Alaskan Rescue

by Terri Reed

  He gave a whistle, bringing Juneau back to his side. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to stop at my place. A change of clothes is in order.” His uniform was sopping wet and muddy and gross, not the way he wanted to look when he confessed to Ariel he loved her.

  * * *

  That night Ariel sat on the back porch with Sasha on her lap. She’d let the dogs out in the fenced yard, and their happy howling as they had fun after their last feeding for the day made her smile. She lamented she hadn’t made any money at the race, but she was so thankful she’d been able to save Hunter.

  She loved him more than she’d believed possible. When would she see him again? Would it be too brazen of her to call him and ask him to come over?

  Doubt swamped her. Not only did he think her capable of doping her dogs, he didn’t believe in love. How could they have a future together?

  Perhaps it was best for her to suffer her wounded heart alone.

  In the twilight of evening, a car turned off the main road onto the snow-packed driveway. Her pulse skipped a beat, then raced through her veins.

  Hunter.

  His SUV came to a halt. Juneau’s plaintive howling reached Ariel, and she smiled. The back compartment opened. Juneau jumped out and raced to her. She held her arms wide, mindful of Sasha sitting on her knees. Juneau skidded to a halt, his rough tongue licking her face.

  Her gaze went to Hunter. He walked toward her, looking so handsome in khakis and a leather bomber jacket. His piercing blue eyes held hers. “May I join you?”

  She scooted over to make room for him to sit on the back porch. He scrubbed Sasha behind the ears, then took the puppy and set him on the ground. Ariel tucked in her chin. What was this about?

  He gathered her hands in his. “I can’t believe you saved my life today.”

  Her anger resurfacing, she shot back, “But you could believe I’d dope my dogs?”

  “The minute you explained what the powder was, I realized I was wrong not to come to your defense.” He squeezed her hands. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

  Her anger left in a rush. He was a cop. It was his job to be suspicious, after all. “I understand. I forgive you.”

  “What you did today was very dangerous.”

  “What was it you said to me? That I have to trust that God will keep us safe?”

  His mouth quirked. “I did say that. And I do believe it. And I believe in you.”

  She drew back, not sure what to make of his words. “Since when?”

  He lifted her hands and kissed her knuckles. “Since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

  A short laugh escaped her. “Now, I know that’s not true. The first time you saw me, I was lying facedown in a bramble bush.”

  His deep-throated laugh made her giddy. “Okay, maybe not the first time I saw you. But not too long after that. You looked at me with such trust in your eyes. I’ve never had anyone put that kind of faith in me.”

  “I do trust you, Hunter. More than you could possibly know.” She took a breath. This could be the only opportunity she had to say it. She was going to dig deep and find the courage to take the risk. “I love you. I know that probably scares you. You don’t believe in love—”

  He put a finger to her lips, cutting her off. “No, Ariel, that doesn’t scare me. Not anymore. You taught me that love doesn’t have to be a risk. It doesn’t have to be scary. Love can be beautiful.”

  Delight and hope blossomed in her chest. “Do you mean that?”

  “I do,” he said. “I love you, too, Ariel Potter. And I hope to spend the rest of my life with you, by your side. If you’ll have me and Juneau.”

  Elated beyond measure, she practically shouted, “Of course.”

  She tugged her hands from his and threw her arms around his neck. “Kiss me,” she pleaded.

  “I’ll kiss you every moment possible,” he promised.

  And he kissed her.

  * * *

  Look for the next book in the Alaska K-9 Unit series, Poppy Walsh’s story, Wilderness Defender by Maggie K. Black, available in May 2021.

  ALASKA K-9 UNIT

  These state troopers fight for justice with the help of their brave canine partners.

