Liam stood on the opposite side of the bed. “We owe you. You came here to protect Rae, didn’t you?”
He nodded but appeared too weak to elaborate.
“Rest now,” Ivan said. “Save your strength. I have no idea how long we’ll have to wait out this storm.”
Rae stood in the doorway hugging herself.
“At first, I thought you were the one who drugged me,” she said to Ivan. “When I woke up here, I remembered that you’d given me a protein bar, which I ate right before I started feeling funny. But then I found Wayne in the cabin, and I remembered that he’d given me a bottled water. He brought me here. I heard him telling someone on the phone that he was done moving cargo and doing the man’s dirty work. It sounded like he’d been blackmailed.”
“We figured some of it out,” Liam said.
“Ivan told me that Zoey is safe.” But the fear in her eyes remained.
Liam slowly approached and took her in his arms. “It’s going to be okay. It’s over, Rae. This time it’s over, once and for all.” Liam would never have to save Rae from Malcom Fox’s grip again.
As he held her, relief infused him. Rae had survived and was no longer in danger. Zoey was safe now too. Nothing else mattered.
But Liam couldn’t help himself. A new fear rose up in him.
Realization dawned—without Rae, Liam was lost.
He feared that Rae would go back to her world and leave him here alone in his.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
Monday, 8:45 p.m.
Jackson Hole Mountain Ski Lodge
Maybe I can live up to your reputation, after all, Dad.
Rae sat at a small desk in a room at the same resort she’d checked in to when she’d first arrived in Jackson Hole and documented the events as she remembered them. Now that she was no longer in danger of someone breaking into her room, she had no good reason to remain at the ranch. Staying in town seemed like the right move.
After the debacle of the break-in and the resulting ransacked room, the manager had been only too happy to offer her a room at no cost. A deputy had dropped Rae off here after another visit to the Bridger County Sheriff’s Office to give her statement and answer questions asked by multiple agencies involved in the task force to unravel Malcom’s intricate trafficking scheme.
Fortunately for Liam, Brad had already been cleared. He hadn’t been connected with the plans his main investors—Enzo Astor and Devon Winters, aka Malcom Fox—had made to take advantage of the new ski resort. Those plans included using the shell company that Enzo Astor had created for another protective layer to launder money earned from their exclusive sex trafficking scheme.
Rae debated whether to write the travel article, but she couldn’t even attempt it until she’d poured every ounce of her sordid experiences onto the page. This story could land her a coveted position or open more freelance doors. Except finding Zoey hadn’t been about a story. She couldn’t do that to Zoey or her brother. Still, parts of it could be extrapolated for an article about Malcom Fox and Enzo and Simon Astor, and she hoped it would lead to freeing those already caught in the trafficking net. Fox’s dark web operations were being dismantled, thanks to Zoey’s extensive knowledge about his organization. Enzo Astor’s properties had been raided, and he’d been taken into custody.
Zoey remained at the heart of this story.
She was in deep water with the government, though the extenuating circumstances regarding Simon Astor’s stalking were being considered. Alan told Rae the feds would likely work with Zoey and use her skills for their own purposes. Rae hoped that was true—for Alan’s and Callie’s sakes as well.
At least they were all out of harm’s way.
Rae continued typing her thoughts until she finally came to the man who had never been far from her mind. She’d been avoiding this moment when she had to face Liam McKade. Face him on this page as she typed, face him in her heart and mind.
Their relationship had ended in the worst possible way before, and it could have ended tragically this time. What else could she think but that her presence in Liam’s life was dangerous to him?
That would no longer be an issue though. Her flight left tomorrow morning, and she honestly wasn’t sure she wanted to see him again, even if only to say goodbye. She didn’t want to hurt him again. The irony was that she would be hurt if he didn’t try to see her before she left. He was the reason for her crazy, foolish heart.
Relationships were painful. Could end in tragedy. Even Zoey and Alan’s relationship teetered on a precarious ledge—but Rae had no doubt their love would weather the coming storms. Their relationship was an example to her, though the commitment Zoey and Alan shared was rare indeed.
