Ryder Policy Read online

  She squirmed, looking uncomfortable. Her lowered eyes rose to his. Her chin quivered.

  “No,” she breathed out on a soft breath.

  “Then what makes you so certain? What proof do you have?”

  A sneaking suspicion her husband's death was declared a suicide popped into his head. She had the classic signs of denial, grasping at a tenacious thread. But her disillusions could cause someone great heartache. If she fantasized her husband was killed and didn't leave her on purpose it would be easier to accept his death, especially with the little one. Although it still made no sense what she was doing out here. Why bring a baby out here with no supplies? Unless she was running—or hiding.

  He wondered then if her husband was really dead and this was a custody issue. Although that could be a possibility, he quickly dismissed it, thinking he would handle one issue at a time. It also wouldn't be smart to tell a cop of a death if there wasn't one. He could find out easily enough, she would have to be smart enough to understand that. So for now he remained with the assumption the man had really died. Perhaps her mental health was collapsing?

  Hudson watched her thoughtfully; she didn't appear to be mentally off, just emotionally drained. Perhaps her husband's death had taken its toll and she just needed time to get away and think.

  Simetra hung her head, and then turned as Ryder, awake from her nap, crawled into Hudson's lap. The baby rattled off a bunch of incoherent words in a hushed tone, giving her the air of communicating a secret to Hudson. Simetra looked at him in surprise when he took the tot to his chest and cuddled her. Smiling, he babbled back her own words, causing the babe to squeal loudly with delight.

  “I've never seen her take to someone so quickly,” Simetra said.

  “I like kids,” he replied.

  “I can see that.”

  Ryder pulled herself up to stand in his lap. With his help she wobbled on her unsteady, pudgy legs.

  “Well, little lady, aren't you the fashion statement in your blue overalls and blue sweater,” Hudson said, although it was more of a question posed to her mother, as an eyebrow rose.

  “I dressed her like a boy,” Simetra stated. Her eyes darted about as though she were uncomfortable.

  “Making a break for it?”

  “Trying to.”

  “Who dumped you out here? Or did you manage to escape from whoever it was?”

  “He left us here,” she muttered, head lowered. Hudson could see she was on the verge of tears.

  Ryder preoccupied herself with one of his shirt buttons. Her blue eyes then skittered off in a different direction as though something distracted her. She smiled with delight and waved a chubby hand. Hudson gazed over his shoulder, but he could see nothing.

  “She's been doing that since we got out here. It's a bit creepy,” Simetra said, and gave a small grimace.

  “Dryads,” Hudson stated.

  “Hmm?”

  “They're wood nymphs. They hang out around oak trees. The forest is full of them.”

  “The forest is full of wood nymphs?” she asked, incredulous.

  “No, oak trees,” he replied with a wry grin and a quick wink.

  She was slowly shaking her head. “You sound like my mother with her silly superstitions.”

  Hudson smiled at her. “My dad used to take my mom and me camping all the time. She told me all about Dryads. They are friends of Artemis.”

  “Yes, I know all about Artemis,” she replied with a dismissing wave of her hand.

  “I wouldn't doubt it with a name like Simetra.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Not many people put it together so quickly. My mother was a bit fantastical, so she reversed my name, thinking it would somehow protect me.”

  “Artemis protects women and girls.”

  “A lot of good she has done me.”

  Hudson chuckled at her petulant expression. “She protects virgins. You're obviously no longer a virgin,” he commented, and jiggled Ryder until the baby laughed. Simetra turned red. “Maybe Artemis sent you to me for protection,” he said with a teasing air.

  “Maybe,” she mumbled.

  Hudson handed Ryder over to her. He turned the meat again. It smelled heavenly. Juices were beginning to drop into the small flames, making them dance and sizzle.

  “I thought Artemis protected deer,” Simetra questioned, and gave a quick motion to the meat.

  “She does. This poor little thing was trapped between a large pile of rocks. She must have fallen, her leg was broke. I put her out of her misery. She was dehydrated from thirst. I swear when she saw me she looked relieved, if a deer can look relieved.”

