Her Cowboy Distraction(36)

He'd been in the coma for ninety-three long days and it had taken him  another two months to feel up to the task he knew he had to do-take out  Samuel before he could destroy any more people and lives.

Which was why he'd spent these last two days and nights in the woods adjacent to Cold Plains.

Minutes before he'd made his way to the bluff, he'd met with his FBI  contact, Hawk. Hawk had grown up in Cold Plains and after years of being  away from his hometown had returned to discover that the  rough-around-the-edges place where he'd grown up as son of the town  drunk had transformed into something eerily perfect. A town run by a  group of people who others referred to under their breaths as the  Devotees and their leader, the movie-star handsome, but frightening and  dangerous Samuel Grayson.

For the past two nights Micah and Hawk had met at dusk in the woods so  Hawk could keep Micah apprised of what was going on in town and how the  FBI investigation into Samuel's misdeeds was progressing.

As he thought about everything Hawk had shared with him over the last  two days, a dull throb began at the scar in the side of his head. He  drew in several deep, long breaths, attempting to will away one of the  killer migraines that the bullet had left behind.

He turned and started off the bluff, deciding to make his way down the  mountain, closer to town. The only time he dared to do a little  reconnaissance of the layout of the town was at night. He knew that if  anyone caught sight of him it would be reported back to Samuel, and the  last thing Micah wanted Samuel to know was that he was not only still  alive but he was also here and working with the FBI to bring him down.

As always, he moved silently, knowing that the woods held many secrets.  Just the night before, he'd stumbled upon two women amid the brush and  trees. Darcy Craven had fainted at the sight of him, assuming he was his  brother, but the woman with her, June Farrow, had recognized that he  wasn't Samuel and had taken him to the safe house located in an area  called Hidden Valley.

The safe house and surrounding land, only accessible by hiking or  helicopter, had become an important haven for those trying to escape  Samuel and his minions. The woods weren't just filled with those trying  to escape the small town, but also dangerous hunters tracking them down.

Samuel had to be stopped. The words had reverberated in his head the  moment he'd awakened from his coma and that thought was the driving  force that got him up each morning, his final thought before falling  asleep at night.

He froze as he thought he heard a sound someplace to his left. It  sounded like a baby's cry; there for just a moment and then gone as if  stolen from the gentle night breeze. He remained still, his index finger  ready to fire the gun gripped tight in his hand if necessary.

Micah wasn't given to flights of fantasy. He knew he'd heard something.  It was possible that it had been some sort of animal, but there was no  way he intended to leave this area until he found the source of the  sound.

There were hunters in the woods, but Micah was one, too, and if he  managed to get to one of the men who worked for Samuel, he'd turn them  over to the FBI to help them build a case against the man, hopefully a  case that would avenge the deaths of the five women Micah knew in his  heart his brother was responsible for killing.

The noise came again … a quick cry that was just as quickly gone. The  darkness of the night seemed to press in around him as he targeted in on  the area where he thought the sound had originated.

The moon slivered through the tree branches here and there, filtering  down enough illumination to be both a little bit helpful and definitely  dangerous. Micah kept to the dark shadows as he made his way toward the  noise.                       
       
           



       

Somebody was in the woods, of that he was certain. He wouldn't put it  past Samuel to arrange for one of his minions to make the noises he'd  heard, hoping to draw somebody out of the safe house, hoping that  somebody could be taken into custody and then be forced to give up the  location of the place of safety.

His heart took on the slow, steady beat of a trained soldier as he  advanced forward. He'd just stepped around a tree when he saw her.  Despite the fact that she was backed into the brush, her white-blond  hair served as a beacon calling to the moonlight.

In an instant, he took in everything. Small and petite, her jeans and  blouse appeared dirty and her hair was tangled with bits of leaves and  brush caught in the curly length. She held a baby in a sling across her  chest and a sharp, pointed stick raised in her hand.

If she thought that puny stick might be used as a weapon against him,  she was sadly mistaken. Micah could have that stick out of her hand and  broken in half before she ever saw him coming.

As he stepped close enough for her to see him, she looked up and gasped, her green eyes widening in abject terror.

"I won't tell," she exclaimed fervently. "Please don't hurt me. I swear I  won't tell anyone what I saw. Just let me have my other son and we'll  go far away from here. I'll never speak your name again." Her voice  cracked as she focused on his gun and he realized she believed he was  Samuel.

Certainly it was dark enough that anyone could mistake him for his  brother. When the brothers were together it was easy to see the subtle  differences between them. Micah's face was slightly thinner, his  features more chiseled than those of his brother.

At the moment, Micah knew Samuel kept his hair cut neat and tidy while  Micah's long hair was tied back. He reached up and pulled the rawhide  strip, allowing his hair to fall from its binds.

The woman gasped once again. "You aren't him … but you look like him. Who  are you?" Her voice still held fear as she dropped the stick and  protectively clutched the baby closer to her chest.

"Who are you?" he countered. He wasn't about to be taken in by a  pale-haired angel with big green eyes in this evil place where angels  probably couldn't exist.

"I'm Olivia Conner, and this is my son Sam." Tears filled her eyes. "I  have another son, but he's still in town. I couldn't get to him before I  ran away. I've heard rumors that there was a safe house somewhere, but  I've been in the woods for two days and I can't find it." The tears  spilled a little faster. "I need to get someplace safe, where Sam can  get something to eat and I can go back into town and get my other son."

Micah was unmoved by her tears and by her story. He knew how devious his  brother could be and Micah would do everything possible to protect the  location of the safe house. There was only one way to know for sure if  she was one of Samuel's "Devotees."

"I need to see your right hip," he said.

Once again her eyes opened wide, but it was obvious she knew why he'd  made the demand. The people closest to Samuel, the people who were a  part of his "cult" were all tattooed on their right hip with a letter D.  Before he took her anywhere, he needed to see that she wasn't wearing  Samuel's mark.

She pulled the sling over her neck and placed the baby on the ground  where he sat up and gazed at Micah with a drooling grin. Olivia stood,  dwarfed by Micah's six feet two and as she looked up at him, he saw the  fear that still simmered in the depths of her eyes.

Her slender fingers trembled as they unfastened her jeans and slipped  them down low enough to expose one pale hip. Micah pulled a flashlight  from his pocket and shone it on the area, wanting to be absolutely sure  that he didn't miss any tattoo that would mark her as one of Samuel's  closest followers.

Confident that there was nothing there, he motioned her to refasten her  jeans. "You never told me who you are," she said as she fastened the  jeans and then pulled on the sling and the child back against her chest.

"And you never told me exactly how you came to be in the middle of the  woods in the dead of the night with only one of your two children," he  countered.

In the light of the moon he saw her eyes darken and fear once again  shine from the depths. She hesitated, as if unsure what to tell him,  then finally released a weary sigh. "I was on my way to the child care  center to pick up my three-year-old son Ethan when I saw something that  shocked me … something that frightened me so badly I just ran. Please, I  need help. We're hungry. My baby is hungry."                       
       
           



       

Micah knew he was a good judge of character and more than once that  quality had saved his life. There was a genuine desperation in her eyes,  and that, coupled with the absence of the telltale tattoo, allowed him  to put away any misgivings about her credibility.