Rugged Daddy (Dark Daddy Doms Book 2) by Ava Sinclair

Author:Ava Sinclair [Sinclair, Ava]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Published: 2018-02-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

There are voices outside. At first, I think am dreaming them, but as I rouse myself awake, I ascertain that they are real. One is Zane’s. The other is not.

How long have I been asleep? I sit up on the bed. My bottom feels tender and bruised. I can tell by the light that it’s morning. Jesus, did I really sleep through the night? I look down and realize I’m still in my clothes, and it’s obvious that I did. I’m glad I did now, because I want to see who’s out there. I pull on my boots and walk out onto the front porch. The man Zane is talking to is wearing a uniform. He looks up at me and then back at Zane.

“You didn’t tell me you had a guest, Zane.”

Zane looks at me. “This is the friend from out of town,” he says, winking at me. “Eva, meet Joel. Joel is one of our friendly rangers, although we don’t see him very often.”

Joel, a short, wiry man with a boyish face, tips his hat in my direction. “He’s right. I don’t come out this way, but when I saw the flare, I figured it came from here and figured you were either in danger or sending out an invitation.”

I like Joel immediately, and can tell by Zane’s easy manner that he likes him, too. Joel asks Zane how he’s running on supplies. Zane tells him he’s holding out for now, but may have to head over to Munford to replenish. Then he formally introduces me to Joel, who walks to the porch and extends his hand so I can shake it. I can see him looking at my odd clothing, and know he’s wondering why I’m dressed in a dated, childish, homespun dress. I suddenly feel self-conscious, and long for real clothes—blue jeans and sweaters, panties and bras.

Zane invites Joel in, and I fix hot cocoa as the men continue to talk. The conversation turns to Joel’s job.

“Busting many illegal hunters?” he asks.

Joel shakes his head. “We have bigger fish to fry these days. Remember when I came by and told you about that white bear, how we thought it was poached?”

Zane nods.

“Keep this under your hat, but we’ve had three hibernating bears killed. Three. I think one of them was one you tagged personally about six years ago, the big male with one ear?”

Zane’s face grows hard. “Go on.”

“One of the researchers lost the signal on the collar and went up to check. He was hoping to replace it while the bear was still in torpor, but he found the bear gone and the collar cut off. He called the station and we started checking other dens. We found two other collars—both with a signal, but they’d been cut off, too. We think they’re the same poacher. Pretty sure they didn’t mean to damage the first collar. They had to know that the loss of a signal might cause someone to check.”

“Any leads on how they’re finding the bears?”

“This is the most shameful part of the story.

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