“We need to be cautious but not paranoid.”

Sarah stepped away from him and reached behind her back to untie her long apron. When she cast aside the pin-striped apron and adjusted the collar on her blouse, Blake was struck by the contrast between the rich teal fabric and her milky skin. A tiny, heart-shaped gold locket nestled in the hollow of her throat.

His fingers itched to caress her, and he actually stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans to keep from reaching out and tracing the path of the delicate gold chain that encircled her neck.

As she crossed the kitchen to hang her apron on a peg near the door, he watched her athletic stride and unconsciously graceful gestures.

Being alone with her might be a mistake.

If so, it was an error in judgment he intended to make repeatedly.

Snowed In

Cassie Miles

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Though born in Chicago and raised in LA, USA TODAY bestselling author CASSIE MILES has lived in Colorado long enough to be considered a semi-native. The first home she owned was a log cabin in the mountains overlooking Elk Creek, with a thirty-mile commute to her work at the Denver Post.

After raising two daughters and cooking tons of macaroni and cheese for her family, Cassie is trying to be more adventurous in her culinary efforts. Ceviche, anyone? She’s discovered that almost anything tastes better with wine. When she’s not plotting Mills & Boon® Intrigue books, Cassie likes to hang out at the Denver Botanical Gardens near her high-rise home.

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To Kersten Bergstrom and Sonny Caporale with congratulations and hopes for a wonderful life together. And, as always, to Rick.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Excerpt

Chapter One

“Slow down, Sarah. The drop on this side of the trail is killer.”

“It’s only sixteen feet.” Sarah Bentley paused to aim her flashlight beam over the edge where the light was swallowed by the dark of a cloudy, moonless night. With a shrug, she resumed walking, her boots crunching on the frozen snow. “I wouldn’t even call this a cliff. It’s a gradual drop-off. You’ve been on ski slopes that were steeper.”

“Not in the middle of the night,” her friend Emily Layton protested. “Not when I wasn’t wearing skis.”

This forest trail led from Bentley’s Bed-and-Breakfast past the drilling site for Hackman Oil, and it followed a relatively straight line, which meant it was the shortest distance between the two points. But shorter didn’t always mean faster. Sarah questioned the logic of taking this route. She halted on the path and turned to face her friend. “Why didn’t we drive?”

“The text message from BOOM said to use the trail.” Emily’s breath formed a frosty little cloud around her wide, usually smiling mouth. “Specifically. The trail.”

“I don’t take orders from those jerks.” She didn’t like BOOM, a radical environmentalist group prone to one stupid thing after another. “What kind of mess am I walking into?”

“I already told you.” Emily rolled her eyes and stamped her foot, acting more like a teenager than a twenty-eight-year-old woman who was about to be a bride. “I got a midnight text that said BOOM was going to send a message to Hackman Oil. They want me to join them and warned me to be quiet and take the forest trail. I needed you to show me the way.”

Sarah pulled on the earflaps of her knit wool cap. She remembered being wakened and putting on her snow pants and parka over her flannel pajamas, but the reason for this middle-of-the-night hike through the frigid February night was still hazy. As a professional innkeeper who had been running the B and B for five years on her own, she should have developed a knack for snapping wide-awake at a moment’s notice, but that talent had always eluded her.

Again, she wondered what she’d gotten herself into. Surely she hadn’t agreed to join forces with BOOM. “What kind of message?”

“A protest. I’m guessing that it’s something like spray painting graffiti on the sides of the trucks.”

“I don’t support the destruction of private property.” Vandalism was never a good solution. Jerks like the leaders of BOOM, which stood for Back Off Our Mountains, caused more problems than they solved.

“I don’t like it, either.” Emily tucked a blond tendril under her cap. “In fact, I’ve decided to quit BOOM.”

“That would make a lovely wedding present for your fiancé.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” she said. “You’re so funny.”

“I think I’ve heard him refer to BOOM. What did he call them?” Sarah couldn’t resist teasing. “Eco-idiots?”

“That was after they dressed up like wolverines to bring attention to that endangered species. Not their finest hour.”

“But very entertaining, especially the guy who got confused and dressed like Hugh Jackman in X-Men. Let me tell you, if Mr. Jackman was endangered, I’d get behind the protest.”

“Most of the time, Jeremy and I have a strict agree-to-disagree policy. We don’t discuss our causes.”

In light of their vast differences of opinion, that was a wise policy. In four days, free-spirited Emily would be getting married at Bentley’s B and B to her army ranger sweetheart, Jeremy Hamilton. Though their ideas might be volumes apart, Emily and Jeremy were on the same page when it came to their love. When they were together, they positively glowed. Sarah didn’t understand their relationship. It could be one of those opposites-attract things. Or it could be kismet. Or Jeremy could be terrific in bed.

Whatever the case, she hoped their passion would be enough to see them through the larger problem: their families. Emily’s father was a liberal senator from California, and Jeremy’s dad was a four-star general. At the wedding, they would come face-to-face for the first time.

When Mr. Dove met Mr. Hawk, Sarah expected fireworks. She patted Emily’s arm. “You have enough to worry about. Let’s go back to bed.”

“We’re not turning back. We need to go to the drill site and talk sense into these guys.”

“Why do you care?” She vaguely recalled a tidbit of gossip. “Didn’t you used to date somebody from BOOM?”

“I’m thinking of you,” Emily said emphatically. “You’re going to get blamed for whatever damage they cause. Your B and B is only a mile and a half away from the drill site, and you’ve been fighting Hackman Oil for years.”

“Legally fighting,” she said, “through sanctioned environmental agencies and the courts and—”

“I know. But how will it look?”

“Good point.” Damage at the drill site would look like she was lashing out and trying to get even. The Hackman Oil attorneys would be thrilled to have a reason to sue her, even if she was totally innocent. “We have to stop them.”

“See? I’m right. I’m watching out for my girl.”

Sarah shone her flashlight beam in the direction of the B and B. “At least, let’s go back and get the truck. Sure, it’s five miles of winding roads to access the site. But driving will still be faster...and warmer.”

“It’s better if we’re quiet. I don’t want Blake to know what I’m doing.”

“Blake Randall?”

“Is there another Blake staying at the B and B?” Emily smirked. Apparently, it was her turn to tease. “Don’t pretend that you didn’t notice him. I saw your eyes melt like big, gooey chocolate drops when he walked through the door tonight.”

“Of course I noticed.” How could she overlook a man who was well over six feet tall and muscular enough to lift a Chevy truck with one hand?

“When you shook his hand, you blushed a darker shade of red than your hair.”

