by Elle James
Clarise spun toward the door, her eyes widening. “What the—? How—?”
“How am I alive when I was in the plane Kalea was flying?” Hawk shook his head. “Because Miss Parkman is an excellent pilot. Even when the engine was sabotaged, she was able to land the plane successfully. And your mercenary wasn’t successful in finishing us off. I’m sure he would be more than willing to tell the police what he knows.”
Clarise shook her head. “You can’t prove anything,” she said, her voice strained and high pitched, unlike her usual calm tones.
“I think we can,” Hawk said. “We have video footage of someone paying Jordan Buckley prior to his attack on Kalea in Hilo. And we have the license plate of the SUV that person drove off in.”
“You know what vehicle we’re talking about,” Kalea’s father said, his tone dark and deep. “You know, because it was you.”
Clarise grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “I don’t have to listen to this. I’ve never been so insulted in my life. We’ve worked together for more than five years. You’d think you knew someone.” She fiddled in her purse, jingling her keys.
“I thought I knew you,” Kalea’s father said.
Kalea’s heart hurt for her father. He trusted his employees. To find one who’d not only lied to him, but had attempted to kill his only daughter, had to be tearing him apart. Kalea wanted to punch the woman in the face for destroying her father’s faith in his people.
Clarise straightened, pulling her hand out of her purse, along with a small gun in her palm. She aimed it at Hawk. “Get out of my way.”
Kalea’s heart skipped several beats and slammed into her ribs with a force that actually stung. That woman was pointing a gun at the man who’d found his way into Kalea’s heart. She couldn’t let the bitch kill him. She wouldn’t. Kalea leaped out of the bushes and up onto the deck.
“Clarise, put the gun away,” Kalea’s father said. “It’s over. The police are on their way. The video has been sent to the detective who’s been in charge of the investigation from the start. Your license plate was matched to the one in the video.”
“You can’t stop me. I won’t go to jail.” She raised the barrel of the pistol, pointing it at Hawk’s chest. “If you were with Kalea and you survived the plane crash, where is the little princess?”
“Here,” Kalea said, and burst through the French door into her father’s study. “I’m here.”
Clarise spun toward Kalea, her gun turning with her.
Hawk sprang forward with the electronic tablet and slammed it down on Clarise’s hand with the gun. The gun went off, but the bullet hit the floor. Hawk jerked it out of her hand, dropped the magazine out of the handle and cleared the chamber. “Ms. Sanders, I believe your ride has arrived.”
Flashing blue lights shone through the study as Hawaii’s finest arrived on the scene.
Clarise dodged around Hawk and ran for the door, only to be stopped by Patterson and Swede, standing in her way. “No. This can’t be happening,” she screeched. She turned to face Kalea’s father. “They were supposed to die. You were supposed to marry me.” Tears streamed down her face. “You ruined it,” she screamed and ran toward Kalea, her fingers curled like claws, aiming for Kalea’s face.
Hawk grabbed her from behind and clamped her arms to her sides. “You’re done here.”
The police entered the room and took Clarise in custody.
An hour later, after they’d given their statements and Clarise had been taken away, Kalea hugged her father goodnight and stepped out onto the porch.
The stars shone brightly, and the sky was so clear she swore she could see fever.
“The stars shine like this in Montana,” Hawk’s voice said from the corner of the porch.
Kalea turned toward him.
He leaned against the rail, his ankles crossed in front of him and his arms crossed over his chest.
“Shouldn’t you be packing?” Kalea asked.
“I’m in no hurry,” he said.
“I thought you wanted to get back to Montana,” Kalea said and looked out again at the stars, afraid if she continued to stare at Hawk, the tears she’d been holding at bay would slip free of her eyes and slide down her cheeks. And she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t cry in front of a man she’d only met a few short days before. He’d been her bodyguard. Now that the threat was gone, his services were no longer required.
A sob rose up Kalea’s throat. She swallowed hard to keep it from escaping, only managing to form a knot that hurt her vocal cords.
“Are you in a hurry to get rid of me?” Hawk asked.
She shook her head, unable to force words out. The tears she’d tried to hold back spilled over the edges and slid down her face.
“Kalea…look at me,” he commanded.
She shook her head, that sob finally making its way out on a shaky hiccup.
Then arms surrounded her and pulled her back against him. “Hey. Why the tears?”
“Because,” she whispered.
He turned her to face him and tipped up her chin. “Are you crying because my job here is done?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“About that…”
Kalea stared up into his eyes, her vision swimming in her tears.
“I really did turn in my resignation with Patterson.”
Her tears froze, and her breath caught in her throat. “You did?”
He nodded. “I did.” Then he shook his head. “He refused to accept it…again.”
Her brow dipped. “How can he do that?”
“I told him he couldn’t.” Hawk cupped her cheeks in his palms and brushed his thumb across her lips. “But he offered me an alternative.”
Kalea could barely concentrate when he touched her like he was. “Alternative?”
“Uh huh,” he whispered, lowering his head until his lips were barely skimming hers. “He asked me if I wanted to start a branch of Brotherhood Protectors here in Hawaii.”
