Shadows of the Mountain Read online

  Nikki reached up and snagged a tan hat with an understated beige feather. “What about this hat instead? So I don’t look like a peacock.” She shot Allie an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. The purple one looks great on you. It’s just not my style, you know...”

  Her voice trailed off and her obvious chagrin might have made Allie laugh if she weren’t already feeling so vulnerable.

  “No worries,” Allie said. “Take any hat you want.”

  “Thanks,” Nikki said. “Think I’ll skip the eye shadow and just head over for supper.” She adjusted the hat low over her forehead. “Are you walking over now?”

  “No, I’ll come over later for the Man Tracker announcement,” Allie said. She wasn’t hungry. After the roping lesson she’d ducked into the kitchen where the cook had whipped her up a cheese soufflé and a fresh pot of coffee. Besides, there was something she needed to do while everyone was busy in the dining hall.

  Once Nikki left, she closed the door and waited in her room. The dorm walls were paper thin and usually the sound of chatter was comforting. Today she was just impatient for everyone to leave. Two more people stopped by, checking to see if she was heading over for supper. Finally the last steps faded.

  She reached beneath her bed and pulled out a lariat. It was a soft one and much shorter than the rope she’d struggled with, further proof that Carter had been holding out on her. Of course, guests should always be assigned the best equipment. She’d never argue that.

  But there was an unwritten rule that staff looked out for each other and Carter had been deliberately mean... No, not mean but indifferent. Just as he’d been since his arrival. She could handle it though. Most of her mother’s boyfriends had been cold too, no matter how hard she’d tried to please.

  She was no longer a kid though and she wasn’t alone. She had a huge family here. She might not be useful as a ranch hand but she contributed in any way possible. And she was determined to be better at tomorrow’s roping lesson. Maybe then Carter would show her some respect.

  Besides, the Man Tracker contestants would be at the next lesson and those guys were always interesting, whether it was one of Nikki’s beloved hockey players or the star quarterback from some football team. She didn’t want to look klutzy in front of them. She might be slow at moving hay bales but she could certainly learn to rope a plastic steer. At least she should be able to do it with a little more practice, away from the disdain Carter hadn’t bothered to hide.

  Grabbing the lariat and an empty trash can, she hurried from her room and into the deserted hall. She hadn’t played many sports before but she had been a cheerleader—the flyer at the top of the pyramid—and that took dexterity and good timing. There was no reason why she couldn’t learn to throw a rope. No reason at all.

  She fingered the lariat, positioning it exactly as Carter had demonstrated. He hadn’t given her any individual attention but Dwight had noticed her struggles and stepped up to help, despite Carter’s narrowing eyes. She couldn’t understand the man and why he was always so displeased. He’d asked her to act more interested in the lesson so naturally she was trying to learn. But it was clear he didn’t want to teach her.

  Holding the coil in her left hand, she took a practice swing. Three revolutions, Carter had said. On her first swing the rope hit the wall. On her second try, it almost smashed the overhead light. By the tenth throw, she was better at judging the narrow space and the rope finally shot forward—not anywhere near the garbage can but at least it was moving in the right direction.

  Forty-five minutes later, she was actually snagging the garbage can. Not every time but her rhythm and aim was much better. And she loved twirling the loop over her head. Sometimes she swung it twenty times. It made her feel strong and capable, like a real ranch hand. Tomorrow she should have no trouble roping a plastic steer. She couldn’t wait to see Carter’s surprise.

  Two hours later, she swept into the dance hall, feeling rather pleased with herself. Her swing might not be up to Carter’s high standards, but the rope had landed over the trash can more times than it had missed. She’d lowered her expectations a bit because, after all, roping wasn’t easy. Now she accepted she might not rope both horns on the first try, or even the second, but she’d consistently be able to rope part of the steer. Good enough that she wouldn’t be the worst student in the class. She definitely wouldn’t rope her foot.

