Deadly Hunt

by Margaret Daley

  Again that connection sprang up between them, and she wanted to deny it. She didn't want to be responsible for anyone in her personal life. She had enough of that in her professional life. Her trips to the cabin were the only time she was able to let go of the stress and tension that were so much a part of her life. She stifled a sigh. It wasn't like he'd asked to be shot. "Do you want some acetaminophen?"

  "Acetaminophen? That's like throwing a glass of water on a forest fire." He cocked a grin that fell almost instantly. "But I guess I should try."

  "Good."

  She delved into her first aid kit and produced the bottle of painkillers. After shaking a few into her palm, she gave them to him and again helped him to sip some water. The continual close contact with him played havoc with her senses. Usually she managed to keep her distance—at least emotionally—from her clients and others, but this whole situation was forcing her out of her comfort zone and much closer to him than she was used to.

  After he swallowed the pills, she stood and stepped back. "I'd better get started on that soup. It's a little harder up here to make it than at home."

  "Are you from Phoenix?"

  "Dallas. I come to this cabin every fall and spring, if possible." She crossed to the fireplace, squatted by the logs and began to build a fire. It would be cold once the sun set, so even if she weren't going to fix soup, she would've made a fire to keep them warm.

  "Why? This isn't the Ritz."

  "I like to get totally away from civilization."

  "You've succeeded."

  "Why were you hiking up here? Do you have a campsite nearby? Maybe someone's looking for you—someone I can search for tomorrow." Once the fire started going, she found the iron pot and slipped it on the hook that would swing over the blaze.

  "No, I came alone. I like to get away from it all, too. Take photographs."

  "Where's your camera?" Where's your wallet and your driver's license?

  "It's all still fuzzy. I think my backpack with my satellite phone and camera went over the cliff when I fell. A ledge broke my fall."

  He'd fallen from a cliff? That explanation sent all her alarms blaring. Tess filled the pot with purified water from the container she'd stocked yesterday and dumped some chicken noodle soup from a packet into it. "How did you get shot?" she asked, glancing back to make sure he was awake.

  His dark eyebrows slashed downward. "I'm not sure. I think a hunter mistook me for a deer."

  "A deer?" Not likely.

  "I saw two hunters earlier yesterday. One minute I was standing near a cliff enjoying the gorgeous view of the sunset, the next minute..." His frown deepened. "I woke up on a ledge a few feet from the cliff I had been standing on, so I guess I fell over the edge. It was getting dark, but I could still see the blood on the rock where I must have hit my head and my leg felt on fire."

  "You dragged yourself up from the ledge and somehow made it here?"

  "Yes."

  She whistled. "You're mighty determined."

  "I have a teenage daughter at home. I'm a single dad. I had no choice." Determination glinted in his eyes, almost persuading her he was telling the truth. But what if it was all a lie? She couldn't risk believing him without proof. For all she knew, he was a criminal, and she was in danger.

  "Okay, so you think a hunter mistakenly shot you. Are you sure about that? Why would he leave you to die?"

  "Maybe he didn't realize what he'd done? Maybe his shot ricocheted off the rock and hit me? I don't know." He scrubbed his hand across his forehead. "What other explanation would there be?"

  You're lying to me. She couldn't shake the thought.

  "Someone wanted to kill you."

  Chapter Two

  "Kill me?" Shane asked, his mind muddled by the question. The very thought was too much for him to take in. "Why?"

  "Have you angered anyone lately?" The woman pushed her auburn hair away from her face and poked at the fire.

  When he didn't say anything, she turned from the blaze and faced him.

  "I run a company," he said, "so I suppose there are people who aren't too happy with some of my decisions. But to murder me?" He shook his head once and instantly realized his mistake when the room swirled before him. He closed his eyes and waited for the room to stop spinning, then asked, "Why do you say that?"

  "What kind of business do you run?"

  "Digital Drive, Inc."

  Tess whistled. "A company? DDI is a big corporation, so I would say you could have definitely made some people unhappy. DDI is way ahead of its competition, and that might not set well with some of them."

