Smiling to himself, he thought back to the first time he saw her after he’d left for college. He’d stopped by the local elementary school on some errand for his mom, and he’d spotted Caila out on the playground. Her pale blonde hair had been braided with pastel blue ribbons tied at the ends and she’d been sitting all alone crying. A wave of nostalgia overtook him as he remembered scooping her up into his arms and taking her inside. She couldn’t have been more than seven or eight-years-old, and her tear-stained cheeks were flushed with embarrassment because he’d seen her crying. Her knee had been bleeding and her dress torn from a fall she’d taken from one of the pieces of playground equipment.
It had been the first time he’d called her Calamity, and she’d looked up at him, her big blue eyes clearing of their tears, indignation taking their place. “I’m not a clam, Sage. Clams live in the ocean. Montana doesn’t have an ocean.”
“You’re right, sweetie, no oceans in Montana. But I called you
Calamity
, that means you’ve had an accident, well, it means you seem to have a lot of accidents.”
“My daddy says I have them cuz I’m too venturous.” No doubt her dad was trying to rein in her adventurous spirit, but something about the little mischief-maker made Sage doubt the local vet was going to have much luck.
“Well, I’m sure your daddy knows best, but if you ask me, being adventurous is a good thing. Think about how boring life would be without adventures.” Sage chuckled to himself, remembering all the times that simple statement had come back to haunt him. For years, she’d justified her “adventures” by telling anyone who’d listen, Sage Morgan told her
adventures were good for her life
.
That adventurous spirit had landed Caila in a truckload of trouble over the years. Her mom had told him once she’d worried her daughter was trying to break the Morgan’s record for the most emergency room visits. One summer, she’d fallen out of a tree behind their house and broken her ankle. It had been a fluke of luck, Colt was home between rodeos and saw a blur of pink tumble to the ground. When he’d found out her dad was in town, Colt had carried her to his truck and driven her to the hospital himself. Doc Cooper arrived a few minutes later, but Colt stayed until her leg had been set and the cast in place. Sage knew his brother had told her he wanted to be the first to sign the pretty pink cast, but everyone knew how worried he’d been about her.
Tapping in a quick message asking her to please keep an eye out for strangers in the area, he wondered where the hell the years had gone. He now had three beautiful little girls of his own, and he was scared to death they’d be as “adventurous” as Caila had been.
God dammit, I’ll probably end up personally funding that damned addition to the hospital Ryan is pushing for.
He’d replaced all of the floor to ceiling windows in his office and the master bedroom with impact resistant glass when Coral had been in danger. And, even though he appreciated the added security, he had to admit he missed the soothing sounds of the outdoors he’d grown up hearing. Sliding open one of the heavy panes, he closed his eyes and savored the brisk breeze.
The last days of Indian Summer were always among his favorites despite the fact it meant winter was just around the corner. The few songbirds who stuck around to brave the harsh winter would be spoiled with an abundance of seed compliments of his soft-hearted wife. He often teased her that he’d purchased the local hardware store to get a discount on the bags of seed she put out in an ever increasing number of bird feeders scattered around the ranch.
The breeze washed over him, cooled by the mountain behind the house. Grateful for the sound of the pine trees dancing in the sunshine, he wondered if they were enjoying one last celebration before the heavy burden of the coming winter snows. The sound of his office door opening caught his attention, but before he could turn to see who’d entered, another sound caught his attention.
What the fuck was that?
P
hoenix finally narrowed
down the list of people who’d had previously unexposed secrets when he’d done their background searches, and only one of those had yet to be located. He and Mitch had come to Sage’s office to tell him what they’d discovered, but an unmistakable sound greeted them before they’d even gotten through the door. “What the fuck? Was that a rifle shot?” Mitch hadn’t even bothered to answer Phoenix’s question, before running out the door of Sage’s office.
The crack of a Caila’s hunting rifle wasn’t an unfamiliar sound, but the pop that proceeded it reminded Phoenix of a small firecracker. What the hell was she doing setting off fireworks in the woods? Just what they needed was a damned forest fire. He could see Mitch talking on his phone as he sprinted to the spot where the trail emerged from the trees and wondered who he’d called. For long seconds he was frozen in place, the reality of the situation slowly sinking in until the possibilities began to overwhelm him.
He heard Sage curse as he spoke on the phone and then felt his brother dragging him by the arm out the door. “Come on.” Before they’d made their way to the barn, one of their side-by-sides roared out of the barn and turned to the mountain. Kip’s face was a mask of fierce anger as he roared up the other end of the trail. “Fucking kid, we’re going to have a serious discussion about priorities. Caila isn’t the one in trouble.”
They’d finally gotten to the other small four-wheel drive utility vehicle the ranch hands used because it served a multitude of uses, the thing was battered, but mechanically it was top notch. Phoenix held on as Sage drove the small side-by-side as fast as it would go over the rough terrain. He had to shout to be heard over the roar of the engine and the wind rushing past them, “Who’s in trouble?”
“Aspen.” Perhaps he’d been in denial—his mind refusing to process what was happening, but it all crystallized at that moment. It made perfect sense, Caila’s rifle shot was in response to the first shot from what was probably a hand gun. The only thing anyone would
hunt
on the mountain with a hand gun was another person. Sage’s one-word answer felt like a kick to the chest and he almost fell when his hand slipped from the roll-bar. As fast as they were going, they still hadn’t caught up with Mitch. Hell, the man was damned fast, Phoenix would give him that. Sage must have been thinking the same thing because he muttered, “Ames is a fast fucker; I’ll say that for him. And he was dialing the phone as he cleared the hedge behind the porch. None of us has ever been able to clear that thing. He went over it while dialing a phone like it was nothing. Fucking humbling, I tell you.”
