Scarlett Hood & the Hunter Read online

  It was why I was in the forest. The Securities and Exchange Commission knew Wolfe was targeting elderly widows with retirement funds. Hell, I alerted them to that little fact when Wolfe went after my grandmother and our bean crop. Bastard. That’s when the SEC recruited me to track down Wolfe. I possessed the one thing the SEC didn’t have in its arsenal against Wolfe—a local connection to Amāre. I was born and raised in the merry little village, so I could be seen without being seen. It was why I was able to follow Wolfe and go undetected. It was almost too easy. I found him headed to Blue Ox’s house, and I didn’t have to eavesdrop to know the wily one was honing in on his next sizable asset.

  If Blue actually handed over her portfolio to him, Wolfe could feasibly take control of her assets. I can’t let that happen—again. Granted, my work with the SEC required that if Blue turned over her assets, that I get the transaction receipt to add to their case against Wolfe, I just couldn’t see how I could consciously allow Blue to hand over her life’s savings. It’d be the end of everything precious to her. I watched Wolfe mesmerize the young maiden in the forest with tales of saving Blue’s holdings. He doesn’t save people, he destroys them. There had to be a way where I could save the red-headed beauty before me and still destroy Wolfe. But how?

  Chapter Three

  “So your grandmother,” he said. “She sounds like an amazing woman.”

  With a mouthful of Neapolitan cake and a stomach waiting for more, I nodded.

  “I’ve never been very clear on how Wood Hood got started,” he said.

  I began to go into the spiel that I had written for all the Wood Hood marketing materials: local woman does right by lumberjacks, blah, blah, blah, but opted not to. Maybe it was the sugar fusing through my blood or the moonlight that made Mr. Wolfe suddenly seem less threatening. Whatever it was, I found myself telling him about the woman who helped raise me.

  “When my granddaddy died, my Granny went back to work. She didn’t want to sit idle. So Blue hired her, and Granny worked as a cook in the man camp at the lumberyard. Granny would listen to the men’s conversations around the campfire and realized that the reason they weren’t happy wasn’t about money. In fact, they weren’t asking for more money. What the men wanted was something to call their own.” I inhaled the crisp night air. It was clean, fresh, and full of life.

  “So anyway.” I exhaled and felt cake in my stomach and the cool air around me. Together they settled my jumpy nerves. “Granny and Blue thought of ways that they could help the men feel like they had more ownership in their work. And actually it was Granny’s idea to create the cooperative. She strove for everyone to share in the profit of their work. My Granny has the biggest heart.”

  “And because of Wood Hood she’s got the second largest land stake in Amāre,” he said matter-of-factly.

  I shrugged. “Oh, Mr. Wolfe, that seems a bit of a stretch.”

  “Bernie. Please. Mr. Wolfe is my father. I’m simply Bernie.”

  “Well, Bernie, I know my Granny owns land in Amāre, but I don’t know where she stands in numbers or how much land she actually owns. It’s never really been something we’ve talked about. All I know is that she believes in sharing and for everyone’s efforts to count.”

  Bernie’s teeth gleaned. “So the cooperative strives for equality between the workers and the land owners, which in this case is Miss Ox.”

  I nodded. “Yup, Granny and Blue both believed that the lumberjacks and the owners should be treated equally in terms of pay and respect.” I smiled. “I’m really proud of what the women accomplished.”

  Bernie slowly nodded. “It is something.”

  “So what do you do exactly?” I picked up the handkerchief of cake and took another bite.

  “I’m a financial advisor and the owner of Giant Investment Services.”

  “And what do you do there?” The chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla blended sweetly in my mouth. “I mean besides being the owner.”

  He grinned. “Oh, what I do is actually boring compared to your grandmother’s work. I simply help clients invest their savings into long-term securities.”

  “Have you always done that? Invest other people’s money?”

  He threw back his head and howled toward the moon. I think he was laughing, but I wasn’t sure.

  “Well, I began my career investing my own money. I started as a penny stock trader with money I had earned and saved when I peeled logs one summer for Pig Brothers Construction.”

