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Croft
WILD MUSTANG SECURITY FIRM
DELTA JAMES
Chapter
One
Oh, shit! There’s no way I can do this!
Finlay Reid stood, looking over the rim of the Grand Canyon, then back at the impassive face of the appaloosa mule whose reins she held. Having lived in the United States and traveled extensively, she’d seen pictures of the Grand Canyon, but no representation—pictures, video, or paintings—did it justice. Not only was it far more beautiful and majestic than anything she’d ever experienced, but the distance to the great chasm’s floor was far more imposing than she could ever have imagined—beautiful, but terrifying.
What the hell had she gotten herself into? There was no way the kind of riding she’d done all her life had prepared her for this. Galloping her well-schooled Irish Draught through the fields and over natural jumps was no kind of experience for riding some misbegotten hybrid animal down a trail of death.
Steady. Finn reminded herself unless she could get the specified thumb drive to the people who were holding her brother, Christian would be killed.
She’d never been one who suffered from vertigo, but the enormity of what she was about to undertake hit home and made her dizzy. The trail descending the side of the sheer rock cliff leftno margin for error—one wrong move and she would plummet to her death.
Her guide, Billy Crofton, rounded the corner of the horse trailer leading a big, black mule. “Ms. Reid, I’m Croft.”
She turned away from the rim of the canyon and walked toward him with her hand extended. Croft either didn’t see it, or ignored her, as he swung up onto his mount.
“You need to get on Jasper,” he said, barely able to hide his impatience and annoyance.
What the hell did he have to be annoyed about? She was paying his firm a pretty penny for what should be a fairly simple, straightforward job… at least the way she’d explained it. The fact she hadn’t bothered to include the finer details of what was going on was beside the point… wasn’t it?
“I want to be on the floor of the canyon and find a place to set up camp before it gets too dark. You were late getting here,” he continued. “The longer it takes us to pick up some sign of where your brother traveled, the less likely I’ll be able to track him. In the desert, the weather can play hell with any trail left to follow. Before we get started, is there anything else you can tell me?”
“No,” she lied.
Well, maybe not lied so much as left out a few salient points in her depiction of the situation. That wasn’t exactly true either—there were other things she could tell him, she was just choosing not to.
“If you’ve changed your mind,” he drawled, “I can go on without you. Someone else from the firm can come get you and Jasper.”
“No. He’s my brother, I need to be there when we find him.”
Finn gathered up her courage, resiliency, and pride, along with Jasper’s reins, put her foot in the stirrup, and pulled herself into the saddle. It wasn’t her most graceful mount, but it would need to suffice. Normally, the horses she rode had English tack,without the bedroll and other gear attached to the rear of the saddle. She feared swinging her leg that much higher to clear the equipment might seem obscene and threatened to rip her tight jeans.
“You ready?” her erstwhile guide asked. Not waiting for the answer, he turned the large, black mule he was astride toward the trailhead.
Croft would lead them down to the floor of the canyon, close to one of the campsites where her brother had last been reported to have been seen. It was just the two of them riding mules that carried all they should need; they had no pack mule. Croft had assured her everything they needed was strapped behind their saddles. Taking a deep breath and saying a silent prayer she wasn’t about to make a terrible mistake, she cued Jasper to follow.
When Finn had originally decided to try to find her brother, she had talked to Willa McDaniel about guiding her into and through the canyon. Willa was a well-respected adventure guide and was said to know the Grand Canyon like the back of her hand. Unfortunately, Willa had declined, saying she was set to leave on a long-overdue honeymoon and suggested Finn hire her husband’s Wild Mustang Security Firm. If any kind of foul play was involved, Willa had proposed Mac’s firm would in a better position to help than she was since this was the sort of thing they did routinely. Regardless, Mac had assured her the firm had one of the best trackers in the business, who knew the Grand Canyon almost as well as Willa.
Finn looked straight ahead. The narrow trail seemed suspended between a sheer cliff, leading straight back to the top of the canyon on the right and another on the left, descending to the bottom with not so much as a twig to break one’s fall. When Finn made the mistake of looking over the edge, it had been allshe could do not to vomit. Panic seized the lungs in her chest and threatened to stop her heart.
“Mr. Croft?” she called.
“Just Croft,” he said, not unkindly, but not in any way that indicated he had any interest in talking with her or hearing what she had to say.
“Croft. I did a bit of research on your firm.”
“It’s Mac’s firm, I work for him.”
“Right, well, Wild Mustang Security Firm is certainly an interesting name.”
Croft chuckled. “The boss is an interesting man. Ex-special forces and now ex-US Marshal. His last case with the Marshals brought him and Willa back together, and he decided to leave the Marshals and start his own security firm. Outside of Mac, Willa’s greatest passion is mustangs, so he named the company to honor that. Every man who works in the field for him has special forces experience. Anybody working in any capacity is a veteran of some sort.”
