by B. J Daniels
“I’m sorry,” JJ said.
Thorn felt her hand on his thigh, felt the warmth, the comfort, as she moved over beside him again. “My father was a ranch manager so we moved from ranch to ranch. I rebelled hard, wanting nothing to do with ranching or him. That’s when I started going into town and stealing cars for the excitement of it. When I got caught, I met the judge and he turned me around even before the military did the rest of the job. But there was still some wild in me. I was like an untamed horse that had been broken to ride, but I still had a little too much spirit. Bethany seemed to like the wild cowboy in me, and I liked Bethany.”
“Thorn, I can hear how hard this is for you,” JJ said. “You don’t need to—”
“Actually, I do,” he said, glancing over at her in the dash lights. They were coming off the mountain road, not far now from Flathead Lake. The car’s headlights cut through the growing darkness. “I thought she was a free spirit, as well. I liked the wild in her, but I wasn’t a complete fool. She quizzed me too much about what I was doing in the service. I caught her going through my things. I suspected she’d been on my phone. When I had a friend check it, I found out that she’d put a device on it that kept track of me and my missions.”
“Are you telling me she was a spy?”
“I went to my commander with my suspicions. Looking back, I should have gone sooner, but by then she was my wife. It was her idea to run off and get married. I thought it was romantic.” He let out a bark of a laugh that hurt. “My mission before that had gone sideways when it shouldn’t have. Several of the men in my unit were wounded. Fortunately not killed.”
“You loved her and thought she loved you.”
He laughed. “That I did.”
“I can’t imagine what that did to you.”
“I told my commander everything I knew about her, and what I suspected had been going on. I felt as if I was betraying her, but I had to know. I hoped I was wrong.” He hesitated, this part the hardest to tell, the hardest to admit. “I got hold of her phone, doing what she’d done to me, as I continued to play along, being with her and not letting on what I suspected. It was hell.”
“Oh, Thorn.”
“I guess I hadn’t thought it out, how it would end. Maybe I held on to the hope too long that the military would come back to me and tell me they didn’t find anything suspect.” He felt JJ’s hand tighten on his thigh, as if she knew what was coming. “She was killed when they tried to take her and some of her associates during a raid. By then, they had a dossier on her that proved my greatest fears. She’d been working with the enemies I’d been fighting. She’d risked my life and the lives of my men, while talking about a future for the two of us when I got out of the service. She was trying to destroy me and my country.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He couldn’t look over at JJ, seeing tears in her eyes and such compassion. It was hard enough telling her, but her reaction hit him at heart level, tearing down more of the wall he’d built around himself. “Now you know why I bought the place outside of Gardiner, built my cabin and closed off the rest of the world.”
She said nothing for a long moment. “I’m glad you had Gertrude at least.”
He glanced over at her, thankful that she’d lightened the mood that had settled over them. “She’s a damned good mule.”
“Sorry about your truck.”
“It’s replaceable.” He slowed as he neared their cabin. “You aren’t.” As he pulled in and shut off the car engine, he turned to her. “For so long I worked hard every day on the place in the mountains until I was so exhausted I fell into bed at night. I lived off the land there, raising or killing what I needed, after investing what I made in the service. I told myself that I would never need anyone, let alone trust my heart ever to another woman. And it worked,” he said with a bitter laugh. “Until you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
FRANKLIN GRIPPED THE steering wheel as he drove and waited for his phone to ring. He worried that his battery might have run down or that he couldn’t get cell service as he drove through Kalispell headed south on the lake road as instructed.
Worry was like a vehicle resting on his chest. He tried to breathe, to calm down, to think positively. But anger boiled just below the surface. He wished he hadn’t listened to Willie. He regretted leaving his handgun behind.
His cell phone rang. He jumped at the sound, took a breath and picked up.
“Where are you?” the altered voice asked.
“At Dayton.” He could make out Wild Horse Island as he drove along the west side of the lake in the growing darkness.
“You’re making good time. Keep going. I’ll call back.” And the kidnapper was gone.
Franklin put down the phone on the seat next to him and concentrated on his driving. The last forty-eight hours he’d had way too much time to think about his life, about Geneva and her mother, Michelle. He knew every parent probably wanted a do-over. Just one more chance to get it right. He certainly knew that feeling right now.
Unfortunately, he’d had his do-over with Geneva and he’d blown it, because as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he knew his granddaughter was involved in all this. He just didn’t know how much—yet.
His cell phone rang. This time he was ready.
“How far are you from Polson?” the voice asked.
“Almost there.”
“Are you familiar with the bridge by the city park on the way into town?” He was. The park was right along the Flathead River where it flowed under the bridge and into Flathead Lake. “Leave your car at the park and climb up to the bridge. I will meet you in the middle. You’re alone, right?”
Completely. “Yes. I should be there soon. And Geneva?” he asked quickly before the kidnapper disconnected.
