by Connie Mann
Shifting to a sitting position, she let out a small groan when she tried to move her ankle. She turned her flashlight on, relieved that there were no bones sticking out of the skin. She lightly ran her fingers over the area and decided it was probably sprained, not broken. Hopefully. Her snake boots probably kept it from twisting worse than it had.
She got up onto all fours and then pushed herself upright. The moment she tried to put weight on that ankle, it buckled, and she sank back down to the ground.
Frustrated, she scooted backward until she could lean back against a tree. She sat for a while, heart pounding, ankle throbbing, and tried to sort out the sounds of the night critters. Despite all her childhood drills, she felt like a complete and utter failure because the world around her seemed completely foreign and unknown and scary. So much for all her lofty thinking about how far she’d risen above her humble beginnings. She was lost in the forest in the dead of night, hurt, and she had no idea what to do next.
Except call Josh.
She pulled out the phone and sighed. Still no signal. She swallowed her pride and texted: Truck stuck in sand. Somewhere near my folks’ old campsite. Ankle sprained. Can you help?
She hit Send, watched the screen for a moment, and hoped it went through. Then she leaned her head back against the tree trunk and settled in to wait, determined not to jump at every rustle and chirp.
A different noise, one that seemed more stealthy, made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She carefully looked around but didn’t see anything. Or anyone. Still, she was sure eyes were watching her. There probably were, she reminded herself. Animal eyes.
She refused to consider any other possibility.
* * *
Delilah must have gotten a ride with someone or walked home, because she wasn’t nearby. He stopped at another small clearing, called her name again, and shone his Maglite all around, hoping for a glimpse of her. What if she’d fallen? Hit her head or couldn’t answer? He took a breath, annoyed with himself. He didn’t normally overreact, but his concern for Delilah was making him act like a mama wood duck with only one chick left.
When his phone buzzed, he pulled it out of his pocket and read her text. Maybe it wasn’t worry so much as intuition where she was concerned. He texted back: I think I’m nearby. Shine a flashlight, call my name, I’ll find you.
He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Delilah! Delilah, where are you?”
He called several more times and then stopped to listen. When he heard a faint response, he took off running in that direction.
* * *
Josh’s text sent a surge of relief through Delilah, and she sagged against the tree, eyes closed. “Oh thank God.” Seconds later, panic hit. Worried he would give up and leave before he found her, she scrambled to her feet, wincing as she accidentally put weight on her left foot. One hand braced against the tree trunk, she shouted his name, waving her flashlight over her head like a shipwreck survivor who’d finally spotted a Coast Guard vessel.
When he raced into the clearing, Delilah launched herself into his arms. He stumbled back a few steps before he caught his balance, wrapping her tightly in his arms, murmuring, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
She pulled back to see his face, and suddenly, her lips met his—or his met hers, she couldn’t tell which—and they were kissing with the kind of desperation reserved for real shipwreck survivors. The kiss went on and on, sensations rushing over her faster than she could sort them out. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer still, nuzzling his neck, sighing as he murmured in her hair and placed soft kisses along her jaw. His grip shifted, and she realized her legs were wrapped around his waist after she’d climbed him like a tree. His hands cupped her bottom, and when she crossed her ankles to get closer still, she winced in pain.
The moment shattered, and he slowly pulled back. She blinked, dazed and not at all sure she wanted the kiss to end. His eyes said he felt the same, but even so, reason had reasserted itself. He brushed her lips once more, then steadied her as she unwrapped her legs and lowered them to the ground. She winced again when her injured ankle touched down. His grip on her waist tightened. “Easy. Go slow.”
With infinite care, he maneuvered her down against the tree, then crouched beside her. He ran his flashlight over her with crisp efficiency before he set it off to the side so it wouldn’t blind them. His touch was gentle as he tipped her head up so he could see her face. “Are you okay? Which ankle?”
She met his concerned gaze. “Left one. And I’m fine. Nothing much injured except my pride.” She couldn’t believe she’d launched herself at him. “Sorry I, ah, overreacted.”
One side of his mouth curved upward. “The forest can be unsettling at night.” Then his grin widened. “But feel free to overreact anytime you want.”
They grinned at each other like idiots for a minute before she remembered she had to keep her distance. But dang, the man could kiss. He removed her boot, and the sharp pain jerked her back to the present. He ran his big hands from her calf all the way to her toes, then carefully rotated her ankle, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. When he was done, he gently slid her foot back into the boot, tucking the laces inside rather than tying them, since it was already starting to swell.
“The good news is I don’t think it’s broken.” He sent her the lopsided smile that turned her insides to mush. “The bad news is that I don’t think you’re going to be able to walk on it.”
“How far away is your truck?” she asked.
“Not too far if you have two good legs.” He stood and held out his hands to help her to her feet. The moment she was upright, he pulled her into his arms and wrapped her securely against his hard chest again. “I’m so glad you weren’t hurt worse.”
