10
SHE JUST MIGHT BE THE MOST SELFISH PERSON SHE KNEW. Shae watched Ned ease over to the stove and hide a wince as he leaned over and put another log inside.
All she could think about were his words “I’m going to try to be a SEAL.” And how they’d turned her cold. He’d seen right through her pitiful attempt to act like it didn’t matter, saying that she was behind him, thrilled for him—and with every word, biting back a tiny wail.
Shae couldn’t love another man who could die. Sure, he’d told her this summer that he’d thought about being a SEAL, but . . . oh, why hadn’t she taken him seriously? He had such an amazing life on the farm, she’d thought—maybe hoped—he was just dreaming. She didn’t know why being a SEAL seemed so much worse than being a smokejumper. Statistically, smokejumping was one of the most dangerous jobs in the world. Next to bomb disposal. And perhaps Alaskan crab fisherman.
But those jobs weren’t designed to put a man in front of a bullet.
And with that thought, she had the image of Dante leaping at Sheriff Blackburn, to the background noise of her scream.
“Shae?” Ned’s warm hand slid onto her arm and brought her back from the abyss. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll go for help—”
“No!” She grabbed his hand, ignoring the flash of pain that cycled through her. Since Jess had removed the wadded shirt and eased the belt, the pain had flattened out and spread through Shae’s stomach, the sharp edge blunted. At least now she could breathe a mostly full lungful. “Please, stay here.”
He crouched next to her, caressed her cheek, then pushed her hair away from her face. “Shh. I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”
Now she wasn’t just selfish but a coward because of course someone needed to go for help. And probably sooner than later. “I’m sorry. I’m just . . .”
“Scared. And hurt. I get it.”
“No, that’s not it.” She eased herself up.
“Stop, Shae. Don’t move, you’ll hurt yourself.”
“Oh, believe me, I’ve been perfecting that move for about five years, and look where that’s got us.”
He frowned at her.
“Don’t you see—all my hiding, all my trying to protect the people I love, and here you are, wounded—”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. I know you think it’s no big deal to be shot in the butt, but it is. It’s a gunshot wound, and I happen to know that you’re in tremendous pain, Ned.”
His mouth tightened. “It’s no big deal.”
“Because you refuse to be the weak link.”
His face didn’t move.
“Well, me too—but I am, and I hate it. I hate that Blackburn has been haunting me for five years, that he’s so in my brain that I can’t close my eyes without seeing him pinning Dante, beating him to death. I only really started sleeping through the night about two years ago, and even then, I still jump when someone comes up on me too fast. I live with the ghost of Blackburn in my shadow, and now he’s finally found me. Us. And the last thing I want you to do is go outside so he can hunt you down and kill you too!”
Ned just stared at her. “I’ll be fine.”
“Maybe. Even if you are . . . then . . .” She closed her eyes. “Then you leave for the military, and the nightmares start all over again.”
She hadn’t wanted to say that, but she was tired and raw and it just sort of spilled out.
Ned said nothing for so long, she finally dared to look at him.
His mouth had turned to a grim line. “That’s what the weirdness was back there on the river. You’re afraid I’m going to get killed.”
She met his eyes. “Dante wanted to be a soldier. And he died protecting me. I realize that it’s a little different when you’re in the military, saving the world, but . . . but it feels the same. I’ll still lose you.”
They hadn’t quite taken steps that far into their relationship, but yeah, there it was. “I . . . I care about you, Ned.”
He looked away. Closed his eyes, as if in pain.
Please, tell me I’m not reading this wrong—
“I’m in love with you, Shae.”
He looked at her, those brown eyes holding hers, so much emotion in them she couldn’t move. “I know it’s fast, but I probably fell in love with you this summer, and I just can’t . . . I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re so amazing. Brave and sweet and—”
“I am not brave.” The retort just rose up, spurted out. “I’m the furthest thing from brave. I’m a coward!”
He recoiled. “You’re not a coward, Shae.”
