"Kill me?" Shane asked, his mind muddled by the question. The very thought was too much for him to take in. "Why?"
"Have you angered anyone lately?" The woman pushed her auburn hair away from her face and poked at the fire.
When he didn't say anything, she turned from the blaze and faced him.
"I run a company," he said, "so I suppose there are people who aren't too happy with some of my decisions. But to murder me?" He shook his head once and instantly realized his mistake when the room swirled before him. He closed his eyes and waited for the room to stop spinning, then asked, "Why do you say that?"
"What kind of business do you run?"
"Digital Drive, Inc."
Tess whistled. "A company? DDI is a big corporation, so I would say you could have definitely made some people unhappy. DDI is way ahead of its competition, and that might not set well with some of them."
His company was number one in its area, but there were three others not that far behind. He rubbed his forehead, wishing he could massage the pounding away as he tried to wrap his mind around the fact someone might have deliberately shot him and left him for dead. The realization escalated the hammering against his skull. When he reconnected visually with Tess, concern dulled her vibrant green eyes.
"You don't have to play Superman for my benefit. I do know a gunshot wound hurts as does a concussion."
He blinked. "You sound like you've had personal experience."
"I was shot once and have suffered two concussions."
"You!"
"I got in the way of a bullet meant for someone else, but in my line of work, that can be a hazard of the job."
"What do you do?"
"I work for a security agency in Dallas. I'm a bodyguard—usually for people who don't want to call attention to the fact they need one. I have protected female clients, but guarding children is my specialty."
He looked her up and down, noting her small frame, and couldn't believe what she'd just said. She wasn't what most men would consider a beauty, but her mass of reddish brown hair that she had tamed enough to put into a ponytail and her crystal clear eyes that spoke of her straightforwardness were appealing. "I've never met a bodyguard."
"Not that I want a job, but you might need the services of one when you get back to Phoenix." She backhanded a wispy curl from her face. Her creamy complexion was dotted with a few freckles across the bridge of her nose.
"So you think someone is trying to murder me?"
"Yes." Tess swung toward the fireplace and removed the iron pot from the hook. "Mmm. This actually smells good, but then I haven't eaten much today."
The scent of chicken noodle soup spiced the air, laced with an earthy odor, but its aroma—or more likely the fact that he might have someone trying to kill him—roiled his stomach. "I'm not very hungry."
She ladled some liquid into another tin cup while steam wafted toward the ceiling. "Try to get some down. You need your strength. My uncle isn't supposed to join me for several days, and either you'll have to hike down the mountain with me or I'll have to leave you alone for most of the day to get you some help."
"I vote for the second option."
When she smiled at him, the warmth of it reached into the ice he'd packed around his heart years ago. He looked away, but she approached, and her steps eroded more than distance between them. "I agree, but I don't want to leave you alone until I know you can make it without me around." She sat cross-legged near him on the floor while he lay on the sleeping bag. "And I want to check out the area for your—hunters. You wouldn't want them paying you a visit here."
The more he thought about it the more he had to acknowledge Tess was probably right about someone wanting him dead. Although he didn't remember exactly what happened, it was unlikely a hunter had pulled the trigger. He'd rather be cautious than ignore her warnings and be murdered.
So who knew he was going hiking in the mountains? It had been a sudden decision. At work his executive assistant, Diane Flood, was the only one he'd told. She'd been with him from the beginning. It couldn't have been her. But perhaps she'd told someone. His whereabouts wasn't a state secret. Plus, he usually came to this area of wilderness when he wanted to be alone, and a lot of people knew that. And even if someone hadn't known where he was going, it would've been easy to follow him. It wasn't like he'd been looking for a tail.
And what was he even thinking, worried about having been tailed? This wasn't his life.
Which brought him back to the question: who wanted him dead? A few rivals popped into his mind. His business could be cutthroat at times, but would any of them resort to murdering the competition? He pictured two of them, Anthony Revell and Mark Collins. Anthony's main offices were in Phoenix. Mark worked out of Los Angeles but often visited his offices in Phoenix. He hadn't made an offer to merge with the company Shane wanted in order to expand DDI's share of the market, but Shane wouldn't be surprised if he did. Neither Anthony nor Mark wanted Shane to succeed with the merger with Virtual Technologies.
"I'm going to lift you up." Tess's husky voice pierced his thoughts. "That way you can drink your soup."
The softness of her touch belied the very idea she protected people for a living. A warm flush infused his face at her nearness. Ever since his wife had died four years ago, he'd kept his distance from women, wanting nothing to do with a casual relationship, while they had thrown themselves at him. They'd seen an unattached rich man, ripe for the picking. He was thankful that his work had given him the direction he'd needed at a terrible time in his life.