  “Huh. I didn’t know the Pig Brothers built log homes.”

  “They ended up going the brick route, but before that they were a stick and log company. Anyway.” He fanned the air between us, and his musky scent made my nose twitch. “After I invested my money, I secured a loan with my father’s Wall Street firm and set up Giant Investment Services. With the help of my father, who let me into his pack, my firm began trading on the stock exchange.”

  “Sounds fascinating,” I said and meant it. “I can’t imagine the hustle and bustle of Wall Street. Aren’t you nervous? I mean you’re trading someone else’s money, right? What if you lose it all? Then what?”

  “That’s what sets Giant Investment Services apart. Initially we began on the stock exchange, but now we function as a third-market provider. So now we initiate orders from retail brokers.”

  “I have no idea what that means?”

  He howled again. “Many people don’t. It’s complicated. But in a nutshell, we’re one of the largest market makers on the NASDAQ. We invest wisely for our clients and don’t take risks we wouldn’t take with our own money. We grow our clients’ money, and for someone like Miss Ox it provides a sense of security in an unsecure time.”

  When Bernie talked finances his dark eyes glistened and twinkled. There was a hunger to them that couldn’t be ignored. Granny could use a guy like this to oversee her finances. “Sounds like you know what you’re doing.”

  This time when he smiled, his fang teeth flashed. “I’m very good at what I do.”

  I wiped the corners of my mouth with the handkerchief and brushed the crumbs off my gray hoodie. I packed the pink box back into my backpack beside the wine. “You should come with me to my Grandmother’s house. I’d like to introduce you.”

  He licked his lips ravenously and smiled. “I thought you’d never ask. Show me the way.”

  Chapter Four

  Oh, hell no. She is not taking Wolfe to her grandmother’s house. It can’t happen. Nothing good will come from this. It was bad enough that I probably couldn’t save Blue from Wolfe. I knew when the SEC approached me to collect evidence that they needed one more widow and her assets to make a case against Wolfe and Giant Investment Services, but I just didn’t think it would be Bunyan’s widow. I glanced up at the tall, thick sequoias that Bunyan had climbed with a chainsaw effortlessly and easily. I’m sorry, Paul. I promise I’ll make this right—somehow. Bunyan had given me the courage to take the rotten deal I got in a trade and make something good out of it.

  Who knew some stupid beans would sprout into the largest bean crop this side of Idaho? But they did and before Bunyan died he was able to see how I had turned something sour into something sweet. Then Wolfe showed up on my Granny’s doorstep, conned her into signing over her land claim and retirement fund, and that was the end.

  Giant Investment Services seized our land and our crops and claimed Granny signed a “hold harmless” contract that removed their firm from any liability when their supposed investments went south. Granny was now living with that other little old lady and all her kids in a house not much bigger than a shoe.

  It’s just not right. The SEC would mostly have Blue to use against Wolfe. Blue would likely sign over her assets to Wolfe because he was so good at persuading widows that they needed him. But the SEC didn’t need for this red-headed beauty to sacrifice her Granny, too. Not if I can help it.

  I followed behind the red-headed beauty and Wolfe. I was just out of sight, but close enough that I could spring into a
ction if I needed to. Again, I wasn’t sure how much I could do armed with a briefcase, but luck was made from long shots.

  Wolfe was closing in on red and her Granny’s house. Come on, Jack. Think, man, think. I scanned my surroundings. Trees, trees, and more trees. I hid beneath one of the few weeping willows in the entire Dark Forest. Its limbs leaned over and touched the ground. They covered me completely. I reached up and tugged on one of the branches. It was bendable and sturdy. Huh. If Tarzan could do it, I mean how hard could it be? The guy’s in a loincloth. I’ve got on my Dockers. I tucked my briefcase beside the trunk of the tree and grabbed the branch. I walked back and stretched the limb as far as it would go. Yeah, this will totally work. I looked around and found a boulder that was just within stretching distance. I backed up on the boulder and gripped the tree branch until it was taut. I waited until Wolfe and the fair-faced beauty were just within striking distance. I bent down and then popped off the boulder like a rocket. A rush of wind caught me at just the right time, or maybe not. I came through the willow like a human slingshot. Uh-oh. Coming in hot.