“Blackburn was beating my boyfriend to death and I ran. I ran. I didn’t pick up a rock and try to defend him. I didn’t run back up the trail to get Uncle Ian. I ran away into the forest and hid. Until Dante stopped screaming. Until I saw Blackburn get up, blood on his face and hands, and throw the boy I loved into the river. And then I kept running.” Her eyes burned. “I haven’t stopped.”
“Uh, yes, you have. That’s why you came back to Montana, isn’t it? To testify against Blackburn?”
She gave a laugh that had nothing of humor in it. “I’m still a coward. I can’t even bring myself to testify against Blackburn. I talked to Ella about it, but . . . I’m just so tired. And . . . I don’t know how to fight back. I just want to be safe.”
“We all want to be safe, Shae. That’s normal.”
“Not you. You jump out of airplanes into fire. You want to be a navy SEAL.”
“Yeah, but I still want to live doing it. Trust me, I’m going to do everything I can to be safe.”
She blinked at him. “You are?”
“Of course. I don’t have a death wish.”
He didn’t? And somehow those words seeded inside her, found root. Still, “Then why the SEALs?”
He considered her, saying nothing for a long time. Then, “Well, maybe it’s because I’m a coward too.”
Right. Her disbelief must have played on her face because his brows rose.
“No. Really. Every time I stood at that open door of my jump plane, a pack on my back, smoke and flame curling up from an inferno below, I thought, What are you doing, Ned? Have you lost your mind? For the briefest of seconds, just a millisecond, I panicked. A full-out, mouth-drying scream gathered deep inside me. My hands sweated inside my gloves, my gut dropped. I was terrified.”
“What—”
“And it’s then I remembered Fraser. And what he taught me about fear, and bullies.”
“Bullies?”
“Yeah. See, we’re not so much afraid of bullies as we are of getting hurt and what it will cost us. That’s what produces fear—the cost. And not being sure we can handle it.”
“Oh, I was bullied until about the fourth grade.”
Now he was just teasing her. “Right.”
“No, I promise. I was bone skinny. And small. I was easy pickin’s for this kid named Kostia. He looked like he’d skipped a couple grades and was pretty angry all the time. He made it his personal goal to scare me. It worked. I was terrified to go anywhere he could find me.”
She saw him then, scared, with big brown eyes trying not to cry, and everything inside her burned.
“One day, Kostia had me pinned up to the chain-link fence, and a couple of his buddies were kicking me, and my brother Fraser just appeared. He was fifteen, and I’ll never forget the look in his eyes.”
“Anger?”
“Disappointment. Just a flash of it, but it felt like a blow to my gut. Fraser chased Kostia away, but that night he confronted me. He said I was letting this kid have power over me. But that I wasn’t powerless.
“I had no idea what he was talking about because I felt pretty powerless. Fraser said that I could either be a victim or I could fight back and respect myself. See, I’d always been taught that violence was bad. That I should walk away—and yes, that is the best option. But sometimes you can’t—especially when the fear or the bullies keep coming after you. He said fear had its own power, and the more I did nothing, the greater my fear would grow. Everybody is afraid . . . but I had to remember two things. First, if I wanted to be free, then I had to stop letting fear win. I had to stop being a victim and fight back with everything inside me.”
“And second?”
“That God never intended me to fight my battles alone. That’s why he gave me family.”
“What did you do?”
“I stood up to Kostia the next time he came after me. And got whupped . . . but I refused to stay down. And he realized he couldn’t bully me anymore.”
“Fraser is a SEAL, isn’t he?”
Ned nodded.
“Did you join because you want to be like him?”
“No. I joined because I want to see what I can do when I don’t let fear get in the way. I’d like to impress my family, yes.” Ned sighed. “But the truth is, I’d really like to impress myself.” His mouth tugged up one side, a little rueful.
She touched his face. “I could love you too, Ned Marshall. So please don’t die on me.”
Then, because more than anything she wanted to be brave and let go of the safe thing, she moved her grip to the front of his shirt. Tugged.
