She opened her eyes, and he shined a light down on her. “Jack!” she gasped, relief flooding her. Thank you, God. “Jack . . . this root isn’t going to hold. I don’t know what to do.”
And it wasn’t like Jack could help her. He had a bum arm. Owen wasn’t a climber. She was going to die.
“Take deep breaths. Just remain calm and still,” he said.
Jack shouted over his shoulder to someone behind him, but she couldn’t make out the words. Her pulse ticked up, roaring in her ears, and her palms started sweating, making her grip on the root slippery.
She repositioned her hold and was rewarded with more dirt. One more shift on her part, and the root might give way completely.
Oh, God, I don’t want to die on this mountain. I don’t want to die like my mother. If I die here, it wouldn’t even be to give my life for someone else like she did.
A gust whipped over and around her. She was exposed out here. Even as sweat beaded on her temples and back, the bitter wind made her shiver. Her hands trembled.
She was slipping.
Terra squeezed her eyes shut again, hoping to keep the tears from sliding down her cheeks. She was stronger than this, wasn’t she?
A noise from above drew her attention.
A form slipped from the edge. “I’m coming for you, Terra.”
“You can’t, Jack. Your arm! Just lower the rope to me.”
He was next to her before she finished the sentence. “I’ll do better than that. Grab on to me and hold on. I brought a rescue tether, but you can’t get it on without risking a fall. With my bum arm, I risk losing us both. But hold on tight, okay?”
Using his legs, he pushed closer to her. She reached over and climbed onto his back. She held on with her life, for her life. She felt the strength of his toned physique, the muscles ridged in his back. “Are you sure I’m not hurting you?”
“Seriously?”
“Your arm, Jack. You were shot yesterday. You’re still weak.”
“I’m not too weak to save you, Terra. Although, I didn’t have time to set up my gear, so this could be a bumpy ride up.” He lifted his face. “Okay, Owen!”
The rope lifted them higher, and Jack used his legs to practically walk up the cliff so they weren’t slamming against it. They reached the ledge. Jack continued forward from vertical to horizontal without even stumbling. He stopped and Terra climbed from his back. She bent over her thighs to catch her breath and slow her racing heart.
Owen sat on a horse where the rope had been tied to the saddle horn, using the horse as an anchor. Owen grinned as he hopped off. “Basic cow horse training.”
Jack laughed. “Owen came up with the idea to use the horses. He called them, and they followed his voice and brought the gear I packed.”
“See? I told you he was like a horse whisperer,” she said.
“Not like. He is.” Jack’s gaze turned dark as though he only now contemplated their near-death experience.
“You came for me.” She swallowed the tears building in her throat. “Thank you.”
“Did you have any doubt that I would?”
“I wasn’t sure you would even know . . .”
Terra’s knees shook. She assisted Jack in freeing himself from the ropes, though maybe he didn’t need her help, but it was the least she could do.
“Terra.”
The way he said her name, she lifted her gaze to meet his. The wind whipped around them, but his strong, steady form was unyielding, and it shielded her. In the moonlight she could make out his chiseled features and the longing in his eyes.
“I never stopped thinking about you,” he said.
Though barely detectable, she didn’t miss his sudden wince.
“You’re in pain.” She finished disentangling him from the gear.
No one ever would have known the guy’s agony or just how significant it had been for him to scale the cliff to Terra, even with Lilly lowering him slowly down the ridge. He kept in such good shape that the strength of his entire body made up for his injured arm.
She looked up into his eyes again, her breathing ridiculously fast. The strength in Jack’s heart and mind had to make up for his past mistakes.
She saw that now.
Would it make up for her mistake of telling him she couldn’t go there with him?
Jack stepped back and moved to Briggs, leaving a cold vacuum in the space where he’d been. She feared that he wouldn’t be willing to risk pursuing a relationship with her, after all. And this time, that was all on her.
Owen took Jack’s place and stood near Terra. “Are you all right?”
Terra hugged her brother, holding back sobs of relief.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Terra,” Owen whispered in her ear. “You should go to Jack. He needs you.”
She eased from Owen, surprised to hear that from him. He released her. Terra had to make the first move. Jack was leaving that to her. She turned and strode to Jack, who knelt next to Briggs.
Rising to his feet, Jack sighed. Terra rushed to him and wrapped her arms around him. Without hesitation, he held her good and tight the way she liked as she pressed her face into his chest and breathed in his masculine scent of mountain and pine and sweat. She shuddered as adrenaline rushed out of her.
Terra started to pull away, but he wouldn’t let go. She could handle that. Finally, he relaxed enough that she eased away, though she could have stayed in his arms forever. She needed to talk.
“I’m sorry for what I said to you in the hospital.”
“I understand being afraid of losing someone. I almost lost you on this mountain, Terra.” He held her at arm’s length. “I lost you before, too, because I was stupid, and I walked away from the best thing in my life.”
I love you enough to let you go. Because he’d loved her enough to sacrifice. But how did he feel about her now?
She pressed her hand against his cheek. “Stop. You were wounded. Trying to prove yourself. Trying to prove something you didn’t need to prove. Besides, I forgive you.”
