Free Rocky Mountain Lawman by Rachel Lee Page B

Most women can’t stand the way I live my life.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because I’m in the woods a lot. Even in the winter. Too much of a free spirit, I guess.”
    “I can understand why you like it out here. I like it, too. If I made enough from my painting, I’d get myself a cabin just like this one and paint full-time.”
    “Yeah?” He seemed to like that. “You wouldn’t go crazy from isolation?”
    “I hardly notice isolation when I’m painting. Maybe that’s one of the things that drove my ex-boyfriend crazy about me. He said I didn’t pay him enough attention.” She resisted mentioning the lousy lover part. “Between my work with veterans, which sometimes drained me, and the times I’d lock myself in my studio endlessly, he felt neglected.”
    Craig tilted his head a little, clearly thinking about it. “The guy sounds selfish to me.”
    “He sounds ordinary,” she argued.
    “Maybe so. I guess I’m strange. I wouldn’t have a problem with any of that, maybe because I’m the same way myself. I occasionally stay in the field for a week or more at a time. Sometimes I get radio calls asking if I’m still alive.”
    Sky felt her mouth tip into a small smile. “For me it was a knock on the door.”
    “Ha!” He slapped a hand lightly on his thigh.
    “But what exactly do you do in terms of law enforcement? Is it dangerous?”
    “Not usually. I run across campers and hikers, check them out, make sure they aren’t headed for trouble, that they’ve got the proper permits if they’re planning to hunt or fish. Sometimes I run across poachers. That’s a little more dangerous.”
    “What in the world do they poach? Elk? Moose?”
    “Some of that, of course, but my biggest headache comes from bears. There’s a demand in Asia for bear parts—paws, claws, gall bladders. Lots of money in it for a poacher.”
    “I never thought of that!”
    “Most people don’t. These types go far beyond someone who kills an elk for food. They can kill dozens of bears on a single trip.”
    “I admit I don’t much like bears. Well, actually I’m afraid of them. But going after them like that is wrong.”
    “Bears will mostly leave people alone if we don’t get in their way. But to go out and kill dozens of them just for small pieces that can bring a lot of money—that goes way beyond killing to eat, or even killing for a single trophy.”
    He gave a slight shake of his head. “Then we have any number of people who, if left to their own devices, would drain every stream and creek of fish. There’s a reason for size and catch limits. We do what we can, but somehow we always wind up having to restock in some places.”
    “What other things do you deal with?”
    “The whole gamut, basically. Right now I’m worried that there isn’t enough water in the stream in the valley where you’re painting. We had enough snow, the spring thaw didn’t start much earlier than usual, so there’s no obvious reason that stream should be running so dry so early. It looks more like late July or early August. That suggests there may be some obstructions causing problems on the feeder creeks. So far nothing.”
    “You have a full plate.”
    “Keeps me busy,” he admitted. “But I like it most of the time.”
    “How much trouble do poachers give you?”
    “Most skedaddle, figuring they can come back. They’re only likely to get angry when I confiscate their booty or equipment, or want to arrest them.”
    “Do you often?”
    “Every now and then, if I have evidence. The ones who really tee me off are those who use traps.”
    “Traps have always struck me as so inhumane.”
    “I agree with you.”
    Relaxing, she was finally able to put the radio aside. The cabin was warming, and she slipped off her jacket. When he fell silent, she guessed he was waiting for her to do her share of talking. She wasn’t quite ready yet, though.
    “So these trappers. They can hurt more than animals, too, right?”
    “They sure can. They