Ryder Policy Read online

  “Honey, I could cut myself worse on a dull razor than on that teeny little thing.”

  “I will kill you,” she said with dead seriousness.

  “You'd have to get near me first,” he said, and chuckled. “Why don't I make it easier for you?”

  He sauntered closer. Absolute panic lit her eyes and he almost felt sorry for her—almost. His stomach growled with hunger; he figured she had stolen half his rabbit as well the night before. Her body began shaking and he was surprised she didn't flee; perhaps she was frozen in fear. He gentled his look and held his large hands splayed in a complacent gesture.

  He smiled down on her. Her head was already tipped upwards to meet his gaze; she wasn't even tall enough to reach his shoulders in height. When he was a foot away she lunged for him. He had been ready. He grabbed her wrist and disarmed her easily. She spun low and when her hip collided with his thighs he was taken off-guard when she flipped him onto his chest. His breath came out in a large startled, “Oomph.” He recovered and grabbed her ankle as she bolted.

  She went down hard onto her knees. He heard her cry out when she hit the dirt. Her elbow came back and smashed into his mouth. She rolled and kicked at his chest with the leg his hand wasn't clamped onto. Her foot collided with his breastbone. Hudson swore a foul oath; damn she was a tough little bugger! She was fighting like a crazed maniac! He didn't like hurting anyone, and he disliked hurting women less, but he needed to stop this once and for all. He grabbed her none too gently, flipped her under him and pinned her beneath him. She struggled wildly, but he kept her immobile.

  “You'll only hurt yourself,” he stated, keeping his voice calm. He understood her fear. It was what saved her from him smacking her, as she beat and clawed at his chest.

  In a last ditch effort she thrust her hips up and tried to wiggle out from under him. Her knee smashed into his back.

  “I warned you,” he said, shaking his head with resolve.

  Hudson lifted his huge fist into the air as though to strike and wrapped his other hand around her throat, applying gentle pressure. She stilled immediately and whimpered. Her wild, terrified gaze settled onto his closed, raised hand. Her fingers splayed before her in a pleading gesture. Her eyes filled with tears that spilled down her wan cheeks. Hudson let her think about it for a moment. His expression, he knew, was fierce. It was then he heard a small sound. It was coming from inside the tiny cave she had sought shelter in. The tempo rose higher.

  “Please,” she wept. Her hand then settled onto the arm that held her throat. “Please don't hurt my baby.”

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  * * *

  Chapter Two

  Hudson lowered his fist. He removed his hand from her throat, but kept her pinned beneath him. He looked down into her frightened face as she continued to plead with him. It made sense to him now why she wouldn't flee, why she chose to fight a man who could obviously kill her without breaking a sweat.

  She continued her steady stream of pitiful words, her breath coming in a gasping hiccup as she begged for the life of her child. The babe within the cave was whining out a string of babbling words increasing in tempo. He heard, “Ma na, da ya, ba, ma.” As he watched, he heard the woman gasp in terror as the tiny tot crawled from within. His jacket lay over the child's rump. The baby's eyes lit with acknowledgment when it saw its mother.

  “No,” the woman beneath him called as the baby crawled with purpose towards them both, the entire while continuing the stream of babbling words. His jacket slipped off her back end to languish amidst the leaves. “Please don't hurt her,” the woman begged.

  When a tiny, pudgy hand settled onto his thigh, Hudson lifted the child gingerly into his arms. The baby smiled a wide grin, flashing two pearly white bottom teeth. She immediately latched onto Hudson's hair and gave a tug.

  “Like mother, like daughter,” he exclaimed as he pried her attacking tiny fist free. He chuckled down at the child in delight; the tiny imp had the grip of a baby warrior! He gently wrestled the two hairs she had been able to yank from his head out of her tiny hand.

  “Please give me my baby,” the woman beneath him pleaded.

  The resemblance between the breathtaking mother and beautiful child was unmistakable; both had the same vibrant, indigo blue eyes and long, thick black lashes. The mother's hair was a long, deep auburn. The short tufts of the babe's were a deep strawberry blond. Hudson rose, taking the girl with him.