  His company was number one in its area, but there were three others not that far behind. He rubbed his forehead, wishing he could massage the pounding away as he tried to wrap his mind around the fact someone might have deliberately shot him and left him for dead. The realization escalated the hammering against his skull. When he reconnected visually with Tess, concern dulled her vibrant green eyes.

  "You don't have to play Superman for my benefit. I do know a gunshot wound hurts as does a concussion."

  He blinked. "You sound like you've had personal experience."

  "I was shot once and have suffered two concussions."

  "You!"

  "I got in the way of a bullet meant for someone else, but in my line of work, that can be a hazard of the job."

  "What do you do?"

  "I work for a security agency in Dallas. I'm a bodyguard—usually for people who don't want to call attention to the fact they need one. I have protected female clients, but guarding children is my specialty."

  He looked her up and down, noting her small frame, and couldn't believe what she'd just said. She wasn't what most men would consider a beauty, but her mass of reddish brown hair that she had tamed enough to put into a ponytail and her crystal clear eyes that spoke of her straightforwardness were appealing. "I've never met a bodyguard."

  "Not that I want a job, but you might need the services of one when you get back to Phoenix." She backhanded a wispy curl from her face. Her creamy complexion was dotted with a few freckles across the bridge of her nose.

  "So you think someone is trying to murder me?"

  "Yes." Tess swung toward the fireplace and removed the iron pot from the hook. "Mmm. This actually smells good, but then I haven't eaten much today."

  The scent of chicken noodle soup spiced the air, laced with an earthy odor, but its aroma—or more likely the fact that he might have someone trying to kill him—roiled his stomach. "I'm not very hungry."

  She ladled some liquid into another tin cup while steam wafted toward the ceiling. "Try to get some down. You need your strength. My uncle isn't supposed to join me for several days, and either you'll have to hike down the mountain with me or I'll have to leave you alone for most of the day to get you some help."

  "I vote for the second option."

  When she smiled at him, the warmth of it reached into the ice he'd packed around his heart years ago. He looked away, but she approached, and her steps eroded more than distance between them. "I agree, but I don't want to leave you alone until I know you can make it without me around." She sat cross-legged near him on the floor while he lay on the sleeping bag. "And I want to check out the area for your—hunters. You wouldn't want them paying you a visit here."

  The more he thought about it the more he had to acknowledge Tess was probably right about someone wanting him dead. Although he didn't remember exactly what happened, it was unlikely a hunter had pulled the trigger. He'd rather be cautious than ignore her warnings and be murdered.

  So who knew he was going hiking in the mountains? It had been a sudden decision. At work his executive assistant, Diane Flood, was the only one he'd told. She'd been with him from the beginning. It couldn't have been her. But perhaps she'd told someone. His whereabouts wasn't a state secret. Plus, he usually came to this area of wilderness when he wanted to be alone, and a lot of people knew that. And even if someone hadn't known where he was going, it
would've been easy to follow him. It wasn't like he'd been looking for a tail.

  And what was he even thinking, worried about having been tailed? This wasn't his life.

  Which brought him back to the question: who wanted him dead? A few rivals popped into his mind. His business could be cutthroat at times, but would any of them resort to murdering the competition? He pictured two of them, Anthony Revell and Mark Collins. Anthony's main offices were in Phoenix. Mark worked out of Los Angeles but often visited his offices in Phoenix. He hadn't made an offer to merge with the company Shane wanted in order to expand DDI's share of the market, but Shane wouldn't be surprised if he did. Neither Anthony nor Mark wanted Shane to succeed with the merger with Virtual Technologies.

  "I'm going to lift you up." Tess's husky voice pierced his thoughts. "That way you can drink your soup."

  The softness of her touch belied the very idea she protected people for a living. A warm flush infused his face at her nearness. Ever since his wife had died four years ago, he'd kept his distance from women, wanting nothing to do with a casual relationship, while they had thrown themselves at him. They'd seen an unattached rich man, ripe for the picking. He was thankful that his work had given him the direction he'd needed at a terrible time in his life.

