Daddy to the Rescue

by Susan Kearney

  He owed her a truthful response, but he had no idea what he might face when he returned to Logan’s camp. His use of stealth might be totally unnecessary, but he preferred to remain cautious, with Sara’s and Abby’s lives at stake.

  “You can keep the weapon and my pack. I’ll travel faster light.”

  “And what should I do if you don’t come back?”

  She’d asked the question calmly, but he could hear the underlying fear in her tone. And if her voice hadn’t told him of her concern for his safety, the way she bravely lifted her chin and squared her shoulders would have. He could tell her there was no cause for worry, but he wouldn’t lie to her.

  “I have every intention of coming back—but if I can’t, go to Logan Kincaid.”

  “We haven’t heard from him since the aborted helicopter pickup.”

  “Exactly. He’s waiting for us to come out, and giving us every opportunity to do it by ourselves—which is the safest way possible.”

  “I’m not sure I follow…”

  “If he used the radio to call us, others could listen in and locate us. If he sent up the chopper to search, he could clue in anyone watching him to our location and put us in more danger.”

  “You’re saying that he’s helping us—”

  “By letting me get you out.” Kirk liked the confidence Logan displayed by patiently waiting for him to bring Abby and Sara to safety. Logan had earned his respect—if not his complete trust—but that end of the operation could have been compromised through no fault of the Shey Group. “So even if I accidentally bump into Logan’s men, I won’t need a gun.”

  “You’re willing to risk your life, but not ours?”

  “I’m just being careful. If Logan wanted you, he wouldn’t have brought me into the mix. But someone could be watching Logan’s camp, expecting me to bring you in.”

  “So you’re just being careful?”

  “Yes. And Abby needs those diapers. If we have to steal the chopper, I’d like her quiet. Is there anything else you need?”

  She shook her head. “Just come back, soon.”

  KIRK HAD LEFT PEPPER with Sara and Abby. The dog played with the baby on the blanket Sara had floated over the snow. Sara marveled at Abby’s ability to adapt. Her daughter didn’t seem to mind the cold, the lack of her usual toys or her new wintry surroundings. As long as her daughter had Pepper and Sara, she was happy, reminding Sara of Abby’s oh-so-adaptable father. Kirk thrived in survival mode, thinking on his feet and adjusting to the situation with instincts that often saved lives.

  Although concern over Kirk sneaking into and out of Logan’s camp niggled, Sara forced herself to rest. A body and mind could take only so much stress before adjusting to danger. Sara sprawled on the blanket and enjoyed Abby’s repeated attempts to pull herself to her feet and take a few steps before falling on her bottom. Laughing. And making the attempt all over again.

  “Dog. Dog. Dog!” Abby squealed.

  Sara gazed at her daughter fondly, but after Pepper stood and growled low in her throat, her hackles rising, Sara swept Abby into her arms. The dog hadn’t snarled at the baby; she was looking at the mountain. What had alarmed Pepper?

  “Dog. Dog.” Abby clapped her hands together with glee, then pointed.

  It wasn’t dogs, but wolves—three of them—stalking toward them, and Sara’s blood chilled. Holding Abby tightly, Sara lunged for Kirk’s pack and the gun he had left behind.

  She dug awkwardly with one hand past the first aid kit and radio. Finally her fingers closed around the weapon. She yanked the gun out, but in her haste and fear, she dropped it in the snow.

  The wolves were closing in. She had to pick up the gun.

  Bending clumsily as she held Abby, Sara retrieved the snow-covered weapon while keeping her eyes on the approaching wolves.

  These animals, wild and scrawny enough for their ribs to stick out, fanned into attack position, hostile and hungry. A multitude of growls challenged and taunted Pepper. The German shepherd responded by placing herself protectively between the wolves and Sara and Abby. Pepper’s attitude couldn’t have been more clear. To get to Sara and the baby, the wolves would have to go through her.

  Pepper, larger and healthier than the wolves, was nonetheless outnumbered three to one. She faced the wild wolves, barking and growling sharp warnings.