  The mother scrambled to her feet and reached for her, but Hudson kept her at bay. He continued to study both mother and child. The baby couldn't have been more than ten or eleven months. Except for a few smudges dotting her clothing she looked the picture of health; it was apparent they hadn't been out here long. The baby stuffed her thumb in her mouth, and then tried to put her fingers into his mouth. He blew gently on her face and she chortled and ducked to hide her face in his neck. Her tiny nose was cold and Hudson cuddled her closer. He ran his large hand over the downy softness of her head.

  “What are you doing out here? Are you alone?” he asked.

  The woman bounced from foot to foot in agitation. Hudson moved to retrieve his jacket from the ground. When he had the baby wrapped within the engulfing denim, he lowered the child into her mother's arms; she crushed the child to her breasts and sobbed in relief.

  “Yes, we're alone,” she voiced quietly, she gazed at him with wary distrust. Her chin rested on top of the babe's head.

  “What's your name?” he asked.

  “Simetra, and this is my daughter, Ryder. Who are you, and what do you want?”

  “My name is Hudson, and for starters I'd like my axe back!”

  Simetra looked up at him guiltily. She motioned towards the stack of fallen wood; his axe rested on top. Hudson ambled over to pick it up. He surveyed the area. Beside the fire pit were the remains of at least ten of his pack of emergency matches. He raised an eyebrow and gave Simetra a sideways glance.

  “Never started an open fire before, have you?” he asked with amusement. Her cheeks brightened a brilliant shade of red.

  He crouched low to peer into the cave, which was no more than a possible wolf den. It was dark and damp and smelled fetid. The woman's coat was lying on the hard dirt ground, no doubt as a bed for the baby. It was freezing inside the darkened hole; no wonder she had confiscated his coat. They were lucky they hadn't frozen to death during the night. Hudson rose to his feet, angry. He approached the woman, who had yet to stop shaking.

  “You spent the night in there?” he demanded, his face twisted into a furious scowl of outrage. “All alone, no blankets, no food, except what you stole from me, and no fire? Damn, woman, where's your sense?”

  “I didn't have any matches,” she mumbled. She shifted from foot to foot at his open display of anger. “I didn't have any choice.”

  “What the hell are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere with that infant?” He was now all business, standing less than a foot away from her, hands on hips. “Were you the one who made off with my rabbit?” She nodded up at him; her shame was apparent. “You should have asked for my help last night for the child's sake at least. Look, Simetra, I'm a cop. If you're running from someone you better tell me now. Where's the baby's father?”

  She hung her head and refused to speak.

  “When was the last time the baby ate anything?” he demanded. His hand gripped her chin in his refusal to be ignored, lifting her head up.

  Again, Simetra colored a bright red when physically forced to meet his glare. “I fed her before you arrived.”

  “What? The fish?”

  “No, I'm still...ah...I'm breastfeeding,” she muttered.

  “The food was for you?” he asked.

  “I didn't know if she could have bits of rabbit or fish. I have lots of milk; as long as I eat she will be fine.”

  Hudson just stared down at her. She was right. He remembered his mother telling him he wouldn't touch solid food until he was a year old. He turned out fine. Bu
t he wondered what to do with them. His friend had dropped him off and wouldn't return for him for another six days. It would be difficult to trek their way out of heavy bush. There were no trails to follow, and they had the baby to consider. They were at least a hundred miles from civilization.

  He ran a quick hand over his face, pondering the dilemma. No, it was better to stay put and wait it out.

  Hudson released her. He strode over to the fire and stomped it out, ignoring her squeal of protest. He reached into the cave and grabbed her jacket and, after shaking it out, he scooped the baby into his arms, again ignoring her protests. He handed her the flimsy coat and told her to put it on.

  “Follow me,” he demanded, again no nonsense.