“I’m not a redhead. It’s strawberry-blond. And why shouldn’t Blake know what we’re doing?”

“He’d want to come with us.”

Sarah didn’t see a problem with that. “So?”

“I adore Blake,” Emily said. “He’s going to be the best man at our wedding. But he’s an army ranger, and he has a temper. If he gets ticked off, he might go ballistic.”

“An angry, hulking ranger might be exactly what we need.”

Emily took a step forward. “Let’s keep moving. I want to get this over with.”

Sarah grumbled, “I’m too old for this.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re an ancient thirty-two.”

It felt ancient. Sarah tromped forward. On her right was thick, dark forest. To the left were a few scraggly trees and rocks and the sixteen-foot drop-off. She knew every inch of the land surrounding her B and B and had labeled the nature trails with burnt wood signs so her guests could take hikes and not get lost. This path was called the High Road. If you followed it all the way to the end, beyond the site where Hackman Oil had started drilling, you reached a granite ledge with a panoramic view of the Elk Mountain range outside Aspen. Sadly, that spectacular sight would be blighted by noise pollution from the oil rig left behind after Hackman finished their work. The pristine forest would never look or feel the same.

Using the nonprofit business she ran, the Forest Preservation Society, she’d done everything she could to stop them. In other battles, she’d kept Hackman from drilling in four other locations but had lost this fight which was, ironically, the one closest to her doorstep.

From the path to her right, she saw bright lights shining through the trees, spooking the nocturnal wildlife. This intrusion was so wrong. Frustration and anger surged through her. Though her outrage was caused by the oil company, she could use this energy to argue with the jokers from BOOM.

She veered off the trail and paused at the edge of a wide clearing where she saw a flatbed truck with the Hackman Oil logo, a metal drill pipe stacked in the snow and the derrick hung with lights like a grotesque Christmas tree. A dark-colored van was parked near the entrance to the site. About twenty yards away were four men in parkas and work boots. One of them had a semiautomatic assault rifle slung over his shoulder. They all wore black ski masks.

“Why are they masked?” Emily asked in a whisper.

“There might be surveillance cameras.” If so, Sarah’s presence at the site would be on record as soon as she stepped into the light—an unfortunate fact that would please the Hackman attorneys. “I’m more worried about the assault rifle. They aren’t planning to shoot up the equipment, are they?”

“Liam would never do anything like that.”

“Is that the ex-boyfriend? Liam?”

“Yes.”

Sarah shot her a glare. “Do I need to remind you that you’re getting married in four days?”

“It’s not like that. I’ve been friends with Liam for ten years, and I don’t want to see him thrown in jail.”

Sarah hoped to avoid a similar fate. She was about to drag Emily back to the B and B, but their whispering had attracted the attention of the masked men. The one with the semiautomatic pointed the barrel of his weapon in their direction and yelled, “Who’s there?”

“Don’t shoot.” Sarah pushed the bare branches of shrubs aside and stepped into the light of the clearing. “I came here to talk.”

“Hi, guys.” Emily popped up beside her. “It’s me, Emily.”

“Emily Layton?”

“You sent me a text.” She squinted in their direction. “Where’s Liam?”

A man in a faded red parka stepped forward. “He couldn’t make it, but don’t worry. You can trust me.”

As a general rule, Sarah never trusted anyone who said “trust me.” When Emily started to stroll toward the masked men, she caught hold of her arm. “Stay close to me.”

“Why?”

A lethal weapon was pointed in their direction; Emily shouldn’t need more explanation. “Do you recognize these guys?”

“Not with the masks.”

Sarah called out, “What’s your name?”

“You can call me Ty.” He might have been smiling. It was hard to tell with the ski mask. “We didn’t expect Emily to have company.”

“I’m Sarah Bentley. I own the B and B and I’ve spent years fighting the oil companies.”

He came halfway across the clearing toward them. “Nice to meet you, Sarah.”

“Stop.” She held up her palm. “I mean it. Not one more step.”

“Fine.” He halted.

“I’m not on your side,” she said, “and I sure as hell didn’t come here to participate in any sort of vandalism.”

“Why are you here?”

“To warn you. There’s nothing to be gained by damaging property. Believe me, I’ve done everything possible to stop the drilling, but Hackman followed all the correct procedures. We can’t win this one. You should go home.”

“You’re not giving the orders.”

“I’d be happy to give you an in-depth explanation of my position. First, tell your friend to put his gun down.”

Ty glanced over his shoulder at the other three men, and then he looked back at her. “We’re going to do this my way. If you cooperate, nobody gets hurt.”

“Why would you want to hurt us?” Emily pulled her cell phone from her pocket and held the screen toward him. “Read the text. You invited us.”

Ty held out his hand. “Let me see that text.”

Dutifully, Emily walked toward him.

Sarah was more apprehensive. This felt like a trap. If Emily got too close to Ty, Sarah feared she would never see her friend again. Darting forward, she caught hold of Emily’s wrist above her glove and tugged. “We’re leaving.”

Emily balked. “I’m just going to—”

“Now,” Sarah said.

Ty came at them, moving fast. His arm shot out and he grabbed Emily’s other arm. With a hard yank, he wrenched her away from Sarah’s grasp, pulling so hard that Emily stumbled and fell to one knee. She let out a yelp.

Sarah didn’t have the physical strength to fight with Ty, much less to take on all four men. Their only chance was to run. She drew back her arm and took a swing. Using her heavy-duty metal flashlight, she whacked Ty below the elbow. “Let her go.”

“What the hell?”

Sarah hit him again. He could have fended her off, but Emily was struggling against him. As soon as he released her, Sarah and Emily dashed toward the trees at the edge of the clearing.

A blast of gunfire exploded in the still forest night. The sound rattled her, but she kept going, dragging Emily with her. Those were warning shots. A semiautomatic rifle wouldn’t miss at this distance.

“Stop,” Ty yelled. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Could have fooled me,” she muttered as she and Emily charged through the trees and found the trail. “No flashlights.”

“Right.”

This section wasn’t wide enough for them to go side by side. Sarah clutched Emily’s arm and guided her, managing a clumsy trot. “Stay close. I know this trail.”

From the clearing, she heard Ty crashing through the trees, yelling that he needed a flashlight. As soon as he had light, he’d locate the trail. When he did, he’d be able to run and catch up to them. They needed a different escape route.

Sarah dragged Emily to a full stop beside a granite boulder that bordered the steep side of the trail. She whispered, “We’re going over the edge.”

“Have you done this before?”