His grin was sweet and tentative, and he surrendered. Bracing his hand on the sofa above her, he leaned in to move his mouth a breath away from hers. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Then he kissed her. His touch was so tender, as if he feared hurting her, and she simply relaxed, breathing him in, letting his mouth soothe, heal, comfort. He didn’t try to deepen the kiss, nothing of the ardor he’d showed at the reception. Instead, he lingered, showing her the truth of his words.
Not going anywhere.
She could almost believe him.
The door closed, and Ned jerked away.
Jess had come in. She carried firewood and kindling in her arms, and dropped it on the pile. Then she pressed her hand to the wall, as if to brace herself.
“Are you okay?” Ned said. He gave a little grunt as he rose.
“I found something,” Jess said quietly. “I think I know who this cabin belongs to.”
“That’s awesome. Maybe we’ll get some help,” he said.
“Uh . . . I don’t think so.” Jess glanced at Shae, then back at Ned.
The way she looked at them sent ice through Shae. “You’re freaking me out, Jess.”
Jess knelt and pulled out a water-warped magazine from her pile of kindling. “I found about fifteen of these in the wood bin.” She handed the magazine to Ned.
“Sports Illustrated?” he said, unrolling it. “May 2013 edition.”
“Read the back. The mailing label.”
As he flipped it over, as he read the words, and as his eyes widened, Jess followed up with her suspicion. “I think this cabin belongs to Sheriff Randy Blackburn.”
“Okay, I admit I screwed up.” The words took nearly a half hour to work themselves free of the tangle of anger, shame, and yes, heartbreak that lined Pete’s chest.
They had come to the river, halted there under a freezing drizzle, the soft, easy patter of rain on pine trees and poplar dying out, leaving behind a fog that lay like doom over the forest.
Just like the cold mist forming in Pete’s gut at Felipe’s words.
“It doesn’t matter, Peter. She’s already gone.”
Maybe. Yes, probably, given the fact that Jess had turned and walked away from Pete at the barn, not looking back.
How could he blame her, really? Because he might not have cheated on her, not completely, on New Year’s Eve, but he had a past that made him flinch. Would make any woman walk away.
If he were honest, he’d wanted to cheat that night.
Was still pretty shocked that he hadn’t. But he wasn’t going to let Felipe get away with blaming him for something he hadn’t done. So, “Yeah, I was with someone else on New Year’s Eve. But it wasn’t what you—and more importantly, Jess—thinks. I didn’t . . .” Aw, this felt a little too much like a teenaged girls’ confess-all slumber party.
Felipe probably agreed because he turned in his saddle, wearing incredulity on his face. “In what fantasy of yours do you think I want to hear any of this? I couldn’t care a whit about what you’ve done with your time since you broke up with Selene—”
“I didn’t break up with her!”
Felipe sighed. “Semantics. Since you let her go. Which, by the way, you haven’t.”
“I can’t!” There it was, the bold, brutal truth. “Don’t you think I want to? The thought of her . . . and you . . .” Pete hands tightened into fists. “Listen, I’ve tried. And that’s the problem. I can’t, okay?”
Felipe shook his head, and if Pete hadn’t looked away, he figured he’d also see an eye roll. Because in Felipe’s shoes, he’d be doing the same thing. But he couldn’t seem to stop this run of his mouth. “I haven’t been the same since I met Jess. She somehow made me feel like I wasn’t a complete mess.” He couldn’t look at Felipe. “I guess I figured that if a woman like Jess could love me . . .”
Oh brother. Now, even he wanted to give an eye roll. He reeled himself in, found a safer explanation. “Listen. I get it. I’ve never seen myself as the marrying kind anyway, so . . . not that Jess is better off with you, but—”
“She is,” Felipe said, with no emotion.
“What is your problem?”
Felipe rounded in the saddle. “You’re my problem. You—” He drew in a breath, his voice shaking. “You’re always there. Between us. Haunting us. I need you gone, Brooks. Or . . .”
Oh. Heaven help him, inside Pete there was a tiny man doing a fist pump. “Or she’ll never be yours?”
Felipe’s eyes narrowed. “She’s already mine.”
