by Sophie Oak
She was damn lucky she hadn’t gone over the edge.
What the hell had happened? She hadn’t thought about it before, but now she had to wonder. Long-Haired Roger had checked her tires. He’d said they were solid, if a bit old. Had she hit something?
Rachel pulled out the cell phone Max insisted she carry. She’d been annoyed at the time, but now she was grateful, or she would be if she could get a signal. There were no bars to be had this high on the mountain. Once she got to the valley, she would be able to make a call. Of course, once she got to the valley, she would be home and wouldn’t need to make a call. She pocketed the phone, grabbed her purse, and found a flashlight in the back of the Jeep.
The flashlight told the story. That back tire was flat and it looked like she’d torn it against something. Max had told her she could wreck the car by driving too close to the mountainside of the road. There were rocks on the side.
There was no way to change the tire here. She would have to get the Jeep towed. Once that happened, she would never see it again. She knew Max. Max would have a new car shipped in before the old one could get to the shop.
She sighed and started to walk.
And really, what was wrong with that? Max wanted her to have a new car. She probably needed one. It worried him every time she drove off. If he needed one and she had the money to buy it for him, she would. Why was she fighting him?
She breathed in the slightly cool night air and knew why. She was afraid. She was afraid of depending on him and Rye. She was terrified it would all go wrong if she let go. It was easier to tell herself that she didn’t need them. They were just fun and sexy. They didn’t matter in the end. She could only count on herself.
The truth was people ran when the going got tough. Rachel had seen it firsthand when Tommy Lane barged into her life. When it became obvious she had a crazy stalker attached to her, her friends had fallen by the wayside. Some of them had tried to stick it out, but in the end, they had protected themselves. Her best friend Alison’s tires had been slashed when Rachel had spent the night at her house. Alison had a baby to think about. Rachel didn’t blame her for pulling away, but it had taught her a lesson. It was the real reason she hadn’t mentioned her problem to the boys. She was afraid that once they heard about all the trouble following her they would rethink the relationship.
Rachel pointed the flashlight. In the distance she could see the turnoff to Mel’s place. There was a light from his cabin. A shiver went through her. It was so dark here. The darkness was a soft thing when she was at home and sitting on the porch with Max, but now it seemed foreboding. That little light in the distance was warm and welcoming.
It was ridiculous. Home was less than half a mile away. She wasn’t going to run to the town’s craziest conspiracy theorist for protection from the dark. She would walk right past his drive and march straight home.
Rachel heard a sound behind her. She turned and looked back up the road. There was a car coming, but she couldn’t see the lights. She heard the car stop, probably taking a look at her own abandoned vehicle. Her car was occupying a lot of the road. It was only natural a local would stop to try to figure out if someone needed help. It could even be Rye coming home. Maybe she should go back and stay with the car.
She stopped. Rye wouldn’t be driving without his headlights on. Why would anyone be driving on a dangerous road with their headlights off? Rachel’s stomach turned as panic started to take over. Shouldn’t the person have called out by now? Whoever was looking over her car was doing it very quietly.
She clicked off the flashlight, not wanting to give away her position. In the moonlight she could see the vague outline of a body moving around her car. She would bet it was a man. He was stocky, but then it could be a solidly built woman. There were a whole lot of those around here.
Every instinct she had told her to run. If he’d found her, there would be no time to rethink her decision. It wouldn’t be the first time Tommy had caught up to her. Barely breathing, Rachel started to move off the road onto the grass. She would be quieter there, and she needed to get to Mel’s. Mel had a phone, a landline. He thought it was monitored by the alien invasion force, but it worked. She would hole up and call Rye. Her heart was pounding as she watched to see if the shadowy figure was following. All of the terror of the last few years of her life was suddenly riding her hard. She was a mass of survival instincts. Each of them was focused on one thing—the road in front of her. If everything was all right, then the car would either drive by or someone would call out her name looking for her. Everyone in town knew she drove that Jeep. If everything was all right, she would hear someone yelling for “Rachel,” and she would recognize the voice.
Rachel moved behind the tree line as it became clear everything was not all right. There was almost no sound except the dirt crunching as someone walked down the road. Around the corner, a light suddenly came into view. Someone had a flashlight, and he was looking for her.
Without another thought, Rachel ran. She dropped her own flashlight. She simply ran toward the cabin in the distance. She tried to be as quiet as she could, but she was running on adrenaline and pure panic. Her feet sounded through the woods. She would have sworn she could feel the moment he caught sight of her and began his pursuit.
Rachel turned her head as she ran, trying to catch a glimpse of the man chasing her. She knew who it was. There was no question. He’d found her, and he was going to do what he had always promised. He was going to gut her. He was going to bathe in her blood. Tears streamed down her face as she prayed to anyone who would listen.
She saw something in the distance, but it was vague and blurry. It didn’t matter. She could feel him watching her. She knew he was hunting her. Tree limbs slapped her in the face, but she ignored them. She was wearing a short skirt and sneakers. The brush scraped against her legs like a thousand little knives. She kept running. Her foot hit something on the ground and she stumbled, her knee hitting the hard earth. Pain exploded there, but she forced herself back up, holding on to one of the thin aspens for balance. She bit back a hard groan of pain and ran despite the agony.
