by LENA DIAZ,
“If you rip out your stitches again, I’m going to let you bleed to death. Maybe then you’ll finally learn your lesson and do what the doctor tells you to do.”
“If you let me bleed to death, I won’t be around to learn my lesson.”
“Technicalities. Seriously, Colin. This is insane. It’s only been three weeks since the shooting. The most recent shooting. Good grief. You’ve been shot twice in less than two months. You should be home in bed instead of driving me halfway across the mountain.” She grimaced. “I mean at your parents’ home, since The Evil Ones destroyed your beautiful house.”
He gave her an admonishing look and steered around a fallen tree. “You need to quit calling your mom and brother The Evil Ones. They aren’t evil. They’re...mentally unstable. They need our sympathy, not our scorn.”
“Yes, well. You can give them sympathy. I’ll give them scorn.”
He smiled and shook his head. A few minutes later, he finally stopped the ATV. “Come on, my little protector,” he teased. “Help me off this thing.”
She hopped down and untied his crutches from the back. “You’re not even supposed to be walking. Who gave you these things anyway? I don’t see how they really help when you’ve been shot in the side. You should—”
He cupped his hand over her mouth. “Maybe you should take up baking again when you’re rattled. My ears could use a rest.”
She handed him the crutches and then put her hands on her hips. “Not funny. And I’m pretty sure I’m never baking again. It reminds me too much of my mother.”
He eased down from the driver’s seat and leaned on his crutches. “I heard she’s doing surprisingly well, recovering from her gunshot wounds and responding to chemo and radiation. And there’s hope for Brian too. The bullet lodged in his skull but they’ve managed to control the swelling. It’s a miracle, really, that both of them are recovering so well.”
She walked beside him, bending down to move sticks and rocks out of his way as he slowly ambled across the grass. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen either of them.”
He stopped.
She looked up at him, her brow furrowed. “Are you okay? Do you need me to bring the ATV over here so you can sit?”
“Why haven’t you visited them? The trials are a long way off. You should take advantage of this time while they’re both in the hospital and you can see them every day if you want.”
She shook her head. “I chose you, Colin. I’ll never make that mistake again. I’ll always choose you.”
He sighed heavily. “That’s what I was afraid you’d say.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
He smoothed the hair back from her face. “I was wrong to ever say that to you, about choices. I was bitter, angry. I wanted you to put me first, before all others.”
“I do. I will. I always should have.”
He shook his head. “No. I mean, yes, we love each other. We should always look out for each other. But there’s room in our lives for other people too. I never should have expected you to choose between me and your family. No matter what they’d done, no matter how sick or disturbed they may be, they’re still your mother and brother. And I know that deep inside, you can’t help but love them. I want you to know that it’s okay to love them. And if you want to see them, I’m okay with it. I’ll even go with you if you want.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Dang it, Colin. You’re making me cry again.”
“I really do need to buy some stock in that tissue company you mentioned before.”
She smiled through her tears. “You’re such a good person. Far more forgiving than I think I’ll ever be. But thank you. I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I ask. Now, I’d really appreciate it if you’d pay attention to your surroundings for a moment.”
“I am.”
He sighed and motioned with his head over her shoulder. “Not to me. To where we are. Turn around.”
She did, then gasped. “Colin. It’s...we’re...oh my gosh. The beautiful meadow, and the mountains over there, and, oh, the waterfall. It’s still pristine, so perfect. This is our secret spot, where we used to sneak off for hours in high school.” She pointed to a spot near the waterfall. “That’s where we first kissed.”
“No. It isn’t.”
She frowned and turned back to him. “It isn’t?”
He shook his head. “The first time we kissed was on the playground in second grade. You knocked me down and planted a big sloppy wet one right on my lips.” He grinned. “That’s the day I fell in love with you.”
She blinked and wiped at a new flood of tears. “Oh, Colin. That’s the sweetest thing. I didn’t remember that.”
“I remember every minute of my life with you.”
“Tissues, dang it. I need a tissue.” She swiped at her tears again.
“I’ll kiss all your tears away in a minute. But there’s one more thing you need to see. Turn around again. And this time, look down in the valley, on the other side of the waterfall.”
She turned around. “What am I looking for, exactly?”
“Something orange.”
“Orange? I don’t...” She slowly turned back to face him. “Are those...property markers?”
“They’re property stakes, yes. They mark the corners where the foundation of our new home is going to be built.”
“Our new home?”
“I bought this land, our special place. And I want to build a future with you here, just like we always dreamed.” He shifted one of his crutches and reached into his pocket, then held out a black velvet box toward her.
Her hands shook as she opened the lid. “That has to be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Not even close.”
She glanced up at him in question.
“You,” he said. “Nothing and no one is more beautiful than you.”
She shook her head. “Those pain pills must be making you loopy. You’re getting all mushy and silly.”
“Then I must be doing this right.” He shifted both crutches to one hand, and started to bend down.