The words slapped him. Breathe. Just breathe. Pete swallowed and somehow found his footing. He didn’t want to imagine what Felipe meant, so he shut out the literal and focused on the metaphorical sense of Felipe’s words. Already mine.
“Fine.” Okay. “But you have to be straight with me, bro. Do you love her? Because I saw the way you looked at that woman at the horse race, the brunette, and . . . well, I’m not blind, and neither is Jess. Is there something going on between you two?”
That got a response. Something raw and stricken flashed in Felipe’s eyes a second before he shook his head, the anger returning. “No. Of course not.”
“Of course not?” Pete snapped, urging his horse forward and grasping Felipe’s reins. “Hold up there, pal. Who was she?”
“Kindly let go of my mount,” Felipe said, but Pete shook his head. Beside them, the river roared.
“You can lie to me, and Jess, and even yourself all you want, but I know what it looks like when you can’t stop thinking about someone, when they fill up all the space in your head, and what it looks like when you are trying very, very hard not to grab ahold of them and never let go.”
Felipe just sat there, looking away, his jaw tight.
How the French drove him crazy with their pride.
“‘Selene and I care very much for each other.’ That’s what you said. Not ‘I’m crazy about Selene, I can’t live without her. She’s my everything.’” Pete’s throat thickened as the words took root. “You didn’t say you loved her, because you’re in love with someone else, aren’t you?”
“Selene knows how I feel about her,” Felipe said, reaching over to snag his reins.
Pete’s grip was unmoving. “I’m sure she does, but fill me in. Because here’s the deal.” He leaned over, lowered his voice. “I am crazy about Jess. I can’t live without her. She is my everything, so if you step out on her, if you hurt her—”
“Fine. Yes. It’s all a lie.” Felipe yanked the reins away and his mount danced back. He reached out to calm the horse, a hand on his withers. Pete noticed that it shook.
“What’s all a lie?”
“The whole thing—it’s a pitiful ruse. Or at least it started that way . . .”
Pete blinked at him.
Felipe turned his horse to head downstream. And maybe his exit was a good thing, because Jess’s words were starting to latch on. “I’m not engaged.”
“What are you talking about?” Pete managed to stay on Lulu, to follow Felipe, but the world seemed like it might be tilting.
Felipe reined in his horse. Beside him the river was a frothy, loud, and dangerous roil of gray-brown water. When he looked at Pete, Felipe appeared tired, a little wrung out and even lost. “It was a ruse. A convenient lie to keep her mother happy.”
Pete had nothing. Just the rushing of the river, the ping of droplets from the overhanging trees down the collar of his jacket to accompany the frozen stillness inside.
Felipe gave him a look of annoyance. “Her mother is dying, Peter. Has a fatal disease, and she told Selene that nothing would make her happier than if Selene and I got married. So, we got engaged.” He lifted a shoulder.
Like no big deal that Pete’s life had been completely dismantled for a lie. “That’s what she was calling to explain on New Year’s Eve . . .”
“Yes, you idiot,” Felipe snapped. His mouth tightened to a dark, unmovable line. “But now . . .”
Now. Pete didn’t think it was possible for him to go colder.
“Well, things have changed. Her mother is pressing for a wedding date and . . .” Felipe looked away from Pete, and his voice changed. “We’re a good match. Our families have been friends for ages, and with her circumstances, she needs someone who can protect her from scandal. And I . . .” He swallowed. “She’s a good partner for me.”
Pete just stared at him, his words clicking, finding root. Just like Aimee had been a good partner? “Oh my gosh. Jess is the replacement.”
Felipe frowned, his mouth tightening.
“You don’t love her.”
“I love her enough.”
No, no, he should not tackle the man, pummel him, finish what they started at Jess’s house.
“Because you do love someone else more.”
Felipe had the decency not to deny it.
“And you’re calling me the ghost between you? Are you kidding me?” But a tiny flame had sparked inside Pete’s chest. Felipe hadn’t seen a haunting like the one Pete would give him if he actually went through with this sham of a marriage. “Who is it? Does Jess know?”