“Sure.” That climb had been in the summer in full daylight when she could carefully pick her way. “We can do this.”

“Show me how.”

“Get down on your butt.” She squatted beside the boulder. The cliff wasn’t vertical, but the angle was steep. Below this ledge was a wider area that descended to a winding creek. “Follow me.”

She dug her heels into the crusty snow, bracing herself so she could control her descent and not tumble head over heels. With her gloved hands, she grasped at rocks and clumps of frozen foliage. Emily followed.

Behind them, she heard more shouting and gunfire. The bursts from the semiautomatic were met with single shots. It sounded like a battle. She could only hope that whatever was happening at the clearing would provide enough of a distraction for her and Emily to get away.

Inching slowly and carefully, she was halfway down the hill when she heard a frantic gasp from Emily. “I’m slipping.”

There was no place for Sarah to go. She steadied herself and prepared for impact as Emily collided with her backside. Sarah couldn’t hold them both. Together, they careened the rest of the way down the incline and sprawled at the bottom.

“I’m sorry.” Emily’s voice was a whimper. “Are you okay?”

Sarah wiggled her arms and legs. No broken bones. Tomorrow, there would be bruises. “I’m fine.”

Huddled together at the bottom of the slope, they listened to shooting and yelling and a car engine starting. Emily stared up the hill. Even in the moonless night, Sarah could see the whites of her eyes and her fear.

“What’s happening?” Emily whispered.

“It sounds like they’re fighting somebody else. Maybe somebody from the oil company?” Sarah glanced at her. “We should call the sheriff. Do you have your cell phone?”

“I dropped it in the clearing.”

“Follow me. Try not to make noise.”

Though Sarah wanted to believe they were invisible at the foot of the cliff, she knew better. Anyone who knew about tracking would see the disturbance at the edge where they’d gone over. They needed to put more distance between themselves and the men in ski masks...or the men from the oil company. One was as bad as the other.

She picked her way through the forest. There were no marked paths in this area, but the trees thinned as they got closer to the creek. She paused to listen. “I don’t hear shooting.”

“Is that good?”

Either they’d left or they were spreading out in the forest to search. “I don’t know.”

Crouched beside a boulder, she looked back toward the ledge. In daylight, she would have had a clear view. She saw the beam of a flashlight and pointed. “They’re coming.”

Emily ducked down beside her. “What now?”

“Stay quiet.”

The flashlight beam bobbled along the path. When he passed the boulder where they made their desperate slide, her tension lessened. Maybe he wouldn’t notice their escape route. Maybe they’d be safe.

The beam scanned the forest. Though she knew the light wasn’t powerful enough to penetrate this darkness, she crouched lower, wishing she could disappear.

The light came back toward the granite boulder.

“Emily?” a deep, male voice called out. “Emily, are you out here? It’s Blake.”

Blake—the hulking, angry ranger—had come to their rescue. Sarah was so relieved that she almost burst into the “Hallelujah Chorus.”

Chapter Two

Blake Randall hadn’t expected to start his duties as best man by rescuing the bride and her very attractive maid of honor, but tonight’s action felt a lot more natural than getting decked out in his dress uniform and making a champagne toast. When he spotted the two women at the foot of the cliff, he anchored one hand to a tree at the edge of the path and threw down his belt for them to use as a climbing aid.

Emily grabbed his belt and scrambled up the steep slope and onto the path, where she threw her arms around him for a hug. In spite of the cold and the discomfort and a smear of mud on her cheek, she flashed a bright smile. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was afraid something terrible would happen.”

“Something terrible did happen,” Sarah growled from the bottom. “Four masked men with guns tried to kill us.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Emily called down to her. “I don’t know why they were there or what—”

“Step aside,” Blake interrupted her as he got into position to help Sarah. Though the threat had been handled for the moment, he couldn’t be sure that they wouldn’t be attacked again. It was imperative to get the women to safety as quickly as possible.

Sarah had removed her gloves to get a firm grip on his belt. As soon as she latched on, she climbed with sure steps. Her boots kicked through the crusty snow and found footholds. As soon as she was within his reach, he grasped her wrist to help her up the last few steps. Her arm slung around his neck. He felt her muscles tense. If they hadn’t been dangling off the edge of a cliff, this hold might have counted as an embrace.

When she stood beside him on the path, she avoided his gaze. “Thanks, Blake.”

“You could have made it on your own.”

“Climbing uphill is easier than coming down.” She straightened her shoulders. “We should get out of here.”

“Agreed. My rental is in the clearing.”

“Is it safe to go back there?” she asked. “How do we know they aren’t waiting to ambush us?”

“We don’t,” he said, “but I doubt they’ve had time to regroup. I got in a couple of good hits before they drove off in their van.”

“You shot them?” Emily squeaked.

Though he was certain that he’d wounded two of the men, he didn’t intend to give her a recap. Emily was so bighearted that she’d want to seek out their enemies and offer aid.

Sarah was different. Her voice was calm as she said, “A couple of good hits, huh? Thanks, again.”

“Let’s go.” He drew his Beretta and snapped a fresh clip into the magazine.

With the two women following, he moved quickly through the trees and back toward the clearing. Staying in the cover of the surrounding forest, they made their way toward the SUV he’d rented at the airport.

“Wait,” Emily said.

“Keep moving,” he said.

“We’re going to be okay,” she said. “Wait a minute.”

His buddy Jeremy truly loved this woman. Blake found her unrelenting perkiness to be somewhat annoying. “What?”

“I see my cell phone over there. Can I get it?”

The bubblegum-pink phone struck an oddly feminine note amid the heavy-duty equipment and pipes. Leaving it behind would provide information to their enemies. He needed to secure the phone but didn’t want to send Emily into an open area where she’d be an easy target if there was a sniper hiding in the trees. He handed his car keys to Sarah. “Get in the vehicle. I’ll grab the phone and join you.”

He watched as the two women climbed into the SUV. He hadn’t expected Sarah to take the driver’s seat, but that was what she did. Then she started the engine and drove toward him, providing additional cover. It was a smart move. He liked having her on his side.

In a few strides, he scooped up Emily’s cell phone and dove into the passenger seat. The road leading away from the drill site was single lane for about a mile before it intersected with a regular two-lane road. If the guys in ski masks were planning to stop them, this would be a good place for an ambush. “I’ll drive,” he said.

“I’ve got it,” Sarah said.

“There might be a need for evasive driving.”

“Then you’d better fasten your seat belt.”

She wheeled the SUV around and drove out of the clearing at top speed, which is exactly what he would have done. The headlights slashed through the dark as she expertly navigated the bends in the road. In seconds, they were approaching the intersection.