  At Pepper’s noise, the wolves hesitated. Sara fumbled with the gun, then pulled the trigger.

  The gun jammed.

  As if sensing weakness, the wolves attacked Pepper, snapping, biting, circling. The dog gave as good as she got.

  Hearing the ferocious fighting, Abby realized something was wrong and started to scream. At the sound of her cries, the wolves backed off, licked the insignificant wounds Pepper had inflicted and seemed to reconsider their strategy. But their eyes never once glanced away from their prey.

  Sara didn’t want to take her gaze off the wolves, either, fearing they might take her looking away as a sign of cowardice, encouragement to attack. But she had to clear the snow from the gun—not an easy thing to do while holding the baby. However, no way would she put Abby down within reach of those vicious teeth.

  Mittens hampered her movements and she wasted precious seconds to pull them off. In that moment, the wolves decided that Abby’s noise wasn’t a factor. And attacked again. They charged as a unit.

  Valiantly, Pepper fought, her jaws snapping and chewing, her legs jumping and twisting in movements so fast that she blurred. And again the wolves retreated, panting and bloody, but by no means giving up. Pepper licked at a trickle of blood running down her leg, but she didn’t lower her guard, remaining between her people and the pack.

  Sara frantically brushed the snow from the gun and blew air into the chamber, hoping to clear the excess moisture and ice.

  “Come on. Come on. Come on.” She aimed the gun in the direction of the wolves. And fired.

  Abby screamed at the loud bang. Sara squeezed the trigger again.

  At the gunshots, the wolves retreated, melting into the trees. But Sara could not be sure they wouldn’t be back. She needed to build a fire. But she couldn’t carry wood and Abby, too. And no way was she putting the screaming baby down.

  Sara was trembling so hard she could barely hold the gun and feared she might drop Abby. She slipped on the gun’s safety and called Pepper back to the blanket. The dog licked the baby’s tears, and Abby went from crying to smiling in less than five seconds.

  Sara wished she could so easily put the scary incident behind her. She rocked Abby in her lap, petted Pepper. “Good dog.”

  Sara knew she should tend to the dog’s injury. Kirk had left a first aid kit in his pack. But she couldn’t stop trembling and the dog’s injury didn’t look serious. Pepper set about cleaning her wound with her tongue while Abby watched in fascination.

  Sara’s trembling wouldn’t stop. Those wolves could have killed them. If Pepper hadn’t protected them, if the gun hadn’t finally worked, they might be wolf dinner right about now. And it would have been her fault. For not keeping better watch, for relaxing and letting down her guard, for dropping the gun in the snow.

  She didn’t belong in the woods. She hated her inability to control this wild environment—much preferred her office where she controlled every keystroke, where surprises weren’t deadly, where logic ruled. Out here, she never knew what to expect next, and the strain made her feel damn incompetent.

  She hugged Abby, grateful she was okay, and uncontrollable tears of relief streamed from Sara’s eyes and down her cheeks. Angry at her inability to restrain her slowly subsiding panic, she sniffled, determined to get herself back under control. But the sobs inside her had a will of their own. As if summoned by the wolves’ departure, grief racked her.

  And that’s how Kirk found her, sitting and crying and holding Abby, while Pepper snuggled next to them. Kirk hurried to them, his gaze taking in Pepper’s injury, the tracks, the wolves’ blood in the snow.

  He settled next to her
on the blanket, lifted Abby into the crook of his arm and held Sara close with the other. “I heard your gunshots. Are you all right?”

  “I want to go home.” Her words came out in a sob. “I don’t belong out here in the woods. I almost got us killed. When the wolves attacked, I dropped the gun in the snow and it jammed. If Pepper hadn’t… Is she okay?”

  “Looks like a scratch. I’ll clean and bandage her wound later. Right now, I’m more concerned about you and Abby. I brought diapers.”

  She brushed away the tears. “Any trouble?”

  Kirk frowned. “It was too easy. Almost as if Logan knew I was coming and had cleared the route.”