  Alaskan Rescue by Terri Reed, April 2021

  Wilderness Defender by Maggie K. Black, May 2021

  Undercover Mission by Sharon Dunn, June 2021

  Tracking Stolen Secrets by Laura Scott, July 2021

  Deadly Cargo by Jodie Bailey, August 2021

  Arctic Witness by Heather Woodhaven, September 2021

  Yukon Justice by Dana Mentink, October 2021

  Blizzard Showdown by Shirlee McCoy, November 2021

  Christmas K-9 Protectors by Lenora Worth and Maggie K. Black, December 2021

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Wyoming Mountain Escape by Laura Scott.

  Dear Reader,

  Alaska. When I think of the northern state, I think of wide-open spaces, snow and beauty mixed with wild terrain. A perfect setting for a suspense story. Last summer when my editor talked about the next continuity being set in Alaska with Alaska State Troopers and K-9 dogs, I got very excited to think about all the research that I would need to do, never realizing that I would be asked to start our continuity off.

  Setting up a continuity is always a challenge and a pleasure. There are so many moving parts to keep track of, but ultimately, the story comes down to two characters facing life-and-death choices and finding love.

  For Ariel Potter, growing up with nomadic parents left her feeling a little out of step with the rest of the world. Because she hadn’t made deep bonds in those formative years, she yearned for love but was held back by fear. Alaska State Trooper and K-9 handler Hunter McCord viewed love as a risk he wasn’t willing to take. But protecting Ariel from those who wanted to harm her forced Hunter to reassess his opinion of love and romance. And Ariel discovered that letting go of fear meant trusting God to keep her safe. Together, with their faith in God, Ariel and Hunter, along with Hunter’s K-9 partner, Juneau, managed to thwart those who wanted to hurt Ariel. In the process, they discovered that love, when it’s right and true, is beautiful and worth risking everything.

  I hope you will continue on with us in the journey through the Alaska K-9 Unit as each book will come closer and closer to discovering what happened that day on the mountain.

  Until we meet again,

  Terri Reed

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  Find strength and determination in stories of faith and love in the face of danger.

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  Wyoming Mountain Escape

  by Laura Scott

  ONE

  Chelsey Robards walked out of the Teton Valley Hotel and approached the grassy knoll where her wedding guests waited. She paused at the front of the aisle, her stomach knotted with tension. Wearing a white gown, her veil trailing from a ring of flowers pinned in her curly golden-blond hair, she looked apprehensively at Brett Thompson, her long-time friend and soon-to-be husband. Brett smiled encouragingly from his position near the right side of an arched lattice decorated with Wyoming wildflowers—the place they’d chosen to exchange their vows. Snow-covered Tetons, a section of the majestic Rocky Mountains, loomed behind Brett, creating a picture-perfect scene. Bars from “The Wedding March” began to play, but her feet refused to move.

  This is a terrible mistake.

  Chelsey had ignored the lingering doubts she’d experienced over the past week. The doubts had grown more pronounced when Duncan O’Hare, her and Brett’s childhood friend, had arrived to fulfill his role as best man. Chelsey’s friend and assistant manager, Trish Novak, was standing in as her maid of honor. Seeing Brett and Duncan together reinforced Chelsey’s doubts.

  She couldn’t
do this. Marrying Brett was a mistake. How had she let it go this far? She’d known Brett and Duncan from childhood, until her parents had moved to Wyoming the summer after her freshman year of high school. She loved Brett, but she understood now that she loved him as a friend.

  Not a husband.

  The song continued, her guests waiting expectantly. What should she do? She couldn’t embarrass Brett by refusing to marry him in front of their friends and relatives.

  Duncan’s intense dark gaze caught her eye, his expression full of concern as if he sensed her inner turmoil. Drawing strength from Duncan, she forced herself to take the first step. And another.

  The closer she came to the arched lattice where Brett waited, the more her stomach twisted painfully. She swallowed against the urge to throw up. Despite the sunlight overhead, she felt cold to the bone.

  As she approached her husband-to-be, she abruptly stopped, unable to take that final step toward Brett. Every eye from those seated in the grassy knoll was glued to her and it was all she could do not to turn and run away as fast as her white ballet slippers would take her.