At the ninety-degree turn onto the more traveled road, the SUV fishtailed, but Sarah maintained control. On the two-lane road, her boot pressed down on the accelerator. With Sarah at the wheel, the boxy vehicle flew like a sports car, zooming through the trees.

Blake was impressed. “Where did you learn how to drive?”

“Mountains, high trails and frozen lakes,” she said. The lights from the dashboard illuminated her grin. This was a woman who enjoyed going fast—his kind of woman. “I know my way around a skid.”

“At the main road, go left.”

“But the B and B is to the right,” she said.

“I’m taking you ladies into town. We’ll get a hotel room for the night and come back in the morning.”

“I don’t think so.” Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. “I won’t leave my property unprotected.”

From the backseat, Emily piped up, “Is there anybody else staying at the B and B?”

“The last couple left this morning,” Sarah said. “The whole place is reserved all week for the wedding party.”

Belted into the passenger seat, there was nothing Blake could do when Sarah took a right turn and headed toward her bed-and-breakfast. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He was accustomed to giving orders and having those orders obeyed. Keeping his voice calm, he reminded Sarah of the danger. “They could already be there, waiting for us.”

“You’re right.” She eased off the gas and pulled into a wide space on the road where the snow had been cleared. “We need to call the sheriff.”

“I have it covered.”

“What does that mean?”

Their situation had complications that went beyond the level of the Pitkin County sheriff’s office. When he arrived in the area, he had contacted one of the local deputies, David Kovak, who was former military. “Drive into town. We’ll get settled. And I’ll take care of this.”

“Are you saying that I should leave everything to you?”

He had the feeling that he was walking through a minefield. “I’m saying that I can help.”

Keeping her hands possessively on the wheel, she turned toward him. Her dark eyes shone like obsidian. “I don’t know you well enough to trust you. Not when my property is involved. Bentley’s B and B has been in my family for over a hundred years, and I’m not going to be the Bentley who abandons it to vandals.”

“Your survival is more important than your house.”

“Why do you think this is so dangerous? How do you know?” Her voice was tinged with suspicion. “Come to think of it, how did you happen to turn up at the clearing in the nick of time?”

“I overheard Emily when she woke you.”

“Did not,” Emily said. “I listened outside your bedroom door, and it was totally quiet.”

“I wasn’t in the bedroom.” He hadn’t wanted to go into this explanation while they were parked at the edge of the road. Actually, he hadn’t wanted to explain at all. That should have been Jeremy’s job. But Jeremy wasn’t here.

“What were you doing?” Sarah demanded.

“Checking out the B and B.” He’d gone around the perimeter, tested windows and doors. Jeremy had told him that Bentley’s was a secure location for the wedding, and Blake concurred. “With the addition of a few surveillance cameras, your B and B is practically a fortress.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said. “Our guests have included international statesmen and presidents, starting with Teddy Roosevelt in 1907.”

“Give me my phone,” Emily said, leaning halfway into the front and holding out her hand. “I want to call Jeremy.”

“Not yet,” Sarah interrupted. “Not until we figure out what we’re doing. How about it, Blake?”

He glanced between the two women. It would have been easier to face a dozen Taliban soldiers than to try to talk sense into Sarah and Emily. “I’ll agree to go to the B and B. However, if there’s any sign of disturbance or occupation, we’ll get the hell out of there.”

“Agreed,” Sarah said as she slipped the SUV into gear.

In a few minutes, they were in sight of the heavy wooden stairs that led to the wide porch spanning the first floor. Two lantern-style lamps lit the porch, and another motion-sensitive light came on when they pulled into the parking area in front.

“Are these lights usually on?” he asked.

“Almost always,” she said. “I know they were on when we left.”

He didn’t see any sign of disturbance but intended to use extreme caution. “You and Emily stay in the car. I’ll need the key code for the front door.”

“It’s F-E-R-R-E-T.”

“Ferret?”

“The black-footed ferret is an endangered species.”

Beretta in hand, he left the car.

* * *

SARAH KEPT THE ENGINE running as she watched Blake approach her house. For such a big man, he was light on his feet, almost graceful as he went up the three stairs to the porch. With his cargo pants tucked into his black combat boots and the Beretta in his hand, he looked every inch a ranger, skilled in dealing with bad guys. She didn’t doubt for a moment that he’d faced down four masked men. His cool competence under pressure was a little bit unnerving.

Emily climbed into the passenger seat next to her. “What are we supposed to do if somebody attacks Blake?”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” She could barely imagine Blake needing their help. But if she was wrong, if anything terrible happened to him, it was her fault. Sarah had insisted on coming back to the B and B instead of going to a safe hotel. “Open the glove compartment. Maybe he’s got another weapon in here.”

“Why?” Emily asked. “You’re not thinking of going after him, are you?”

“I shouldn’t have let him go in there alone.” Her hand was on the door handle, ready to open it. “Did you find a gun?”

Emily pawed through the glove box. “There’s nothing in here but rental documents.”

Holding her breath, Sarah watched Blake punch the code into the pad by the front door. What if someone was waiting for him on the other side? What if he was met by a barrage of bullets? She couldn’t just sit here like a helpless lump. She cracked the door to the SUV open. “I have to help.”

“Sarah, stop. There’s nothing you can do.”

She glanced over at her lovely, delicate friend. Emily was a pale, blonde princess, the kind of woman who was destined to be rescued by a handsome prince on a white stallion. Not Sarah. She’d always taken care of herself and made her own way in the world. “Lock the doors and keep the engine running. If anybody comes after you, hit the car horn.”

Before she could change her mind, she jumped from the SUV and rushed toward the house. At the same time, Blake opened the front door and charged inside. He must have hit the switches at the entryway because light splashed through the windows on the first floor. There was no sound of gunfire. No shouts. Nothing but the sound of her own footsteps as Sarah ran up the stairs and dove into the house.

Blake stood in the center of the large living room. His face was a mask of chiseled determination. His blue eyes narrowed, and he did not look happy to see her. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought you might need backup.”

“Exactly how are you going to help?”

She went to the small supply closet behind the sign-in desk, opened the door and found a baseball bat—a security measure she kept in case of troublemakers and had never had occasion to use until now. “I’m armed.”

“Okay, slugger, follow me and stay close. Turn on lights as we go.”

Watching his back, she trailed him through the dining room into the kitchen and the adjoining mudroom, where the outer door was safely locked. She took it upon herself to peek into the large pantry and the walk-in refrigeration unit, even though she couldn’t imagine anyone hiding in there.

