by Laura Scott
In minutes they were surrounded in darkness, only slivers of light from the moon shining through the trees offering relief.
The silence stretched in a way that was abnormal. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck lifted in warning. He desperately wished he had a decent weapon on hand but hadn’t anticipated needing one at a wedding.
Since the penknife was all he had, he opened the blade and clutched it lightly in his right hand, keeping himself positioned in front of Chelsey. He wanted to go on the move, to get as far away from here as possible, but knew her dress would hinder their ability to make a clean getaway.
Better to stand his ground, taking out the enemy if that was the source of the rustling. He’d prefer any other animal to the shooter, except maybe a bear.
“Duncan? I’m cold.”
Chelsey’s plaintive tone sounded as loud as a scream ripping through the night. “Shh,” he whispered, without taking his gaze from the wooded area surrounding them.
He was close enough to feel her go tense. “What’s out there?”
“Don’t talk.” He bent down to put his mouth near her ear, in an effort to keep his voice as quiet as possible. “Scoot back into the crevasse as far as you can.”
There was a slight rustling from her dress as she did as he’d asked.
He thought about his phone, and quickly pulled it out of his pocket. He didn’t turn it on—the light would betray their location—but pressed the device into her hands. He didn’t say anything but didn’t need to. Chelsey was smart and would know without being told to use the phone as a way to get out of here if something happened to him.
Of course, she’d have to hike to a location where there was cell reception first.
Duncan straightened and widened his stance. He held the penknife in a loose grip, keeping the blade hidden at his side.
There was no doubt that he’d give his life to protect Chelsey’s. Whoever was out there would have to kill him in order to get to her.
A familiar calm came over him, reminding him of his days in Afghanistan. He couldn’t go into battle distracted, so he cleared his mind, focusing on the sounds and scents around him.
He heard the rustling sound again and he pinpointed it as coming from his left. He debated switching the blade to his left hand. He’d been taught to fight with either hand, even though his right was his dominant one. Since he hadn’t been practicing the way he should have, he decided to keep the knife in his right hand, hoping the intruder wouldn’t expect him to have a weapon and that he could use the element of surprise to his advantage.
Minutes passed with agonizing slowness, but the longer Duncan stood there, the more convinced he was that someone was out there. Animals didn’t move with the pattern he was hearing. First rustling, then silence. Rustling, then more silence.
When he caught a glimpse of movement, he knew the intruder was close. He hoped and prayed that the dirt he’d smeared over his light clothes was enough to hide him. When a burst of movement came directly toward him, he was ready.
The man didn’t appear to have a gun which gave Duncan a bit of hope. He waited until the guy was close before using the knife.
A burst of light came from behind him, blinding the assailant. The man lifted his arm in an attempt to block the light, giving Duncan the precious seconds he needed to take him down. They hit the solid earth with a thud. They rolled for a couple of feet, each vying for the upper hand.
But the guy wasn’t about to give up so easily. It didn’t take long for Duncan to realize he was in a brutal fight for his life.
One he didn’t dare lose.
THREE
Chelsey watched in horror as Duncan and a man wearing black wrestled on the ground. The light of Duncan’s cell phone glinted off something shiny and her heart squeezed as she realized it was a knife.
Duncan’s knife? It looked bigger than she remembered and realized with a sick sense of dread the man in black must have one, too.
Their grunts and groans as they struggled were difficult to watch. Yet despite how much she wanted to, she couldn’t tear her gaze away. The more they struggled, the more she realized they were evenly matched. She couldn’t just stand here, she needed to help. To do something.
Her gaze landed on the pile of logs Duncan had gathered for their fire. Reaching for the biggest and heaviest one, she picked it up and took a step toward the fighting men.
Using Duncan’s phone as a flashlight, she waited until the man in black was on top of Duncan before making her move. She had to be careful not to blind Duncan as the men fought to have the upper hand. She held her breath and brought the log down on the side of his head with all her strength. A loud whack echoed through the night.
The man groaned and must have loosened his grip, because Duncan flipped him over and quickly disarmed him. Looming over him, Duncan held the man’s larger knife at his throat.
“Who are you?”
The man’s eyes were closed, his entire body limp as if he were unconscious.
Her stomach lurched. She put a hand to her mouth. Oh no! Had she killed him?
“Chelsey? Get me a couple of those strips we cut from your dress.”
Duncan’s hoarse voice spurred her into action. She tossed the log back on the pile with distaste and went over to where they’d cut several strips off her dress to use as extra protection for her feet.
She brought them to Duncan and watched as he quickly bound the man’s wrists and ankles.
“He’s not dead?” Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper.
“No, just out cold.” Duncan was breathing heavily as he glanced up at her. “Thanks.”
She gave a shaky nod, relieved that she’d been able to help. “Now what?”
Duncan let out a sigh. He patted the man down. Lifting the man’s slacks, she could see a gun strapped to his ankle. Duncan took the weapon along with the ankle holster and picked up the man’s larger knife, with a grim satisfaction. “We need to move.”