  “Glad you’re finally here,” Sharon Barrett said, yanking Allie’s attention back to the hall. “You know the sound system and lighting. Can you position the media in the best spot? Be sure to tell them that our celebrity contestant will be holding interviews at the end of the evening.”

  “Is there only one contestant?” Allie asked, scanning the clipboard Sharon had pressed into her hand. Media names were listed on the sheet, and it was great to see the knowledgeable host from the Missoula Sports Network was here. But only one contestant? That went against Man Tracker rules. Both the hunted and hunters worked in pairs. It was too risky to race individually in the back country. Quarry could finish the game alone if one of the partners were caught, but they always started as a team.

  “Of course there are two contestants,” Sharon said. “But only one of them is famous. So be sure to use her picture in all your social media.”

  Her, so it was a woman. Up to now it had always been men. Probably not a hockey player either. Nikki would be disappointed. But judging from the media turnout, this mystery woman had been built up as extremely newsworthy.

  An athlete turned politician maybe? However, politicians probably wouldn’t want to rough it and a retired athlete might not be fit enough. The race wouldn’t be a success for anyone if the quarry were caught in the first hour. It had to be someone in excellent shape, one prepared to sleep on the cold ground and tough enough to thrive on granola bars and jerky.

  A race car driver maybe? Or a jockey? They were tough and wiry, and there were some famous women riders... No. They’d be busy this time of year and there was no monetary prize. Only a notable amount of free publicity.

  Allie allowed herself a swell of satisfaction, knowing her social media savvy had helped boost this event. The Mustang River Ranch enjoyed a huge number of Twitter followers, with almost as many on Facebook and Instagram. She was the only employee trusted to post pictures since guest privacy was scrupulously protected. If a contestant didn’t want media exposure, the public wouldn’t even know they were competing.

  Clearly this particular contestant wanted the world to know and was intent on gaining bragging rights. But winning wasn’t a given. The two competitors needed to follow a map over rough terrain and reach a specific point before the allotted days were up. Monty and Carter would have no map, but they would be on horses and they were good at picking up a trail.

  At least Monty was. Carter’s tracking skills were unproven.

  Now she understood why Sharon had been so keen to keep Carter happy. A gorgeous rodeo star, chasing a woman equally famous—and no doubt almost as attractive—would make scintillating photos. The Twitter sphere would eat it up.

  “Get candid pictures tomorrow,” Sharon said. “Lots of them. Of both Carter and the contestants. And be sure to get Carter’s blanket release signed tonight.”

  “Carter might not want a lot of picture taking,” Allie said. In fact, she already knew he wouldn’t. Trina hadn’t even been able to coax him to stand beside her and Dwight for a selfie. And they were guests. Allie was only an assistant who Carter didn’t want, or like. “I really don’t think he’ll want me to take his picture,” she repeated.

  “He has to. That’s part of his job trial. Once the Man Tracker race is over, I’ll re-assess his performance. So I want to have lots of his photos on file in case he doesn’t pan out.”

  Allie’s hand tightened around the clipboard. Sometimes her boss was so callous. Naturally the ranch couldn’t provide permanent jobs for everyone, and only yesterday Allie had hoped Carter would quit. But it seemed cruel t
o bend over backwards for him before the race and afterwards cut him loose. On the other hand, Sharon was a business owner. She hadn’t built the ranch into a prestigious resort by hiring people who couldn’t improve the bottom line. And instructors needed to be flexible and friendly.

  “I enjoyed my roping lesson with Carter today,” Allie said. “He’s very good at teaching.”

  Sharon swiveled, her full attention on Allie now. “You actually picked up a rope?”

  “Yes, Carter taught me.” She tried not to be flattened by her boss’s incredulous tone. She also refrained from admitting she’d spent considerable time practicing in the hall, chucking a rope over a dented trash can. That probably wouldn’t sound good for Carter’s teaching skills.

  “Maybe I need to give you more spare time so you can try out some equine activities,” Sharon said. “If he can teach you to ride as well, he’d be a heck of a motivator. And maybe worth offering a permanent job.”