  Then with long strides, carrying the baby pressed against his chest, he strode off in the direction of his own camp. If she wasn't going to tell him what he wanted to know that was fine, but he had his own agenda. He was out here for a much-needed break and come hell or high water he was damned well going to relax!

  * * * *

  Simetra sat inside the warm, snug lean-to. She was still feeling a bit stunned at how this had come about so suddenly. She wondered if perhaps she was in shock. These last months had been hell. When they had returned to Hudson's camp he had reinforced the walls of his shelter, mumbling it was fine for him, but not for a baby, and sealing them in more tightly. He had barely said more than a few words to her before leaving them alone.

  The fire burnt brightly in a stunning brilliance before her. She was nursing Ryder while Hudson was out hunting. She hoped he caught something; she was famished. It was early evening and she was feeling uncomfortable. When he returned he would no doubt question her again, only this time in depth. She was positive he wouldn't take no for an answer. What was she to say? Oh, we were dumped out here to die, no biggy!

  Ryder had stopped suckling. She was asleep. Simetra took her baby finger and wiped a drop of milk from her chin. She hugged her baby closer and kissed her forehead. Her body rocked with the magnitude of her emotions as they screamed at her. How could he have done this to her? To their child? How could he have left them alone with his brother, Terrance? What was she gong to do? She felt so afraid and vulnerable.

  Reflecting back, she still wondered why Terrance's lackey hadn't harmed her or Ryder. She knew Terrance wouldn't have the balls to commit cold-blooded murder. But Banner; now he was scary. He had grabbed her before she could escape. When he had tossed both her and Ryder into his car she never imagined he would just dump them out here, in the middle of nowhere. They had nothing, no means of survival. What was the point? Did he want them to suffer before they died? How could he be so cruel?

  And then when she had come across Hudson she had been certain Banner had hired him to kill them. After she had stolen Hudson's cooked rabbit she had thought all night about him being in the exact same place at the same time. Could it really have been coincidence? He said he was a cop, and he had shown her his warrant card with identification. He had mentioned every year he took the same vacation. She wondered if Banner had known that. But why would he turn her over to a cop? It made no sense when he had to know Terrance needed them dead.

  Simetra lay the baby down. Ryder remained snugly wrapped in Hudson's jacket. He had mentioned his friend was returning to get him in less than a week and they were going to sit tight. At the end of those six days she was, in no uncertain terms, going to spill her guts if she knew what was good for her.

  She shook with the thought. She had never met such a formidable man before; he was more intimidating than Banner, but in a different way. She knew he wasn't kidding. He told her if she didn't explain right down to the last detail he would call child services and charge her with endangerment. She almost expired with the thought. No one was going to touch her baby! She had snarled that out to him, her teeth ground together so viciously his eyes had widened. She was willing to take him on for her baby. For Ryder, she would battle the world.

  Her gaze shifted as Hudson approached. Over his massively muscled shoulders was a small, young doe, hardly more than a fawn, really. She felt a moment's compassion for the animal, but shook it off as her tummy grumbled in hungry protest. She loved venison. Her appetite had been pathetic at best these last few months since Max had died. She had only eaten to make certain her milk would continue to flow.

  When Terrance, Max's younger brother, had told her they were penniless, she had been horrified. Max's death had been classified as a suicide; he had shot himself. She hadn't believed it then and believed it less now.

  When Terrance had confronted her with her husband's life insurance policy she had almost vomited. For some reason there was a condition to the rider policy Max had never mentioned—if anything were to happen to Ryder, or herself, Terrance would inherit over a million dollars. She hadn't even been aware Ryder had been added to their policy, and for such an excessive amount. It didn't make sense to her. Max had hated Terrance and vice versa. Max would rather hand over their worldly possessions to the neighbors’ ill-tempered cat!

  Hudson strode past her into the woods without offering her a glance. She watched his easy gait, the long-legged stride. He moved as though he were carrying a feather. She was again wondering what to disclose to him. Delicately speaking, Max's affairs were somewhat iffy with legality at times. To her knowledge no one had ever been hurt. Until now.