“Move where?” She didn’t understand what he was saying. “I thought hiking at night was too dangerous?”
“It is.” Duncan rose to his feet, grimacing a bit as if he were in pain. “But we don’t have a choice. This guy is a professional. No ID, nothing to indicate who he’s working for. We can’t assume that he’s alone, there could be others out there.”
“Others?” She didn’t like the sound of that and moved closer to Duncan while throwing a furtive glance over her shoulder. There was nothing to see in the inky darkness, yet she could easily imagine someone hiding out there. “Wouldn’t anyone working with him have rushed forward to help once you began to struggle?”
“Maybe. Or maybe they’ve spread out to cover more ground, no way to know for sure.”
She felt as if she’d been dropped in an alternate universe. She managed a family hotel, a place were nice people came to celebrate a birthday or their anniversary—not a place where men dressed in black came out of the darkness, searching for her with the intent to kill.
Was Duncan right? Had Brett somehow gotten involved in something sinister? As much as it was difficult to imagine, it was also the only thing that made sense.
And she couldn’t help thinking about the crazy story he’d told Duncan about being hired as protection duty for a nearby rancher.
Was Elroy Lansing a part of this? As the only rancher in the immediate area, he must have been the one Brett was talking about.
“Let’s go.” Duncan took her arm. “We need to move.”
“But—are we going to leave him here?” She glanced doubtfully at the unconscious man. “What if wild animals find him?”
“I’m sorry, but we have to. I told you, I don’t think he’s on the mountain alone. His team will find him before the wild animals get to him. Trust me, we need to be long gone when they do.”
She couldn’t argue his logic. “All right.”
“First we’ll wrap your feet.” Duncan gestured for her to sit, and took several moments wrapping her feet in the remaining strips. Then he handed her the last one. “I need you to wrap this around my arm.”
“Your arm?” She frowned, taking in his mud-stained shirt. “You’re hurt?”
“It’s a minor cut. But I don’t want to leave a blood trail for anyone to follow.” As he spoke, he stripped off his filthy shirt and turned so that she could see his arm. There was a three-inch cut on his bicep, oozing blood.
“It’s going to get infected.” First the dirty shirt, and now a strip from her gown.
“It will be fine for now.” Duncan’s tone was calm. “Just do your best.”
Swallowing hard, she took the last strip from her dress and wrapped it around the wound, tucking the end over into itself to help keep it in place. His skin was warm to the touch, making her shiver with awareness.
Stop it. She gave herself a mental shake. What kind of woman lost her groom-to-be in a horrific murder and then noticed another man? A terrible woman. It was wrong on so many levels. She must be losing her grip on reality. This must be a weird reaction to the violence around her.
Duncan was an old childhood friend, like Brett. Nothing more.
“Okay, let’s go.” Duncan shrugged back into his shirt, helped her put his jacket back on, then took her hand.
“Where?” She tripped over a rock and might have fallen if he hadn’t held her up.
For several long moments he didn’t respond. He led the way without the aid of his phone flashlight app. She understood he was trying to preserve the phone battery, but that wouldn’t matter much if they fell on their faces and ended up rolling like fallen logs down the mountain.
When they were far enough away from their makeshift camp, he lowered his voice and spoke in a whisper as if worried the man they’d left unconscious and bound might be able to hear. “Up the mountain.”
Up? Was he joking? She couldn’t climb a mountain in the darkness.
In a wedding dress.
Yet that’s exactly what she did. It was slow going, especially because of her lack of decent footwear. Duncan took his time, choosing their path carefully. She followed on his heels, doing her best to step where he did, wincing when sharp rocks and sticks poked at her feet. He shortened his stride because of her, and she was grateful. Despite how painstakingly slow they were moving, she felt herself growing breathless with exertion.
She was clearly out of shape, because Duncan acted like this was a stroll in the park. She tried to control her breathing so she didn’t sound like a wounded grizzly. Between her aching feet and her shortness of breath, she was slowing them down. What she wouldn’t give for a four-wheeler. A minibike. Even a horse. She’d learned to ride when her family had moved to Wyoming, but the hotel kept her too busy to have horses of her own.
She took a step. And another. Winced when she stepped on a rock, then took another.
Chelsey had no idea what time it was. Or how long they’d been climbing. But when Duncan came to an abrupt halt, she plowed into him from behind.
“Oomph.” Her face smooshed into his back.
“You okay?” His low voice was barely audible.
“Yes.” In contrast to his ability to be quiet, her whisper sounded like a shout.
Duncan turned and gently tugged her down to the ground. She wanted to collapse against him but forced herself to be strong.
“Wait here.” He moved away without making a sound. How did he do that?
Suddenly it occurred to her that she was holding him back. That if not for his willingness to protect her, he’d be long gone and safe.
Instead he’d fought an assailant for her. Led her through the darkness and put her needs before his. Caring for her in a way no one ever had.