That pain in her knee would be nothing compared to what he would inflict if he caught her.
She could feel him behind her, getting closer with every step. He was silent, but in her panic it was as though the very trees were calling her name.
“Liz…” Her name seemed to drop from the quaking leaves, attempting to cage her. “Liz.”
But she wasn’t Liz anymore. She was Rachel. She was stronger than she had been before. He might have her on the run now, but she would get away. She would survive.
Her left shoulder connected with something solid and she fell back on her butt. A shadow crossed her vision and a moment of complete terror overtook her until she looked up and there was a hand reaching down. Mel stood over her. He was a slender man, but now he seemed really solid to her in his army fatigues. He held a huge gun in his hands. His eyes were searching the woods. He might be a freaky man, but he was competent with a gun.
“Is it time?” Mel asked, reaching down and hauling her up.
On shaking legs, she stood up beside him. He pressed something into her hand. It was cold and made of metal. A handgun. Yep, that felt damn good in her hands. She immediately flicked the safety off and took a protective stance. She’d learned to use a gun when she realized the cops couldn’t protect her. She remembered the day like it was yesterday. She’d been sitting down to lunch when Tommy joined her. He’d slid beside her in the booth, shocking her in a way that left her utterly frozen. The bastard had sat there, sipping on the iced tea and calmly explaining to her all the things he intended to do to her if she didn’t come back to him. He’d given her a deadline. She’d promised to call the police. He’d simply laughed and told her to prove it. He’d killed her dog the next day, and she’d applied for a gun permit.
“Has the invasion started?”
Her voice was shaky as she replied. “No, Mel, I think it’
s a human man.”
“That’s what they want you to think,” Mel said sensibly. “I want to know if it’s the good guys or the bad guys.”
“There are good guys?” Rachel had only heard about the bad ones.
“Oh, sure.” Mel was calm and collected, as though they were talking about the weather instead of standing at attention with firearms ready to kill anything that moved. “There are some good ones out there. Sometimes they get lost, or they’re on the run from the bad guys. According to a couple I’ve spoken to they mistakenly fall through tears in the walls that separate the planes of existence. There’s always good guys and bad guys, Miss Rachel. That’s how the world works.” He listened for a moment. “But whoever was out there is gone now. He retreated.”
In the distance, a car drove past. Its lights were on now. She couldn’t be sure if it was the same car. Now she felt a little foolish. What if she hadn’t really seen anything except someone checking out a car left on the road? She’d immediately gone to a bad place, her PTSD kicking in like clockwork. Rachel took a deep breath. It had probably been spooked campers.
“Why don’t you come up to the house?” Mel offered. “I’ve got some soup, and we can call your men to come get you.”
Rachel nodded and started to follow him. She looked back into the woods, but all was silent now. She’d overreacted.
“And Miss Rachel, I think you should stay away from those Kent boys,” Mel said seriously, proving the grapevine worked. “Those two seem like nothing but trouble. I don’t think old Max will take kindly to it, and Rye will probably throw them in jail.”
The door to Mel’s cabin opened. Rachel shook off her panic.
She was safe here in Bliss.
Chapter Fourteen
“Where did she go now?” Max turned and looked around the wide, expansive park that housed the picnic grounds. His heart seized as he realized he couldn’t see Rachel anymore. Did she have to buzz around like a super-cute bee?
“She’s back in the booth with Stella,” Rye replied calmly from the ground where he was relaxing. He rested back on his elbows, looking over the crowd. “She walked over to Nell and Henry’s booth, dropped off something, and then walked back. She’s fine. Well, it looked like she picked up something from there, so we might have to find a place for a dream catcher or some weird pottery.”
The fairgrounds were covered with people picnicking on blankets, quilts, or making do with the soft grass. There were several tents around the perimeter where vendors were serving food or offering goods for sale. Or psychic readings, in the case of one Delphine Dellacourt. A vendor had brought in a Ferris wheel and a tilt-a-whirl.
A large stage was set up at the edge of the park. They’d already listened to a couple of musical acts, including Nell’s attempt at Mongolian throat singing. Max was damn happy they’d moved on to the auction portion of the evening. It meant things were starting to wind down.
Everyone was out for Founder’s Day. It was a day to celebrate Bliss’s long history and the great men and women who had built the town. No one mentioned that the town had only been in existence since 1968, when a group of hippies decided it would make a nice commune. Max smiled as he watched Rachel passing out slices of peach pie. His own momma had been one of those hippies. She’d left her home in Virginia and wandered around the country before coming to Colorado. She’d met their dad and become a rancher’s wife. Max and Rye had been the first children born in Bliss.
His mother would have loved Rachel.
“Rachel would have gotten along great with Mom, you know,” Rye said in one of those frequent moments when they were thinking the same thing. Max didn’t question it. It was one of those twin things. It had been like that all their lives. Max felt sorry for all the people who didn’t have it.