He kissed her again, gently this time, and Delilah slid into the kiss like a warm bath. She absorbed the strength of his arms around her and the beat of his heart thundering against her chest, feeling cherished and protected in a way she never had before. Slowly, reluctantly, she pulled back, and their eyes met and held, awareness buzzing between them like an electrical current. The heat in his eyes sent a low hum through her body. It buzzed through her a split second before he slapped at a mosquito on her cheek. She yelped in surprise, and he grinned. “Sorry. Bloodthirsty little buggers. Let’s get out of here.”
Keeping one of her hands in his, he turned his back and crouched. “Climb on. I’ll carry you back to my truck.”
Delilah was shaking her head no before he finished speaking. “You can’t carry me. I’m way too heavy.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you doubting my manly strength?”
The absurdity surprised a laugh out of her. “I would never doubt your manly strength, Officer Tanner.”
“Then climb on, and let’s get out of here already.” He crouched lower. “And stop calling me Officer Tanner.”
Since she didn’t have much choice at this point, Delilah gingerly climbed on. He scooped her up, piggyback style, and set off into the forest. He spun her around a few times as he walked, singing an off-key version of the seven dwarves song. “Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it’s through the woods we go,” then he whistled the rest, making up words here and there.
Delilah laughed and attempted, badly, to sing along, appreciating his attempt to distract her from her throbbing ankle. She took her cue from him and decided to enjoy the ride, the feel of her arms wrapped around his neck, his rock-hard arms supporting her as he strolled through the forest as though she weighed nothing. She was used to thinking her way through life, but with Josh, she was learning to simply enjoy the moment.
After a few minutes, he asked, “What were you doing out here so late? Looking for your family?”
“That was the plan, but they’re gone. What about you?”
Delilah could feel him smile. “Great minds and all that. I was here to t
alk to them, too, but they’ve obviously moved on again.”
“They don’t usually stay in one place for very long. At least they didn’t when I was growing up.”
“From the little I know of them, that seems to be their typical pattern.”
She held her breath after she asked, “Any ideas about where they might’ve gone?”
Josh thought for a moment. “There’s no set pattern that I can see.”
“There wasn’t when I was a child, either. At least not one I noticed.”
He scooted her up a little higher when she started slipping, and he asked, “So what happened to your truck?”
“The brakes quit. They were fine on the way here, but as I was leaving, they gave out.”
They found her truck, with his beside it. He gently set her on the passenger seat, then climbed in behind the wheel.
“What do you mean by ‘gave out’? Did they go soft on you?”
Delilah shook her head. “No. Gave out as in my foot went all the way to the floor.”
“That’s not good. Let me take a quick look before I drive you home so I have an idea what we’re looking at.”
“You don’t have to—”
Josh sent her a look. “Take the help that’s offered, Delilah.” He cranked the engine and turned on the AC, then maneuvered his pickup so the headlights illuminated her hood.
He drove her truck a few hundred yards before coasting to a stop. She let out a relieved sigh. Nothing was more annoying than a vehicle issue that magically disappeared when someone tested it. Josh climbed out of her truck, and next thing she knew, he was lying half under it, flashlight in hand.
When he brushed the sand off his back and returned to his truck several minutes later, his expression was grim. “You said the brakes were fine on the way out here, right?”
“Yes. I haven’t had any problems. Why?”
Josh tapped a finger on the steering wheel, then turned to face her, eyes hard, looking every inch a cop. “Someone cut your brake lines. I took a picture with my phone, but from what I can see, this was definitely deliberate.”
A chill slithered down her back. Would Aaron or John Henry have done that? Or was this the work of whoever had left the bullet and note? After a lifetime of living under the radar, being singled out like this made her feel naked and vulnerable. Why was someone doing this?
She swallowed hard before she asked, “What happens now?”
“Hunter and Pete and I will take the truck to the Outpost, document what was done, and I’ll fix the brake lines for you. It will be quicker and definitely cheaper.” He grinned as he said that last bit.
“I can’t ask you to do that.” Indecision swamped her. She wasn’t comfortable asking for help, but she needed a vehicle to search for Mary.
“You didn’t ask, Delilah. I offered. Big difference.”
She couldn’t find words, so she simply said, “Thank you.” The man continually surprised her with his kindness.
The truck’s motion must have lulled her to sleep, because next thing she knew, Josh had scooped her into his arms and carried her into her camper. He laid her down on the futon and propped several pillows under her ankle before he rooted around in her tiny bathroom for supplies. After he carefully wrapped her ankle, he tucked an instant ice pack around it. “You have some ibuprofen?”
Delilah told him where they were and dutifully swallowed several with the water he handed her. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
Josh didn’t answer, just covered her with an afghan and sat down at her tiny dinette. “Get some rest. We’ll sort it all out tomorrow.”
When it dawned on her that he wasn’t leaving, she pushed herself up on her elbows. “I’m fine, really. There is no reason for you to sit at my kitchen table all night. Go home.”
Josh glanced up from his phone. “I’ll feel better if I keep an eye on you.”