Rae closed her eyes and thought about her parents’ relationship. She had idolized her father, but for all his brilliance, he had his flaws. Her father had told her it was his responsibility to speak up. “Don’t keep silent,” he’d said. But his family paid the price for his efforts. Missed birthdays and anniversaries. Fear and worry that his endeavors would get him killed. Mom had planned to divorce him before his death. If he had known that he was about to lose his family, would he have left that dangerous war-zone journalism to someone else?
As for Rae, in the past, she’d given Liam up for her story. True, she’d saved Dina’s life, and she wouldn’t change that. But she’d suffered the emptiness, the loneliness, when she’d lost Liam. It scared her to death to consider how much she loved him. She couldn’t take that heartbreak again and might prefer to suffer through being alone.
A knock came at the door, startling her. Her pulse jumped. “Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
Liam.
Moisture bloomed on her palms as she walked to the door and opened it. Liam, in a Stetson, filled her vision. She’d never seen him in a cowboy hat, and for that she was glad, because the sight made her entirely too unsteady on her legs. Rae leaned against the door for support. Longing twisted his features as her heart skated around inside, searching for an escape. Liam’s brown eyes took her in, and that one simple look left her breathless.
“Well, aren’t you going to ask me in?” His husky voice held hope and fear all tangled up together.
If I can find my breath. “Sure.” Still clinging to the sturdy frame, she opened the door wider.
He stepped inside, his subtle cologne, mixed with evergreens and mountain air, wrapped around her. She shut the door and expected him to take a seat, but he remained where he stood, inches from her.
“You did it again, Liam. You stood between me and a bullet. But this time . . .”
“It all turned out differently.”
Could that mean that this time—for Liam and Rae—things could turn out differently as well?
“Because things happen for a reason,” he said, taking a step closer. “What’s next for us?”
Powerful emotions swirled in his eyes.
Rae fought to breathe. She struggled to find her voice. “Is there an ‘us,’ Liam?”
He lifted a strand of her hair. “I’m going to be honest. Your response kind of hurts. After everything we’ve been through, I thought there was definitely an us.”
Rae had thought the same thing the last time, but back then he didn’t want anything to do with her. He thought she’d used him. He took yet another bold step forward, close enough to gently catch her waist. “Before you showed up, I struggled to know where I belonged. I didn’t think I fit in anywhere. Not the DEA. Not at Emerald M, maybe not even in this valley. This wasn’t my home.”
His words weren’t what she’d expected to hear. “What are you saying?”
A half grin hitched his cheeks, along with those dimples.
He inched forward, his face drawing near as he offered that same invitation he’d offered under the stars on that cold night when he’d blocked her path. And now, just like then, Rae was powerless to resist. She closed th
e distance and pressed her lips against his. All her fears melted away, and this time, she wrapped her arms around him fully. She allowed him to kiss her thoroughly, and she kissed him back. Rae let the raw emotions she’d held back for so long finally flow from her. She let her heart dance with his until they were both breathless. He eased away enough to whisper against her lips.
“I finally found my home, Rae. It’s with you. You’re my home. Let’s make a home together. Be husband and wife.”
She backed away and pressed against the wall. She loved him, but this? A proposal? “I’m dangerous for you, Liam. I’d be dangerous to your heart too. I have to go after the stories.” I don’t want to hurt you again. I don’t want to be hurt again.
“I know you want that Pulitzer Prize like your father, Rae.” He pinned her with his intense, dark gaze. “I wouldn’t deny you that. Tell me now that you don’t love me and you don’t want me, and I’ll go. You’ll never have to see me again.”
Heart pounding, Rae closed her eyes. Tears spilled out the corners, then she opened them. “I love you, Liam. I’m just scared.”
He laughed. “You go into dangerous places, Rae, and you’re scared of me?”
“I’m scared of the pain that loving someone can bring.” Rae let herself smile a little.