  She hiccuped and leaned into Kirk, grateful for his warmth and strength and support. Not only did he help her keep the panic at bay, but he would never make fun of her weakness. He never berated her when she made the wrong decisions. He would never blame her for dropping the gun and almost getting them killed. In fact, he was gazing down at her with adoration and pride, looking just as handsome as he had wearing his dress uniform in their wedding pictures.

  His eyes gleamed with kindness, and she swallowed back more tears. “Why are you looking at me like that? I fell apart. I’m no good out here.”

  He raised one skeptical eyebrow. “Oh, really? I don’t know another woman who could start a fire with baby diapers and her computer.”

  “I had no choice.”

  “Or a woman who could build a snow hut in a blizzard.”

  “The Inuit have built igloos for the past ten thousand years. I wouldn’t consider my little hut a major accomplishment.”

  “And you may have dropped the gun, but you didn’t run stupidly in fear.”

  “I wanted to run.”

  “But you didn’t—which would most certainly have gotten you hurt.”

  “I panicked.”

  “You got the gun working in time.”

  “Barely.”

  “You stayed and faced down the wolves.”

  “Then I fell apart.”

  “Not until after the crisis had passed. You didn’t just do good. You did real, real good.”

  His words didn’t comfort her much, not when she realized how close she and their daughter had come, once again, to dying. “I was so scared.”

  “You’d have to be an idiot not to be scared.”

  He placed the baby on his lap, dug into his pack, removed a tissue and held it to Sara’s nose so she wouldn’t have to remove her mittens again.

  “Blow.”

  He wiped her nose as if she were Abby—not a grown woman. And she liked letting him take care of her. Liked knowing that he would protect Abby and that she could rely on him to ensure their safety. Sara had never imagined that caring for Abby would include fighting off wolves or surviving plane crashes or mountain storms.

  Right now, Sara needed Kirk, but she didn’t want to depend on him. She’d known that being a single mother would make enormous demands on her time and emotions. But while she hadn’t expected loving her baby to be so rewarding, she hadn’t been prepared for so many failures.

  She’d almost gotten her baby killed—several times. That Kirk didn’t blame her didn’t change the facts. Raising her daughter had turned into a challenge she wasn’t sure she’d had the right to take by herself. It was bad enough that she’d placed herself in danger, but she had no right to do that to her child.

  And as much as she wanted to depend on Kirk, she’d already gone that route. He couldn’t be the permanent solution to her problems. Not when she couldn’t count on him to be there tomorrow. Although she was beginning to believe that he wouldn’t re-up, the job offer with the Shey Group remained open. And the land of his ranch—merely leased. He could pack up and head for distant shores at any time.

  But she had him now, and watched him gently draw Abby near, lay her across his lap and change her diaper with an expertise that amazed her. He’d always been good with his hands. And he seemed to know just when to distract the baby so he could snap first her jammies shut and then her snowsuit back together. He also seemed to know that, at the moment, Sara was incapable of doing much more than watch him take care of their child.

  She had to get a grip.

  Gather her strength.

  But all she really wanted to do was stay at Kirk’s side and let him take charge of their safety. Sara didn’t want this life and death kind of responsibility, wasn’t qualified to make these kinds of decisions. Being on this mountain wasn’t anything like the computer war games she’d often played on the Internet. This was real. The results deadly.

  Gradually Sara’s sobs diminished. With her eyes red and puffy from crying, she must look like a wreck. But Abby, Kirk and Pepper didn’t seem to mind or even notice. Taking off her mittens, she threaded her fingers through her hair, trying to neaten her appearance.

  Kirk took out the first aid kit and tended to Pepper, who held surprisingly still while he applied antibiotic ointment. However, when he reached for the gauze to wrap her leg, she moved away a few steps. Clearly, she was familiar with gauze and didn’t want her leg wrapped.

  “Okay, girl,” Kirk agreed. “You’re going to be fine,” he told the dog in a reassuring voice meant to settle the injured animal.

  Sara suspected he also said the words to encourage her.

  Finally she pulled herself back together. Kirk waited until she’d calmed, then urged her onto her feet and back down the mountain, the way he’d come. As if sensing that just walking took all of her strength, he’d insisted on carrying Abby, who had gotten quite accustomed to her father. The baby smiled up at him, no longer the least bit shy or nervous around the huge man with the deep voice.