  “My throwing a rope will have to be enough for this year,” Allie said, uneasy with the notion that her learning to ride could affect Carter’s job security. She’d ridden a horse once before. It had been at a friend’s birthday and the animal had looked so tired and skinny, she’d felt guilty climbing on his back. She’d spent the rest of the party sneaking him pieces of carrot cake.

  “We’ll see,” Sharon said. “But I already had complaints that Carter didn’t provide enough personal teaching and that there was too much waiting. From female guests, of course. At least we’ll get our money’s worth from him on Man Tracker. I can’t wait to see them together. This is one woman who’s sure to spark his interest.”

  Allie felt a little twinge in her chest. Not jealousy of course, just curiosity about the woman who was special enough to draw his attention. “Who’s the contestant?” she asked.

  Sharon looked at the stage. Allie followed her gaze, surprised to see that the TV host from Butte had driven all the way out to act as emcee. He stepped up to the microphone and began his introductory spiel, something Allie knew by heart since she’d stayed up late last night writing it.

  Sharon leaned over, her voice lowering to a confidential whisper. “I can tell you the woman’s name now. You deserve to know before anyone else. It’s Janet Bailey.”

  Janet Bailey. Allie nodded, all the while wracking her brain. She’d heard the name before but couldn’t remember the context. Something to do with clothes or TV. An actress maybe? But could a woman like that race for four days with very few provisions, trying to elude two mounted and determined cowboys? Would she be tough enough? Fast enough?

  Allie rather hoped it was an actress. Then Carter might realize that not all women had to be athletes or horse experts to be worthy of breathing the same air. He might learn to appreciate other types of women too. Not that she wanted his attention. But broadening his outlook would make him better with the guests, better for the ranch. And more likely to hang on to his job.

  She glanced at Sharon but her boss just looked smug, clearly assuming Allie knew this Janet Bailey person, at least by reputation. And now the emcee was talking about courage, hard work and the driving commitment to succeed, his voice swelling with such excitement both staff and guests edged closer to the stage. Allie still couldn’t place who Janet Bailey was but moments later, she had her answer about whether the woman would be fast enough.

  A fluttering American flag captured Allie’s attention first. Then her gaze dropped to the beautiful brunette carrying it. The woman waved the flag like a hero, all the while flashing smiles to the cheering audience. Running shorts revealed long sculpted legs, legs that had proven perfect at clearing hurdles and beating every challenger. And the confident face that had graced television screens worldwide beamed at the crowd, flashing every bit as brightly as the Olympic gold medal dangling around her neck.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  JANET BAILEY WAS A media magnet. Over the next ninety minutes Allie gathered pens, supplied paper and snapped pictures as the Olympic hero posed with almost everyone in the room. Even Carter seemed enthralled, not even objecting when he was called back for another round of photos. His interest wasn’t entirely on Janet’s medal though. Allie noticed how his gaze kept drifting over the woman’s long shapely legs.

  “Evaluating her potential race speed?” Allie asked.

  “Something like that.” He spoke with an irritating lack of discomfort.

  “Sharon wants this finalized tonight,” Allie said, handing him a pen and the full release and waiver. “Maybe you should step away from Janet and read it carefully. There are a few non-standard clauses.”

  But Carter just enfolded the pen in his big hand, barely scanning the agreement.

  Allie pressed her lips together, determined not to warn him again. He was starstruck, like everyone else in the room, and it was obvious why Sharon wanted the waiver signed tonight. Still, it didn’t seem fair to press him now, especially since, as Nikki had pointed out, he had a weakness for athletes. And though Allie always followed her boss’s orders, her sense of fair play left her conflicted.

  She shifted closer, speaking fast and low. “This release gives Mustang River Ranch the right to use your photo. That includes any future calendars or the ranch blog or any other form of social media, printed or electronic.” She lowered her voice even more. “And there’s no compensation, whether or not you still work here.”