  “Where's the rest of it?”

  “I have it just over there.” Hudson motioned to a spot a small distance away, where tendrils of smoke rose. “I'm smoking it. It will last all week that way and I won't have to leave you to find more food. Except fish, and you can both come with me when I fish.”

  He refrained from mentioning he had been hesitant to leave them alone. For one thing he was worried she would bolt. For another he was worried what might get them. They were both defenseless. There were wolves in these parts, grizzlies, and perhaps even a hunter or two of women and children, if he were to believe her story.

  “So, who was it that dumped you out here?” he asked.

  “A man named Banner.” She shivered as she said this, her face paled, and he understood she was fearful of the man. He decided he believed at least that part of her story. “He works for my brother-in-law. That's the part I don't understand. I'm certain he was supposed to kill us. Why he just left us is a mystery.”

  Simetra sat the baby onto her lap and gave her the watch she was wearing to play with. Hudson's mind was working at a fast pace. He had a woman and baby before him. They had to have been dropped off; he had scouted around the area and seen no one else. Although that didn't necessarily mean there wasn't anyone else about. She was obviously terrified of the man named Banner. But was this all just in her head?

  “Do you have anyone else, once we get back, who you can stay with?” he asked.

  “No. Ryder and I are all alone; my parents died years ago. Max was all we had. He promised to protect us and stay with us forever,” she said, her tone bitter.

  “Simetra,” he began, “sometimes people go away and there isn't a reason.”

  “He left us alone.”

  “You're not alone. I'm here.”

  “Are you going to go away too?”

  “I'm not going anywhere without you. Without the both of you.”

  “Promise?”

  Her forlorn face gazed up at him so woefully he was hit with the shock of her despair. Her wounded expression mirrored his own gaze after his mother had passed. It was enough for him to believe her husband was indeed gone. He was moved to run a gentle hand down the length of her silken hair. He knelt before her.

  “I promise.”

  * * * *

  Simetra lay unmoving in the darkness. All was silent. Beyond the lean-to she could make out the tendrils of floating smoke from the banked fire. Ryder was curled in her arms against her chest. The hard dirt floor had been made soft by the sweet smelling boughs of pine laid beneath them and covered over with a once tightly packaged thermal blanket. Hudson said he used the blanket only in extreme emergencies and felt this was one of those times.

  Hudson's large body lay before her, blocking the entrance to their shelter, his muscled bulk like an impenetrable steel door. During the night he had shifted, and with the baby pressed between them, he had gathered them both closer to offer his warmth and protection from the chilly, unpredictable night. His jean jacket had been draped over the two of them.

  She felt warm and protected. It was the first night since Max had died that she didn't feel so lost and alone. Her chin dropped to rest on Ryder's warm head, causing her forehead to nestle against Hudson's chest. His arms tightened around her back and she relaxed into him. Though he was a stranger, he had been compassionate and caring
. He had promised to help her, although she had the distinct impression he didn't believe her entirely.

  The thought saddened her, but it couldn't be helped. This was one of those times her mother would have said she was in need of blind faith. She was blind all right. And her faith and the fate of her child rested on one man.

  Her weary eyes began to close as Hudson's warmth blanketed her. She let his awesome power cloak her vulnerability. Banner may come back, but even he wasn't nearly as large as Hudson. The thought was a comfort and she gave in to sleep.

  * * * *

  Simetra woke to the sound of Ryder's high-pitched squeal. She bolted to her feet after scrambling out of the lean-to. Her heart racing, she searched frantically for her child. Her gaze centered at once on Ryder, flying high into the air, then captured to Hudson's chest with powerful arms. Ryder was laughing louder than she had ever heard her laugh before.

  Simetra placed a hand to her heaving chest and calmed her racing heart. Her breasts were swollen, her nipples tingled with needed release, an indication it was time for Ryder to have breakfast. Her nerves calming, she walked to the man and reached for her child. Hudson relinquished her with obvious reluctance.