In the months since her mother’s death, she hadn’t felt very close to God. Hadn’t been able to feel His presence, even at church. Brett hadn’t been much of a churchgoer, and she’d skipped several Sunday sermons doing things with him.
But now, she knew God was still watching over her, despite how she’d strayed.
Humbled, she closed her eyes and thanked God for bringing Duncan to Jackson, Wyoming, and for providing him the strength and courage he needed to keep her safe.
* * *
He stared out into the darkness, surveying the area.
Nope. He didn’t like it.
The water source was fine, but they weren’t far enough from their previous campsite. In fact, he’d been pretty much following the stream they’d discovered earlier. They needed to keep moving, but he could tell Chelsey was losing strength. Her ragged breathing concerned him. The altitude was getting to her, and they weren’t even that far up the slope.
He bent down to drink some water, then realized she was still wearing his jacket so he wasn’t able to bring water back to Chelsey using his pockets the way he had before.
Sitting back on his heels, he tried to think of what their best decision would be.
Keep going? Or stay here?
Neither option was very appealing.
He estimated the hour to be roughly two in the morning. It would be reasonable to stay here and rest a bit until dawn. It wasn’t as if they could move quickly anyway. In fact, he’d worried that her white dress would be a beacon to any of the other men who may be crawling the mountain looking for them.
Okay, they’d stay. For now. He stood and quickly made his way back to where Chelsey waited.
But he didn’t see her. His heart squeezed and he raked his gaze over the area, peering through the darkness. The moonlight offered just enough light that he could see the trees and rocks around him.
“Chelsey.” He tried not to let his internal panic show in his voice.
There was nothing but silence for a long moment.
“Here.” He caught a glimpse of white as she lifted her arm to wave.
His shoulders slumped in relief. In his absence, she’d covered her white gown in dirt and leaves, doing a good job of blending in with the foliage. She’d obviously learned from him and he had to smile at her ingenuity.
Thankfully she was okay.
He crossed over to take her hand in his, drawing her upright. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to pull her into his arms and hold her close.
No need to let her know how scared he’d been.
“This way.” He took her hand and led her over several large rocks to the stream. When she saw the water, she dropped down and leaned over to drink.
“Thank you.” Her gratitude made him uncomfortable. So far he hadn’t done the best job of protecting her. They should have continued hiking while they’d had light or found a better place to hide for the night. He should have doused the fire.
Maybe if he’d done a better job, the bad guys wouldn’t have found them.
“We’ll stay here,” he said, gesturing to the trio of trees, “until dawn.”
“Can you make another fire?” She gamely followed him to the meager shelter.
“No. That’s how they found us the first time.”
“Okay.” She shivered, and even in the darkness he could tell she was apprehensive.
“It will be okay. You’re going to rest against me, and I’ll keep you warm.” He sat with his back up against two of the three tree trunks, and gently pulled her down beside him. She stretched out so that she was lying against his chest, his tux jacket pulled up over her back like a blanket. He wrapped his arms around her and hoped she wouldn’t become too chilled.
The last thing he needed was for her to get sick.
She relaxed against him, clearly exhausted from their brief hike. He kept his arms around her, hoping she’d absorb some of his warmth.
Sharing their body heat was essential for staying alive, but he couldn’t deny that holding Chelse
y was nice. He closed his eyes, reminding himself that not only had Chelsey just lost her fiancé, but he wasn’t in the market for a relationship. Losing the woman he’d loved several years ago to a violent crime was bad enough. Amanda had been brutally attacked and robbed on her way home from work late one night and died from bleeding into her brain. Sitting at her bedside for almost a full week, he couldn’t believe it when she was gone. No way was he opening his heart to that kind of pain again.
Besides, his life was back in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, not here in Jackson, Wyoming. Sure, the Grand Teton mountains were incredibly beautiful, but his dad, his sister, his nephew, his niece and friends were all back home.
Everyone important in his life.
Although, that wasn’t exactly true any longer. Seeing Chelsey again made him realize how much he cared about her.
But only as a friend. He couldn’t afford to lose another piece of himself the way he had after Amanda had died.
FOUR
Chelsey huddled against Duncan, his tux tucked over her shoulder, reveling in his warmth and strength despite the eerie darkness surrounding them.
How was it possible that she felt so safe in his arms?
She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, knowing rest would be critical to her ability to hike out of there in the morning. But the rush of adrenaline, the aftermath of their close call, raced through her veins. Her mind kept going back to those terrifying moments when she thought they both might die at the hands of the assailant.
“Chelsey, please try to relax.” His deep voice rumbled in his chest beneath her ear. “Morning will be here soon and we’ll need to be ready to move.”
“Okay. Are you going to try to sleep, too?” she whispered.
“Yes.” His simple answer surprised her. “But not until you do, because your tenseness is keeping me awake.”
A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. It never failed to amaze her how in tune he was to her emotions. Or maybe it was just being in danger that was bringing them so close together. She drew a deep breath in, then let it out, trying to relax the tension from her muscles.