“I’d rather you leave,” she shot back, then sucked in a breath and added, “please.” They faced off across the small space. She was perfectly capable of caring for herself, thank you very much, and besides, he needed sleep. Therein lay her dilemma. Her futon was the only bed, and if he climbed in here with her, there was no way she’d be able to keep her hands off him. Josh Tanner stirred feelings in her she didn’t know what to do with and that, frankly, scared her spitless. If she slept with him, instinct said her heart would be tied to his in ways that wouldn’t be fair. Not to her or to him, since her days here were limited. But she couldn’t put any of that into words, so keeping her physical distance seemed the safest choice.
Josh didn’t argue. He simply stood, kissed her on the forehead, and said, “Sleep well. I’ll be outside if you need me.”
“You don’t need to—”
He walked out and shut the door before she finished her sentence. Delilah flopped back down on the pillow and pulled the afghan up under her chin. It was too hot for it, but it made her feel safe. Before she could muster up the energy to go tell Josh he was free to leave, she fell asleep.
Chapter 11
The dull ache in her ankle kept Delilah tossing and turning most of the night, trying to get comfortable. After another dose of ibuprofen, she finally fell into a deep sleep just before dawn.
Pounding on her front door jolted her awake. Then Josh’s voice. “Delilah? Are you up? I brought breakfast.”
She shoved her hair out of her face and realized she must look a fright, but there was no hope for it now. She hobbled to the door, and he shouldered his way in, filling the space with his big body and clean male scent. He set a cup and bakery bag on the table. “I brought coffee, cupcakes, and a dose of sympathy from Liz at no extra charge. She hopes you feel better ASAP.” He glanced around her small kitchen, started opening cupboards. “How do you take your coffee? Cream and sugar?”
Delilah struggled to keep up. She was never at her best when she first opened her eyes, but apparently, Josh had no such trouble. She sank down at the dinette and then squinted at the clock. “Ten o’clock? Oh wow.”
“How’s the ankle this morning?” He nudged the bakery bag in her direction.
Delilah wasn’t sure which question to answer first, so she said, “Cream and sugar please. Too soon to tell on the ankle.” She stirred both into her cup, then added, “Thank you for breakfast.”
He sat down across from her, handed her keys back. “Hunter, Pete, and I checked out the truck this morning and towed it to the Outpost. We got it fixed, and Pete’s outside, ready to give me a ride back to town.” He paused, and in the blink of an eye, easygoing Josh morphed into Officer Tanner. “I’m concerned for your safety, Delilah. Leaving a note that says you’re not welcome here is one thing. Shooting at you and cutting the brake lines on your truck are something else entirely.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Charlee said you could stay with her until we figure this out.” His tone made it sound like a command.
Delilah sipped her coffee, stunned by his family’s kindness. His concern also proved she wasn’t simply exaggerating things in her own mind. But had a random stranger targeted her? Or was this her family’s doing?
She’d have to think about that when he wasn’t watching her like a bug under a microscope. “Please tell Charlee I appreciate the offer very much, but I’ll be fine. And I never expected you to fix my truck. Thank you. How much do I owe you?” He rattled off a number and as she handed him the bills, a horn outside gave one short blast.
He ignored it and took her free hand, his thumb rubbing circles on the back. “I wish you’d stay with Charlee. But since you won’t, if anything weird happens or you feel like something is off, you call me. Day or night. Understood?”
“I’ll be fine, but I appreciate the concern, truly.”
Just before he left, he sent a look over his shoulder that made her want to grab him and yank him close, but she smiled instead. Then she plopped down
on the futon, mind whirling. If Aaron had cut the brake lines on her truck—because she couldn’t see her father doing it—it still came back to why? Was this about Mary’s wedding or about what she’d seen the day Black died? If she tracked her brother down and confronted him, would he tell her the truth?
The idea circled as she finished breakfast.
She drove straight to the community center and found Kimberly in an empty exam room. Her eyes narrowed at Delilah’s uneven gait. “Why are you limping?”
“I twisted my ankle. Doesn’t hurt too badly this morning, so I’m pretty sure it’s not sprained.” She hopped up on the exam table.
Kimberly folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”
“I tried to find my family, but they’ve moved again. Any guesses where they’ve gone this time?”
“Sweetie, you know they’ve never followed a pattern. That would defeat the whole purpose.”
“I know, but I was hoping maybe you’d heard something.”
Kimberly made a “go on” gesture, and Delilah huffed out a breath. “Someone cut the brake lines on my truck, and when I tried to walk home, I twisted my ankle. Officer Tanner was in the area, so he took me home. Then he and a couple of other FWC officers fixed the truck this morning.”
Kimberly’s eyebrows rose to her hairline, and a slow grin spread across her face. “Really?” she said, drawing out the word. “You could do worse than having a hunky FWC officer looking out for you, girl.” She sobered abruptly. “Do you think Aaron cut the brake lines?”
“It’s the less scary of the two possibilities.” She hesitated before she told Kimberly about the threatening note and bullet left on the truck.
Kimberly planted both hands on her hips. “And what exactly is Officer Tanner doing about all this?”
“He offered to have me stay with his sister. And told me to be really careful. Which means…” She shook her head. “I have no idea what that means.”
“It means he’s concerned about you. So am I.” Kimberly started pacing. “I think you need to track Aaron down and get the truth out of him.” She stopped. “Have you checked all the hidey-holes your family has used in the past?”