She grabbed his arms, stopping him. “Don’t you dare get down on one knee. I’ll never be able to get you up again.”
He grimaced and straightened. “You might be right. But I wanted this to be perfect for you.”
She pulled the ring out of the box and handed it to him. “Just pop the question okay? That’s all I need for this to be perfect.”
He grinned. “Peyton Sterling, will you marry me?”
“Yes!” She was so excited she could barely hold still as he slid the ring onto her finger. She wiggled it in the sunlight, watching it sparkle. Then she threw her arms around his neck. “I love you, Colin McKenzie. More than you could ever know.”
“And I love you, the future Mrs. McKenzie. Always have, always will.”
“Would you just kiss me already?”
He was laughing as he pressed his lips to hers.
* * *
Look for the final installment of award-winning
author Lena Diaz’s The Mighty McKenzies
miniseries, Undercover Rebel, next month!
And don’t miss the previous books in the series:
Smoky Mountains Ranger
Smoky Mountains Special Agent
Available now from Harlequin Intrigue!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Missing in the Mountains by Julie Anne Lindsey.
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Missing in the Mountains
by Julie Anne Lindsey
Chapter One
Emma Hart couldn’t shake the unsettling notion that something was wrong. The sensation had pestered her all day, needling away at her calm. Though she hadn’t said so, her sister and housemate, Sara, seemed to feel it too. Sara had hunched over her cell phone and a notebook most of the day, barely speaking or touching her dinner. It wasn’t like Sara to be inside short of a blizzard, yet there she was. All day.
Emma had thrown herself into the tedium of housework and the exhaustion of new-mommy duties, hoping to keep her mind off the inexplicable feeling that trouble was afoot. Nothing had worked. The prickle over her skin that had raised the hair on her arms and itched in her mind since dawn refused to let up, even now as the gorgeous setting sun nestled low on the horizon between distant mountains. If there was a silver lining, it was that the peculiar day was finally nearing its end, and tomorrow was always better.
She crossed her ankles on the old back-porch swing and shifted her attention to the beautiful gold and apricot hues spilling over everything in sight, including her perfect baby boy, Henry. Emma hoisted him off her lap and wiggled him in the air until a wide toothless grin emerged. There was the thing she lived for. A smile spread over her lips as she brought him down to her chest. “Someday I’m going to teach you to rope and ride, the way your granddaddy taught Sara and me.” It would have been nice if Henry’s father was around to teach him those things the way her father had taught her, but it didn’t do to dwell on what wasn’t, not when the things that were tended to be so fleeting.
Henry’s daddy was a soldier on leave when they’d met, but he’d been raised a cowboy. Brought up on a ranch like hers, not too far from there, but he’d been deployed before she’d known she was pregnant, and despite the voice message she’d left asking him to call her, he never had. Of course, that wasn’t a surprise since the next time she’d tried to call him the number was no longer in service. The local news hadn’t announced his death the way they often did when a local soldier was lost, so she could only assume he’d survived that “eight week” mission he’d gone on nearly a year ago and had simply chosen to avoid her after his return. Whenever she thought of how his selfishness would force Henry to grow up without a father, Emma was glad he hadn’t died on that mission. This way, if she ever saw him again, she could kill him herself.
Emma forced down the bitter knot rising in her throat and worked a pleasant smile over her lips. “You will always be enough for me,” she promised Henry, “and I will be enough for you. Whatever that means on any given day. Always.” She nuzzled his sun-kissed cheek, then stretched onto her feet as the last orange fingers of the sunlight slid out of view, replaced with the tranquil blues of twilight. “What do you say about a warm bath and fuzzy jammies before your nighttime bottle?” she asked. Now she needed a distraction from the icky feeling that had followed her all day and from the frustration of a man who’d probably forgotten her name.
Emma jumped as the back door flew open, her knuckles colliding sharply with the handle. “What on earth!”
Sara stood on the threshold, one palm on the door, skin pale as the rising moon. “You need to come inside. Now,” she gasped. “Hurry.”
Emma obeyed, and Sara locked the door behind them, then checked the window locks and pulled the curtains. Without speaking again, she moved to the next room and did the same.
“What’s going on?” Emma followed on her sister’s heels, fear riding high in her gut. “Why are you doing that?” They only battened down the hatches if the news predicted heavy winds or rain. “It’s a beautiful night. There’s no storm coming.”
“You’re wrong about that,” Sara mumbled.
Emma hurried around her sister, forcing herself into Sara’s path. “Hey. What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sara shot her a remorseful look, letting her gaze slide briefly to Henry, then back to her work. “I need you to listen to me and do as I say. We have to be quiet.” Her hands trembled as she reached for the nearest light switch and flipped it off. Her face whipped back in Emma’s direction a moment later. “Is your truck in the garage? Or the driveway?”
“Garage.”
“Good.” She nodded, her eyes frantic.