Felipe gave him a look of exasperation. “Indeed, she knows. It’s just . . . she has accepted it.”
“Accepted—what kind of crazy world do you two live in that . . . why would Jess even consider this?”
Felipe looked up, his eyes clear. “Because she is not Jess but Selene. And that’s my point, Peter. She knows what is best for everyone, including you. You will never fit into her world, and she doesn’t belong in yours.”
“She belongs with me, whatever world we live in.”
Felipe just gave him a sad shake of his head. “I will give her a good life, pay for her education, and she’ll become an amazing doctor. I will be her husband. You will be, well, the wild fling.”
Pete just blinked at him. “We’ll see about that.”
Felipe met his eyes, so much calm in them Pete had to look away, across the river to the rim of trees, anywhere to corral the darkness, to keep himself from—“Hey, over there. Do you see that?” Upstream, about twenty yards, under a shaggy pine tree, broken branches lay on the ground, a sort of carpet under the arms of the longer boughs.
As if someone had tried to create a shelter.
“I see it,” Felipe said. He moved his horse toward the river, found a crossing place.
Pete followed Felipe’s exact path, because he might be furious, but he wasn’t stupid. He tried not to clutch his saddle horn like a terrified eight-year-old as they mucked through the water, the river splashing up to soak him even more.
By the time he caught up to Felipe and dismounted, Felipe was already on the ground, heading over to the copse.
Yes, someone had been here—more than one person by the look of the displaced rocks and at least one footprint. Pete knelt, examined the boughs. Ran his fingers along the wetness glistening on the branches. “Blood.”
“There’s more here,” Felipe said, not far away. He pointed to a splatter of blood on the rock.
Pete grabbed his walkie. “Search 2, Brooks, come in.”
He met Felipe’s gaze.
Ty’s voice came over the radio. “Search 1, Search 2, go ahead.”
“We made it to the river and found some blood, maybe a shelter. Anything on your end?”
“No. We’re . . . half mile from the crow’s nest . . . diverting. Kacey . . . spotted a truck . . . switchbacks . . . going . . . check it out.”
Pete tried not to let the fact that Kacey had reported in to Ty, not him, put a fist in his gut. Maybe the craggy peaks had cut out the line of communications.
Still, it wasn’t like he was in charge. No, this time he was just one of the desperate searchers.
Was sort of beginning to hate it. “How far?”
Northeast from where? “We’re going to stay on the river. Check in when you find it.”
“Confirmed.”
Felipe had already climbed onto his horse and held the reins of Pete’s mount in his hand. Pete took them from him, got on Lulu.
A shot rent the air and ripped through the hazy mist.
Skewering Pete in the heart.
“Did you hear that?” Felipe said.
Pete was already past him, gripping the saddle horn shamelessly as he spurred his horse down the shoreline.
The sound—sharp and crisp and deadly—ricocheted off the low-hanging, pellet-gray clouds and right into Jess’s bones.
Biting at the fragile hold she had on hope.
Ned had thrown the magazine into the stove, and it flamed to life. The cabin had turned cozy over the last hour—at least the temperature. Because the speculation of who this cabin might belong to had turned them all cold.
Jess stood at the window, staring out the grimy pane to the overcast and soggy yard. Maybe fifty feet of cleared property around the house to the tree line. She’d been standing sentry for the better part of an hour.
Just listening to the voices. The ones in her head that simply wouldn’t stop talking. Send Ned for help. Barricade the door and hope that the PEAK team might be searching for them. Hike out together. Go for help herself—which seemed like the most reasonable option.
Too many choices, and all of them could get somebody hurt.
“Did you hear that?” Ned stood up from where he was kneeling next to Shae.
Jess nodded.
Ned came over to her. “That was a gunshot.”
“I know. I know.” She scrubbed her hands down her face and turned to him. “Listen, I don’t know, okay? Maybe that wasn’t him. Maybe it was the hunters who shot you—”
“If it was a hunter who shot me,” Ned said. He’d seemed to rally in the last hour. Just getting a can of beans and some heat into his bones had seemed to fortify him. “It could have been Blackburn, and he’s tracked us back here.”