Her heart beat faster, and she curled her fingers into his shirt. “And you said?”
“I’d think about it.”
Kalea stiffened in his arms. “Don’t you know what you want to do?”
“I do, but I wasn’t sure about you.”
“Me?” She shook her head. “What does starting a branch of Brotherhood Protectors in Hawaii have to do with me?” She could think of only one thing, but she had to hear it from him. She waited, her breath lodged in her lungs, her entire world on hold, waiting for his answer.
“I wasn’t sure you wanted me to stick around. You see, you don’t need me anymore.”
“What are you talking about?” She gripped his shirt in her hands and pulled him closer, until their noses almost touched. “Call it love at first sight or lust, whatever it is, I need you like I need to breathe. If you want me to say it, I will. I think I’m falling for you. And I’ve never felt so happy in my life.” She leaned up on her toes and kissed his lips. “Please tell me you’ll stay. Please. Because if you don’t, I might have to consider moving.”
He laughed. “Moving? Where to?”
“Montana, if that’s where you want to go. Although, why you’d want to live in Montana when we have everything your heart desires right here in Hawaii, I don’t know.” She gazed up into his eyes. “So, what’s it to be, paniolo? Are you going to stay here and see where this thing we have between us goes? Or am I going to have to pack my bags and follow you to Montana?”
He cupped the back of her neck and smiled down at her. “You’d do that for me?”
“No, I’d do it for me. I’m selfish that way. When I want something, I go after it with my whole heart.” She drew an X over her chest. “And you just might have stolen my whole heart. I might need it back. Or at least share it with you.” She laughed. “I’m babbling. I’ll shut up now.”
“It’s like you said, what does Montana have that I can’t find here in Hawaii? I can tell you one thing for sure.” He brushed his lips across he
rs in a feather-soft kiss. “It doesn’t have you.”
“You’re staying?” she asked, her happiness bubbling up her chest.
One side of his mouth quirked upward, and his gaze bore down into hers. “I had a talk with your father. He said I could set up an office in one of the buildings on the ranch. I guess that means I’m staying. Only one more question…”
“Yes!” she shouted, and then tamped down her excitement to ask, “I mean, what question?”
“Will you go out on a date with me? I’ll let you choose where and how. And just so you know, I’m game for airplanes and horses.”
“Since my plane is still missing, how about we go in a car and to a restaurant?”
“Deal.” He kissed her again. “And one other thing,” he said.
“Mmm,” she mumbled, nibbling at his bottom lip.
“Will you dance for me? You know the dance you’re practicing for the King Kamehameha celebration?”
“For you?” She laughed and hugged him close. “We’ll have to find a place with a little more privacy.”
“I know an island…” And he kissed her, holding her close like there might not be a tomorrow, and if there was, they would be together, sharing it.
Soldier’s Duty
Iron Horse Legacy Book #1
Elle James
New York Times Bestselling Author
Chapter 1
“As you all know, William Reed escaped from a prison transport yesterday.” Sheriff Barron stood in front of a group of men and women who’d gathered around him at the side of the highway in the foothills of the Crazy Mountains on a blustery cold day in early April.
He continued, “We have security camera footage showing him stealing a car from a convenience store in Bozeman. The license plate of the vehicle he stole matches the license plate of the vehicle behind me.” Sheriff Barron turned to the side and waved toward a vehicle half-hidden in the brush behind him. “The state police are on their way, and they’re also sending a helicopter from Bozeman. But they aren’t as familiar with the mountainous terrain as you are, and the weather might keep them from using the chopper. That’s why I’ve asked you to bring your horses and ATVs. All of you know these mountains better than anyone. And you are the select group of people I trust most to handle this situation.”
James McKinnon tugged up the collar of his coat around his chin to keep a blast of wintery wind from snaking down his neck. He listened silently as the sheriff explained why they were there. With each breath James took, he blew out a little cloud of steam.
Rucker, his bay gelding, pawed at the ground impatiently.
James had chosen Rucker because he was the most sure-footed of the horses in his stable. For the manhunt they were about to conduct, the gelding was the best bet. The Crazy Mountains could be as dangerous as the man they were searching for. And the weather wasn’t helping.
The sheriff gave them a steely glance. “We don’t know at this point whether or not Reed is armed but assume that he is.”
James’s hand went to the pistol in the holster he had strapped to his hip.
“Sheriff, what do you want us to do?” one of the men in the crowd called out.
The sheriff straightened, with his shoulders pushed back and his mouth set in a firm line. He stared at each of the people gathered around, making eye contact with each person. “Bring him in.”
“And how do you want us to do that,” another man called out.
The sheriff’s chin lifted. “Most of you follow the news. Reed was in prison for multiple counts of murder. He killed two guards during the armored truck robbery. When he was cornered, he killed two cops. The man was serving a life sentence without parole.
“While being transported to a high-security prison, his transport vehicle ran off the road. The driver was killed on impact, but the guard in back with Reed wasn’t. He was injured. Reed finished him off. Now, I’m not telling you to kill Reed, but if at any time believe your life is in danger, shoot to kill the bastard. If at all possible, don’t engage…report. Our primary goal is to bring Reed in before he hurts anyone else.”