  Ryder lay sleeping. Simetra calmed her thoughts by watching the rise and fall of her tiny little chest. She marveled again that they were still alive. She had stumbled onto Hudson their first day in the forest, only a few hours after Banner had dropped them off without a word, and a shove in the direction of the lake.

  For a terrifying moment she thought he had meant to drown them. Instead he had offered her one of those smiles that made her skin crawl and he got back into his car. She stood there shaking, the baby held tightly within her arms. Once inside his car he again pointed towards the lake. For the briefest of seconds she was certain she saw compassion in his normally cold eyes. The look was gone before she could really comprehend the meaning. She had walked towards the lake needing water, making slow progress, wary of all the different sounds.

  Although she loved the woods, she had never in her life been camping alone. Hudson's fire had caught her attention just as the sun was beginning to set. She had crouched low to the ground, creeping closer on careful feet. She trembled when she saw he was armed. He was huge! She wondered if he was what Banner had in store for them. But if he was, he should have been looking for them. Not sitting quietly, looking content as he ate.

  Her mouth had watered as he took bite after bite of the heavenly smelling meat. Thankfully Ryder had been sleeping. She had turned her jacket into a carrier for the baby, leaving her hands free. She had remained in her hidden position for so long her legs had cramped and ached. She had almost sobbed aloud when he seemed to attack the fish with his mouth.

  When he rose and sauntered away, she didn't think, she just acted. She made a dash for the remaining rabbit and took off with it. She stuffed pieces into her mouth, mindful of the bones, and ate on the run. She had been lucky to stumble onto the small cave a short distance away. She had curled her body around the baby and slept fitfully throughout the long, lonely, frightening night.

  Again she watched with some misgiving as Hudson approached. He held a huge piece of meat in his hands. Without a word he tied it between two large sticks with fishing wire he removed from within the hilt of his hollowed-out knife handle. He set his makeshift rotisserie over the fire. Once finished, he settled back and leveled his piercing brown eyes upon her, making her squirm uncomfortably. Without breaking eye contact, he meticulously rubbed the blood from his hands using dried leaves.

  “I don't need your entire life story, just the ones pertinent to why you're out here with a baby.” His tone was decidedly no-nonsense. Simetra swallowed hard, feeling an interrogation was imminent.

  Her fingers played with a small rip in her jeans caused by their tussle.
She cleared her throat a few times. She wasn't afraid he would abandon her out here. Whether he was off-duty or not she sensed he was a man of honor. That alone gave her strength.

  “I need your help, please,” she asked, feeling subdued.

  “No kidding,” he scoffed.

  Her eyes rose to meet his. She knew in an instant her vulnerability was visible to him, as his look softened.

  “Someone's after you.” It was a statement. She supposed she should have been shocked by his uncanny perception, but oddly enough she wasn't.

  “Yes,” she muttered.

  “Is it your husband?”

  “No, my husband, Max, is dead. And I'm positive his brother murdered him, just like he wants to murder Ryder and me.”

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  * * *

  Chapter Three

  Hudson was almost certain his jaw could have ricocheted off the rock beneath him when his mouth dropped open at her disclosure. Slowly, he shook his head. He could see she was serious. He regained his composure quickly. After turning the meat on the rotisserie he sat calmly before her. Her body quivered like a frostbitten Chihuahua.

  “Why do you believe your husband was murdered?”

  “He was shot in the head.”

  Hudson didn't know what it was, but he knew she wasn't being exactly truthful. His interrogation skills honed, he sensed by her tense, fidgety body movement, the fine bead of sweat that appeared at her forehead, her dancing fingers, she was being evasive. For all he knew she could be her husband's killer, though he doubted it. He could also interpret temperament with a great deal of self-taught skill; she would kill to save her child, but she didn't seem capable of a cold-blooded act. Perhaps her husband had threatened her baby?

  “This Max, was he your baby's biological father?”

  “Yes.”

  “When was he killed?”

  “A few months ago. Right before Ryder turned seven months.”

  “You say he was shot in the head. Did you see it happen?”