“Hey.” Emma set her hand on Sara’s. “Stop.” Her sister never behaved this way. She was naturally calm to the extreme, cool in a crisis and found the positive in everything. Whatever had her so worked up was enough to make Emma want to pack a bag and move. “You’re scaring me. Tell me what’s going on.”
Fat tears welled in Sara’s eyes. “I can’t.”
“Sara,” Emma demanded, using her most pointed tone without upsetting Henry, “you can tell me anything. You know that. I don’t understand what’s happened. You were fine at dinner.”
Sara snorted, a derisive, ugly sound. “Was I?”
“Weren’t you?” Emma grabbed hold of her sister’s wrist, a lifelong stubborn streak piercing her forced calm.
Before she could answer, a set of headlights flashed over the front window, and Sara froze. “Don’t make any noise,” she said, looking half-ill. “We’re not home.”
Suddenly Sara’s erratic behavior began making sense. “Is this the reason you’re locking us up like Fort Knox?” Emma asked. “You knew someone was coming?” Someone who obviously terrified her. “Who?”
Sara jerked her arm free and went to peek through the living room curtain. “Hide,” she seethed. “You’re in danger. Henry’s in danger. We all are. Now, go! Keep him quiet. Find his pacifier.” Her rasping whisper cut through Emma’s heart, and she pressed her back to the nearest wall, away from the front window.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” Emma shot back in a harsh whisper.
Heavy footfalls rumbled across the porch, and someone rapped against the door in loud, demanding strikes until Emma was sure the door would fall down.
“I’m calling the police,” Emma said. “If you won’t tell me what’s going on, then you can tell them.”
Henry started in her arms. He released a small whimper as the pounding continued.
Sara turned to them. Her eyes were wide, her face the perfect mask of horror and resolve. “Hide first. Call the police after.” She rubbed her palms against her jeans and stepped forward, toward the rattling door.
“Where are you going?”
Sara gave Emma a pleading look, then swallowed hard. “I’m going to answer the door before he breaks it down. If you hide, he’ll assume I’m alone, and you’ll be safe, but I won’t give him what he wants.”
Emma’s stomach twisted and coiled with nausea. “What does he want?”
Sara took another step.
“I won’t leave you.”
Sara shot one determined glance over her shoulder. “Your job is to protect Henry. Mine is to protect you. Now, hide.”
Terror gripped Emma, and she snagged the cordless phone handset from the wall, immediately dialing the local police department. She ducked around the edge of the living room wall, hiding just out of sight in the long hallway that led to the bedrooms. “Come on,” she urged, impatient for the ringing call to connect.
The dead bolt snicked back in the next room. The door swung open on squeaky hinges.
“I’ve already called the police,” Sara said coldly in lieu of a proper greeting.
A choking gasp cracked through the silence a moment later.
Emma sucked air. Horrific images of what could have caused such a sound raced through her head. There were no more words in the silent home. Just the low gurgling of someone desperate for air. Emma prayed the sound wasn’t coming from Sara.
A tinny voice broke through the phone speaker at her ear. “Knox Ridge Police Department.”
Emma inched toward the end of the hall, ignoring the woman on the line. Desperate to know her sister was okay, she counted silently to three, then peeked her head around the corner, chest
tight with fear.
A man in head-to-toe black, a ski mask and leather gloves had one giant hand wrapped around Sara’s throat while she clawed uselessly at his fingers. Her eyes were wild, bulging, her mouth gaping for air. The man raised a pistol in his free hand.
Hot tears rushed over Emma’s eyes. She had the police on the phone, but couldn’t speak. If the man heard her, he might use his gun on Sara. Or on Henry.
Hide. Sara’s desperate voice echoed in Emma’s addled mind. Protect Henry.
“Knox Ridge Police Department,” the woman on the phone repeated. Her small voice suddenly sounded like a booming gong.
Henry bunched his face and opened his quivering lips, a scream poised to break.
Emma took one last too-risky look into the living room, needing assurance her sister hadn’t been choked to death while she’d stood helplessly by and deliberated over what to do next.
The man tossed Sara onto the couch like a rag doll and climbed on top of her in a flash. He lowered his face to hers and growled through the mask. “Who did you tell?” He pinned her hands overhead and pressed them hard into the cushions until they vanished from sight.
“No one.” Sara choked out the words, still coughing and gasping for air. “No one. I have no one to tell. I swear it.”
Henry released a warning cry, and the man’s face snapped in Emma’s direction.
Emma rocked back on socked feet and took off like a bullet down the hallway. Henry bounced and jostled in her arms as she pressed him to her chest and gripped the phone between one ear and shoulder. She slid and scooted as adrenaline forced her legs faster than her feet could find purchase on the hard, slick floors.
“What was that?” the man asked, footsteps already falling through the living room, nearing the hall at a clip.
“Cat!” Sara yelped. “It was only the cat.”
Emma snatched their mean old barn cat off the hallway windowsill on her way to the master bedroom, and she threw him into the space behind her. He’d surely bite her the next time he saw her, but she’d gladly choose to face off with him rather than whoever was attempting to murder Sara.