  Abby clapped her hands together. “Good dog.”

  “Very good dog,” he agreed. They looked back over his shoulder at Sara, who trailed behind. “I saw no one at the camp,” Kirk told her again. “Hopefully, we can go straight to the chopper. You can wait there while I find the pilot and convince him to fly us out.”

  “Suppose the pilot won’t cooperate?”

  Kirk’s voice turned grim. “I don’t intend to give him a choice.”

  They walked down the mountain without any more surprises. When they neared Logan’s camp, Kirk handed her the baby. He also removed the gun from his pack and placed the weapon in his jacket pocket. Kirk didn’t hide his action from her, but he didn’t comment, either.

  They circled the camp’s outskirts and saw no one. They heard voices from inside a large tent, as if Logan’s entire team had gathered inside. Maybe to eat? Or for a briefing?

  Beside her, Kirk spoke in a whisper. “I can’t believe they haven’t posted even one guard. Logan Kincaid is a lot of things, but he isn’t sloppy.”

  “Maybe he thinks we’re dead,” she suggested.

  “Then, why is he still here?”

  “You’re the expert. You tell me.”

  “I can’t. His operation is professional. All of his team—at least, those I’ve met or spoken with—seem top-notch. Yet he’s left this place wide open to us. Almost as if he expects us.”

  Kirk in front, they circled close to the helicopter that sat in a clearing. They would have to leave the cover of the forest to approach, and her pulse raced.

  Kirk motioned her to stay back among the trees. “Remain here while I check—”

  “We go together,” Sara insisted.

  “There is no reason to put you in danger. Let me—”

  “No.” Sara recalled the attacking wolves and was determined not to be left behind. “If something happens to you, we won’t stand a chance by ourselves. Right now, the safest place on this mountain is right behind you.”

  “Okay. Keep your voice down.”

  “Like there’s anyone around to hear?” The camp’s emptiness in broad daylight spooked her. So did the sight of the chopper sitting squarely in base camp—the same chopper that had fired on them back in the woods. How had the chopper gotten back here, and why did it appear as if it had never left?


  The sound of men’s voices coming from that tent didn’t reassure her. Once they made it to the chopper, Kirk had to find the pilot. “Convince” him to fly them out. And Kirk wouldn’t stand a chance against an armed group of men. He’d have to wait until he could get the pilot alone.

  Sara swallowed back her fear. She and Abby and Pepper might have to wait for hours alone in the chopper while Kirk scoured the camp for Jack Donovan. But she could shut the door against four-legged predators, she told herself in an attempt to boost her spirits.

  Kirk and Sara broke from the woods, Pepper at their side, and half walked, half loped to the chopper. No one from the tent seemed to notice. No guard called out. No dogs barked.

  Kirk opened the chopper door. Climbed one step. And a dark-haired man aimed a gun at Kirk’s temple.

  Chapter Ten

  “Welcome aboard.” Jack Donovan waved Kirk, Sara, Abby and Pepper inside the helicopter with his gun. “I’ve been expecting you.”

  Sara looked at Kirk with huge question marks in her eyes, but he had to give her credit; she didn’t panic. Didn’t say a word, letting him handle this situation as he saw fit. Sara had this uncanny knack of setting her ego and brilliant mind aside and letting him take charge, once she’d decided they were in his area of expertise.

  That Jack had been expecting him could mean several things. Good or bad. Perhaps Logan’s team had been tracking Kirk from the beginning. The man had supplied Kirk’s equipment and easily could have hidden a tracking device inside the first aid kit or even in the cash or the baby’s sling. Or someone Kirk hadn’t seen had been following them. Or perimeter guards had picked up their entrance into camp, but had let them through.

  None of these possibilities was necessarily in and of itself ominous. But Kirk burned with curiosity over what exactly Logan was thinking. Friend or foe, the man was clever. Kirk hoped he was a friend, because he suspected the man could think circles around most military strategists.