James’s hands tightened into fists. He hadn’t killed a man since he’d been a member of Delta Force more than two decades ago. Not that he’d become squeamish about killing a man in his old age, but it was just that he’d thought his people-killing days were over when he’d left the military.
The only killing he’d done lately was the occasional coyote in the chicken coop and deer or elk while hunting in the fall.
From the news reports he’d been following, he knew Reed had turned into a really bad character. James was glad the bastard had headed into the mountains instead of the city. He reckoned that if the convict was cornered, he would take whatever hostage he could to get out of a situation.
James had left instructions with his wife and daughter to stay inside the ranch house and keep the doors locked. But he knew they were stubborn women and wouldn’t stand by and leave the animals to fend for themselves, especially in bad weather. They’d venture out into the barnyard to feed the chickens, pigs, horses and goats to keep them from going hungry. With the winter weather making a reappearance, they’d likely put some of the livestock in the barn.
Which would leave them at risk of being captured if Reed circled back to the Iron Horse Ranch. Hopefully, they’d be smart and enlist the help of their ranch foreman, Parker Bailey.
Sheriff Barron held up a paper with an image of William Reed. James didn’t need to see the picture. He knew Reed. However, others amongst them were newer to Eagle Rock and the county. “This is our man. Right now, we think he’s up in the mountains. The longer he’s free, the hungrier he’ll get. It’s imperative we bring him in quickly. All of our families’ lives are in danger as long as he runs free.”
“Then let’s stop talking and start tracking,” Marty Langley called out.
The sheriff nodded. “All right, then, gather around the map. We’re going to split up into different quadrants so we’re not shooting at each other.” Sheriff Barron spread a map over the hood of his SUV, and the group gathered around him. He gave instructions as to where each person would be during the hunt and what signal they should give if they found something. He handed out as many two-way radios as he had, distributing them to every other quadrant.
Once James had his assigned area, he mounted Rucker and rode into the mountains, his knee nudging the rifle in his scabbard, his hand patting the pistol on his hip.
He’d known Reed for years. When you lived in a small community, everyone knew everyone else. Some were better at keeping secrets than others but, for the most part, everyone knew everyone else’s business.
Reed had been a regular guy, working in construction and hitting the bar at night. He’d been a ladies’ man with a lot going for him. How had a guy like that ended up robbing an armored truck and killing the people driving it? What had driven Reed down the wrong path?
James could have been home with his wife of thirty-five wonderful years, holding her close in front of the fireplace, instead of riding out on a cold winter’s night in search of a killer.
He knew he had it good. After twenty years in the military, he’d settled in Montana on the land his father had passed down to him. He’d wanted his kids to have what he’d had growing up. Ranching had made him the man he was—unafraid of hard work, determined to make a difference, able to take on any challenge, no matter how physically or mentally difficult.
He’d been damned proud of his sons and daughter and how they’d taken to ranching like they’d been born to it. Even Angus, who’d been twelve when they’d moved to the Crazy Mountains of Montana. He’d been the first to learn to ride and show the other boys how wonderful it could be to have the wind in their faces, galloping across the pastures.
A cold wind whipped into James’s face, bringing him back to the present and the bitterness of an early spring cold snap. Just when they’d thought spring had come and the snow had started to melt at the lower e
levations, the jet stream had taken a violent shift downward, dipping south from Canada into the Rocky Mountains of Montana, dumping a foot of fresh snow all the way down into the valleys.
He nudged Rucker in the flanks, sending him up the path leading to a small canyon that crossed over a couple of ranches—including his, the Iron Horse Ranch.
He knew the area better than anyone, having lived on the ranch as a child and as an adult since he’d returned from serving in the Army. As his father’s only child, he’d inherited the ranch upon his father’s death. Now, it was up to him to make it sustainable and safe for his family and ranch hands.
Again, he thought about his wife, Hannah, and his daughter, Molly, and worried for their safety.
Clouds sank low over the mountaintops, bringing with it more snow, falling in giant flakes. The wind drove them sideways, making it difficult to see the trail ahead.
About the time James decided to turn back, he’d entered the canyon. Sheer walls of rock blocked some of the wind and snow, making it a little easier to see the path in front of Rucker.
James decided to give the hunt a little more time before he gave up and returned to the highway where he’d parked his horse trailer.
He knew of several caves in the canyon suitable for a fugitive to hole up in during a brutal winter storm. They weren’t much further along the trail, but they were higher up the slope. Snowcapped ridges rose up beside him. He was careful not to make any loud noises that might trigger an avalanche. Spending the next couple days in a cave wasn’t something he wanted to do.
If he survived an avalanche, he could make do with the natural shelter until a rescue chopper could get into the canyon and fish him out. But Hannah and Molly would be sick with worry. James tried not to put himself in situations that made his sweet wife worry. Unfortunately, the Reed escape had worry written all over it. The man had escaped. He’d already proven he’d kill rather than go back to jail. He wouldn’t go peacefully.