  “We were having fun,” he stated. Simetra smiled into his disappointed expression. On a sad note she wondered if Max would have played with his daughter the same way.

  “She needs to eat,” she said.

  Hudson looked relieved and she wondered if he had thought that she didn't want him playing with her baby.

  “You can have her back when she's done. But no tossing her. Unless you don't mind her tossing her breakfast all over you!” she warned.

  Hudson rewarded her with a grin from ear to ear. As she wandered back to their shelter he followed her. Simetra settled herself and lay Ryder across her lap. Hudson cut them both a piece of the venison he had roasting on a spit. He handed her a large chunk, then settled back to eat as well. Ryder nursed contentedly, occasionally offering Hudson an almost toothless grin.

  “This is delicious,” Simetra complimented.

  Hudson concurred with his mouth full, just nodding. Delicately she chewed on another piece while he devoured the remainder. She had never seen anyone eat so much. She bet his grocery bill was astronomical.

  “When we're done I want to fish. All this fresh air gives me such an appetite! You can bring Ryder to the lakeside and watch her there while I keep an eye on the both of you.”

  Simetra bowed her head. “I won't run away from you.”

  “I think I understand that. But on the way in I encountered a grizzly. Big bugger, too. I want you both close. And last night I heard a wolf howl. I've also seen mountain lions in this area. I don't want for either of you to be made off with like fast food.”

  Simetra shivered. She was determined to stay very close to this man. “Thank you for breakfast.”

  “Let's just hope I can get some fish for lunch. I don't want your milk drying up.”

  Simetra's face flamed at his bold talk. He even made a point of looking directly at her milk-laced nipple, which had slipped from Ryder's mouth. She hurriedly positioned the baby back into place, where she commenced suckling once more.

  Hudson finished his meal and rose. He mentioned he would be close. He just wanted to collect more firewood while he waited for them to finish their breakfast. Simetra watched him walk a small ways, then attack a dead tree. He went to work smashing the old decaying log into oblivion. Soon enough he had made a huge pile that would last throughout the day and well into the next morning. He had stripped his shirt off. He had barely broken a sweat. His muscles bulged with the easy stroke of his axe.

  She smiled, thinking he could be mistaken for a Greek God. She wondered if Apollo, Artemis’ brother, was as large and commanding. Despite the mental reference, there was nothing platonic about the way she evaluated his physique. Simetra couldn't help but feel impressed. When she looked up at him, she was mortified to find him grinning at her, as though he could hear her thoughts, or perhaps read her admiring expression.

  Simetra ducked her head and concentrated on her daughter, who was once again staring at a point in the distance. Simetra followed her gaze. She could see nothing. But when she looked back down at Ryder, the baby was frowning. Her spine tingled with a sense of foreboding.

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  * * *

  Chapter Four

  Three days passed much the same as the first. Hudson captured their food or roasted roots to supplement their diet. Simetra marveled at his ingenuity to catch fish with a simple piece of fishing wire and a sharpened stick with bait. He roasted pine cones that, when heated, cracked to reveal the nut inside. He found budding berries as treats. Simetra was introduced to a smorgasbord of delicacies she hadn't known existed. It was akin to shopping at Mother Nature's grocery store, a fascinating concept.

  Each day her amazement of the man before her grew until respect replaced any residual thoughts of wariness. He was amazing with Ryder and it was easy to see she adored him in return after such a short time spent with him. He loved to place the child on his high shoulder and carry her. He seemed not to mind her tiny fist clutched his dark hair for balance. He led them on trails, ever cautious of any wildlife, introducing them both to an abundance of living. When he spoke about the animals he did so with compassion, respect and a wealth of knowledge.

  He explained in detail the cunning home of the beaver. The antics of chipmunks and how their movement reminded him of a fast forward of an old Laurel and Hardy movie. He showed her how to listen for the approach of a predator. The lumbering, snuffling gait of a bear. Or how to listen with her acute senses. He told her to put her woman's intuition into high gear. If she felt like she was being watched, she most likely was.