“Look for open or broken windows,” he said. “There are only two other doors down here, correct?”

“One at the end of each hallway.”

To the right, there were four bedroom suites, including her private area. Each had a king-size bed and private bathroom. Blake’s vigilance was unflagging as he entered each separate room and searched with his Berretta held at the ready. His single-minded focus reminded her that this was more than a tour of her B and B.

She and Emily had been fired upon. They’d gone over the edge of the cliff to escape. Clearly, the guys in ski masks weren’t with BOOM. Who were they? Why had they threatened her and Emily? They had to be after something. But what? She had the feeling that Blake knew more than he was saying, and she needed to get some answers from him.

When he bent down to examine the lock on a side door that opened onto a deck, she asked, “What are you looking for?”

“This door doesn’t work on the keypad system.”

“Only the front door,” she said. “I lock the others at night. There’s a set of keys in my room and another set in the front desk.”

“I’ll need copies of those keys,” he said.

Before she could ask why, he was striding down the hallway, and she had to run to catch up. At the other end of the B and B was a reading room with computer hookups that linked into a landline phone system. Wi-Fi was unreliable at the B and B, as were cell phones. Opposite the reading room was a game room. At the far end was the largest bedroom suite with an attached parlor.

After they’d checked the final door, she rested the baseball bat on her shoulder and asked, “Is it safe to bring Emily inside?”

He nodded. “It doesn’t look like there’s been a break-in. Just to be safe, I’ll go upstairs. How many bedrooms are up on the second floor?”

“Eight,” she said, “four single and four double. And the third floor is an open dormitory with twelve single beds. It’s mostly used by scout troops and nature groups.”

“What’s your total capacity?”

“I’ve handled forty, but that’s really too many.” She didn’t want to get sidetracked by a discussion of the B and B. “I have a couple of questions.”

“Go ahead.”

When he pulled off his cap, his dark brown hair fell over his forehead. Stubble outlined his chin, and she knew his look wasn’t meant as a fashion statement; he just hadn’t had time to shave. He was undeniably handsome but distant. His eyes were cool as glass.

As he gazed at her, Sarah realized she was still wearing her practical but unflattering wool knit cap with the earflaps. She must look like an idiot with her cap and her snow pants and her baseball bat. She yanked the cap off and made an attempt to fluff her hair. She unzipped her parka. Big mistake. Underneath, she was wearing flannel pajamas with puffy clouds and naked cherubs.

He raised an eyebrow. “Your questions.”

“Right,” she said. “Back at the clearing, how did you stop those guys?”

“They weren’t expecting resistance, and I got the drop on them. I wounded two of them, shot one in the arm and the other in the leg.” He shrugged as though that was nothing. “It’s unfortunate they got away.”

“Who were they? What did they want from us?”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

“If you had to take a guess, what would you—”

“Waste of time.”

She tried a different tactic. “When I wanted to call the sheriff, you said it was covered. Did you talk to him before?”

“Thanks for the reminder.” He took out his cell phone and punched in a number as he went down the hall toward the front door.

Sarah had no choice but to jog behind him. His big, tough ranger routine was wearing thin. She was tempted to tap him on the head with her Louisville Slugger. “Who are you calling?”

“I contacted Deputy David Kovak as soon as I arrived.”

“He’s a good man.”

“You know him?”

“A little.”

“Didn’t think I’d need his assistance tonight, but I guess I was wrong.”

While Blake had a terse conversation with the deputy and told him to come to the B and B, she planted herself on the staircase so he couldn’t dash upstairs without talking to her first. As soon as he ended the call, she demanded, “You need to be honest with me. What’s going on?”

“What time does Jeremy get in tomorrow?”

“Not until after noon. He’s coming from D.C. with his father.”

“And Emily’s father?”

“The senator doesn’t arrive until the day after tomorrow,” she said.

Blake smirked. “When the two of them meet, all hell is going to break loose.”

“Maybe it already has,” she said. “Is what happened tonight related to the general or the senator?”

“Both men have enemies.”

He came toward the staircase. Though she was standing on the second step, she was only a few inches taller than he was. His composure was truly disconcerting.

“What do you mean?” she asked. “What kind of enemies?”

His gaze met hers. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of concern in the depths of those very blue eyes. “The general has received death threats.”

Chapter Three

Blake looked beyond Sarah’s shoulder to the darkness at the top of the staircase. Since the doors to the outside remained locked and the windows intact, he doubted that he’d find any intruders hiding in the second-floor bedrooms. A greater potential for trouble came from the woman blocking his way. She didn’t appear to be scared, but the pink blush on her cheeks betrayed a high level of emotion. She was angry. And he didn’t blame her. Asking her to remain calm in the face of potential death threats was a lot. She loved this B and B and wouldn’t want to see it turned into a battlefield.

“You should have told me.” Her chin jutted out. “As soon as you arrived, you should have told me about the danger.”

“I didn’t know how serious it was.” Not a valid excuse. “But you’re right. You should have been informed.”

“Who’s making these threats?”

“We don’t know.” He glanced at his G-Shock wristwatch. Kovak had promised to be here in half an hour. Blake had given him the license plate number on the van, and there might still be a chance to catch the four men in ski masks. “I should make a sweep of the upstairs before—”

“Whoa.” She braced the baseball bat in front of her chest. “You’re not going anywhere until you explain. Why is the general being threatened? Are we talking about terrorists?”

As a ranger, Blake had been trained in how to do an interrogation and how to withstand questioning. He could stonewall with the best of them, but those tactics didn’t apply to a conversation with a pretty innkeeper. He and Sarah were on the same side.

“I’ll be as truthful as I can,” he said.

“That’d be a change of pace.”

“What? I haven’t lied.”

“But you haven’t told me everything.”

“There wasn’t much to tell. The threats haven’t gone beyond the level of harassment. The general had his home office ransacked and his computer hacked. There was a bullet hole in one of his vehicles. He’s been getting hate mail. It started when he was put in charge of a budget committee deciding which military bases and which hospitals will have their funding cut.”

“A budget committee?” She sounded shocked. “These threats are about funding?”

“Everything in D.C. eventually comes around to money.”

“It’s so petty.”

“But still dangerous. Homegrown assassins can be just as lethal as machete-wielding terrorists.”

“But not those guys in the clearing,” she said. “You didn’t have much of a problem dealing with them.”

Though he would have preferred coming off as a superhero who had handily defeated a team of highly trained hit men, her assessment was correct. “They weren’t pros.”

“Are you going after them?”

