by Theresa Hall
“H-hold on.” The cold was taking over his body. Jackson turned around and put his back to her. “Get on.” He bent slightly to allow her to get a good grip on him. She struggled to pull herself up. He reached into the bitter cold water and pulled her legs up to his side. Her arms wrapped around his neck as her breath tickled his cheek.
A few more feet to go and they would be out of the creek. Jackson fought the last few steps of the freezing current until the water began draining away from his body. Once he had her on the dry bank, he let her slide down from his back.
“Come on. We need to keep moving. Are you all right?”
“So cold,” she whispered.
“I know. The house is right up this hill.”
Gunfire erupted into the darkness, sending them scrambling up the embankment.
Jackson could only hope that his friend had found cover. He longed to turn around and rush back to Devon, but he had to help Allison. He grabbed her hand and squeezed as her fingers wrapped around his. Shots rang out as they ran up the hill. He argued with himself about leaving her to help Devon, but as they ran, he knew there was only one choice to make. Devon was trained for these situations. Allison wasn’t.
“Come on,” he said, pulling her with him.
TEN
Allison followed Jackson up the steep hill holding on to his hand for dear life. Just when she thought she couldn’t walk another step, she noticed lights from a nearby house.
“It’s right up here.” Jackson’s steps quickened.
“Will we be safe?”
“I won’t let you out of my sight.” He squeezed her hand and pulled her in step with his pace.
Allison pulled away and turned to face him. “How do you know we’ll be safe here? They’re right down there. With guns.”
Ignoring her questions, he tugged her hand. “Come on. We don’t have time to stand here. I have to get you warm.”
They reached the house, and she watched as he pulled a key from under a rock. He unlocked the door with a shaking hand. A blast of warmth blanketed them as he opened the front door. The golden glow of a small lamp shone on his face. His hair was in a spiky mess, but he’d somehow managed to keep it dry.
“Come on. We have to find you some warm clothes and a blanket.”
Relief steadied her breathing. Her body still trembled from a mixture of the frigid water and fear.
“I feel like we’re breaking in.”
“We are. Come this way.”
Allison followed him. His wet boots squeaked against the linoleum floor. He pushed a door open and flipped on a light. He reached down and pulled the ends of her wet hair from her collar. His cold fingers brushed her neck, sending new shivers down her body.
“You need to hurry and get those clothes off and dry your hair. See if you can find a hair dryer. I’ll go look for some clothes for you to wear.”
He shut the door and reappeared a few minutes later, tapping on it.
“Hey, I have something for you.”
Allison stood behind the door as she opened it. She stuck her hand out to retrieve what he’d found. “Thank you. You should change into something dry, too.” She shut the door and examined the clothes.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen. Hurry up. I’m going to light a fire so we can warm up a little.”
Allison emerged wearing a pair of women’s sweatpants that were a couple of inches too short and a large bulky sweater that fell just above her knees.
She caught him bent over tending to a blazing fire. His wet boots were propped against the hearth to dry. He was wrapped in a blanket, barefoot and still wearing his wet uniform. Jackson looked up from the fireplace and grinned. “You’re definitely safe here. They’ll never find you in that sweater.”
Allison looked down and giggled. She immediately felt guilty for taking the time to laugh while Devon was still out there.
“What about Devon?”
“He’ll be all right. Devon isn’t going to stay there and put himself in danger.”
“I hope you’re right.”
A look of concern flashed over his face. He was worried, too. If something happened to either of the two men, she’d never forgive herself for bringing them into this situation.
“Please don’t hide things from me to protect me. I can take the truth. Do you think they will ever give up trying to find me?”
“I know if any woman can handle the truth, it’s you.”
“What’s really going on? It’s only been a couple of days since that truck ran me off the road, and look at everything that’s happened to me. You’re a cop. Can’t you make any sense of this? What would make them want to kill me? Just because I stopped to help?”
He shot her a look that said he didn’t want to talk about it.
“At least tell me what you’re thinking.”
He turned to face her. “Allison, I don’t know what to think. You’ve been shot at and drugged. You can ID the man who was transporting the body of a murdered DEA agent. Right now, I don’t know much more than you do. I’m only trying to keep you alive.”
“How long can we stay here?”
“I don’t know. But for now it’s all I’ve got and you have to warm up.”
“So do you.”
“I’m fine.” He turned to face the fireplace and held out his hands.
“Aren’t you cold in those wet clothes?”
“No.” His short, curt tone made her flinch.
Allison fought the urge to snap back at him. Instead, she sat on the floor next to where he stood and held her feet up to the fireplace. The warmth soothed her ragged nerves.
“Your hair is still wet.” His tone had simmered down but she could still hear the edge in it.
“I couldn’t find a hair dryer. Why haven’t you changed clothes?”
He laughed. “You don’t know Richard Maber. He’s about your size. There’s nothing in this house that would fit me. That sweater is the biggest thing in the house.”