“She’ll be there.”
* * *
JJ TOOK THORN’S face in her hands and looked into his gray eyes the moment he pulled in front of the cabin. Her heart ached at what he’d been through. No wonder he’d closed himself off. But even as she thought of her feelings for him, her rational mind was telling her that this was happening too fast. It couldn’t be real. She didn’t care. She wanted this man like she’d never wanted anything in her life.
Leaning toward him, she kissed his lips gently. She’d felt his incredible pain at finding out the ultimate betrayal of the woman he’d loved and married. That he could trust again—let alone love again—seemed impossible.
He reached for her, dragging her to him to deepen the kiss.
“Ouch!” she cried as she felt the gearshift stab into her thigh. She hadn’t made out in a car since she was a teenager.
“Oh, sorry.” Thorn let her go, and they both began to laugh. “We really don’t have to do this in a compact car.” But they stayed where they were, just looking at each other, for a few more moments, as if they’d both felt it. Something had changed between them. A wall had come down that even their lovemaking hadn’t been able to topple. She hadn’t moved to a mountaintop, but she’d been hiding from intimacy, as well. She’d used her father’s medical bills as an excuse to lock herself away. But no more.
As they opened their doors and started for the cabin, Thorn swept her up in his arms and carried her inside. Just looking into his eyes made her heart beat even faster. She could see that he didn’t know where they might go from here—any more than she did. Nor was he ready to say those three little words—any more than she was. But what they had between them... It was nothing short of amazing. They’d brought each other back. She’d never felt such a strong emotion as he gently lowered her to the bed.
The small old cabin was their harbor away from the rest of the world—at least until the phone rang, dragging them back. But right now. It was just the two of them.
“I want to make love to you,” he whispered, his gaze never leaving hers.
And he did.
* * *
THORN LISTENED TO the sound of the shower running. He stretched, smiling to himself as he thought about JJ and their earlier lovemaking. He felt like a new man, and that made him laugh. This woman had rescued him from a dark place—a place he’d thought he could never escape.
His stomach growled, and he knew JJ must be starving. He climbed out of bed and dressed. Moving to the bathroom door, he called, “I’m going to get us something to eat over at the bar. I’ll be right back.”
He remembered that she’d left her phone in case Geneva called. He pocketed it along with his own. Neither phone had rung since she’d gone to take a shower after their lovemaking.
As he started toward the bar, Miguel pulled up in a pickup, jumped out and opened the back. Thorn couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Miguel had retrieved his motorcycle from the salvage lot where his truck and JJ’s car had been taken.
“I thought it was totaled like the truck,” Thorn said.
Miguel smiled. “It took a little work. I wouldn’t say it was as good as new, but it’s running like a top and most of the dents have been beaten out of the body.”
Thorn didn’t know what to say. Before he could say anything, Miguel said, “Help me get it out of the back of the truck.”
He did and then hugged his friend. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. I owe you.”
Miguel shook his head. “We’re friends.” He shrugged as if that said it all, then climbed into his pickup and pulled up to park behind the bar. “The special tonight is chicken enchiladas,” he called as he entered the back.
Thorn laughed, thinking how much JJ would like the special as he walked over to the bar.
Back at the cabin, he put the food on the table and wondered if the judge had heard anything from the kidnappers about the ransom drop. Probably not, because WT had promised to call.
As he pulled the phones out of his pocket and set them on the table, he wondered at the fact that no one but Geneva had called on JJ’s phone since she’d retrieved it from her bag more than twenty-four hours ago. At least she hadn’t gotten any calls that he knew of.
Thorn felt bad for her. JJ had cut herself off from the rest of the world to keep her head down as she worked to pay off her father’s medical expenses. He saw so much of himself in her. He’d told himself that he didn’t need anyone. It had been a lie he’d lived with. Until JJ.
That repressed passion had certainly come out in the past few days with her. He smiled. They were like two people who had washed up on a deserted island after thinking their lives were over. That alone should have scared him. He knew how intense something could feel when mixed with a healthy dose of fear and danger.
But every cell of his body argued that this was real.
He thought she’d appreciate him bringing the food back to the cabin. She had to be as anxious as he was. Nothing could go wrong with the ransom drop, and even as he thought it, he feared something might already have.
Shouldn’t they have heard something by now? The judge had promised to call. He thought about calling him, but knew better than to tie up WT’s cell phone.
Suddenly he froze. The shower was still running? His chest tightened. JJ had always been so quick in the shower. He tapped on the door, telling himself not to panic. “JJ?” No answer. He tapped louder. “JJ?” Still no answer. He tried the knob.
As the door fell open, he saw that the shower was on, but JJ wasn’t in it. His gaze shot from the torn shower curtain to the window that now hung open, the summer night blowing in.