“Except, why the shot?”
Ned peered out the window. “I don’t see anything.” He turned back to her. “But I’m not letting him have another chance at killing Shae.” He moved past Jess toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To get the ax I assume you chopped wood with.”
“It’s in the woodshed. But Ned—” She put a hand on his arm.
“I’ll be back.” He met her eyes a moment before he headed outside. Solid brown, a resolve in his gaze. The former pain in his eyes seemed flushed away, as if by kissing Shae he’d found a new inner strength.
Yeah, Jess had seen their kiss as she’d come into the cabin earlier. After she’d dropped the wood, she’d turned away to give them privacy, aching a little. Because she’d give just about anything to have Pete here, to have him to lean against, to feel his hands in hers, or better, tightening around her hair as he kissed her. He had a way of making her believe that they could live through nearly anything. Fire. Grizzly attack. Hurricane.
Funny that she didn’t connect those feelings to Felipe, because he’d been a hero to her too. Mostly.
But Felipe never really made her feel like he’d scale cliffs and drive through fire because of his love for her. And she didn’t blame him. She wasn’t his first choice either.
He loved Gabrielle Martinique. She had to give Felipe credit—he’d kept his cool at the charity event last week when she showed up, carrying his heart in her soft hands.
Jess knew it all, and her heart bled for him a bit.
It only took overhearing the conversation with his father shortly after Pete had left her in Paris to know the truth. She’d come out of her mother’s bedroom after checking on her when low voices halted her. Soft whispering out of the library. But with enough edge to the male tones for her to slow, right there in the hallway, not wanting to walk past the open door.
Then, frankly, she couldn’t move.
“It’s absolutely out of the question, Felipe. Gabrielle is your brother’s ex-fiancée. How will it look if you chase after her?”
“Adrien broke up with Gabrielle two years ago. He’s dating someone else. I think it’s clear they don’t belong together—”
“And neither do you, with her. It smacks of scandal, and the last thing this family needs is more scandal. Especially now that you’ve picked up with Selene Taggert again.”
“Father, I promise you, Gabrielle didn’t love Adrien, and he didn’t love her. It’s not a scandal—it’s just truth. I think she should be applauded for her courage to break it off.”
“Which should tell you something, Felipe. There seems to be a pattern here with you. You find women who can’t seem to keep their promises.”
Jess had winced at that, for Felipe, for her. For all the promises she’d made and broken.
“Gabrielle has a different future now, Felipe, as do you. Settle for what you have, the life that has come back to you. Do not throw away what is good for something that could break your heart. Let Gabrielle go.”
A pause, as if he were considering it. Then, poor Felipe voiced her exact thoughts. “It would be just as easy to stop breathing, but thank you for that life lesson, Father.”
Admittedly, his tone shocked her. She’d never seen that kind of emotion from him. Then, Felipe’s footsteps came too quickly for her to retreat, and he’d caught her in the hall, a rabbit, frozen by his startled gaze.
He must have seen the truth on her face, because he took her hand and led her into an adjoining vacant bedroom. She stood in the shadows, and her heart broke for him as he pressed the door closed quietly.
He walked away from her and stood at the window, his shoulders rising and falling.
“Felipe, I . . .” She’d been about to tell him about Pete. About the engagement, about the fact that she so didn’t want to hurt Felipe.
“I’m sorry you heard that.” Felipe turned, and she ached at the glistening in his eyes, the way he didn’t blink anything back. His gaze found hers. “Gabrielle and I . . . we . . . well, I’m so sorry, Selene. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”
“You two dated while I was in Montana.”
He nodded. Ran a hand hard across his cheek. “Well, although she dated Adrien, it was me who she studied with. And rode with and . . . she’s a rare woman. It was foolish, probably, but I always thought that Gabrielle and Adrien had broken up because they realized that they didn’t love each other. That she wanted me.”