  Brett’s smile never faltered. He waited patiently, having no idea how she felt. In contrast, Duncan’s dark brown gaze was serious, and she knew she wasn’t fooling him.

  Not the way she’d fooled everyone else.

  The song was winding down and she couldn’t postpone the inevitable any longer. She had to do this, even if it meant telling Brett afterward that she wanted an annulment. They could return the gifts and walk away as if this never happened.

  Couldn’t they?

  A sharp crack ripped through the air. It took a minute for her to notice the red spot blooming on Brett’s white shirt as he staggered backward.

  “Get down!” Duncan lurched forward, grabbed her arm and dragged her away from Brett who’d crumpled to the ground.

  He’d been shot!

  Screams and bedlam broke out around them, the wedding guests scattering like mice, but Duncan didn’t let go of her hand. He dragged her away from the area, down the hill toward the wooded mountainside.

  It was difficult to comprehend what had just happened. “Wait! We need to go back to Brett! He’s been shot!”

  “He’s gone, Chelsey, but the shooter is still out there, somewhere. We need to keep moving.”

  No! This couldn’t be happening! Brett! There wasn’t time to think, to truly comprehend. She followed in Duncan’s wake. Her bridal gown was long, and she kept tripping over the hem, the train picking up leaves and sticks as they raced for cover.

  “But—I don’t understand.” Her mind was a chaotic, emotional mess. She didn’t want to marry Brett, but she didn’t want him dead. She loved him. He was a good friend. Dear Lord in heaven, what is going on? This didn’t make any sense. Who would shoot him? On their wedding day?

  And why?

  “Come on.” Duncan tugged on her hand, steering her toward a cluster of trees. It was mid-June and her white gown would be glaringly obvious against the green foliage.

  “But—” Another loud crack echoed around them and Duncan yanked her down and behind the base of a large tree.

  “We need someplace to hide.” Duncan’s voice was calm, as if running from gunfire was an everyday occurrence.

  “My gown...” Her teeth began to chatter as if she were freezing cold. “W-we’ll be t-too noticeable.”

  “It’s okay, I’ll protect you.” Duncan’s deep voice was ridiculously reassuring, even though she had no idea who he was protecting her from. He swept his gaze around the area, then gestured to the left. “This way.”

  She wasn’t in a position to argue. He stood and helped her up, steering her toward another large tree. The air had fallen silent, and she hoped, prayed the shooter had cut and run.

  They continued their zigzag pattern using the various trees and rocks for cover, moving from one place to the next. At some level she realized Duncan was taking them deeper into the woods and up the mountain. Her ballet slippers weren’t designed for this kind of rugged terrain, and she could feel every rock and stick poking at the soles of her feet.

  Duncan didn’t let up his aggressive pace, moving swiftly and silently through the woods. She risked a glance over her shoulder. They’d gone so far that she could barely see the grassy knoll or the lattice arch. Only a hint of the log cabin frame of the Teton Valley Hotel was visible through the trees.

  It was as if all evidence of her wedding had vanished.

  A searing guilt stabbed deep. Was this somehow her fault? That her deep desire to avoid marrying Brett had caused this to happen? No, that didn’t make any sense, but she still couldn’t shake the shroud of guilt.

  Poor Brett. No one deserved to die. To be shot in the chest at his own wedding. He’d always been nice and kind to her, especially when they reunited just a few months ago at her mother’s funeral.

  Maybe it was the shock of losing her mother that had caused her to turn to Brett for comfort. That made her accept his surprising proposal. At first she’d felt complete, as if this was what God wanted—for her to move on with her own life.

  Until the doubts began to creep in. Growing worse as the big day approached.

  Her veil caught on a low-hanging tree branch. Tears sprang to her eyes as the flowered headpiece was yanked from her hair.

  “Are you okay?” Duncan’s keen gaze didn’t miss a thing.

  She nodded, even though she was far from okay.

