Montana Fire (27 page)

“I know, honey, but I think you should learn.”

Well, damn.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“H
old on tight,” Max said as he started the snowmobile. He only owned one snowmobile
helmet, so he opted to use motorcycle helmets, each of which had a built-in microphone.
If Jamie needed to tell him to slow down, she could.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her chest against his back. The
sensation of closeness seemed to alter something inside him. Everything had changed
once he made love with her. He’d expected Jamie to be tentative, conservative, and
a bit naïve. Boy, had he been wrong. Jamie had more passion that anyone he’d ever
been with. She was uninhibited, and her level of trust had been the ultimate stimulation.
A woman like Jamie could alter a man’s thinking—permanently.

He just had to make sure not to forget why they were there. Jamie’s life was at stake,
and he needed to protect her. They’d been lucky Hank hadn’t sounded the alarm last
night, though if he had, Max would have been ready. He’d trained himself to be a light
sleeper.

He couldn’t wait to show Jamie around the property. However, because she’d never been
on a snowmobile before, he needed to take it slow. That worked for him, because part
of his mission was to check for footprints. The second part was to teach her how to
shoot a rifle. He didn’t expect them to be a situation that required her to defend
herself, but on the off-chance they did, he wanted her to be prepared.

Max started the ride off easy since there were many trees close to his house. Once
he drove past the property line, there was a big field where they could have some
fun. It was also a good spot to shoot a rifle, as no one lived behind him.

“How are you doing?” he asked as he decelerated.

“Good. This is fun.” She tightened her grip around his waist.

Once she confirmed she was enjoying the adventure, Max revved the engine and raced
down a hill. Jamie let out a little squeal, but she didn’t sound scared. When Max
didn’t spot any evidence that anyone had been there today, exhilaration shot through
him. He circled the property once before bringing her to the area where they could
practice.

He pulled to a stop. “Lesson time.”

“Do we have to?” While her words sounded like a complaint, there was a lot of happiness
in her tone, too.

“Only if you want to stay alive, missy.” He tried for as much pep as he could muster.

She lightly punched his back. “Way to bring me back to reality.”

He laughed. “Hop off.” Once she dismounted, he did the same. With his Glock secure
in his shoulder holster, he grabbed the rifle case, along with some targets.

He kept his hand on her back as they trudged over to a spot he often used for practice.
Placing the empty tin can on a stump about thirty feet away, he had her stand behind
a lone tree.

“Let me show you how to load the shotgun, how to cock it, and how to aim. We’ll start
with how to load one shell.” With care, he demonstrated how to port load the shell
by placing it in the chamber. “I won’t run the action forward because I want you to
do it. The key here is to remember to keep the metal end facing you.”

She bit her bottom lip and looked adorable. “Okay, but move behind me so I don’t accidentally
shoot you.”

He chuckled, but followed her request. Jamie managed to load the rifle on the first
try.

“Perfect. In a moment, I’ll show you how to use the magazine to load multiple shots.
Stand behind the tree like so, and use the edge to keep the gun steady. The tree will
protect you in case there is a shootout.” She winced, but he didn’t know of a way
to sugarcoat it.

“I guess I should learn, though I’m betting we’ll be in a car or by a building if
we’re attacked.”

“That would be my guess.” He was happy she was willing to give this a go, despite
not wanting anything to do with guns. He handed her earplugs. Rifle shots were loud.
Max enjoyed standing behind her. He wrapped his arms around her outstretched ones.
“In a standoff, the key is to keep shooting. Doesn’t really matter if you hit anything.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He’d be the one to do the damage. He was trained. Jamie was not. Civilians
might never live down a kill.

“Okay.”

Once he adjusted her stance, he bent down to help her aim for the can. He didn’t expect
her to hit it, but having something to shoot at was helpful. “Now pull the trigger
when you’re ready.”

Wanting Jamie to fully experience her first trigger pull, Max stepped back. She shot,
but the can remained unharmed. She lowered the weapon and turned around. “Aw. I want
to go again.”

He grinned. The competitive Jamie had come to play.

*     *     *

By the time they returned to the cabin, Jamie’s hands were frozen and her ears were
ringing from the report. It didn’t matter she’d worn ear protection. The rifle had
been freaking loud. Learning to shoot had been frustrating, but with Max’s help, she’d
actually hit the can once. Knowing this exercise could save her life someday helped
with having to handle a weapon.

Max put the snowmobile back in the shed, and then escorted her inside. “That was fun,”
he said. “Hope you had a good time.”

“I did. I loved riding around. The landscape here is fantastic.” The town of Rock
Hard had been mostly cleared for the buildings. She wished they’d left more trees.

Max washed his hands. “I’m starving. What are we having?”

She laughed. “You’re putting me in charge?”

“You said you wanted to help.”

“You got me there.” The normalcy of her day had done wonders for her attitude. While
on the back of the snowmobile, she’d pretended she was on vacation and not in hiding.

Max headed toward the bedroom. Since Jamie had put the groceries away, she was able
to find the bread and sandwich meat. “Ham and cheese sandwiches with tomato soup good?”
She had to shout so he could hear her down the hall.

Max returned to the living room a few seconds later. “Perfect. I’ll stoke the fire.”