  “I know.” Carter scrawled his signature then stared across the room.

  Janet was doing a leg kick now, ostensibly demonstrating some sort of leaping technique, although likely she was aware of the sheer perfection of her body. And that everyone in the room was watching—at least every male.

  “You should read the full document.” Allie shifted in front of Carter, trying to block his view even though he was so tall he could see Janet over her head. “You’ll have the next five days to check out the contestants.”

  “I did read it,” he said. “And I already verbally agreed to this. Besides, my picture isn’t worth much.” He lowered his gaze, his brown eyes surprisingly candid, almost pained. “I do appreciate you pointing it out to me though. Thank you, Allie.”

  He’d never looked at her like that and there was something different about the timbre of his voice, something that made her insides feel a bit mushy. But then he lifted his head, dismissing her with his usual indifference, his attention once again locked on the beautiful Olympian. Not just an Olympian but a gold medal winner in the women’s 100 meters hurdles.

  “Think you and Monty will be able to catch her?” Allie asked, reluctant to leave his side, despite that he was admiring another woman.

  “Depends if she’s any good at hiding her trail,” he said. “Obviously she has the ability and will to push past her exhaustion. It’s the inner drive that makes a winner. And Janet’s already proven she has tons of that.”

  The respect in his voice was rather irritating. Besides, she had plenty of inner drive too. Lots of times she kept dancing with guests when she really wanted to return to her room. She’d endured squashed toes, bad breath and boot blisters, never once complaining. Not much anyway.

  She turned her gaze from Janet, instead studying the woman’s partner, Rebecca Smith. Rebecca was also a track and field athlete but since she hadn’t medaled in the Olympics she was largely being ignored. She wore a staid blue track suit that concealed her arms and legs, as if she were content to stay in the background. Maybe that was one of the reasons Janet had chosen to partner with her. There’d be no danger of Rebecca stealing the headlines, or potential sponsors.

  Of course, neither woman was accustomed to racing over rough terrain. They could choose to stay on the trails but that type of ground was easier for horses too. If they heard Carter and Monty closing in, they’d have to duck into the dense brush where horses couldn’t follow. The drawback to that strategy was the valuable time they’d lose by hiding. Allie always wanted the ranch to win. This time she found herself wanting it even more. She didn’t think she’d enj
oy the sight of Janet preening as she ran across the finish line.

  “What’s the time limit on this race?” she asked.

  “Ninety-six hours,” Carter said.

  Allie shuddered. Four days in the woods with bogs, black flies and bears, all the while trying to reach a secret destination while being chased by two mounted cowboys. She’d heard plenty of Man Tracker stories from Kate and the whole thing sounded like torture, especially for the quarry. Even so, if Janet Bailey’s fame was ebbing, this competition might propel her back into the spotlight.

  If Janet won, she’d no doubt earn another round of lucrative endorsements, everything from ladies’ deodorant to 24-hour makeup. She’d already enjoyed a variety of sponsorships following the last Olympics. Allie had even ordered a sports bra after hearing Janet’s confident claim. The bra looked sexy, but it had proved useless for vigorous dancing. Eighty bucks wasted.

  “I hope you catch her,” Allie said fervently.

  “I hope we do too,” Carter said.

  She glanced up, surprised that his vehemence matched hers. Of course, the outcome of the chase was as important to him as it was to Janet. This was his job audition, and it would be a big boost to capture an Olympic champion. Sharon would quickly want that victory posted on the website.

  Conversely, if Janet raced to victory, he would likely be kept in a teaching position...which he wouldn’t keep very long if he couldn’t be nicer to the guests. Allie waffled, but as usual she couldn’t leave a co-worker hanging out to dry, even an unorthodox instructor like Carter.

  “Tomorrow let’s organize the lesson a little differently,” she said brightly. “Especially since Janet and Rebecca will be there. It’ll be really hectic and we don’t want the other guests feeling ignored. We should be ready to start on time too, with hay bales already out.”