Black Hills

The right diet, the right care. I’m going to look into breeding her next year.”
    Jenna nodded, sat. “This is probably nothing.”
    “Oh-oh.”
    “You know Alan Tobias, the ranger.”
    “Sure. He brings his kids here.”
    “He’s helping out tonight.”
    “That’s nice of him. I should go out and thank him.”
    “Yes, at some point. He told us there’s a hiker missing.”
    “For how long?”
    “He was due back around four. His wife didn’t start worrying, seriously, until five.”
    “Well, it’s barely eight.”
    “And dark. He’s not answering his cell phone.”
    Nerves jangled, but she spoke calmly. “Reception’s spotty. You know that.”
    “I do, and it’s probably nothing. He probably got turned around a little, and he may end up having a lousy night if he doesn’t make it back to a trailhead soon. But Lil, he was hiking Crow Peak, and that’s not all that far from where you trapped the cougar with Coop.”
    “It’s a full-day hike to the summit and back, and it’s not an easy trail. If he’s not experienced, it would take longer, probably longer than he allowed. Why was he hiking alone?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t have all the details.” Jenna glanced toward the window, and the dark. “They’re looking for him.”
    “I’m sure they’ll find him.”
    “They’ve looked for the man who shot your cougar, the man who came here. They haven’t found him.”
    “He doesn’t want to be found,” Lil pointed out. “This hiker does.”
    “They’re calling for rain before morning. Hard rain.” Jenna looked back toward the window. “You can smell it coming. I have a sick feeling about this, Lil. A sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that more than hard rain’s coming.”

18
    The rain came, and came hard. At dawn, Lil dragged herself back into the house, hung her slicker up to dry, pulled off her soaked and muddy boots.
    She wanted to grab another hour’s sleep. Two if she could manage it, then spend a couple days in a hot shower and eat like a lum berjack.
    As of dawn, the hiker—James Tyler of St. Paul, according to her sources—hadn’t been found. She hoped the worst that happened was he’d spent an even more miserable night than she had.
    She moved quietly in her bare feet out of the kitchen and toward the stairs. But when she glanced at the living room, the sofa was empty. Gone home, she assumed. She hadn’t seen his truck, but then in the driving rain she hadn’t seen much of anything. Relaxing, she climbed the stairs.
    Set the alarm, she told herself. Ninety minutes would be a good compromise. Then bed. Warm, soft, dry bed.
    When she stepped into her room she saw that warm, soft, dry bed was already occupied.
    She gritted her teeth against the curse that sprang to her tongue, but when she started to back out, Coop’s eyes opened.
    “I’m not sleeping on the damn couch.”
    “Fine. It’s morning, so you can get up and go. You can make coffee if you want it, but be quiet. I need some sleep.” She stalked across the bedroom to the bath, and shut the door, firmly.
    So, shower first, she thought. She’d sleep better for it. Nice hot shower, then bed. No big deal. And no reason the man shouldn’t make use of the bed after standing out in the dark for several hours.
    She stripped off, leaving her clothes in a puddle on the floor, then switched the shower on, full and hot as she could stand. She actually moaned when she stepped in and felt the heat beat through her chilled skin to her chilled bones.
    She hissed when the curtain flicked back. “Goddamn it!”
    “I want a shower.”
    “It’s my shower.”
    He simply stepped in behind her. “Plenty of room, plenty of water.”
    She shoved her wet hair out of her face. “You go too far, Cooper.”
    “Too far would be putting my hands on you, which I won’t.”
    “I’m tired. I’m not going to argue with you.”
    “Good. I’m not in the mood for an argument.” He pumped out some of the shower gel, soaped up. “We’re going to get some flooding with this rain.”
    She just let the water beat over her head. She didn’t want conversation either.
    She stepped out first, wrapped her body in a towel, wrapped her hair in another. In the bedroom she pulled on flannel pants and a T-shirt, then sat on the side of the bed to set her alarm.
    He came out, damp hair, jeans, and a shirt he hadn’t bothered to button. “Did they find the hiker?”
    “No. Not yet. Not when I came in.”
    He nodded, then sat