Lena Diaz - Smoky Mountains Ranger

“Why aren’t they still up there, trying to shoot us?” she asked. “Maybe they didn’t think we’d survive the drop?” She shivered and wrapped her hands around her waist. “Maybe they’re worried someone heard the shots, so they took off?”

He shook his head. “Unless there are more trespassers ignoring the trail-closed signs, there’s no one else to hear the gunshots. And I don’t see our friends just moseying to their car and heading back where they came from after all the trouble they went to. They’re after something. And they don’t have it yet.” His eyes stared deep into hers, once again darkening with suspicion. “How much motivation do they have, Jody? Enough to figure out a way down that mountain to come after us?”

A cold chill shot through her. She looked up again. But the only thing above them was a bright blue sky and a hawk gliding over the mountaintops.

“Jody? Who were those men? Why are they after you?” He climbed to his feet and helped her stand.

She stepped back so she could meet his gaze without getting a crick in her neck. “You’re bleeding. I really think we should get the first aid kit.” She took another step back.

He grabbed her waist and yanked her to the side. “Haven’t you ever been in the mountains before? Never back up without looking first.”

She glanced over her shoulder and sucked in a breath. The blood seemed to drain from her body, leaving her cold and shaking. Once again, she’d been close to the edge of another drop-off and had nearly plunged over the side.

Swallowing hard, she pressed a shaking hand to her throat. “Thank you. You’ve saved me more times than I can count and we’ve known each other for less than an hour.”

“We need to go.” He put a hand to the small of her back and urged her toward the charred woods to their right.

“Go where? It looks like we’re heading toward another cliff.” She tried to stop, but his hand was firm, pushing her forward.

“We’ll make our own path. We have to. Out here we’re too much in the open.” He held back a branch on a new sapling that had sprouted from the destruction.

They rounded a curve in the mountain, the going steep, treacherous, with loose rocks underfoot. A few yards farther and they were surrounded by trees, half of them scorched but miraculously still standing. Some of them supported canopies of new growth in spite of their blackened trunks. The underbrush had resurged here. Many of the bushes were taller than both of them.

Far below, water gurgled and rushed over boulders. She caught glimpses of it through breaks in the trees. Rocks in the middle of the stream created eddies and little rapids. The artist in her craved a few moments to stand there and gape at the beauty below, to frame it in her mind’s eye like she’d frame a camera shot. But the reality of their situation, and the imposing ranger beside her, had her hurrying as fast as she could manage through the rough terrain.

He took the outside, near the steep drop, using the rise of the mountain as a barrier against her falling over the edge. His gaze was never still. He constantly scanned the woods around them, looking up at the mountain that rose above their heads. His constant vigilance should have made her feel secure. Instead, it only reminded her of the danger they were in.

She finally grabbed one of the saplings they were passing and used it as an anchor in the sea of fear that threatened to pull her under. “Wait.”

He stopped beside her, brows raised in question.

“Your arms—some of the cuts are still bleeding. And they need to be cleaned so they don’t get infected. Do you have medical supplies in your pack?”

“You’re stalling, Jody. We need to get moving.”

She waved a hand toward the trees surrounding them. “Unless those gunmen take a swan dive over a cliff or have billy goat ancestors, I don’t see how they could follow us. It’s too steep and rocky.”

“They don’t have to get too close. They just need one clear shot. Up on the trail, we were jumping over downed trees and weaving around curves. Plus, their adrenaline was probably pumping pretty good. Otherwise they wouldn’t have missed. I don’t want to hang around in one spot and give them a perfect target.”

Her hand tightened around the sapling. “You’re not helping.”

He frowned again. “Helping with what?”

She huffed out an impatient breath. “I’m scared, okay? Right now I’m more afraid of plunging headfirst over a cliff again than some gunmen who may or may not be following us.”

His expression softened. “I wish I didn’t have to force you to keep going. But I don’t see those guys giving up that easily.”

She swallowed. “Why do you say that?”

“Because they thought nothing of trying to shoot a federal officer. Your average thug thinks twice in a situation like that. They don’t want to risk bringing the wrath of the feds down on them. But our guys not only shot at us multiple times, they risked their own lives running up a dangerous trail to do it. My guess is they might lie low for a little while to see whether backup arrives. But not for long. Then they’ll be looking for a way to hike down here and find us.”

He motioned toward the radio hooked to his belt. “I’ve turned this thing on half a dozen times since our flight down the mountain. There’s no signal, not even a burst of static. One of the radio towers was destroyed in the wildfires. What we have to do is get within range of another tower so we can radio for help. Until then, we keep going.” He arched a brow. “Unless you can tell me why those men might decide to hightail it out of here without finishing us off. Just what are they after? Who are they?”

She hesitated.

His jaw tightened. “Jody—”

“I don’t know their names, other than the one calling the other Owen in front of both of us.”

“You’re splitting hairs. Not knowing their full names and not knowing what they want are two very different things. You were arguing with the first man when I approached. He later warned you to remember what he’d told you. What were you arguing about? What did he want you to remember?”

Without waiting for her reply, he pried her hand from the tree and tugged her through the woods.

Her foot skidded on some loose rocks. She let out a yelp, but he grabbed her around the waist and steadied her before she could fall.

“I’ve got you,” he said. “Try not to worry. My boots hold the trail a lot better than your sneakers. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?”

His voice was gentle again. But there was an underlying thread of steel. He wanted answers. And he deserved them. Even if it meant she might go to jail, or at the least, have all her career aspirations ruined. All those years of college, the sacrifices she’d made, the two jobs she was holding down were for nothing. In one stupid week, she’d destroyed it all.

She jerked to a halt, pressing a hand to her throat. “I can’t believe how selfish I’m being, thinking about my future career and prison when Tracy’s missing.” She moved her hand to her stomach. “That’s just the kind of thing my adoptive father would do.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Your career? Prison? Wait, who’s Tracy?”

Jody groaned and whirled around, gagging as she dropped to her knees and emptied the contents of her stomach.

Suddenly a strong arm was around her waist and a gentle hand swept her hair back from her face, holding it loosely behind her as Adam spoke soothing words in her ear. She was too sick and miserable to protest his help. The spasms wouldn’t seem to stop and she started dry heaving.