“I’m glad she seems to get along with Brooke.” Max stared at Rachel, wondering how she’d gotten past Brooke’s defenses. Brooke had started talking to Rachel on the phone every couple of days. His baby sister was a hellion. Brooke had scared off more than one female before. She seemed to welcome Rachel with open arms, though. She was already talking about making Rachel’s wedding dress. Rachel had protested that it was too early for that. She had no idea that he and Rye were already looking for rings. After Monday, they would make it plain what they needed from her. Max had to hope she could accept it.
Stefan stepped up to the stage to announce the next set of auction items. A whole load of local art had already been auctioned off. Some of the local businesses had put items up as well. Stella had offered up a package that included a Pie of the Month membership. The Bliss Repertory Theater had offered season tickets. Henry and Nell had offered performance art lessons. All proceeds would go to the Talbot Foundation, a scholarship program for artists.
It was a lot. Impatience welled inside him. He’d come because Rachel had ordered him to. He was anxious to get back to the ranch. He wanted to bundle Rachel up and keep her inside the house until they were ready to make their move. Or maybe he would lock her up forever.
Last night had just about given him a heart attack. First there had been the moment he and Rye had walked into the diner and realized she wasn’t there and didn’t answer her cell after he’d called her at least a hundred and twenty times. After Rye made him calm down, they had started up the route she would have taken to get home. They’d made it to her abandoned Jeep when Callie called over the Bronco’s radio telling them Mel had Rachel at his cabin. He owed that crazy and promised to listen to at least one long conspiracy theory a month in payment. He would nod and not interrupt. It was a sacrifice, but well worth it.
Rachel was calm by the time they had gotten to Mel’s, but Max could tell she’d had a bad night. She’d started at every noise and he’d wondered what she’d been through. He’d cradled her while she slept, promising himself that, after Monday, she would still be in his arms.
Max tried to keep his eyes on her, but now there were two pairs of cowboy boots and way-too-tight Wranglers in his way. Two Western shirts covered broad shoulders and Max’s gaze followed the line up to where a couple of beat-to-hell cowboy hats rested on masculine heads. Those boys needed to move. They stood in front of the blanket he and Rye were on, both staring away from them.
“Damn, brother,” a cocky voice said, “that is one gorgeous girl.”
Max looked up and noted that Rye’s attention was now focused on the two young cowboys standing not far from the blanket Rachel had smoothed out for them at the beginning of the picnic.
Okay, it was pretty funny. Max remembered what it was like to be twentysomething. He’d been an ignorant ass, too. And he and Rye had had one thing on their minds.
Max looked around, trying to figure out which young lady had caught the brothers’ eyes. It might be fun to see if they could catch whoever they were trying to pin down. Of course it would be hysterical if the woman turned them down flat. Either way, it would be a fun way to pass the time while waiting on Rach.
“You’re right about that. She is stunning,” the taller one said. He had his hands on his waist. He turned slightly and there was an enormous buckle on his belt proclaiming him the rodeo champion of something or other.
Rye and Max exchanged a look. Max immediately knew these were brothers who shared their toys. He knew his brother was thinking the same thing he was. Those boys were on the prowl, and some lucky woman was in for the ride of her life.
Or the boys would get turned down cold.
Stefan tapped on the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen…”
But Max was still watching that younger version of himself. He’d have to point the cowboys out to Rachel. She would find them amusing.
“It’s those tits that get me,” the shorter one said. “I can’t wait to get my hands on them.”
His brother sighed as though he was thinking about something pleasant. “I can’t wait to see all that hair spread out. I love that color. Do you think her pussy’s strawberry blonde, too? I wonder if she smells like th
at pie she’s selling.”
“What!” Max yelled, nearly spilling the beer he was holding. It was left on the ground and completely forgotten as he sprang up, realizing those idiots were talking about his woman.
Rye was right beside him.
“Hey, don’t spill your beer, old man,” the shorter one advised, tipping his Stetson. “You only get so many beers in your life. You gotta enjoy each one.”
“Come on, Shane,” the other one said. “I think the auction’s about to start. I don’t want to miss buying up that honey’s time.”
“Excuse me, mister,” the first one said, politely stepping around Rye. “We need to go buy a girl.”
They swaggered toward the stage, but Max heard the parting remark. “Nice one, Shane. You’re always polite to our elders.”
“Elders!” Max shouted.
Heads turned, but the younger brothers didn’t look back. Max felt his fists clench. They were looking at his woman and talking about her parts that should only be talked about by him and his brother and yes, he knew how weird that sounded but he didn’t give a shit. He had kicked ass for far less before.
Rye put a hand out to stop his brother. “Calm down.” Rye’s eyes were on Rachel as she took off her apron and folded it neatly. “She’s a beautiful woman. You can’t kick the ass of every man who finds her attractive.”
“Watch me,” Max growled.
His brother sighed. “Don’t embarrass Rachel. You’re supposed to be behaving.”
Teeny and Marie walked up. Teeny and Marie had been their mother’s closest friends. They had been like aunts to the brothers when they were growing up. After their mother had died, it had been Teeny who sat with them at the hospital and Marie who took charge of the arrangements. Their families were interwoven like all the families in Bliss. Brooke had worked at the Trading Post during her teen years, and Teeny’s son was Rye’s deputy.