JJ was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
IT WAS DARK by the time Franklin pulled into the lot at the small park on the Flathead River. There were no other cars, but there were signs that people had been here earlier. The trash containers were full and coals still burned in the raised grills, the scent of charred hot dogs hanging in the air as he climbed out of his vehicle and looked up at the bridge.
He couldn’t see anyone. Only a few cars passed as he reached into the sedan for the briefcase. He had to go up the hill to reach the bridge, climbing slowly, looking around, half expecting to be ambushed.
When he reached the bridge, he stopped as if to catch his breath. In truth, he was breathing hard but not from exertion. He was scared, fearing what might go wrong. Geneva’s life was at stake. It was a thought that hadn’t left his mind since the kidnapper had called Friday night.
He could hear the lap of water beneath him and smell the summer scents that floated on the breeze. The briefcase felt heavy in his left hand. He shifted it to his right as he heard a boat in the distance. Several cars went past, their headlights temporarily blinding him.
Why meet here? he wondered. Would they try to snatch the briefcase from him as they drove by? He knew that he didn’t expect them to live up to their end of the bargain. They were criminals, he thought angrily, and reminded himself that his granddaughter might be the leader.
As headlights washed over him from behind, he caught movement at the other end of the bridge. The car passed him, illuminating two figures. Heart in his throat, he began walking.
The bridge didn’t span a great distance, but the darkness made it seem farther to the middle. The wind coming down the Flathead River buffeted him as he walked. The briefcase seemed to grow heavier with each step. He changed hands every so many feet as he tried to remain calm and not to think too much.
He could make out the larger figure moving toward him in the front. A smaller figure was behind him. Geneva? He got only glimpses of the person behind the man. Both wore hoodie sweatshirts, the hoods up. He could only hope the other one was Geneva. But if it was, her blond hair was covered. Otherwise, he would have seen it when a car passed.
Traffic was light tonight as the hour got later and the sky darker. Development around the lake and town cast multicolored lights over the water, but none near the bridge. Still, when he did look down, the river’s surface had a gunmetal sheen as it flowed past.
He was getting close to the middle of the bridge and began to slow, determined to make the kidnappers come to him. Gauging the distance in front and behind him, he stopped to wait and set the briefcase at his feet. The summer air was cool off the water. He crossed his arms, knowing that it wasn’t the temperature that had him shaking.
The two figures kept coming. He could definitely make out the man in the lead. Broad-shouldered, wearing a dark hoodie that matched his hair. Zac Judson. Franklin still hadn’t gotten a good look at the smaller figure behind him. It could be a smaller man, in which case this could go south quickly, and he could end up dead.
He wished again for his gun. But he knew that if it was two men headed for him and they had tried to trick him, he would have pulled the weapon and shot them both. That alone should have made him glad that Willie had insisted on him leaving the weapon behind. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in prison.
But damned if he wanted these bastards to screw with him any further. Once he got Geneva back safe, he would go after everyone involved with all the power and money he had, and it was a hell of a lot.
And if Geneva is involved?
That thought made him sway a little in the breeze that seemed to have picked up with the growing darkness of night.
The two figures were almost to him. The man’s face was in shadow, but he was positive it was Zac Judson.
Zac stopped a dozen yards away. “You bring the money?”
Franklin reached down and picked up the briefcase. “Where’s Geneva? Geneva!”
Zac reached behind and shoved back the hoodie just enough to reveal her hair. Blond strands caught in the breeze, whirling around her face. The man was still blocking Franklin’s view, but he saw that her mouth had duct tape over it and her wrists were bound in front of her.
“Let her go!” Franklin demanded. “Let her go now!”
&nbs
p; Zac started to speak, but Franklin was no longer interested in anything the man had to say. He threw the briefcase as hard as he could. Zac saw it coming and tried to dodge out of the way, but had nowhere to go as a car sped past with the bridge’s concrete railing on one side and a vehicle rushing past on the highway. The briefcase caught him at gut level, bending him over.
Franklin was moving the moment he threw the briefcase. He charged like a wild animal, a guttural sound coming from his mouth that filled the night air. He saw his granddaughter’s eyes widen in alarm just an instant before Zac dropped the briefcase to the bridge walkway and turned.
From only yards away, Franklin watched in horror as the man grabbed Geneva and threw her off the bridge before scooping up the briefcase and jumping after her.
He heard the first splash and then the second. He’d been moving so fast that it took him a few steps to stop. He grabbed the concrete railing and looked down in the water and saw nothing. Realizing that the current had already carried them both to the other side of the bridge, he turned to run across when a car swept past, nearly hitting him.
All he could think of was Geneva, her hands bound, duct tape over her mouth. She would drown. Another car swept past before he could rush to the other side. He was planning to jump into the river, save his granddaughter, but before he could reach the opposite side of the bridge, he heard a boat motor come to life.
By the time he reached the downriver side of the bridge, he watched in the boat’s lights as first the bound woman and then the man and briefcase were pulled aboard. Zac turned, glanced up and saluted him.