“I know that pain, and I’m scared of it too, but I also know that I couldn’t bear to lose you again. I finally realized what was causing this ache inside, this feeling that I don’t belong anywhere—I missed being with you. I guess the question is, do you feel the same way? I hope so, because I don’t want to lose you.”
Liam had somehow known the exact words to tug at her heartstrings and reel her in. She could never walk away from him. Not this time. “Then don’t lose me. Always keep me close.” Rae smiled and kissed him, feeling deep in her heart for the first time that if Dad were still alive, she might have finally made him proud.
Acknowledgments
I owe so many amazing people a debt of gratitude for helping me get this book on the page.
As with every book, it seems I owe you, Jeff and Tina Moyers, my brother and sister-in-law, for your encouragement through the years. For your help with the unusual scenes.
Susan Sleeman—I couldn’t do this without your encouragement and your wealth of knowledge.
Crime scene writers’ group—to the many technical voices within the group for always stepping up to answer my countless questions.
J. Gary Vineyard—thanks for your patience with all my questions regarding the DEA!
Sharon Hinck—you’re a treasure and one of the deepest people I know.
Lisa Harris—you’re always there for me.
Proofreader (and my amazing daughter) Rachel Goddard—you’re awesome. I know you didn’t have much time on this, but you work well under pressure.
The Revell team—Lonnie Hull DuPont, I’m so glad you got to read this one too! Rachel McRae, I hope we get to make many more books together! Amy Ballor, I’m so grateful for your keen eyes! Michele Misiak and Karen Steele—you guys rock. To the art department—LOVE the covers.
My agent, Steve Laube—I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t taken me on.
My husband and children—thank you for giving me the freedom, the inspiration, and the encouragement to write novels!
To my Lord—it’s all for YOU. You are my All in All.
CHAPTER ONE
Chance Carter should have known this last delivery wouldn’t go down without a hitch.
A monstrous thunderhead had popped up in a clear morning sky and now loomed directly in his path as if forbidding, or at least challenging, his approach to his destination—a lone airstrip in Nowhere, Montana. As an experienced pilot and courier for an airfreight company, he wasn’t concerned with inclement weather as much as the troubled feeling in his chest, which he’d been trying to ignore since takeoff.
Given the cold, hard stone of unease that had settled in his gut, he’d failed miserably.
Earlier this morning, back at the FBO—fixed-based operator—the rhythm of his flight prep had seemed off. Excitement hadn’t pumped through his every movement, and the usual bounce to his step hadn’t accompanied him while he worked through his pre-flight checks. If that hadn’t been enough, dread had replaced the anticipation that always filled him as he readied to climb into the cockpit of his Piper Cherokee 235, which he affectionately called Ole Blue.
Now, as he neared the airstrip, he shook off the apprehension and grabbed on to the assurance from years of experience and thousands of hours spent piloting.
A good, strong headwind, which was preferred for landing, buffeted the plane. He took comfort in the familiar deafening roar of the Piper breaking through his headset and droning in his ears. He wanted to focus on nothing but landing, delivering, and escaping. But this trip carried him back, and the evergreens, the winding rivers, the meadows, the crops, and the majestic mountains captivated him, reminding him of all he’d left behind.
Gripping the yoke, he sat taller and shoved beyond the melancholy.
At seven miles from his destination, he switched tanks . . .
The noisy engine sputtered and then stalled.
Nothing he didn’t know how to handle. Chance would quickly remedy the situation. He trusted that forward movement and lift would propel Ole Blue along like an eagle riding in the wind long enough to give him ample time to restart the engine.
Only the engine failed to respond to his efforts. The fuel gauge indicated a fourth of a tank of fuel remained. He switched to the other tank and confirmed it was empty.
As if emphasizing his earlier presentiment, Ole Blue’s propeller slowed to a stop.
Silence filled the cockpit. Moments passed before the slow cadence of his heartbeat ramped up and roared to life in his ears. He’d rather hear the engine and propeller.