This cabin living was growing on her, though she knew not to get too comfortable.
They were a phone call away from total danger. Max had asked her to pack one of her
two suitcases with enough clothes to get along for a few days. He said they’d each
keep a bag in their new ride. That way if Hank called, she could grab a few essential
items and go.

“Don’t forget to call Hank with your number. We want him to be able to contact us.”

He chuckled. “Already did that when I brought around the snowmobile.” He shoved more
logs in the stove and closed the metal door.

The man was good. Now that she had a phone, she should call Sasha to see how her friend
was holding up. Jamie also wanted to find out about the funeral arrangements for Yolanda.
She wasn’t sure Max would let her attend, but she wanted to find out when it was.
In all honesty, Jamie didn’t think it would be wise to go either. While she doubted
the terrorists would attack her in a church full of people, they could follow her
afterwards. Stupid men. If they would just tell her what they wanted, she could assure
them she didn’t have it.

Max moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He squeezed, and then
let go. “You did great today.” His words were colored with surprise.

She twisted to face him, making sure not to dislodge his welcomed embrace. “Did you
think I’d freak or something?”

He shrugged. “It’s all part of the learning process of me understanding you. I don’t
think any of us know exactly how we’ll react in a given situation until it happens.
Triggers can occur at any time. While I’ve witnessed a dozen or more blazes since
my house burned and haven’t
freaked
, as you would say, the next one might send me over the edge.”

She lowered her gaze as his words sunk in. “I hope that won’t happen to me. It was
probably good for me to see what it would be like to handle a gun. If someone shoots
at me, I want to know I won’t freeze.” Max grinned at her comment. “What’s up with
the smile?”

“I think you’re a remarkable woman. Resilient, trusting, and loving.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

When Max lowered his arms, Jamie waved the butter. “You want to spread this on the
bread?”

“Can do.”

Max had asked her to learn how to shoot, claiming he wanted to learn more about how
she’d react when the gun went off. She, too, wanted to discover everything about him.
This pressure cooker they were in could cause unexpected reactions. She hoped she
didn’t fold. “Can I ask you something?”

Max removed a frying pan from the cabinet and placed it on the stove. “Sure.”

“You asked why I became a hospice nurse. I’d like to ask you the same thing.”

“I never studied medicine, honey, at least not in the same way you did,” he said with
a straight face.

“Funny man.” Of all the men she’d met, she never thought Max Gruden would be the one
with a sense of humor. “You told me why you went into law enforcement, but I’d like
to learn why you left.”

“You mean why did I become obsessed with finding the man who set fire to my house
that killed my wife and young son?”

Ouch
. His pain sliced through her at the nerve she’d hit. “Sorry. It’s okay if you don’t
want to talk about it.”

He blew out a long breath. “No. You should know where I’m coming from. It’s part of
who I am. If there was one thing I learned from these last eleven years, it was that
obsessions are bad. They can take over your life and put everyone else at a lower
priority.”

She busied herself with finding the can opener for the soup. “I so get that. I feel
terrible I haven’t spent enough time with my friends.” She twisted around and leaned
against the counter. “Benny’s betrayal forced me to change who I was. I thought after
those men chased me at the clinic, I’d figured out how to take back some control.
Now I’m not so sure.”

“It takes time. Trust me. I know.” Once he finished preparing the bread, he grabbed
the packages of meat and cheese and opened them. “As for shutting out your friends,
it’s easy to be blind to what’s important in your life, especially when you want something
badly enough.”

Max must be talking about himself. Before she met him, the only thing she’d ever wanted
badly enough, was to help others. “Want to tell me about your quest for retribution?”

He gripped the knife and pressed his lips together. He probably was deciding if he
wanted to spill the beans.

“I was on a task force to bring down this drug cartel headed by Santori Anderson—a
very bad man. We’d received some intel about a warehouse full of drugs, and when the
six of us went in, all but one of the dealers scattered.”

“Santori Anderson?”

“You got it. He spotted me, took aim, and shot.” Max tapped his leg. “Shattered my
femur.” She hissed. “I was able to get off a round before I almost passed out. That
one bullet hit him in the side of his head, and ended up blinding him in his eye.”

She refused to feel sorry for the dealer. “I thought Amber said he got away.”

“He did. Long story short, while he was recovering in hiding, he hired a man by the
name of Warren Dominguez to torch my house to pay me back for ruining his life.”

“Anderson was a drug dealer and he shot you first. What did he expect the cops to
do? Shake his hand?”

He graced her with a small smile. “Apparently, his sense of right and wrong wasn’t
as strong as ours.” He placed the buttered bread of each sandwich face down on the
skillet.

She didn’t ask about his child dying or the torment he went through when he learned
of his family’s death. She honestly couldn’t imagine something that intolerable. Even
what she’d recently gone through paled compared to the pain he must have experienced.
It was why she trusted him with her emotions. “Why leave the force? Why not look for
the man yourself?”

“I didn’t leave right away. After a two-year search, we captured Santori Anderson,
but he wouldn’t reveal the name of the arsonist. I stayed for another year, spending
countless hours tracking down clues, and eventually the case went cold. But I couldn’t
let it go. I figured the only way to find the bastard was to learn about his other
fires. Arsonists usually have a certain signature.”