He looked away, shook his head, a wry smile edging up one side of his face. “She makes me feel like I won.” He gave a chuckle that had nothing to do with humor. “It seems I am, rather, the big loser because Gabrielle told me today that she is being courted by the Viscount of Wessex, a Brit who is interested in buying stock in our stables.”
So that was what today’s conversation had been about. Her heart wept for Felipe.
“You still love her.”
He lifted a shoulder, nodded. “I am afraid I will never be able to extinguish the love I have for her. But my father is probably correct. It looks unseemly to run after Gabrielle after . . .”
“This isn’t the Victorian age, Felipe. If you love her—”
“I’m not sure she loves me.” He lifted his gaze. “So, there you have it. I’ve given my heart to a woman who doesn’t want it, but I am helpless to get it back. I’m so sorry, Selene. It should have belonged to you.”
She came over to him. He was propped against the window ledge, and she stepped close and drew him to herself. Held him. “It did, once.”
His arms circled around her. “Yes, it did.”
“Settle for what you have. Do not throw away what is good for something that could break your heart.”
She didn’t know how those words had taken root, but perhaps that was exactly how she ended up on New Year’s Eve, agreeing to Felipe’s suggestion that they marry. No, pretend to be engaged to marry, at least until she could find a way to tell her mother the truth. A truth that became more and more distant with every day of silence until she simply held on to a fantasy of what she wanted.
Just like Felipe was still holding on, despite his words otherwise.
She saw the way he looked at Gabrielle, even last week.
“I love you enough.”
Jess stood at the window, watching for Ned, remembering Felipe’s words.
No, it wasn’t enough, for either of them. But maybe it was too late for anything else.
Shuffling sounded on the porch and she spotted Ned carrying the one-sided camping ax. She opened the door, then closed it behind him, wishing they’d hadn’t destroyed the lock when they broke in. Maybe they should find a way to barricade it.
Ned set the ax down on the floor, sweating just a little, as if he’d run. But her gaze couldn’t move off the tool-slash-weapon.
“What are you going to do with that?”
It took him a minute because he seemed to struggle to process her question. “If he comes in, I’m going to hit him with it.”
“Hit him? What—chop his arm off?”
“If I have to, yeah.”
“Have you lost your mind? This isn’t a Texas Chainsaw Massacre movie. This is real life. You don’t just . . . chop someone up.”
“I’m not going to chop him up, I’m going to defend us. There’s a man out there who is trying to kill us. Hello. It’s time we defend ourselves, don’t you think?”
Yes, but . . . “Do we have to kill him?”
“I’m not going to kill anybody. But Sheriff Blackburn killed Shae’s friend Dante. And has been haunting her for five years. I think we need to get serious.”
Jess noticed he hadn’t called Dante Shae’s boyfriend, but it wasn’t anything to squabble about. “We can be serious without killing him. Or chopping his arm off. Let’s just . . . subdue him.”
“With what? Hot cocoa and a song?” Ned picked up the ax and walked over to the door, then stood behind it. “He comes in, I’m hitting him.”
“Not with the sharp end—”
“Fine. Yes. Okay. But I’m hitting him hard enough to take out his knees or break a leg or something to keep him from following us when we take off into the woods.”
“We can’t leave, Ned. Shae can’t be moved.”
“Fine. You stay, I’ll go.”
“It’s dark, you’ll never find your way—”
Even she could hear her own stupidity, the foolishness of her argument ringing in her ears.
“What is your problem, Jess? We have to do something—we can’t just stay here and wait to be killed!”
“I just . . .” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m scared, okay?” She looked up. “I just want . . .” To be rescued. For everyone to live.
For Pete to show up and tell her that it wasn’t too late.
And, okay, that kind of thinking wouldn’t get them out of this cabin alive, so, “I want everyone to live through this. Including Blackburn, who should be brought to justice.”
Ned held up one hand. “Okay, me too. Good idea. So, after we hit him, what’s next?”