“Oh.” Heat crept from her neck to her cheeks, and it wasn’t because of the fire. “Jackson, I feel horrible.”
“For what?”
“Getting you involved in this. Getting Devon involved in this.”
“This is my job. It’s Devon’s job, too. You didn’t get me involved. I told you—I do this for a living.”
“You help women run for their lives for a living?”
Jackson grinned. “Not exactly, but you know what I mean.”
“What if you can’t save me? What if something bad happens?”
His brow creased. He rammed a metal poker at a glowing log.
“I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you...or Devon.”
Jackson poked harder at the log until it broke into two pieces. “Just because I couldn’t save my wife doesn’t mean I can’t save you.”
Allison inhaled a sharp breath. His words hit her like a sucker punch. “I didn’t mean it like that, Jackson.”
He dropped the poker and pulled both palms down his face, then sat on the floor next to her. She stayed quiet for fear of upsetting him more.
Jackson turned to face her. He lifted her chin with a finger and allowed his gaze to move from her mouth to her eyes. “It’s okay. I’m stressed out and taking it out on you.”
Although she was drying out, her body shivered against her will. Jackson took the blanket from around his shoulders and draped it over hers. Words escaped her as she stared at him. Jackson Archer was a gorgeous man. Inside and out.
He tucked the blanket around her and pulled her into him. The smell of his cologne still lingered on his skin. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of his breathing. She lost herself in the moment until his voice startled her.
“I don’t mean to be rough and callous with you. It’s just that... I’m
not good at having a soft side.”
“Yes, you are, Jackson. I know it’s in there. I’ve seen it. I’m seeing it right now.”
“Hope always brought it out in me. No one else since her, though. Not until you.” He rubbed her arms through the thick blanket. “I’ve only known you a few days, but you remind me so much of her.”
Allison’s heart sank. No matter how much she tried to tell herself that she didn’t care for him, the truth was that she did. He didn’t seem to be ready for a relationship. Even if they tried, would he always compare her to his wife? She couldn’t measure up to someone who meant the world to him. She could never be Hope.
For now, she wouldn’t think about it. She only wanted to enjoy the moment. She snuggled closer to him and sighed. His wife had been a blessed woman. Deep down, all Allison ever wanted was to be that important to someone.
But Jackson Archer had already found that person.
* * *
A rap sounded on the front door. Jackson spun around and grabbed for the gun lying beside him on the floor. A man stepped inside before he could draw his weapon.
“Y’all okay in here?” Devon slammed the door and stood shivering as water dripped from his clothes.
“Man, what is wrong with you?” Jackson set the gun back on the floor next to him and exhaled. “I could’ve shot you.”
“You really think the cartel knocks?”
He heard Allison stifle a giggle. “What about our squad cars?” Jackson stood up and walked to the door.
“We’re not going to be driving those again.”
“Great. We’re sitting ducks here.”
“Richard has a pickup in the garage. We’ll take that.”
Allison watched the two men exchange a worried look.
“What about Allison?”
Devon cocked an eyebrow at him. “Well, we have to get her to the station and hand her over to the feds. Remember? Or did the cold freeze your brain?”
Jackson shook his head. Devon’s witty comebacks were growing old. He reached for his boots and began to put them on. He wasn’t about to turn Allison over to anyone. Not until they knew whom to trust.
“No, we’re not.”
“What do you mean? We don’t have a choice. Think about this, Jackson,” Devon pleaded with him.
“Not yet. Not until we can figure this out. We have a rat, Devon. You and I both know it. Somebody is tipping these people off. How can I guarantee her safety if I turn her over to them?”
“Then we’ll take her to your house. You can keep an eye on her until I can figure something out. She’ll be safe there as long as we don’t tell anyone where we are.”
Allison stood up and walked toward them. “What if they find me at your house?”
“No, that won’t happen.” Devon shook his head adamantly. “No one will know you’re there. Only the three of us.”
“How can you be sure of that?” Allison looked at both men.
“We can’t.” Jackson stared at the ground. He wanted to lie and tell her they had this all figured out, but they didn’t.
“Okay then, let’s go.” Devon led them to the garage, where they climbed into a crew cab, four-wheel-drive pickup truck.
Allison started to climb into the front seat, but Jackson stopped her. “No, get into the back.” He saw a hurt look cross her face. “Lay down so no one knows you’re in here.”
“Oh. I didn’t think of that.”
Jackson smiled and winked down at her. “That’s why I’m here.”
“And I’m just along for the ride,” Devon quipped. “Get in. We need to move.”
They rode to Jackson’s place in silence. It was a much-needed break from the reality they were in. He glanced toward the back seat and saw Allison sleeping.
“She’s tough.” Devon grinned as he looked at her in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah.”
“What’s going on with you two?” Devon whispered.