He smiled for her—that smile boasting warmth and dimples, edged with the pain and exhaustion of the last few days. Longing filled his gaze, emanated from his presence, and maybe he didn’t have the strength to hide from her something she knew had been there just under the surface the whole time since he’d returned to Montana.
Terra stood on her toes and leaned in to kiss Jack. He reeled her in much closer and kissed her. Gently—Owen stood there, after all—but she sensed the love Jack held back, the passion he reined in.
She ended the kiss. “Where do we go from here?”
Flashlights shone in the forest. A helicopter suddenly swooped in close and shined a line directly on them. Terra and Jack stepped apart.
Nathan rushed forward from the forest and shouted over the noisy chopper. “Oh, thank goodness, you guys are safe. I thought we were going to be too late to save the day.” He directed the beam of light to the ground. “I see you got Briggs.”
“I shot him in self-defense,” Jack said. “He shot at Terra. So, yeah, self-defense.”
Nathan holstered his weapon. “Terra, your dad is in the hospital. He’s going to be okay. Except he could be charged because of his involvement in the trafficking. I don’t know what will happen, exactly. The FBI is involved now.”
“As I figured they eventually would be. The artifact. Does anyone know where it is?”
“I think I might,” Owen said.
SIXTY-FOUR
Hours later, Terra stood with Jack and Nathan in the barn.
Owen was holding a pitchfork and moving hay around. “I startled Gramps one day. I guess he thought I was still in town. He was out here shoveling hay. I thought it was strange then. Now I think I might know what he was up to.”
Jack scratched his chin. “Why don’t we just ask him?”
“Not to alarm anyone, but he’s in the hospital too,” Nathan said, “getting checked out. The EMTs thought he looked pale and sweaty. With the trauma
he experienced, they feared he might be having a heart attack, but it’s just a precaution.”
“What?” Terra asked. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I’m telling you now. There’s been a lot going on, okay?” Nathan lifted his hand, a half apology.
“There. I feel something.” Owen dropped to his knees.
“Wait.” Nathan pulled on gloves. “I’ll take it from here, Owen. This is one convoluted mess, and I wouldn’t want someone to have a reason to point at you.”
Owen nodded. “Right. That makes sense. Already easy to do if this is it and it’s in my barn.”
Nathan slid the box out. Jack and Terra crouched closer and shined their flashlights as Nathan gently opened it.
A thick gold mesh crown filled with colorful jewels reflected the light. Terra gasped. “So, the murders, all of it, was over this.” Terra noticed a stone tablet in the box behind the crown. “Looks like the rest of the corner that I found. An ancient cuneiform-inscribed tablet. It must go with the crown for some reason. Some information about whoever wore it.”
Maybe Jim had taken this to his cabin, but had he dropped it? Broken the piece off? Then he decided he wasn’t the one to keep it? She hoped they could eventually put all the pieces together.
“Gramps did know where it was all this time. He lied to Marcus.” Terra crossed her arms. “Why would he do that? He risked our lives. He could have turned it over to him.”
“Your grandfather probably believed his only bargaining chip was the artifact, and likely feared that Briggs would kill you all once he got his hands on it,” Jack said. “Robert is shrewd, Terra. I have no doubt he made the right call here. He was simply buying time until someone else came to save the day.”
Owen stood and leaned against a post. “That makes sense. I think after Jim was killed, Gramps hired someone to break into the safe so he could say the item was stolen if ever asked about it. He could claim he didn’t know what it was. He’d just taken it for a friend. And then it was stolen. No harm, no foul—at least in his mind.”
“And what was he planning to do with it then?” Terra shook her head.
“You know, we could just ask Gramps,” Owen said, “but if he’s in danger of having a heart attack, I agree that all this can wait. We know the main player now.”
“Briggs mentioned to me that with Neva taken out, he would have to deliver the artifact himself.” Terra sighed. All this murder. Leif had definitely been tightening the screws around Briggs’s operation.
“We learned that Neva and Jocelyn Porcella, daughter of the Bar Wars owners, had been close friends in high school,” Nathan said. “We are looking into that relationship, and the private auction house activities. Neva might have traveled back from Algiers with items or to Algiers with items. Back and forth to the auction house, or to secure items for collectors.”
“So that could be why Leif wanted to plant the murder weapon—another part of Briggs’s network he wanted to take down. But who was this crown heading to?” Terra asked. “Who had Marcus sold it to—some wealthy rancher collector here in Montana?”
“That part of the investigation is still ongoing.”
“The artifact isn’t worth the cost of so many lives,” Jack said.
“Which brings me to this,” Terra said. “I’d like to know exactly what it is worth. Can I borrow your cell?”
Nathan handed it over, and Terra used it to call Jeremy.
“You know his number?” Jack asked.
She shrugged. “Come on, I’ve called him plenty of times.”
Jeremy answered, despite the late hour.
“Hey, it’s Terra,” she said. “You texted that you had more information. What can you tell me?”
“I can tell you the FBI Art Crime Division is closing in on buyers and sellers in a big trafficking ring. They were already here today because I’d been asking questions. I happened to overhear something about an auction house operating out of a bar there in Big Rapids.”