  He patiently answered her numerous questions without the slightest hint of exasperation. He encouraged her to try new things, or explore on her own, as long as she remained within his sight. She grew to trust him. More important, she grew to trust him with the life of her baby.

  As the sky darkened another day they conversed quietly by the fire. They had spoken at length about their childhoods. They had both been pleasantly surprised to find out they had a great deal in common. Simetra grew comfortable around him; enough to let her guard down and admit to Max's somewhat sketchy past, although there were still a number of things she omitted telling him. She knew he still had yet to trust her as well.

  Ryder had fallen asleep in Hudson's arms. Simetra was worried about her. She had been fussy the last few hours. Time after time Ryder's gaze had drifted into the distance and each time it had, she became more distressed. Her babbling had increased to a dramatic proportion and then ceased altogether. In a low soothing voice, Hudson had sung to her. He rocked her within his arms, cuddled close to his chest. It was with reluctance the child closed sleepy eyes and gave in to her apparent exhaustion, her little fist clutched to Hudson's shirt.

  “Maybe she's teething,” Simetra muttered worriedly.

  “Maybe,” Hudson replied.

  The large man was gazing down at the child as she slept fitfully, occasionally whimpering. Hudson's brows narrowed, his forehead furrowed.

  “What is it?” Simetra asked with apprehension.

  “Maybe there's something in the air.”

  “What? What's in the air?” she whispered.

  “I feel something.”

  “Like what?” She squirmed, feeling nervous. Hudson looked so serious. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, goose bumps dotted her arms.

  Hudson's gaze shifted towards the sky; his frown deepened. Simetra looked upwards as well. There was noticeably more cloud activity. Perhaps it was going to rain?

  Hudson passed Ryder back over into her arms. She cradled her to her chest. He rose and walked a short distance from them, only to return moments later. He was suddenly yanking his jacket and the blanket from within the lean-to.

  He packed the dried meat into a small, crude, but serviceable pack he had mad
e from the skin of the young doe. He had worked it clean with his knife, carefully removing any traces of remaining flesh and added the brains with a small mixture of water, stirred within a partially hollowed stump, with a fire lit beneath to heat the contents into a fine consistency. The concoction was then rubbed into the hide to keep it as supple as possible. The skin of the legs could be pulled up and tied together to form a pouch. Simetra had been using it as a carrier, fur side turned in, for the baby.

  “What is it?” Simetra asked with fear.

  “There's a storm headed this way.”

  “Can't we ride it out in the lean-to?”

  “Not this one. This one's going to be a mean one.” His tone was grim.

  “How mean?”

  “Bad mean.”

  “What will we do? Where can we go?” she asked, beginning to panic, while wringing her hands together.

  “There's a cave close by. Not the one you were in, but a different one.”

  Hudson slung the pack over his shoulder and scooped Ryder into his other arm. Carrying all they had, he moved off at a swift rate, leaving Simetra to race after him. He led her to a well worn animal path that turned into an overgrown incline, which began to rise sharply upwards. He climbed higher and higher up the side of the steep slope, pebbles and sticks crumbling under him as he now began to fight his way through the unruly foliage.

  Simetra was panting in quick gasps and thanking him inwardly for carrying everything. She was uncertain she would have made it if she had been hefting even the slight weight of the baby. She needed both hands to pull herself ever higher.

  An ominous rumble rippled across the sky, which lit brilliantly with a streak of lightning. The clouds rolled and tumbled in abundance. The rain began right before they entered the safe haven. The sky opened up, dumping what seemed to be buckets over them, drenching them completely in mere seconds.

  The water was freezing, like an unwanted, hard, awakening slap in the face and Simetra panicked over Ryder, worried she might catch pneumonia. She was relieved when Hudson unwrapped the still sleeping baby from under his saturated jacket. The child had, unbelievably, remained warm and dry.