  Wolfe seemed to sense me, or perhaps it was the blood-curdling scream that flew out of my mouth when I realized I hadn’t quite figured out what I was going to do if Wolfe did the one thing that I hadn’t factored into my plan: move. He stepped aside just as she looked up. Her eyes were a faint shade of green that seemed to darken as I approached. For certain her beautiful, expressive eyes widened in a mixture of shock and horror.

  “What? Help!” She held up her hands, but it did nothing to cushion the fall that was inevitable.

  I smacked into the red-headed beauty and hard. I landed on top of her and heard something crack. I wasn’t sure if it was her bones or mine. Inches from her face, I gritted a smile. “Hey.”

  “Hey?” Her voice was on the cusp of panic. “Hey!” She pushed against my chest. “Get off me!”

  I leaned over her and stared into eyes that were the color of the sweet, supple moss that covered the forest and grew up the sides of trees. Her eyes were just as soft in color and just as plentiful in their warmth. For a moment neither of us said anything. Her eyes darkened, and I couldn’t tell if the shift in her mood was favorable or not. I decided not to press my luck. My growing attraction to her was already spinning far beyond the scope of what I was there to do. This redhead was not part of the plan. I pushed my palms against the ground to raise myself off her off when I spotted red seep out beneath her.

  “Oh, no!” Crap. “I think you’re hurt. Don’t move!” I held my hand up, and I’m sure my eyes telegraphed all sorts of signals, none of which were favorable, romantic, or enticing. “Whatever you do,” I said calmly. “Don’t move.”

  She turned her head and saw the red liquid pouring out beneath her. “Is that blood?” She looked at me and then back to the seepage. “Is that blood!” She had now moved past panic and had entered hysteria.

  I slowly nodded. “Could be.” I looked around for Wolfe, but suddenly he had disappeared. I may not have been able to see him, but I knew he could be watching from the shadows.

  I knelt down beside her. “Okay, give me a second. Let me think.” But there wasn’t time to think. A constant flow of red gushed out from beneath her. She needed medical attention. I scooped her up in my arms and cradled her against me. When I stood, she gasped.

  “Are you okay?”

  “You’re so strong.” The surprise caught in her voice and shone in her eyes.

  I glanced into a face I could get lost into. “You barely weigh anything.”

  When she smiled, my feet felt lighter, my shoulders felt broader, and every worry I had faded from my mind. She was the only thing that mattered.

  “Where are you taking me?” She looked up at me for answers.

  “To your grandmother’s house. I can assess your injuries there.” Though I knew from how damp my arms were that things weren’t good. I casually looked down at my forearms. They were streaked red. Oh, no. No. No. No. Please don’t die.

  She seemed to read me without having to exchange words. “Am I going to be okay?”

  I picked up my pace, held her closer against my chest for warmth and walked with purpose. “You’re going to be fine. Perfect. Good as new.”

  “Who are you? What’s your name?” she asked.

  I looked down at her. “Jack Hunter.”

  “I’m Scarlett Hood.”

  For a second, I paused. “Mildred Hood?”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s my Granny’s name, and while I was named after her everyone in my family calls me by my middle name—Scarlett.”

  “I know who you are. I just can’t believe it’s you. The last time I saw you, you were zipping around in that furry red jacket and beanie. You rode that John Deere around Pig’s Construction yard like a boss. You and your Granny delivered lumber liked you owned the place. It was hilarious. Everyone on the crew called you ‘little red riding Hood’.”

  Her cheeks tinged with color. “I was in my teens, and I was a bit of a rebel. I haven’t been on a tracker in forever, and I loved that coat. I called it my gumdrop jacket because while you may have only seen red, it had these wonderful spots of color all over it—like gumdrops.”

  I smiled toward her. “Well, Scarlett it’s nice to see you again.”

  She tilted her head, and long red spirals bounced out of her gray hoodie and fell against my arm. “So, Mr. Hunter, do you always fly through the night air and knock out unsuspecting women?”

