, Cole complied. Scout scooped up some of the mashed berries and looked at Cole.

Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, she fought not to react. He was built. Seriously built. She started smearing her hand over his chest and abdomen, trying not to take any delight in the feel of all that hard muscle and smooth skin.

His back was as gorgeous as his front. She quickly smeared his skin, running her hands up and down his back, then up his sides to his armpits. When she finished, she wiped her hands on his shirt. “Okay, maybe that’ll do it,” she said, returning to the truck and busying herself with using the tea from the squirt bottle to rinse the stickiness from her hands. “Once you start to sweat the scent will get into your clothes and dilute the chemical smell.”

Truth be told she needed a moment to collect herself. It had been a while since she’d touched a man, and in all her life she’d never touched one who was built like Cole Russell. It took all her willpower to turn her thoughts away from his hard body and back to the task at hand.

Cole buttoned and tucked in his shirt. “So do I still smell like sex in jeans?”

Scout jerked her head around in surprise to find him grinning at her. She snorted and turned away. “Nope. You ready?”

“Yep. Let me grab my pack.”

Scout watched him walk to his truck, unable to stop herself from admiring the view. He had a nice firm butt and strong legs and a stride that was both confident and strong.

Cole pulled on his pack and reached into the cab of the truck for his radio and a rifle. He also grabbed a map. “You know this area?” he asked as he turned to her.

“Pretty much. Why?”

“I was thinking about the last cat sighting,” he said as he unfolded the map. “See, right here. Maybe that’s the first place we should look.”

“Or not. Just because a cat was spotted there doesn’t mean it is now. They have a pretty big territory. An adult male’s home range can cover over one hundred square miles. As a rule, females have smaller ranges, around twenty to sixty square miles. In this area the competition for habitat isn’t extreme, but we can still have as many as six to ten adult males occupying the same hundred square miles,” Scout said.

“Lot of ground to cover. So, what do you think our target should be?”

“Depends,” she replied and looked at the map for a second. “Maybe here.” She pointed to an area on the map.

“Why?” Cole asked.

“One, it’s nearing time for cubs to be born, which means the mothers will have a safe place secured. And two, if I was a cat that’s where I’d go,” Scout replied, still looking at the map.

“Is that a valid tracking technique or just a hunch?”

“Intuition.” She looked up with a smile. “And experience. Here’s what I think.” She pointed to the map. “We make our way from wherever our drop-off point is to here. Until this turn, then we cut across toward the east and work our way north when we reach the ridge.”

“Lots of climbing to do taking that route,” Cole replied.

“You got gear?”

“In my pack.”

“Climbing bother you, Mr. Russell?”

“Not a bit. But why do all that useless climbing? If we take the trail to the junction here, turn west and follow the trail to here, then—”

“You think cats follow a hiking trail, Mr. Russell?”

“No, I don’t. But—”

“Look, I know you’re more familiar with the park than I am, but trust me, I know cats and we’re not going to find them following that trail.”

“And we’re not going to find them if we spend the whole day climbing,” he argued.

“Oh, no? Just where do you think that cats are going to hole up? Out in the open? Those cliffs are riddled with niches and caves. A perfect place for expectant cats to den. I say we take the west-northwest route. It’s our best bet.”

“I disagree.”

“Fine, disagree.” Scout was starting to get a little annoyed and a whole lot impatient. This fellow might be sexy as hell, a hands-down great ranger, but she knew cats and was a tracker. “You take the trail. I’ll go alone.”

“We’re not splitting up.”

“Then you best be following me,” she said and started walking toward the lodge. “Turn off that radio and make sure there’s no live ammo in that gun. This is a no-kill hunt.”

Cole blew out his breath, folded the map and jammed it into the pocket of his jacket. Scout Windrider might be really easy on the eyes, but he was starting to get the idea that she was going to be a true pain in the ass.

“I’m not loaded with anything but tranquilizers.”

“Good.”

She strode ahead of him back to the meeting hall. It took nearly half an hour before they were on their way. They were trucked to a small clearing where a dozen helicopters waited.

“You have experience making aerial descents?” Scout asked as they were motioned over by one of the pilots.

“Yeah. You?”

“A few times. I’m not an expert but I can handle it.”

They climbed into the helicopter and were silent until the copilot got out of his seat to help them harness up for the descent.

Scout admired Cole’s proficiency. He’d obviously done this before. In minutes they were both on the ground with the helicopter headed back to base. Scout turned to look at Cole and when their eyes met, she could have sworn that sparks arced through the air between them, the current was so strong.

Three weeks, she thought, for the first time in her life feeling like three weeks in the wilderness was a terribly long time. How the hell was she going to make it three weeks alone with Cole Russell if every time he looked at her all she could think about was ripping off his clothes and putting her hands, mouth, and body all over him?

“You get a bead on our position from the air?” Cole asked.

“Yeah.” She forced her attention back on the matter at hand. “I hoped we’d get a drop point closer, but it is what it is. I estimate a two-day hike before we reach the base of the cliffs. Sound about right to you?”

“Pretty much.”

“Then let’s move,” she said and took the lead.

Cole nodded without comment. Silence fell around them. Silence that he noticed. Most of all because she made no sound. Not just in lack of words or sounds of her breath. She made no sound as she moved.

He kept those thoughts and all others to himself for the next three hours. In silence, he followed and observed. There was something about Scout that intrigued him. It was like the moment she stepped into the woods she became part of them.

Her movements were like water, very fluid and smooth. They covered far more ground in three hours than he’d anticipated. They reached a basin canopied by trees and she stopped.

For several minutes she stood perfectly still, and then she turned to him. “We can take a break if you want. Report into base camp that we’re in the field and going silent, then turn off the radio.”

“Isn’t that against protocol?”

“We only have to report in once a day. Nothing more. So, we do it now then go silent,” she replied and looked him in the eyes. His first thought was of her eyes. Now that the sun had risen, he could see their color in depth, and it was remarkable. Around the pupils the color was copper that faded to a warm gold as it spread out over the iris, ending in a band of dark gold that seemed to outline the unusual coloration. He could only compare them to a wild creature. A cat, he thought. She has the eyes of a cat.

“What if base tries to reach us?”

“They won’t. They won’t make the mistake you’re making now.”

“Which is?”

“Thinking that we’re still back in that world. We’re not. Make no mistake. We’re in my world now, and as the lead in this team I have to insist that either you do this my way or turn around and go back.”

“Are you always this hard to get along with?” Cole’s ire was rising, despite his fascination with her eyes.

Scout regarded him for a moment. “Let me ask you something. What’s your specialty?”

“Rescue and fire.”

She nodded. “So, let’s say there was an injured hiker up there on that ridge. You’d know exactly what you needed to do to get to him and get him down safely, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, it’s the same thing,” she explained. “I know cats, Mr. Russell. And I know how to track. So, I’m going to ask you to trust me to do what I do best. Do you think you can do that?”

Cole felt a little ashamed. He’d let her bossiness annoy him. And in all honesty, he probably would not have felt the same way if she’d been a man. The fact that she was this small, incredibly sexy, and monumentally vexing woman had made him forget that she was Jed Windrider’s prodigy.

“Yeah, I can do that. And I thought we were past the Mr. and Miss thing.”

Scout smiled. “Sorry…Cole. Now why don’t you radio Tim?”

While Cole made the call, Scout wandered off a little ways. She closed her eyes and took a long slow breath.

Where are you? she called silently. Talk to me.

The only answer she got was a sudden stabbing pain in her hip. Her eyes flew open. Something was wrong. Very wrong. They had no time to waste.