  She’d never be okay again.

  They continued their mountain trek until she could barely move. Finally, Duncan stopped behind an outcropping of boulders.

  “We’ll rest here for a bit.”

  She dropped to the ground where she stood, pulling up the ragged, dirty hem of her gown to peer at her feet. The white ballet slippers were brown and already beginning to split at the seams. Full of despair, she kept remembering the bloodstain growing in the center of Brett’s white shirt directly over his heart. Yet the horrific memory didn’t bring her to tears. Her dear friend, the man she’d promised to marry, was dead. Brutally shot at their wedding.

  Why wasn’t she sobbing buckets of tears?

  “Chelsey, look at me.” Duncan’s voice penetrated her internal thoughts. She lifted her head to look up at him. “I need to find fresh water for us to drink, or we’ll become severely dehydrated out here. Will you wait here? Water is trickling nearby, but I’m not sure exactly where it is.”

  Dehydration? Was that why she couldn’t cry? At least that made sense, a bit of logic in a world that had suddenly turned upside down. “I’ll wait.” The words came out as a hoarse croak.

  Duncan’s hand gently squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll be back very soon.”

  She nodded again, because frankly she didn’t have a choice. Now that she was sitting on the ground, she didn’t have the strength to go on. Not that sitting on the mountain all night held any appeal.

  Duncan still wore his light gray tux and white shirt. His dark blue boutonniere had been lost along the way. Other than his chocolate-brown hair being damp with sweat, he didn’t show any sign of exertion. And when he moved out of her line of vision, her chest tightened with panic.

  “Duncan, wait!” Her earlier exhaustion vanished. She struggled to her feet, unwilling to be left alone.

  He quickly returned his dark gaze full of concern. “Easy, Chelsey, you’re going to be fine. We’re safe.”

  “How do you know? What if the gunman followed us?”

  “Based on the trajectory of the bullet, I believe he was on the roof of the hotel when he shot Brett. There’s no way he could have followed us through the woods.” Duncan sat beside her wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “We’re going to be fine, Chelsey. We’ll get through this.”

  She leaned against him, burrowing her face in the hollow of his shoulder. Maybe it was wrong to seek comfort in Duncan’s
arms so soon after losing Brett, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

  If anyone could get her out of this mess alive and in one piece, it was Duncan O’Hare.

  * * *

  Duncan cradled Chelsey close, inwardly reeling from the brutal slaying of Brett Thompson.

  What in the world had his old buddy gotten involved in?

  The hit had been done by a professional, there was no doubt about that. Chilling to realize just how close he’d come to losing Chelsey, too.

  The second shot had been meant for her. It was the only explanation. Otherwise, why hadn’t the shooter taken off, disappearing amid the chaos?

  Duncan had been in Jackson, Wyoming, for only five days, but from the moment he’d arrived, he’d sensed there was something going on with Brett.

  The guy had been skittish, constantly looking over his shoulder, as if expecting someone to come up and grab him from behind. When Duncan had pressed him for information, Brett had shrugged off his concerns, focusing instead on how fortunate he was to have Chelsey as his fiancée. That he couldn’t wait to marry her.

  Now Brett was dead. Shot at his own wedding. Duncan’s heart ached for what Chelsey had lost today. Not just a friend but her soon-to-be husband. He didn’t blame her for falling apart.

  Chelsey stirred in his embrace and he reluctantly loosened his grip. “Better?”

  She nodded and pushed a strand of her wavy golden-blond hair from her cheek. “I’m sorry to break down like that.”

  “Hey, you’re entitled after everything you’ve been through. I’m so sorry about Brett. I know the reality probably hasn’t hit you yet, but I’m here for you, when it does.”

  She stared down at the ground for a long moment. “Thanks.”

  He glanced around. “I really need to find us water and shelter.”

  “My shoes are about to fall apart.” She gestured to her mud-stained slipper-like shoes. “I’m not sure they’ll hold up to more hiking.”