Secrets of the Lynx. Aimee Thurlo

      She pulled it over her. Wrapped in a comfortable cocoon of warmth, Kendra closed her eyes. Without visual cues, she became aware of Paul in a more primal way. She could hear the even sound of his breathing and enjoyed the outdoorsy scent that clung to him.

      Though he was quiet, she heard him get up to stoke the fire. The crackling of the logs and the comfort of the blanket worked a magic all their own and soon she drifted off to sleep.

      Paul smiled, his gaze resting on Kendra. Although he knew no one was out there, he remained seated on the easy chair closest to a window. Taking off the lynx fetish he wore around his neck, he held it in his palm and gazed at it for a moment. Like all of Hosteen Silver’s gifts, the hand-carved wooden artifact was far more complicated than it appeared to be at a glance.

      Lynx was said to be able to peer into the soul of man or beast and see the secrets hidden there. As the owner of the fetish, he knew that gift was his to use, but for many years he’d refused to accept such things were possible.

      Slowly, as his mind had opened to new possibilities, he’d discovered that he could always sense when someone was lying to him, or even holding back. In time, he’d stopped searching for logical explanations and grew to accept his newfound ability.

      The gift had served him well during his days as a U.S. Marshal and continued to do so now, even though he no longer wore the badge. He leaned back and relaxed, confident that the terrain around the house held no secrets from him or Lynx.

      Hearing the rhythmic sound of Kendra’s breathing, he focused on the woman. The blanket had slipped to her waist, and her simple wool sweater, though loose, accentuated her full breasts. Like many women in the marshals service, she did her best to underplay her curves, but thankfully, some things were impossible to hide.

      Kendra was an irresistible blend of toughness and gentleness. She was clearly a fighter who’d refused to back down, even when staring down three gun barrels. Yet, in this unguarded moment, she was the most feminine of women.

      He’d known all types of females and enjoyed their company, but he’d always had one rule. He never stayed with any particular woman for long. Some had accused him of deliberately keeping his heart out of reach, and there was some truth to that. He didn’t trust relationships. Promises made in the night didn’t last when exposed to the light of day.

      He’d only had one relationship that had stood the test of time, the one with his former partner, Judy Whitacre. The reason was plain. Though they’d cared deeply for each other, the job had always come first to both of them. They’d worked together for three years, and although gossip within the ranks had suggested otherwise, they’d never acted on their feelings. They’d both known that crossing that line would have jeopardized their working partnership.

      Paul heard the faint rustling of something moving through the brush outside. Although that type of sound usually indicated the presence of an animal, he’d have to check it out. Seeing Kendra was still sound asleep, he slipped noiselessly out the back door.

       Chapter Three

      Paul moved silently around the outside perimeter of the house, pausing often to listen while searching the trees just beyond.

      He’d made his way to the front corner of the house when he saw the source of the sound.

      Paul smiled as the lynx took a step forward, almost as if in silent greeting. The last time he’d seen his spiritual brother had been during a particularly low point in his life—his rehabilitation process.

      He’d been wandering aimlessly around the canyon during a long, sleepless night, his shoulder a throbbing reminder of the challenges ahead. Anger and pain, his constant companions in those days, had conspired to undermine him at every turn.

      Struggling to find the courage to face what still lay ahead for him, he’d stood alone, waging his solitary battle, when he’d heard the low, throaty growl of the cat. Lingering in the shadows, unwilling to come out into the open, was a lynx.

      In the animal’s caution, one born of fear, he’d seen his own inability to move forward, and realized then that life was all about choices. His days as a U.S. Marshal were over, but he was still very much alive. He could choose to let his injury define him or build a new future for himself.

      Facing the best and worst in himself that night had given him the ability to go on. A few months later, he’d opened his own private investigations firm.

      Tonight, as he looked down at the cat and saw the kill the creature had just made, Paul realized that the animal’s focus was his meal. The moment was all that mattered to him.

      He, too, wanted to live in the present and stop looking to the past. Yet the sound of Judy’s startled gasp as the bullet passed through his shoulder and into her body continued to haunt him. Until her killer was caught, he’d never be able to move on.

      He clutched the lynx fetish in his hand until the wood bit into his skin.

      “Don’t move!” Kendra snapped from right behind him.

      The animal disappeared in an instant. As it always had been, the cat showed himself to no one except him.

      Having recognized Kendra’s voice, he turned around. “Relax—”

      She reacted automatically, raising her gun.

      Instinct kicked in, and he countered without thinking, sweeping her gun hand, twisting her around, and pulling her back against his chest. With her gun hand pinned to her side, he held her steady, his arms locked around her.

      “It’s me,” he repeated, dodging a kick to his instep.

      She relaxed instantly. “Paul? I told you to tell me if you left the house. I thought you were in another room and that someone was tampering with the vehicles—or worse! What the heck are you doing out here?”

      “I came to see an old friend,” he said, noting that she wasn’t trying to break free.

      “Where?” she asked, trying to wriggle out and look around.

      Reluctantly, he let her go, noting she had fit just right against him. “Not a person, an animal.”

      “You feeding the coyotes or something?”

      He shook his head. “No, it’s more complicated than that.”

      She searched the area trying to see what he was talking about, but it was too dark. “Come on, let’s go back inside. I don’t want to stay out here any longer than necessary. This is the best time for a sneak attack.”

      “Yeah. It’ll be dawn soon,” he said, letting her take the lead in the walk back around the house. “Why don’t you get a little more rest?”

      “Can’t. I’m wide awake now.”

      “So, how about a real early breakfast then?” he asked.

      “Thanks, but, no. It’s too early for me to even think of food,” she said, glancing at her watch. It was a little after five. “Unlike my brother, I’m not a big fan of breakfast. But our father, the colonel, used to insist on it. Personally I feel more primed for work if I have a mug of strong coffee and something sweet, like a doughnut.”

      He laughed. “Not much for health food, are you?”

      “Hey, I grab a sandwich at lunch. My anchor is a good dinner, when I’m not on the run.”

      When they stepped back into the house, Paul walked over to his chair and picked up his jacket. “Since we’re both up, why don’t we get an early start and head back?”

      “If we start too early, we’ll have to wake people up. We want them relaxed, not cranky, when we ask for their cooperation,” she said. “Besides, you need to get some rest, too. I need you alert.”

      “I grabbed some shut-eye before you arrived here. I’m not tired, and right now there are some things I need to do, like contact Nick and tell him I