  I could feel heat rise from my neck up to my ears. “No.” I curtly shook my head. “That was completely a first.”

  When she laughed it was deep, throaty, and sexy. She reached up and gently touched my face. “Thank you for making me laugh when I feel like I’ve just been run over by a truck.”

  “Least I could do. And I prefer to think of myself as a semi.” I looked down at her and grinned. “A very large semi.”

  Her laughter echoed through the Dark Forest as we made our way to her grandmother’s house.

  Chapter Five

  My Granny’s house was lit by a single lantern that hung from the eaves of the wood porch. A slow, steady stream of smoke piped out of the red rock chimney that inched up the side of her house. I breathed a sigh of relief. At least she’s kept the fire going.

  “It’s late. I should have been here hours ago,” I said against Jack’s chest. He held me tightly in his arms as he carefully made his way up the cobblestone path to the front door.

  “Well, I’d rather bring you here in one piece than with that…” His voice trailed off.

  “That what?” I looked around and suddenly realized Bernie Wolfe was not traveling with us. “Where’d he go?”

  “Who?” Now his voice seemed to shift.

  “This man who I was taking to my grandmother’s house. Bernie Wolfe. He was going to help save my grandmother’s finances.”

  Jack stopped just shy of the front door. He looked down at me. There was an intensity in his blue eyes that if I were to photograph I know would tell their own story.

  “Listen,” he said firmly. “I wish my grandmother had never met Bernie Wolfe. He’s an awful beast, and he has no business meeting your grandmother. He lured in Blue. And he was setting you up for a trap.”

  “How do I know you’re not doing the same thing?” My question clearly caught him off guard.

  He stammered, and I held onto him tightly, afraid he might drop me. “I would never steal from someone’s grandmother. Granted,” he said. “I did take a few things from that giant of a man whose house practically sprouted up in the middle of my bean crop, but he had taken plenty from Amāre before his castle popped up on my land. But that’s not the point. I’m nothing like Wolfe. I’m a local guy from Amāre trying to rid our merry little village from men like Wolfe and his pack.”

  “Is that why you crashed into me?”

  “Let’s get inside and see how you’re doing first. Crashing into you was not my intention.” He gingerly reached for the do
or handle. “I was actually aiming for Wolfe.”

  I tried to conceal my chuckle, but I couldn’t. “Well, Mr. Hunter, you have awful aim.”

  “Admittedly, my aim was off,” he sheepishly said. This time when he looked down at me I stared into the dark abyss of his eyes, and just like the aperture of my camera’s lens, his blue eyes absorbed all the energy around him. In his gaze, he seemed to record everything. It felt timeless and beautiful to be lost in his focus.

  “Scarlett, my intentions are pure and completely on target. I only want what’s best for you and your grandmother. I would never intentionally hurt you.”

  As he laid me down on my grandmother’s couch, I knew by his gentle touch and reassuring eyes that there wasn’t another man in Amāre like Jack Hunter.

  ****

  “Well, first off you’re not dying.” Granny was nothing if not pragmatic.

  “But what about all of this…” I cautiously patted my side. “If I’m not dying what is this?” I held my red stained hand toward my grandmother.

  She leaned toward my hand and sniffed. “Merlot? Or maybe it’s a burgundy. Hard to tell with what you kids are drinking these days. It’s some fruity-tutee wine.”

  I leaned my head back against the arm of her couch. “It’s merlot.” I looked up at Jack, whose color had all but drained from his face. “I was bringing wine and dessert to my Granny.” I shrugged. “It’s kind of our thing.”

  “No, our thing is dessert. The foo-foo wine is all yours,” Granny said. “I’m more of a maple shots kind of drinker. Can’t go wrong with something you can get straight from the tree.”

  Jack tentatively nodded, and his strawberry blond hair moved back and forth. “So I didn’t break her? Or any bones?” He looked from Granny to me and then back to Granny.

  Granny shook her shock of gray curls. “No sir, you probably knocked the wind out of her, and Scarlett’s going to be sore from landing on a bottle of wine and breaking it, but no, you did not break my granddaughter. Hoods are built a lot stronger and sturdier than that.”