Christy Barritt - Trained To Defend

It was a car. Coming up the gravel lane that led to his home. At four thirty in the morning.

He jumped out of his warm bed and threw on some clothes. After grabbing the gun from his nightstand, he peered out the window. Adrenaline pounded through him.

Unexpected visitors in the middle of the night usually meant trouble.

As a former detective, Colton had a whole list of people who might want to track him down and exact revenge. Apparently, not even moving out here to ten acres in northern Idaho was enough to keep people away.

He watched as the driver cut the headlights as he neared the house. He didn’t recognize the beat-up sedan. But the fact that the driver was being secretive set off all kinds of warning alarms in his mind.

Colton hurried down the stairs to his front door. He stepped out onto his porch just as the vehicle rolled to a stop behind his truck.

With his finger poised on the gun, Colton waited to see what would happen next.

Snow pelted down from above, and the darkness obscured the landscape around him. Nightfall out here in the middle of Idaho’s Rocky Mountains was unlike any Colton had ever experienced. The blackness was so deep, a person felt like they could be swallowed by it.

The isolation was both a friend and a foe.

Colton knew one thing: someone had to be desperate to head out in slick, treacherous weather like this, especially in a sedan like the one in front of his house. The vehicle looked like it could break down at any minute. The front bumper was dented, the driver’s side door was faded, and the tires looked tiny and worn down.

He glanced beyond the car to make sure no one else had followed. He saw nothing, no one—just a dark, empty lane lined with pine and fir trees.

Colton sucked in a breath when a dog hopped from the backseat and into the knee-high snow. A husky.

Why would someone bent on revenge have brought a dog with them?

And then he saw the biggest trouble of all.

Sarah Peterson stepped out and stared across the expanse at him.

He sucked in another breath.

Sarah. His Sarah.

Colton never thought he’d see the woman again, not after the way things had ended between them two years ago.

But there she was. Even in the darkness, he could see that she looked just as beautiful as ever with her shiny blond hair and petite figure. But something about her body language was different. Gone was the lighthearted, carefree vibe that Colton had loved so much. In its place was…terror. It was the only word he could think of to describe the look.

She staggered toward him and collapsed into the mounds of white, icy flakes that covered his front yard.

Colton jammed his gun into his waistband and rushed toward her. The dog barked at him, urging him on, telling him he wasn’t moving fast enough.

When he reached Sarah, snow already encased her limp body.

She was…barefoot? In a knee-length dress?

What was going on? Why would she be dressed like this in such frigid weather? Something was seriously wrong.

Colton gathered her in his arms and carried her inside his house. Despite the craziness of the moment, he still caught of whiff of Sarah’s honeysuckle-scented lotion.

At one time, it had been one of his favorite aromas in the world. It brought back memories of watching sunsets in each other’s arms. Of dreaming about the future while hiking their favorite trail. Of good-night kisses and long hugs on the porch.

Shoving aside the bittersweet memories, Colton lowered Sarah onto his leather couch. She was freezing and had to warm up. He’d call an ambulance, but it would take twenty minutes to get here.

Before grabbing a blanket, his eyes skimmed the light blue sweater covering her arms. Was that…blood on her sleeves?

Colton sucked in a breath.

What in the world had happened to her?

He quickly checked her for wounds but saw nothing. That meant the blood wasn’t hers.

Wasting no more time, he grabbed a blanket and covered her. That blanket wouldn’t be enough, though. He went to the fireplace and added wood, waiting until the blaze fanned and filled the room with more heat. Then he turned up his thermostat, hoping it kicked in quickly.

Colton went back to check on Sarah. He felt confident she just needed to warm up. He’d let her rest for a few minutes before deciding his next step.

His breath caught as he gazed at her. Beautiful Sarah.

He hadn’t expected to see her again. Ever. Not after the way things had ended. Not after she’d chosen a job over a future with him. Bitterness tried to claw at him, but Colton pushed it away. There wasn’t time for that now.

The dog nuzzled his hand, and Colton looked down at him. The husky sat directly in front of Colton, almost as if telling him that he had to answer to this canine.

“What happened, boy?” Colton murmured.

The dog let out a soft growl and stared at Sarah.

“Something bad, huh?” Colton’s stomach tightened. If only the dog could speak.

Colton double-checked Sarah’s vitals. Her pulse was good. She was breathing and didn’t appear feverish.

She must have passed out from exhaustion or shock.

Lord, be with her. I don’t know what happened, but I know she needs You now.

Just as he said “Amen,” Sarah began thrashing on the couch, and her breathing quickened.

“He’s coming,” Sarah murmured, her eyes still closed. “He’s coming.”

Colton’s back stiffened. Who was coming? What exactly had Sarah gotten herself mixed up in?

He didn’t know. He only knew that the woman he’d once loved had somehow found herself in serious trouble.

Sarah jerked her eyes open and startled at the unfamiliar space around her.

Where was she? Was that man here—the man who’d killed Loretta? Had he caught Sarah and taken her somewhere?

She sprang up, swinging her gaze around as panic seized her. Movement caught the side of her vision.

The killer. He was here.

Sarah raised her hands, ready to give every last ounce of her strength to stay alive.

Her arm jerked toward him. But, before her fist connected with the man, he grabbed her wrists.

The action immobilized her. She thrashed, trying to get away. It was no use. The man…he was too strong. He overpowered her too easily.

“Sarah, it’s okay.” His voice sounded surprisingly calm and soothing—not at all like Sarah had imagined.

But she wouldn’t let that fool her.

“No, it’s not okay.” With one last burst of strength, she began fighting again.

“Sarah, it’s me. Colton.”

Slowly, her ex-fiancé’s face came into view.

Colton.

That was right. She’d fled to Colton’s house. She barely remembered making it here.

She only vaguely recalled driving around as if on autopilot. Of deciding to come here but changing her mind. Of wandering country back roads in the dark, worried about running out of gas.

She remembered the panic. Remembered not thinking clearly.

As more details from last night flooded back to Sarah, she gasped.

Details about Loretta. Of the woman’s final moments.

Tears sprang to her eyes, and her limbs shook uncontrollably.

Loretta was dead. She’d passed right there in Sarah’s arms while her attacker had lain collapsed against the wall.

As Colton released her hands, Sarah leaned back, desperate to hold herself together. Yet she couldn’t.

No, she’d been so frantic that she’d run to the very man who’d broken her heart—only he refused to acknowledge that he’d been the one to pull away. Colton refused to understand why Sarah had no choice but to leave, refused to understand that this was never about her art.

Buzz appeared beside Sarah, and his cold nose nuzzled her hand. She smiled and rubbed the dog’s head, finding comfort in his familiar scent.