“When Kovak gets here, I’m going to try.”

Standing on the staircase, she frowned as she tapped the head of the baseball bat against her palm. With her honey-colored hair curling in disarray and her parka open to show pink cherubs with round bottoms flying across her flannel pajamas, she should have looked ridiculous. But her erect posture gave her a certain dignity, and her dark eyes were serious.

“Go ahead and do what you need to do,” she said.

“Are you giving the orders?”

“When it comes to my property, I am.” Again, her sharp, little chin lifted in challenge. “You take care of the bad guys. I’ll make sure that Emily and I are safe.”

“How are you planning to do that?”

“Reinforcements,” she said. “I’m going to call the Reuben twins to patrol the house and grounds. Both of these young men can shoot the fangs off a rattlesnake at a hundred yards.”

“Are they reliable?”

“They’ve worked for me since they were fifteen. In addition to chopping wood and handyman repairs, they know how to make a bed and prepare a proper table setting.”

He nodded his approval. “Make your call.”

“Actually, the twins will be happy to meet you. Their family’s hardware store hasn’t been doing well, and the boys have been talking about enlisting.”

Blake probably wasn’t the best person to act as an army recruiter. At age thirty-five, he was on the verge of retirement and had just one last tour of duty in about six months. Though he’d dedicated his life to the military, he’d had enough of war. “Do you mind stepping aside so I can search upstairs?”

She leaned her back against the wall beside the staircase. “Knock yourself out.”

As he climbed the stairs, he brushed past her and caught a whiff of a cinnamon scent, maybe her shampoo. A spicy fragrance suited her. In many ways, she reminded him of the strong, decisive women he served with.

The staircase bisected the upstairs hallway, and the carved wood bannister extended to his left in a balcony that looked down over a two-story view of the entryway. This open area was probably meant as a staging place for guests hauling their suitcases upstairs, but it made a perfect spot for a spy to quietly hide and observe the comings and goings at the B and B.

Earlier tonight, when he’d taken his secret tour of the house, Blake had gotten a sense of protectiveness and security. The eight bedrooms on the second floor could be easily defended. They were inaccessible except by the central staircase and a narrow stairway at the south end that communicated with the kitchen and went down into the basement. As far as he could tell, all the windows had been upgraded to triple pane, a thickness that not only kept in the warmth but made the glass almost bulletproof. The doors were heavy and well fitted. Jeremy had been accurate when he compared this place to a modern-day fortress.

Blake checked the bedrooms one by one, looking in the closets, poking in the corners and peeking under the beds. The furniture was sturdy pine, polished to a high gleam. And the rest of the decor was simple—as clean as the West Point cadet barracks but not as spartan. In addition to a breakfast menu and a map of the local trails, every room had a hint of nature—simple things, like a basket of pinecones or a Christmas cactus or a rock garden. He imagined Sarah planning these subtle touches that made her B and B feel welcoming and warm. He liked Bentley’s Bed-and-Breakfast and hoped the wedding could be held here in spite of the attack in the clearing. This location was preferable to a hotel, where he wouldn’t have as much control.

The third floor was a long, open room that extended all the way to the sloping eaves on one side. On the opposite side was a row of single beds against a pine wall that probably had storage behind it—a good hiding place with access through a padlocked door. Since the lock showed no sign of tampering, he felt satisfied that the area was secure.

Back on the second floor, he paused by the banister and looked down into the entryway where the two women were talking. Emily paced in an agitated dance. Her blond curls bounced in rhythm with her high-pitched voice as she waved her cell phone and ranted, “I can’t believe Jeremy suggested that we have the wedding somewhere else. Or that we postpone. Getting everybody’s schedule lined up was impossible.” Her tone shot up to a screech. “Impossible.”

Blake took a step back so he couldn’t be seen. Confronting that blonde maelstrom was akin to a suicide mission.

“Calm down,” Sarah said in her soothing alto. “Jeremy was just worried about you.”

“This was exactly the wedding I wanted. And so did Jeremy. We never planned on a three-hundred-person fancy ceremony where we didn’t know half the guests. Just family, just a nice cake and a few flowers on Valentine’s Day, that’s all I wanted.”

“And that’s what you’ll have,” Sarah promised. She’d changed out of her pajamas and parka to a pair of well-worn jeans and an oversize olive-green sweater with drooping sleeves that she’d pushed up on her slender wrists. She raked her fingers through her shining hair. Those vivid blond curls with the red highlights were the first thing Blake had noticed when they met. Then he’d been captivated by the intensity in her eyes with irises so dark that they were almost black.

“We should have eloped,” Emily wailed. “Run off to Vegas and gotten married.”

“You could still do that.”

“I’m not going to take my vows in front of a fake Elvis.” Emily stamped her little foot. “What does Blake say? It’d make a difference if he said we should do the ceremony here. Please talk to him, Sarah.”

“Why would that make a difference?”

“Please.”

Through the front windows, he saw the flashing lights of a police cruiser. Kovak had made good time in getting here. With any luck, he and the deputy could track down the men from the drilling site. Blake rushed down the staircase and opened the door. Two other officers accompanied Kovak. At a glance, Blake could tell that these were the kind of men he was accustomed to working with. They all wore Kevlar vests and police utility belts.

As soon as they entered, a truck pulled up and parked. Two husky young men bounded onto the porch—the Reuben twins. In their jeans, boots and parkas, they were a perfectly matched set with shaggy brown hair, stubble and toothy grins. Though the boys were doing their best to act cool, they quivered with excitement when they saw the bulletproof vests. Sarah pulled them aside to explain the situation.

Blake turned to Kovak. “Were you able to trace the license plate on the van?”

“The vehicle belongs to Tyler Farley.” He spoke with a slow Western drawl. “Farley and his pals are known hell-raisers but I wouldn’t have pegged them as assassins.”

“Why not?”

“Too many beers. Too few brains.”

As Blake had thought, Farley and his friends weren’t pros. They hadn’t even been clever enough to disguise their license plate. “Do they live nearby?”

“They’ve got a cabin about twenty minutes from here,” Kovak said. “I already sent one of my men to keep an eye on the place. And I’ve alerted the local hospitals and emergency clinics. They’ll call me if anybody shows up with a gunshot wound.”

“Contact your man. See if he’s close.”

While Kovak made his call, Blake considered the possibilities. Farley must have been hired to pull off that stunt at the drill site. If they arrested him and his pals, Blake was sure he could convince these backwoods bad guys to give up the name of the person they were working for. The dangerous complication came from their possession of a semiautomatic assault rifle that probably had an illegal magazine capacity under Colorado’s current gun laws.