Sage wasn’t ordinarily prone to chit-chat, so the fact he was making the effort to shout idle nonsense told Phoenix how worried he was. The only question was—what was he worried about? Aspen or the fact Phoenix was only holding on to his sanity by a thin thread. Fucking hell, it had taken him over a year to track her down, and now he could lose her after only spending one night together.
What the hell kind of justice is that?
Hearing the unmistakable
crack of a long-range rifle on the heels of the pop of a handgun as they entered Sage’s office sent Mitch out the back door and over the hedge without pausing to answer Phoenix’s question. He knew Aspen had to be nearing the end of the trail, and since the first gunshot came from his left, that was the direction he headed. He was already on the phone with Brandt before his feet hit the ground. The operative inside him knew it was important to get local law enforcement headed this way as soon as possible. He wanted to get EMS headed this way and Brandt need to seal the perimeter as quickly as possible.
If Phoenix was right about the perp, they were dealing with a man with access to a plethora of military grade equipment. If Barry Orman was planning to use Aspen in a plan against Phoenix, then he was planning to abduct her. Thinking about Aspen being exposed to the things he’d seen victims endure was Mitch’s worst nightmare. The Morgans might know this mountain like the back of their hands, but Brandt and Ryan were the only ones trained to deal with a hostage rescue, and Mitch worried the three of them wouldn’t be enough to get Aspen out safely.
The only sound he could hear was the pounding of his feet and his racing heart as he sprinted up the lower slope of the mountain. He was grateful the Wests insisted their team keep in top physical condition because he was barely breathing hard by the time he crossed into the trees. The sound of a motor tearing across the other side of the slope assured him the others were on their way.
The air under the cover of the forest was much cooler, and his first thought was how grateful he was because cooler air would slow bleeding. Somehow, he’d managed to shift from lover to operative, and Mitch was thankful for the emotional distance. He’d make better decisions if he didn’t focus on the fact he was trying to rescue the woman who’d stolen his heart. Pulling out the weapon he’d tucked into the back of his jeans when they’d gone to find Sage, Mitch crouched and placed his steps silently on the leaf-covered earth.
Pausing every few feet to listen, Mitch was making slow progress when he heard another motor coming up the slope. Whoever was driving wasn’t wasting any time, and he hoped like hell they had the good sense to stay outside the tree line, but he expected them to come in like gangbusters. The next time he stopped, Mitch heard the murmur of a man’s voice, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying.
Before he took another step, he pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a quick text to Phoenix warning him to stay as quiet as possible. He’d learned over the years, giving your armed enemy audio-confirmation of your location inevitably ended with them shooting at you. Suspecting they were already dealing with at least one victim, Mitch didn’t see any reason to add to the list.
Before he took the next step Mitch froze, the distinctive sound of a woman cursing a blue-streak filled the air. Leaning a hand against a nearby tree, Mitch took a steadying breath. Christ, he was actually dizzy with relief at the sound of her voice. “I’m getting fucking tired of getting shot, you know. It hurts. People always say their bodies go numb with shock, but that’s a crock of shit. It fucking hurts I tell you.” He heard a thump followed by a low moan and would have bet his inheritance that Aspen had just kicked the man who’d shot her.
“Shut up, you pansy ass. You shot me, and Caila shot you, all’s fair in love and war, you ass hat. The only reason she didn’t splatter your brains all over the forest was because she liked my outfit. I’ll bet she’s a great shot, and she left you alive so I could kick the ever-loving shit out of you.” Two loud thumps were followed by another deep moan.
Mitch was inching his way toward her, but since he didn’t know whether or not she’d disarmed her assailant, he wasn’t particularly inclined to startle her—another easy way he’d discovered a person could make themselves a target. “Don’t even think about running, you idiot. You’ll be lucky if you don’t bleed to death before the ambulance arrives. And the closest doctor is a vet…and she’s the one who shot you, so I wouldn’t hold out much hope for help from that corner if I were you.”
Smiling to himself, he knew she was chattering like a magpie to keep the fear at bay, but the adrenaline surging through her system was already beginning to fade, and he knew from experience she was about to crash. “
Cher
, it’s Mitch. I’m going to come around the corner in five seconds. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t shoot me.”
Stepping into her line of sight, he felt his knees shake until they threatened to buckle out from under him. Aspen was leaning against a tree holding a small handgun with her left hand while cupping her left shoulder with her right. Blood covered her shirt, and her shorts were quickly becoming saturated. She was bleeding far more than she would have with a simple flesh wound.
Her eyes were wide and the palest green he’d ever seen; the wild look reflected in them told him Aspen knew she was badly hurt. He knew then, the act had been more about staying conscious than managing her fear. “Drop the weapon,
cher
. I’ve got you.” She let the gun drop from her hand and collapsed into his arms.
The thump-thump of an incoming chopper was a welcome sound, and as soon as he stepped back onto the trail with Aspen cradled against his chest, Sage rushed past him. Over his shoulder, Mitch shouted, “Secure him and have the paramedics take care of him when they get here. And thank Caila for not killing him because Brandt’s going to have a lot of questions for him.”
Then it will be our turn.
Phoenix looked completely shell-shocked when he pushed her blood smeared hair back from her face. Her eyes were closed, but she smiled. “I knew you’d come. I just had to stay awake until you got here.” The fading whisper almost broke his heart, and from the shattered look on Phoenix’s face, he also felt the sharp stabbing pains of guilt as they moved quickly toward the waiting helicopter.
Ryan Morgan was already running toward them as fast as his bent position allowed, shouting questions as they got closer. “How long ago? Was she conscious when you found her? Position?” It was the usual drill, but it felt profoundly different this time. This time, the wounded person lying limp in his arms was the woman he’d fallen in love with.