  While Tess supported his back, he took the cup and tried to bring it to his lips. His arms trembled so much she reached around and stabilized his hands by covering them with hers. Her warmth against them sucked the breath from his lungs until he determinedly shut down his reaction to her.

  I'm just grateful, tired and weak. She saved my life. That's all there is. All? He scuffed at the direction of his thoughts. This was a big deal. He made it a point not to depend on anyone. However now, he had no choice but to depend on Tess Miller.

  If she hadn't been holding the cup, too, he would have dropped it and scalded himself. Frustration burned a hole into his gut. "I should be able to feed myself," he muttered and let her lift the tin cup to his lips.

  "And you will as soon as you get your strength back. This will help."

  After several cautious sips, Shane sagged back against her completely, but she still supported his weight. Exhaustion hovered at the edges of his mind, tugging at him. "I appreciate...what you've done for me."

  "You're welcome. More?"

  He gave a slight nod and drank the soup, the warm liquid sliding down his throat as his eyelids closed. "I think...that's all."

  Sleep descended quickly and whisked him into the blackness.

  #

  After Tess finished eating her own soup, she strode outside with her binoculars and both weapons. Nothing he'd told her had calmed the alarm bells going off in her mind. She didn't like unsolved gunshot wounds, and she couldn't shake the feeling someone was out there watching them waiting for the right moment. But all she saw were oaks, junipers and pinion pines blanketing the landscape, their scent hanging on the light breeze that blew wisps of her hair about her face.

  She'd learned in her line of work to be cautious and slightly paranoid. She circled the cabin and the small area where it perched on a cliff at one end of a high country ridge then headed back to the cabin. The sun behind her started its descent toward the horizon. When she reached the door, the hairs on her nape tingled. Again, the feeling of being watched crawled up her spine. She swept one last look over the landscape before going inside.

  With a glance toward the sleeping Shane, she quickly crossed the room and withdrew extra ammunition from the locked cabinet and stuffed it into her jeans pocket. If someone were out there, she would be ready for him. After talking with Shane, she had no doubt she needed to carry both of her weapons at all times.

  There had been a time when she'd been passive, waiting for life to happen around her. Not anymore, thanks to Uncle Jack. She no longer ran from life or any type of situation, whether dangerous or not.

  "Going hunting?"

  She whirled around at the sound of Shane's voice, the shotgun grasped in front of her like a shield. "No."

  "Then why that?" His gaze veered to the gun, a frown wrinkling his forehead. "Is there some kind of trouble outside?"

  I think we're being watched. "Just getting prepared."

  "Because you think someone's after me?"

  She nodded, seeing the realization in his eyes. "And I think you see the possibility now, too."

  "I want to believe it was a careless hunter, but I just can't any longer. Don't you think they're long gone by now? I did go over a cliff when I was shot."

  "What if the shooter had been where he couldn't get to you easily? You said it was late when it happened yesterday. Maybe he came back to make sure you were dead. Maybe he followed your trail. It was easy enough for me to find which direction you came from."

  "I guess that's a possibility. DDI is close to introducing a revolutionary microchip as well as merging with another company. Let's just say a couple of my competitors would like to beat me to the punch and stop me from strengthening my position in the marketplace."

  "How did you find this cabin?"

  "I saw smoke. I followed it." He shifted in the sleeping bag and winced.

  If he did, so could the person after him, even if some of the rocky terrain obscured Shane's path part of the way. "Do you want some more pain medicine?"

  "No, but I could use a drink of water."

  She poured some into the tin cup and gave it to him. His hand shook as he drank, but she let him do it by himself. She sensed he needed to feel he could do it himself.

  "Thanks." He again adjusted his body, trying to make himself more comfortable on the hard floor.

  "I think it's safe enough to move you to the cot if we take it slow and easy." Tess took the cup from him and set it on the table next to the shotgun.