While Tess supported his back, he took the cup and tried to bring it to his lips. His arms trembled so much she reached around and stabilized his hands by covering them with hers. Her warmth against them sucked the breath from his lungs until he determinedly shut down his reaction to her.
I'm just grateful, tired and weak. She saved my life. That's all there is. All? He scuffed at the direction of his thoughts. This was a big deal. He made it a point not to depend on anyone. However now, he had no choice but to depend on Tess Miller.
If she hadn't been holding the cup, too, he would have dropped it and scalded himself. Frustration burned a hole into his gut. "I should be able to feed myself," he muttered and let her lift the tin cup to his lips.
"And you will as soon as you get your strength back. This will help."
After several cautious sips, Shane sagged back against her completely, but she still supported his weight. Exhaustion hovered at the edges of his mind, tugging at him. "I appreciate...what you've done for me."
"You're welcome. More?"
He gave a slight nod and drank the soup, the warm liquid sliding down his throat as his eyelids closed. "I think...that's all."
Sleep descended quickly and whisked him into the blackness.
#
After Tess finished eating her own soup, she strode outside with her binoculars and both weapons. Nothing he'd told her had calmed the alarm bells going off in her mind. She didn't like unsolved gunshot wounds, and she couldn't shake the feeling someone was out there watching them waiting for the right moment. But all she saw were oaks, junipers and pinion pines blanketing the landscape, their scent hanging on the light breeze that blew wisps of her hair about her face.
She'd learned in her line of work to be cautious and slightly paranoid. She circled the cabin and the small area where it perched on a cliff at one end of a high country ridge then headed back to the cabin. The sun behind her started its descent toward the horizon. When she reached the door, the hairs on her nape tingled. Again, the feeling of being watched crawled up her spine. She swept one last look over the landscape before going inside.
With a glance toward the sleeping Shane, she quickly crossed the room and withdrew extra ammunition from the locked cabinet and stuffed it into her jeans pocket. If someone were out there, she would be ready for him. After talking with Shane, she had no doubt she needed to carry both of her weapons at all times.
There had been a time when she'd been passive, waiting for life to happen around her. Not anymore, thanks to Uncle Jack. She no longer ran from life or any type of situation, whether dangerous or not.
"Going hunting?"
She whirled around at the sound of Shane's voice, the shotgun grasped in front of her like a shield. "No."
"Then why that?" His gaze veered to the gun, a frown wrinkling his forehead. "Is there some kind of trouble outside?"
I think we're being watched. "Just getting prepared."
"Because you think someone's after me?"
She nodded, seeing the realization in his eyes. "And I think you see the possibility now, too."
"I want to believe it was a careless hunter, but I just can't any longer. Don't you think they're long gone by now? I did go over a cliff when I was shot."
"What if the shooter had been where he couldn't get to you easily? You said it was late when it happened yesterday. Maybe he came back to make sure you were dead. Maybe he followed your trail. It was easy enough for me to find which direction you came from."
"I guess that's a possibility. DDI is close to introducing a revolutionary microchip as well as merging with another company. Let's just say a couple of my competitors would like to beat me to the punch and stop me from strengthening my position in the marketplace."
"How did you find this cabin?"
"I saw smoke. I followed it." He shifted in the sleeping bag and winced.
If he did, so could the person after him, even if some of the rocky terrain obscured Shane's path part of the way. "Do you want some more pain medicine?"
"No, but I could use a drink of water."
She poured some into the tin cup and gave it to him. His hand shook as he drank, but she let him do it by himself. She sensed he needed to feel he could do it himself.
"Thanks." He again adjusted his body, trying to make himself more comfortable on the hard floor.
"I think it's safe enough to move you to the cot if we take it slow and easy." Tess took the cup from him and set it on the table next to the shotgun.
He glanced at the cot a few feet away against the wall. "I'm in your hands."
Tess didn't respond. What she wanted to tell him was that she wasn't responsible for him or anybody. And yet, she was, and there was no way she could deny it.
She positioned herself behind him, squatted and locked her arms around his chest. "Okay. On the count of three help me as much as you can. One. Two. Three."
Aware of the gunshot wound, she carefully hoisted him from the floor. A groan escaped his lips. When he stood, she supported his weight while he slung his arm over her shoulder. She clasped him from his left side so he wouldn't use that leg.
When he lay on the bunk, he trembled. She covered him with an extra blanket that Uncle Jack kept at the cabin. But before she could straighten and step away from Shane, he captured her wrist and held her close in a surprisingly tight clasp for someone in such a weakened state.
"Thanks. I've been saying that a lot lately, but I would have probably died if you hadn't been here."
