Page 40 of Red Boar's Baby

The house was a total loss. Diana firmly closed the browser window. “Never mind that. What did the SCB say? Any news on Em?”

“No leads on her background, but there are a couple of people from the Seattle bureau flying in this morning,” Costa told her. “One’s a social worker—Nicole Yates. She’s going to help out with getting us a more permanent placement for the kid.”

“Oh,” Diana said. “Yes, of course.” Naturally Emmeline needed a proper foster home. Bouncing her around between working individuals who were unprepared to care for her was unfair.

But somehow, temporarily, she had forgotten. All she could think of was the softness and warmth of Emmeline in her arms, the smell of her crown of baby hair.

She wasn’t sure if Costa was having similar thoughts, but he went silent and pensive for a moment before continuing.

“Anyway, the other visitor is one of their agents who thinks he might know something about the card you and Caine found at the scene. Cat Delgado is picking them up at the airport and driving them out to the ranch.”

“We’re staying here today, then?” Diana asked.

“For now, anyway.” He paused, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. “I also asked for the latest on your house fire. No suspects yet, and the details haven’t been released to the media, but it’s definitely arson.”

Diana genuinely had no idea how to react; her mind was blank. “So I—I was a target.”

“It looks like it. I’m sending an agent over to talk to your paramedic friend and get a thorough description and maybe a sketch of the person who was asking about you.”

Anger—anger was what she was feeling, swelling over her blank shock. “What can I do? I’m not just going to sit here twiddling my thumbs, Quinn.”

“For now, I think the best thing is for both of us to do that,” Costa said. “Not thumb-twiddling exactly, but there’s nothing we can do out there that my people can’t do, and the more we come and go, the more we compromise the ranch as a safehouse. Right now, no one knows where we are—or where Emmeline is.”

The words hit Diana’s righteous indignation like a bucket of cold water. “Of course Em’s safety matters most.” She looked across the room at Costa’s aunts, playing with the baby. “But we can’t just stay here forever, Quinn.”

“I’m not planning on it.” Costa put his hand on her arm, and Diana went still, not wanting him to pull away. His hand was strong, sure—comforting. “Once we get up to speed with our new arrivals, we’ll make a plan, and I promise you itwon’tinvolve sitting here for days. But right now, there’s nothing to be gained by all of us rushing back and forth to and from Tucson except to leave a trail back here.” He ran his thumb up and down her arm. Diana was pretty sure he didn’t know he was doing it. “Unless you want to go back to your house and, uh—see if anything can be salvaged. If you do, I’ll drive you.”

Diana shuddered, and at that movement Costa seemed to realize where his hand was and, to her regret, pulled it hastily away. She could still feel the warmth of his palm lingering on her skin.

“Not right now,” she said. “Later, I guess I’ll have to, but I don’t think I can bear to see it yet. I know that probably sounds weak or—or stupid?—”

“No,” Costa said firmly. His hand hovered near her arm once again, but his eyes were locked on hers, sincere and intense. “Not at all. Nobody would be holding up better than you. That being said,” he added thoughtfully, “I think I’ll have Caine stop by my place and check if there are any signs of forced entry or anyone hanging around. He can come and go without being seen.”

Diana nodded and carefully squashed her urge to ask more questions about Agent Caine. She was going to get the full story out of them, one of these days. “So what do we do now? I’m full of energy and have nothing to do with it. When did you say the Seattle agents are getting here?”

“Not for hours.” Costa got up. “But I have an idea for something to keep us busy while we wait. Let me call Caine, and then—how are you at horseback riding these days?”

Diana found herself smiling for what felt like the first time in ages. “It’s like riding a bike, I hope. You never forget.”

* * *

They went up to the pasture and barn that she had noticed on the way down. The horses greeted them with soft noses, nibbling their fingers and looking for treats, and followed them curiously along the fence as they headed for the barn. There was plenty of tack, saddles, and gear, and they picked up two saddles and went to get the horses ready.

Diana was a little surprised to find how her fingers still knew all the moves from her ranch childhood. She occasionally needed to go on horseback for some of her work, but she wasn’t the one handling the horses; they were provided for her with saddles already on.

So this was a pleasure she had nearly forgotten, the inquisitive nose of the horse nudging at her hands, the satisfaction of tightening straps and adjusting stirrup length. With her long legs, Diana needed to make little adjustment, even though the saddle was set for Costa’s tall clan.

She swung up on the back of her horse, a pretty bay mare that Costa told her was called Rabbit. Costa was still making friends with his horse, a leggy roan gelding named Gold Rush, letting the animal nibble his collar and hair while he rubbed the curving neck and scratched the horses’s forehead.

“We should invite Jessie out here,” Diana said. “She turns into a horse, you know.” Normally it was a bit rude to discuss shifters’ animal types with someone who might not know, or at least it was considered uncouth. But she figured Costa already knew the shift types of everyone who worked for him.

Costa confirmed it with a quick laugh. “She’d probably love it; she shifts at the drop of a hat anyway. You know, I never thought about doing a rural company retreat. We have the company picnics, but ... I should invite some people out here one of these days, you’re right.” He looked thoughtful as he gave Gold Rush one more scratch and mounted up. “I’ve always kept my personal life so separate from work that it never occurred to me.”

“Keeping work and personal lives separate is usually considered a good thing.” Diana felt a twinge; she had separated her personal life so thoroughly that she wondered if she still had one.

“I know,” Costa said, and then, seeming to read her mind in that uncanny way he had, “But I figure it’s possible to make it too much of a thing.” He clucked to his horse. “Let’s go. Do you want to take the lead?”

“Go ahead. You know the trails here better than I do.”

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