He reached inside another coat pocket and pulled out a flashlight, flicking it on. He aimed the light at Toren’s face.
In the glow, I could see the guy frown.
“I know you. Toren McCrae.”
He swung the light toward me.
“But not you. You’re a pretty thing. What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“None of your business,” Toren growled.
“Don’t be like that. I’m just being friendly.” The man flashed a quick, mirthless grin.
“Well, don’t.” Toren took my hand again.
The man chuckled. “You don’t want me to be unfriendly.” The smile on his face abruptly vanished.
I recoiled, clutching at Toren’s hand again at the cold, dead look in the man’s eyes.
“What’s your name?” he asked me again.
“Lana,” I said, just above a whisper.
“Thank you.” He turned to Toren again. “Didn’t know you were dating anyone. Word is you swore off women after your wife died.”
I visibly jerked at the man’s comment. Wife? Toren had been married?
The man’s low chuckle filled the tent. “You didn’t tell your new lady friend about your dead wife?”
“How do you know about Cara?”
There was a dangerous note to Toren’s voice, giving it an edge. I was happy he wasn’t directing that tone at me. It promised consequences.
“The hunting world—especially among the guides—isn’t a big one. People talk. Especially when a man such as yourself picks up everything and moves eight hundred miles.”
“You’re not a guide. I’d know. Because you’re right, it is a small world.”
“No, I’m not. But it pays for me to know who is.”
“Well, it’s only fair you return the favor, then. What’s your name?” Toren raised an eyebrow in question.
The man clucked his tongue. “You can call me Deke.”
“That’s not your real name, is it?” I asked. I’d be shocked if he gave us his name. Not with the attitude he had.
Deke lifted a shoulder. “Close enough.” With that, his expression closed off. Giving the light a quick flick, he glanced around the tent.
It paused on Toren’s rifle. “Oh, well, we can’t leave that there.”
Toren’s hand tightened around mine. I could feel the restraint holding his muscles taut. All he wanted to do was lunge for it, but the handgun Deke kept aimed at us left him with little option except to comply.
Deke shifted onto his knees, shuffling over to grab the rifle. Setting his light down, he picked up the gun, giving it a quick onceover. “Nice.” He turned to glance at Toren. “But probably not your best, am I right?”
Toren’s gaze stayed steady as he glared at Deke and said nothing.
Giving a low chuckle at Toren’s silence, Deke turned, heading back to the ruined tent flap. Once there he set the rifle outside, then gestured to Toren. “Get up.”
“Why?”
