Sharp Shootin' Cowboy (Hot Cowboy Nights, #3)(44)

He stared unseeingly as the state wildlife biologist droned on about moose parasites. He was restless, and his mind was wandering. Another biologist was scheduled to speak on the new mule deer initiative. Both would present their charts and graphs depicting the declining populations and hypothesize about all the probable causes—none of which included wolves.

They all tried to skirt around the whole predator controversy. It was too hot to touch without getting burned. How long would the tension continue to build before something or someone lit the fuse? He’d had enough of this kind of bullshit in the Marines—problems and solutions as plain as day to the grunts in the field but seemingly invisible or maybe just ignored by the bureaucrats.

He didn’t know how much longer he could sit there. He was antsy as hell. His palms were sweating, and the walls starting to close in. Ready to crawl out of his skin, Reid mumbled an excuse to his father and brother, grabbed his hat and coat, and made a swift exit.

Striding out of the ballroom, he made for the first exterior door leading out to a terrace. Reid paced the length of it several times before stopping to suck in a lungful of air so cold that it burned. A shiver erupting over him brought him back to earth and spurred him to drag his jacket over his arms and shoulders, but he didn’t zip it. He loved the cold after having spent so much time in the blistering heat of the desert. He tried not to think about those years too much, but they were never completely out of mind. He didn’t know how long he’d stood there with his gaze fixed sightlessly on the mountains, lost in his thoughts.

He turned at the creak of the terrace doors opening behind him. “Reid?”

He was stunned to see her.

She took a few tentative steps towards him. “I thought that was you out here.”

“Dr. Cooper.” He tipped his hat. “You’re about the last person I expected to see here.”

“Haley, please,” she said. “I’m here because Jim asked me to do a presentation on wolf recovery. He thought it would serve as a good introduction for me.”

“Good luck with that,” he remarked dryly. He’d perused the program earlier but hadn’t paid attention to the various presenters’ names. He probably would have left had he known she was here.

“I was hoping you’d be here,” she said.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“You never gave me a chance to talk to you after the hearing last week.”

He responded with a derisive laugh. “I didn’t think there was a whole lot left to say after you laid your laundry list of crimes at my feet.”

“You lied to me, Reid. The necropsy and forensics reports confirmed the cause of death as a thirty caliber round through the heart. Your client carried a fifty caliber BMG. You own a .300 Winchester. You told me she was killed by a hunter, but you’re the one who shot my wolf!”

“Hold it right there. I’ve never lied to you. I told you it happened on an elk hunt. All the details were in the report I made to the Board of Outfitters. The hunter took the first shot and only wounded it, so I had to finish the job. I never denied that, but it was a mercy killing. She was surrounded by two of her pack mates who were ready to rip her to shreds. If you’d taken the trouble to read the report first, you could have saved yourself a lot of trouble. Instead, you chose to assume the worst of me.”

She ran her tongue nervously over her lips. “I didn’t read it first because I didn’t want to be biased. I needed to examine the facts for myself. It’s my job, Reid. I have to be neutral.”

“You didn’t have to suspend my license,” he countered. “What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“Perhaps I was a bit overzealous,” she said. “I’m sorry for making it more difficult than it had to be. My only excuse is that I’m feeling overwhelmed and defensive. I didn’t expect it to be like this.”

“Like what?”

“So hostile.”

“Hate to say it, but it’ll probably get a whole lot worse before it gets any better.”

“That’s why I came to the convention. Jim said my job would be a lot easier if I could gain the outfitters’ cooperation, but I don’t know how to go about that. I’m worried that I’ve already burned my bridges.”

Reid considered her for a long moment. She seemed sincerely contrite and looked so small and alone. He was exactly the connection she needed to mend fences with the hunters and ranchers—especially after what had happened. He reminded himself he’d already been burned by her once, but he still couldn’t find it in himself to walk away. “I offered to show you around a few weeks ago. The offer stands.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Really? I—I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes to dinner,” he blurted without thinking.

“I’m not very hungry,” she replied.

“Well, I suspect that’s likely to change, given that it’s barely lunchtime yet.”

“Oh yeah. I guess you’re right.”

“Meet you in the bar at six?” he suggested.

“Six,” she repeated dumbly. “All right. Please excuse me. I have notes to review.” She spun toward the door as if making an escape.

He watched her departure, willing his pulse to slow down. He’d rattled her good, but damned if she hadn’t done the same to him. He’d understood her anger about the wolf. He’d seen the pain in her eyes when she’d spoken about her. The wolves were like family to her, or maybe a substitute for the family she’d always craved. At one time he’d wanted to be the man to give her what she needed, but she hadn’t been ready. A lot of things had changed since then.