“Shh. Cut it out.” He wasn’t ready to explain anything to Devon or anyone else. The truth was he didn’t know what was going on with them. He just knew it was something.
When they reached his house, Jackson opened the truck door to let Allison out. “Here it is. I’ll go turn down your bed in the guest room so you can get right back to sleep.”
She sat up and yawned but didn’t move to get out. “Hey, you can get out now.”
Tears filled her eyes as she stared straight ahead. She didn’t have to explain that she’d woken up and realized the nightmare was real. He took her hand and led her out of the vehicle. She followed a bit too close behind him, accidentally stepping on the back of his boot a couple times.
Devon waved, then headed back to the station. He’d promised to call with any new information. Jackson punched in a code on the keypad to unlock the front door. He led her through the foyer and into the living room. He and Hope had designed the house themselves. She’d spent countless hours of decorating to reflect both their tastes. Most people described it as having a rustic charm. He never knew what that meant, but it always seemed to make her happy since that’s what she was going for. To him, it was home.
“Your house is amazing.”
“Thanks.” He motioned toward a staircase at the back of the living room. “Your room is upstairs.”
She walked ahead of him as he followed. At the landing, he pointed to the last bedroom on the left. “There’s a guest bathroom that connects to the room. You’ll have your privacy up here. I’ll be sleeping downstairs.”
He opened the door and flipped on the light. The bedroom was still decorated the way Hope had left it. White curtains hung over the windows, and a white comforter with a light blue crocheted afghan covered the bed. His mom had made it for them when they’d gotten engaged.
“The sheets should be fresh. The housekeeper comes once a week and changes all the linens. I tried to tell her no one is ever going to stay in this house, but she insists. I’m sure she’ll be glad to know someone finally did.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Again, not my doing. There’s a remote for the TV if you feel like watching anything...but on second thought, maybe you should get some sleep.”
“Thank you, Jackson. For everything.”
Her brown eyes stared up at him. He fought the urge to pull her close and kiss her until all her fears went away. Jackson cleared his throat. “Let me now if you need anything. There’s an intercom by the light switch. Just push the button to talk into it. I’ll hear it downstairs.”
“Your house is fancy...for lack of a better word.”
“Hope had a lot of money, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“No, I wasn’t getting at that. I was making an observation.”
He shrugged. “She had more than we could ever spend. Her dad designed a computer program for NASA. I couldn’t tell you what it did other than make him a lot of money. He died the year after we got married and left Hope a sizable inheritance.”
He realized he was rambling, which wasn’t something he was used to doing. “Anyway, yell if you need me. Good night, Allison.”
He shut the door and inhaled a long, deep breath. What in the world was this woman doing to him? Without warning, guilt settled over him.
This was Hope’s home. How could he have thoughts of another woman in this house? Anger swelled in the pit of his stomach. The last thing he would ever do is dishonor the memory of his wife in her own house.
Jackson stormed into his bedroom to change into some dry clothes. He came out and went downstairs to plop into his brown leather recliner. He needed to report his whereabouts and let the captain know about the cars. Although he was off duty now, not reporting in meant he’d be breaking protocol.
It wasn’t as if Rusty Schmille would have any sympathy for him. His only hope was to plead his case to t
he chief when he went back in a few days. The chief was a good man, unlike Schmille. He didn’t understand why they kept him around, but like it or not, Jackson had to report to him.
After he punched in the number to the station, he put his feet up and leaned back in the chair. He waited for the captain to answer.
“Schmille.”
“Hey, Captain. It’s Archer.”
“Where have you been, Archer?”
“What do you mean? Devon and I have been calling into dispatch all night. They’ve had my location.” He gritted his teeth to keep from letting the man know how he really felt.
“The feds are crawling on us over here. This is their case now, and you’re running around with their witness. Tell me where you’re at and I’ll come get her myself.”
Something in his gut told him this scenario wasn’t right, but nothing about this case was normal.
“No, she needs to rest for the night. She’s safe, and I’m not moving her. She’s a witness, not a criminal. I can keep her safe until morning.”
“Archer, I’ve got the chief breathing down my neck. I’ve got feds all over the place. I don’t think you’re in any position to tell me no. I’m going to ask you one more time. Where is she?”
Jackson’s instincts told him to lie, but his training and commitment to the job forced him to tell the truth. Devon was right. They couldn’t keep running with her and still uphold the law.
“She’s somewhere safe. Sleeping.”
“You’re joking.”
“No.”
“Un-stinking-believable. Fine. You’d just better make sure nothing happens to her, Archer. She’s their only witness against the cartel. Get her here ASAP.”
“After she gets a little rest, sir.”
“Archer...be ready to explain to the chief why you broke protocol and didn’t bring her in like you were told. I’m not covering for you. You’re on your own.”
It was a mistake reporting in. Had he known this was going to happen, he wouldn’t have made the call.