Kovak held up his cell phone. “My man is there. The van is parked out front, and all the lights in the cabin are on.”

“Tell him not to engage until we get there,” Blake said. “If they leave, he should follow.”

“Yes, sir,” Kovak said. “I’m thinking we can bring these boys in without firing a single shot.”

Blake was glad to hear they were on the same page. As soon as Kovak finished his call, he said, “Let’s move. You take your car, and I’ll follow.”

A flash of strawberry-blond hair zoomed up beside him. “I’ll ride with you.”

Though she had a rifle in her hand, he wasn’t about to let Sarah ride shotgun. “We had an agreement,” he reminded her. “You stay safe, and I—”

“I promise not to get in the way.” She looked toward Kovak. “Do you care if I tag along?”

“Always glad to have your help, Sarah.”

Blake tried one more time to dissuade her. “You can’t leave Emily here alone.”

“I trust the twins to keep her safe. They’re spending the night.”

She dangled Blake’s car keys from her fingers. “Should I drive?”

Without a word, Blake took the keys and headed for the door. He could think of only one reason Sarah would leave her beloved B and B to go after the bad guys: she wanted to talk to him about the wedding. Cake orders and flower arrangements were the last thing on his mind.

When he pulled away from the house, she fastened her seat belt and asked, “Have you talked to Jeremy yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Good, because when you do I hope you’ll tell him that the wedding plans shouldn’t be changed. Emily has her heart set on this ceremony.”

“My decision about where the wedding should be held will be based on risk assessment,” he said coldly. “Protecting the general is my number one priority.”

“But you’re also the best man,” she said. “That means it’s your job to make sure the bride and groom are both happy.”

“Don’t tell me my job.”

“For the bachelor party, are you planning to have a stripper? There’s a tavern in Carbondale where they have a lot of stag parties, and you might want to check with them.”

This was one relentlessly bossy female. He muttered, “I can find my own stripper.”

“I bet you can. And I wonder what’s your favorite type, the French maid or the naughty schoolgirl? Wait, I know. You’re a dominatrix man.”

“Are you volunteering?”

“I have my very own riding crop.”

If she was trying to distract him, she’d succeeded. Though he kept his focus on Kovak’s taillights, Blake’s mind had wandered far away, visualizing long legs in fishnet stockings and a tight leather vest crisscrossing Sarah’s breasts. His vision was an act of pure imagination. He hadn’t seen enough of her body to know what she’d look like naked.

He yanked his thoughts back to the present situation. They were driving toward a potentially dangerous confrontation. He needed to have his wits about him. “Jumping in the car with me was a mistake, Sarah. A big mistake. I’d call it a third strike.”

“What do you mean?”

“You disobeyed my order to drive into town. That was strike one. You followed me into the B and B, that’s two. Then you sashayed out the door and into that passenger seat.”

“I never sashay,” she said.

According to his imagined version of her, the sashay was only one of her moves. He cleared his throat. “I need your cooperation. When we get to Farley’s cabin, you stay in the car. Got it?”

She nodded. “And when it’s time to talk to Jeremy, what are you going to tell him?”

“I like your B and B as a location for the wedding. The house is secure and easily defensible. The location makes it difficult for anybody to sneak up on us. However, if there’s a clear danger, we’ll have to change plans.”

“I really hope that doesn’t happen.”

On the road ahead of him, Kovak cut his lights and parked. Blake did the same. Before he left the car, he said, “Stay here, Sarah.”

As she leaned across the seat and touched his arm, a glimmer of starlight touched her face. Her lips parted as though blowing a kiss. “Be careful.”

She could look real sweet when she wanted to, but he wasn’t fooled by her petal-soft lips and her long eyelashes. She was tough, determined and—like him—usually got her way.

He joined Kovak and his men. With a minimum of discussion, they had a plan. The officers would deploy around the front and rear of the one-story cabin while Blake went onto the porch beside the front door. Kovak would negotiate. Hopefully, Farley and his men would surrender without a fight.

Moving quickly, they got into position. Blake flattened his back against the wall between the front door and a window. He wanted to be close in case the guy with the assault rifle took it into his head to come out firing.

Kovak yelled, “Tyler Farley, this is Deputy David Kovak. We have your cabin surrounded. Farley, we know you’re in there.”

From the window to Blake’s right, he heard a shout. “What do you want, Deputy?”

“Throw out your weapons. Raise your arms and come out one by one.”

“Can’t do that. One of my men can’t walk.”

“Drag him out,” Kovak yelled.

Inside the cabin, they were arguing. Blake couldn’t make out the words but knew from the tone that they disagreed. He suspected that the wounded men were ready to give up. The others might want to make a stand.

“Let’s go,” Kovak yelled. “You’ve got five seconds.”

Blake silently cringed. If he’d been negotiating the surrender, he wouldn’t have issued that ultimatum so quickly. Farley needed a minute to understand that it was to his benefit to cooperate.

“Hands up. Weapons down.” Kovak started his countdown. “One...two...”

Beside Blake, the door swung inward. The guy who charged through and stood on the porch was still wearing his ski mask and held his assault rifle in one hand. He didn’t notice Blake standing just behind him. Though the weapon was pointed down, his finger was on the trigger.

“Drop the weapon,” Kovak yelled.

Red dots of light from the rifle sights of Kovak and another officer danced on the chest of the masked man. He didn’t have a chance. Before he could lift his rifle, he’d be shot. The smart decision would be for him to surrender, but Blake guessed that this guy was operating more on impulse than intelligence.

In a well-practiced move, he knocked the masked man off his feet and onto his belly, facedown in the crusted snow. Blake took the rifle away from him and threw it aside. Straddling the other man’s back, he aimed his handgun toward the house. “The rest of you, get out here.”

Two others, unmasked, came onto the porch. One of them had a clumsy dressing on his upper arm. His face contorted in pain. “I need a doctor.”

“Where’s the fourth guy?”

“He can’t walk.”

Kovak and the other officers rushed forward. In seconds, they had taken Farley’s ragtag crew into custody. While one of the sheriff’s department’s SUVs drove the wounded men to receive treatment, Kovak and Blake questioned Farley.

Blake sat beside the handcuffed man in the back of Kovak’s police cruiser. “Who hired you?”

“I don’t know his name.” Tyler Farley was a skinny guy with bad teeth. The permanent scowl etched into the lines of his thin face made it difficult to guess his age. “He told us it was a joke.”

“How did he contact you?”