Terra shared a look with Nathan and Jack. “Anything else?”
“Yes. I tracked the piece you showed me to one of fifteen thousand that have gone missing in Iraq since the 2003 invasion.”
“I’m looking at a golden crown and a tablet right now. I heard the word Nimrud. What would that be worth?”
Jeremy released a breath. “Nimrud was an ancient Assyrian Mesopotamia city, a thriving metropolis from 1350 BC to 610 BC. Much of the Nimrud collection was thought lost but then discovered in a vault. That’s probably the only reason it wasn’t looted and lost forever during the Iraq Museum looting in 2003. Still, some of the collection was smuggled out of the country. Something like fifteen thousand items are still missing today. If this is one of those pieces from the Nimrud collection, I would say it could be worth millions. But maybe . . . now . . . it can now be returned to Iraq.”
Millions? She steadied her voice. “Okay. I appreciate your work on this, Jeremy.” She started to end the call—
“Terra?”
“Yes.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s over. The bad guys are dead.”
“Congratulations, I think.”
“Thanks, Jeremy.”
“Don’t end the call yet. I’m not done.”
Aware that three sets of eyes were watching her, she said, “Listen, Jeremy, I really can’t talk right now.”
“Are you and that detective together?”
Seriously? She locked eyes with Jack. Warmth flooded her. “I hope so.”
SIXTY-FIVE
Jack wanted to rush down the sterile hallways to Aunt Nadine’s hospital room, but he took it slow and easy. He might need to get his wound looked at—and soon. No telling what he’d done to his arm last night while fighting with Briggs/Gray and then getting Terra up that cliff to safety.
He’d do it all again, of course. Whatever was necessary.
But right now, he gritted his teeth because fire burned through his arm. He’d give the NSAIDs some time to take effect. Now that he had answers about the murders, he could take a few days to recover.
Jack entered Aunt Nadine’s room and found her sitting up and smiling. She was her old self again. Jack had learned from his neighbor that Aunt Nadine had woken up on the sidewalk outside her house disoriented and confused. She could have gotten lost. Succumbed to the elements.
He exhaled his relief. She sat safe and secure in that hospital bed. A bump on her head, but that was all.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner.” He grabbed her hand, hoping she understood just how much she meant to him.
“Did you get him? Did you get that murderer, Jack?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I know how hard this has been on you.” Aunt Nadine sighed as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”
Jack released her hand and crossed his arms. Was this about his dad? He didn’t think he could go through this again.
“Growing up, you were so driven to prove yourself. You said you wanted to be a hero. You had to do something to prove you weren’t like your father.”
Jack covered his eyes, released a pent-up sigh, then dropped his hand. “Aunt Nadine, I—”
“Don’t interrupt me. I have to get this out. I should have told you this long ago.”
“Okay. I’m listening.”
“You’re just like your father.”
Jack wanted to turn his back. Not this. Not now.
“You don’t understand. He was a hero, Jack. Your father was a good guy. He . . . he took down some bad guys in a drug cartel.”
Okay. Aunt Nadine . . . His heart cracked. He didn’t think there was anything left to break.
“Before you were born,” she said. “He worked undercover for the DEA. He was a hero. The story was that, unfortunately, he had played his role so well that he’d also become addicted to drugs. He quit the job. Got into rehab. H
e got a desk job at the county. Met your mother and got married. Had a baby—you, Jack. But the truth is that he was never addicted to drugs. The brother of the cartel gang leader your father took down found him. Your father’s death was actually a murder, as was your mom’s car accident.”
What? Jack found the chair next to the wall and eased into it. He rested his head in his hands. “How do you know this?”
“Before I took you in, I demanded answers from his superiors and was silenced with the truth. I could never speak a word of it, or else I could bring danger to myself and to you. The story for the news was that he had struggled with addiction and that he committed suicide. I know it’s not fair for a hero to go down with such a dark story, a lie. I see now how that affected you, but that was for our safety, Jack. Please don’t jeopardize your safety by digging up that past. I simply thought you should know that you are a hero like your father was a hero.”
The news stunned Jack. More than anything, he wanted to believe her words, but his aunt struggled with dementia and could be confused. He wasn’t sure he trusted her story. If he did any digging of his own, he could bring danger to Aunt Nadine’s door. He would give it some time and speak with her about it again, but right now Jack chose to believe this new truth about his father.
A fiftyish woman wearing a white coat and stethoscope entered. “I’m Dr. Presser.” She flashed a smile. “Just call me Carol.”
“Hi, Carol,” both Jack and Aunt Nadine said simultaneously.
“I spoke briefly with your primary doctor, who filled me in on the dementia you’ve been experiencing.”
“I don’t have dementia. He keeps telling me that. Just a few memory problems.”
Jack kept his face straight.
Carol hesitated as though considering her next words. “I think you could be experiencing a reaction to your anxiety medication. That, combined with the fact you have very low levels of vitamin B. Either or the combination of both can cause symptoms of dementia. We’re switching up your medication, and I’m prescribing vitamins. You could see significant improvement in your memory.”
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