But they never got past “what’s next” because footsteps on the porch steeled them silent. Jess cast a look at Shae, who lay on the sofa, so much terror in her eyes Jess thought she might scream. She shook her head, trying to put enough “it’ll be okay” into her gaze to keep Shae silent.
Ned stepped back, raised the ax.
A thump, and the handle moved. Jess stepped back, her breath catching. The door eased open, as if the visitor expected trouble.
She held her breath.
He was sopping wet, wearing a blue rain slicker with the hood pulled up, a wool hat, boots, and—
Ned came at him fast, with a shout and an explosion of fury that erupted a scream from Jess. The man turned, and with instincts she knew he possessed, leapt out of the way of Ned’s blow, with the ax landing soundly in the wood floor.
Pete rounded hard and—maybe without thinking, Jess had to give him that—shoved Ned away, separating him from the weapon.
Ned bounced back like he hadn’t been shot and came at Pete swinging.
Pete caught his fist and pushed Ned up hard, back to the wall. “It’s me, man! It’s me!”
It’s me.
Jess couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.
Until Pete turned. He looked at her with such overwhelming relief in his blue eyes that she couldn’t stop herself. She launched herself into his arms, a near full-body tackle.
He took a step for balance, then caught her up. “Jess!” His entire body trembled. “Oh, thank God, Jess.”
His voice cracked, his breathing rough as he set her down. “I was so worried.”
Ned had moved away from the door, and when Pete let her go, she found herself with her back to the wall. He cupped her face with his cold hands, a grip that told her that he was trying not to unravel. But the look in his eyes said otherwise. He wore a hint of a beard, probably two days of golden-red scratch, and the redness in his eyes might be from the wind and rain, but she suspected otherwise.
Especially when he simply leaned down and kissed her. A full-out, push-her-to-the-wall, don’t-let-her-go kiss that had her reeling. And running her hands into his jacket to grip it tight, pull her to himself.
Pete.
The past two days dropped away, and she was back in Paris, or in New York, or even caught in the beauty of Glacier National Park, lost in Pete’s embrace, the taste of him, the smell of the woods on his skin, an urgency in his touch that swept through her, took possession.
This man. She wanted this man, forever and ever, and she made a tiny sound in the back of her throat of longing and pain and desperation.
I love you, Pete. I choose you.
Almost as if her thoughts had stung him, he tore away from her, breathing hard. “I—sorry. I—”
But she had her hands fisted in his jacket, not letting go. “No, I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry.”
Maybe it was her tone. The quiet pleading that just rushed out of her, raw and honest. But he didn’t tear away from her, didn’t grab her hands to break her hold, just braced his arms on either side of her head, touching his forehead to hers.
Then he closed his eyes, his breathing rough. “You’re safe. That’s all that matters. That’s all.”
Not “I love you, Jess.” Her heart fell. Especially with her lips still on fire, her entire body rushing with the longing to pull him back against herself. Needing the solidness and power of his arms wrapped around her.
He finally stepped away, looking at the others in the room.
Who stood quietly, staring at them. First at Jess. Then at Pete.
Then . . . what? “Felipe? What are you doing here?”
The hurt that crashed across his face told her exactly why he had trekked across the nation and through the woods to find her in this tucked-away cabin.
“I love you enough.”
“I was worried.” He offered a quick and tight smile, then he pulled her into his arms. “I was so worried, ma chérie.” He was wet and held her like he’d never held her before, tight, his body trembling. Maybe he did love her. He put her away, and his eyes were thick with moisture. “Let’s get you all home, and then . . . we can talk.”
About how she had practically inhaled Pete? How she still wanted to leap into his arms? Yeah, that would be a fun conversation. But it wasn’t as if Felipe didn’t know how she felt.
However, by the look in Pete’s eyes as she glanced at him, maybe Pete wasn’t so sure. Because there was a kiss borne of stress and relief . . . and then there were promises and commitments and broken hearts and . . .
“We need to get out of here,” Ned said, coming to life from wherever he’d gathered himself after nearly killing Pete. His words brought them all back to the very real fact that the next person through the door could be murderer Randy Blackburn.
And it was.