  He glanced at the cot a few feet away against the wall. "I'm in your hands."

  Tess didn't respond. What she wanted to tell him was that she wasn't responsible for him or anybody. And yet, she was, and there was no way she could deny it.

  She positioned herself behind him, squatted and locked her arms around his chest. "Okay. On the count of three help me as much as you can. One. Two. Three."

  Aware of the gunshot wound, she carefully hoisted him from the floor. A groan escaped his lips. When he stood, she supported his weight while he slung his arm over her shoulder. She clasped him from his left side so he wouldn't use that leg.

  When he lay on the bunk, he trembled. She covered him with an extra blanket that Uncle Jack kept at the cabin. But before she could straighten and step away from Shane, he captured her wrist and held her close in a surprisingly tight clasp for someone in such a weakened state.

  "Thanks. I've been saying that a lot lately, but I would have probably died if you hadn't been here."

  Again, wanting to deny his words, she looked at his face and saw red tinting his cheeks. Listening to him panting after that small exertion, she knew he wouldn't be walking out of the mountains anytime soon. "It was nothing," she finally said and pulled away, his grasp loosening immediately.

  He let go of her wrist. "Nothing? I could argue that with you, but it would take too much effort."

  "I'm doing what has to be done. Anyone would have."

  "Perhaps." His slate gray gaze fused with hers. "Do you always have such a hard time accepting a compliment?" He swiped away the beads of sweat on his forehead, his arm thumping against the canvas of the cot as it dropped back to his side.

  "I couldn't let you die." She put a few feet between them. She needed to think of this man as a client, someone to protect. Or a criminal evading the police or other criminals. She only had his word that he was who he said he was. She didn't know what Shane Burkhart looked like. Either way, she needed to don her professional façade.

  "Don't shortchange yourself, and I'll ignore the fact you didn't answer my question." He licked his lips. "Can I have some more water?"

  When she scooped some out of the container, she noticed she was running low. She frowned as she st
ared at the few inches of water left in the pot.

  "What's wrong, Tess?"

  When he said her name, it felt almost like a caress, and her heartbeat accelerated. She quickly squashed any kind of reaction to his smoky timbre. "I'll need to go get some more water at the spring. I think we have enough for this evening, but first thing tomorrow morning, we'll need more."

  When she gave him the cup, his fingers, warm against her skin, brushed over hers and sent goose bumps zipping up her arm. She quickly withdrew a few feet.

  He downed the liquid. "I never drink this much water." He lost his grasp of the empty cup, and it clanged against the floor.

  "Obviously, your body needs it." She stooped to pick the cup up. Her gaze connected to his for a moment before his eyelids closed. He seemed to be fighting to stay awake.

  When she studied his face, she glimpsed the paleness beneath the flush to his cheeks. She neared him and grazed her fingertips across his forehead. His skin was on fire, and she snatched her hand back, fear taking hold.

  He had a fever, a complication she had hoped to avoid. But she realized that had been a pipe dream. When she'd cleaned his wounds, they'd been filled with dirt matted in the blood around the edges as well as embedded in the injuries.

  With a glance at the container of water on the table, she sighed and grabbed her shotgun and flashlight then the handle on the plastic jug. She had to go to the spring. She needed to get water now.

  She gave him one quick look, then left, heading behind the cabin and down the slope. The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees as dusk settled over the landscape. She needed to hurry. Even with a flashlight, it wasn't safe traversing out here in the dark. The uneven terrain and sheer cliffs heightened the danger she felt. This far from civilization, there were bears and mountain lions. And most likely a murderer.

  At the spring, she clicked on her flashlight to illuminate the path back to the cabin, dark from the overhanging branches of the trees around the area. She quickly scooped up enough water to fill the plastic gallon jug, twisted the cap on tight, and then turned to make her way back. Her foot caught on a rock, and she fell onto her knees. Pain shot up her legs from the hard impact with the ground. She took two breaths and tried to exhale her fear.