The plane remained in the air, gliding on the current. But not for long. Creating a controlled descent was up to Chance and the tools at his disposal. Sweat beading at his temples, his instincts took over as he maneuvered the rudder, flaps, and ailerons, steering the plane through the air currents to maintain lift as long as possible.
Chance had to face the truth. Ole Blue wouldn’t make it to the airstrip.
And those evergreens he’d admired moments before rushed at him now as the ground rose toward him, much faster than was safe.
He was going down.
Chance pressed the button on the yoke and squawked to a local frequency. “Mayday. Mayday. Mayday!” He detailed what he knew of the expected crash location, which wasn’t a lot.
He got no response. Nobody monitoring the frequency today in Nowhere, Montana. Just his luck.
Between evergreen-topped mountains, Ole Blue surfed along a ravine. Not a good place to land. He hoped for a clearing. Something.
Come on, come on, come on . . .
There. Between the trees, he caught sight of a forest road and aimed for it. It would be close. The trees were dense in places. Worst case, the wheels on his fixed-gear plane would catch the treetops and flip him forward. Dead or alive, he’d be stuck in the tops.
Come on, baby, you can do this.
Palms sweating, he squeezed the yoke. Continuing the mantra in his head, he willed Ole Blue to stay in the air just a little longer. When he’d proclaimed today was his last delivery, he hadn’t meant that to be a literal prophecy.
He mentally shook his fist at God. You hear that? I didn’t mean I wanted to die today. I just meant I’m done doing what I do.
A thousand thoughts blew through his mind at once, not the least of which was that if he made it, if he survived, he’d have to file a crash report with the FAA. He was only supposed to take his flight bag from the crash site, but he’d have to make an exception this time and remove the package he was supposed to deliver.
The treetops reached up for Ole Blue, their lofty trunks and branches growing taller as if they wou
ld stretch to catch the plane’s wheels. The Piper shuddered and vibrated. Chance held his breath, working the yoke until, finally, he maneuvered above the narrow road.
Lower, lower, lower . . .
The wheels touched the road, and the plane bounced hard.
Trees closed in on the narrowing road. Chance braced himself. The wingtips caught the trees. The sound of metal twisting and ripping vibrated through him as the tin can protecting him shook and rattled. The impact shattered the window and catapulted what was left of his plane, and Chance’s body was flung like a rag doll despite the shoulder harness. Ole Blue slammed against a tree on the passenger side, crumpling the only door. Chance’s head hit the yoke handle. Thunder ignited in his temples as pain throbbed across his chest.
But the plane had stopped. Finally . . .
Seconds ticked by. He drew in a few shuddering, painful breaths. Allowed his heart rate to slow.
Chance assessed his injuries. He could move his legs and arms. Maybe he had a few broken ribs. He touched his forehead and felt the warm, sticky fluid. Blood covered his fingertips. He stared at the tree branch protruding through the shattered window, caught a whiff of pine from the needles, and tried to grasp the near miss. He could have been skewered. That was only one of many possible fatal injuries that could have occurred. How . . . How had he survived?
He wouldn’t waste time questioning Providence. For the moment, he was alive. But for how much longer?
And trusty Ole Blue was gone for good. Myriad emotions—anger, fear, grief—seized him all at once. His pulse raced again as dizziness swept over him.
He fought the darkness edging his vision.
Why had he harbored an ounce of hope that he would be able to walk away from this unscathed? He wished he hadn’t broken his one rule and looked at the contents of that package.
If he wasn’t able to deliver it, he was as good as dead anyway.
Elizabeth Goddard has sold over one million books and is the award-winning author of more than forty romance novels and counting, including the romantic mystery The Camera Never Lies—a 2011 Carol Award winner. She is a Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery and Suspense finalist for her Mountain Cove series—Buried, Backfire, and Deception—and a Carol Award finalist for Submerged. When she’s not writing, she loves spending time with her family, traveling to find inspiration for her next book, and serving with her husband in ministry. For more information about her books, visit her website at www.ElizabethGoddard.com.
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