Again, wanting to deny his words, she looked at his face and saw red tinting his cheeks. Listening to him panting after that small exertion, she knew he wouldn't be walking out of the mountains anytime soon. "It was nothing," she finally said and pulled away, his grasp loosening immediately.
He let go of her wrist. "Nothing? I could argue that with you, but it would take too much effort."
"I'm doing what has to be done. Anyone would have."
"Perhaps." His slate gray gaze fused with hers. "Do you always have such a hard time accepting a compliment?" He swiped away the beads of sweat on his forehead, his arm thumping against the canvas of the cot as it dropped back to his side.
"I couldn't let you die." She put a few feet between them. She needed to think of this man as a client, someone to protect. Or a criminal evading the police or other criminals. She only had his word that he was who he said he was. She didn't know what Shane Burkhart looked like. Either way, she needed to don her professional façade.
"Don't shortchange yourself, and I'll ignore the fact you didn't answer my question." He licked his lips. "Can I have some more water?"
When she scooped some out of the container, she noticed she was running low. She frowned as she stared at the few inches of water left in the pot.
"What's wrong, Tess?"
When he said her name, it felt almost like a caress, and her heartbeat accelerated. She quickly squashed any kind of reaction to his smoky timbre. "I'll need to go get some more water at the spring. I think we have enough for this evening, but first thing tomorrow morning, we'll need more."
When she gave him the cup, his fingers, warm against her skin, brushed over hers and sent goose bumps zipping up her arm. She quickly withdrew a few feet.
He downed the liquid. "I never drink this much water." He lost his grasp of the empty cup, and it clanged against the floor.
"Obviously, your body needs it." She stooped to pick the cup up. Her gaze connected to his for a moment before his eyelids closed. He seemed to be fighting to stay awake.
When she studied his face, she glimpsed the paleness beneath the flush to his cheeks. She neared him and grazed her fingertips across his forehead. His skin was on fire, and she snatched her hand back, fear taking hold.
He had a fever, a complication she had hoped to avoid. But she realized that had been a pipe dream. When she'd cleaned his wounds, they'd been filled with dirt matted in the blood around the edges as well as embedded in the injuries.
With a glance at the container of water on the table, she sighed and grabbed her shotgun and flashlight then the handle on the plastic jug. She had to go to the spring. She needed to get water now.
She gave him one quick look, then left, heading behind the cabin and down the slope. The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees as dusk settled over the landscape. She needed to hurry. Even with a flashlight, it wasn't safe traversing out here in the dark. The uneven terrain and sheer cliffs heightened the danger she felt. This far from civilization, there were bears and mountain lions. And most likely a murderer.
At the spring, she clicked on her flashlight to illuminate the path back to the cabin, dark from the overhanging branches of the trees around the area. She quickly scooped up enough water to fill the plastic gallon jug, twisted the cap on tight, and then turned to make her way back. Her foot caught on a rock, and she fell onto her knees. Pain shot up her legs from the hard impact with the ground. She took two breaths and tried to exhale her fear.
She started to push herself to a standing position but stopped when her gaze locked onto a couple of cigarette butts—two to be exact—near the base of a large bush next to the spring. She picked one up and scrutinized it. From the looks of it, the butt hadn't been there long. It certainly hadn't been there yesterday when she'd come for water. The implication escalated her concern they weren't alone.
Using her flashlight, she studied the ground and noticed the footprints. Hiking boots. Only one person. That thought should've relieved her, but it didn't. She knew the damage one person could do to another.
She stepped behind a large bush and looked back at Uncle Jack's cabin. She could see part of the front door. The vegetation was trampled here. The perfect place to stand if someone wanted to watch the door without being seen. Another three cigarette butts lay in the dust near her feet.
Clutching the shotgun in one hand and the water container and flashlight in the other, Tess hurried toward the cabin a hundred yards away. Her heart pounded against her ribcage with each step she took. Someone had been watching her and the cabin. She'd checked the spring out earlier but from the rise twenty yards away. He'd probably hidden behind the bush, out of sight of her survey.
But when she'd circled the cabin earlier and checked hiding places, he hadn't been there. Had he retreated? Come after that? She'd been armed. Maybe that had scared him off—for the time being.
I won't be caught off guard again. On her job she'd always listened to her intuition. She should have scoured the area more closely until she'd found the intruder, but she hadn't wanted to wander too far from the cabin in case her patient had needed her. Now she didn't know where the assailant was, and she'd be busy and distracted fighting to save Shane's life.
As she approached the door, all her instincts were on high alert. She scanned the terrain one last time before opening the door. At least she could engage the deadbolt tonight while she tried to keep Shane alive.
Just inside the entrance, she froze. She dropped the jug and flashlight, raised the shotgun, and aimed.