“On my cell phone.” Spittle appeared in the corners of his downturned mouth. “He paid me three thousand bucks up front. Nobody was supposed to get hurt.”

Blake didn’t believe Farley was foolish enough to think their stunt at the drilling site was innocent. “What were you supposed to do?”

“Grab the girl. Emily Layton.”

Kidnapping Emily could be leveraged into a threat against the general. “Then what?”

“When we had her, we’d make a call. The guy would tell us where to bring her, and he’d give us the rest of our money.”

“Have you made that call?”

“Not yet.”

Blake checked his wristwatch. Though a lot had happened, it had been less than two hours since he surprised Farley and his boys in the clearing. If he was going to get his hands on the person who hired Farley, he had to move fast.

Chapter Four

Sarah blamed her impulsive leap into Blake’s SUV on an overdose of adrenaline racing through her veins. Her usual behavior was practical, and she didn’t take unwarranted risks. But the successful escape from the clearing and the equally successful search of the B and B had blinded her to how violent the situation could become.

Sitting quietly in the passenger seat, she’d had a chance to calm down and regroup. While she’d watched Blake and the other men approach the cabin with military precision, she’d been tense. The yelling, the guns and the terrifying moment before Blake tackled that armed thug in the ski mask had turned her blood ice-cold. Even though the bad guys had been apprehended without a single shot being fired, the potential for danger was as obvious as a lit fuse that hadn’t yet ignited the powder keg.

She owed Blake an apology. After seeing him in action, she understood why he didn’t want her to interfere. He had a lot more to worry about than hiring a stripper for the bachelor party.

He yanked open the driver’s-side door to his SUV and slid behind the steering wheel. Before she could apologize, he said, “I need your help.”

“Me?” After the scene she’d just witnessed, she figured he could handle anything.

“Farley was hired by an unknown person to kidnap Emily. He’s supposed to call his employer and arrange a meet. I’m going to make that call. If this guy wants to talk to Emily, can you play her part?”

“But I don’t sound like her.”

“I don’t think he actually knows Emily. You can disguise your voice.”

“Like this?” She changed her alto to a soprano and said, “Hi, I’m Emily and I’m getting married.”

“Nice Minnie Mouse impression.”

She tried again. “Hi, I’m Emily.”

“Close enough.” He started the engine for his rental vehicle and turned up the blower for the heater. “This background noise should disguise our voices.”

“Why are you pretending to be Farley? He’s sitting right over there in Kovak’s car.”

“I don’t trust him to say the right thing. Are you ready to do this?”

Impersonating someone else was out of her comfort zone, but she wanted to help. “Okay.”

As he punched in a phone number, he explained, “This is Farley’s cell phone. I’m putting it on speaker.”

A male voice answered on the fourth ring. “Do you have the package?”

“Hey, there,” Blake said. “How’d you know it was me?”

“The caller ID, you idiot.”

“I got the girl right here.” Blake’s smooth, deep voice had transformed into a thin drawl. “Where’s my money?”

“You don’t get paid until she’s with me. You didn’t hurt her, did you?”

“She don’t like the handcuffs, but she’s fine. Real fine and real pretty.”

“Is she blindfolded? I told you to blindfold her.”

“You bet she is,” Blake said. “You want to talk to her?”

“Yes.” The response was terse, almost a reprimand.

Blake held the phone toward her and said, “Go ahead, Emily.”

Sarah tried to imagine how her friend would feel if she’d been captured. Emily wouldn’t be crying; she was tougher than that. But she would be frightened. Putting a quiver in her throat, Sarah said, “Please, please, help me. If it’s a ransom you want, my father will pay. He’ll pay anything.”

“Are you injured?”

“I’m scared,” Sarah said. That wasn’t a total lie. “You’ve got to help me.”

Blake gave her a thumbs-up sign as he pulled the phone back. “Now you’ve heard her. Where do I bring her to get my payoff?”

“Come to the parking lot behind the Laughing Dog Saloon on the Bridge Road outside Carbondale. And make it quick. I expected to hear from you an hour ago.”

“Well, ain’t that too bad. Me and the guys had a little drink to celebrate.”

“Don’t bring your crew. Just you and the girl. Keep her blindfolded.”

Blake disconnected the call, opened his car door and signaled to Kovak, who came toward them. Then he turned back toward Sarah. “Come with me.”

“There’s something I need to tell you first.”

“What’s that?”

In the overhead light from the car, she noticed his dark stubble, a smear of dirt across his forehead and the glittering intensity in his blue eyes. The sleeve of his parka was wet from his struggle with the armed man. “I’m sorry for getting in the way,” she said. “I didn’t take the threat seriously enough.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a half grin. “I appreciate that. You did a good job talking to that guy.”

His compliment warmed her, and she had the irrational notion of doing whatever it took to please him. “I won’t cause any more trouble.”

Blake left the SUV to join Kovak, and Sarah followed. Standing in the forest between these two tall men, she felt as small as a mouse.

Blake filled Kovak in on the phone call and continued, “I was hoping Farley’s employer would give us a specific place, like a hotel room, where we could walk up to the door and arrest him. Instead, he’s treating this situation like a hostage exchange, probably because he doesn’t want to take a chance on Farley getting close enough to get a good look at him.”

“What about Emily?” Sarah said. “If he took her hostage, she’d be able to identify him.”

“Bad luck for her,” Kovak said.

“Maybe not,” Blake said. “He seemed concerned about her well-being and wanted her blindfolded. It’s hard to believe he intends to hurt her.”

“Kidnapping is a serious crime,” Kovak said. “Even if the kidnapper isn’t a pro, he won’t want to leave a witness.”

Sarah shuddered to think what might have happened if she and Emily hadn’t gotten away at the clearing. They hadn’t been prepared for danger. As trusting as Hansel and Gretel—or Gretel and Gretel—they’d followed a text message into the forest. Though she’d told Blake she was sorry, she couldn’t help blaming him for not warning them.

“We need a plan,” he said. “This might be our only chance to catch this guy.”

“I can call for more backup,” Kovak said.

“Not enough time. He expects Farley to show up soon.” Blake gave a decisive nod. “And that’s what we’ll do. I’ll take Farley’s van and wear a ski mask. Kovak, you follow at a distance in my SUV. We’ll keep in touch by phone. When I get close to the Laughing Dog, I’ll put in another call to this guy. I’ll distract him. You approach from behind. And we’ll take him into custody.”

“What about me?” Sarah asked.

“You’ve done enough,” Blake said. “The other deputy is taking Farley to jail to book him. You can ride with him.”

“Hold on,” Kovak said. “What if our kidnapper wants to see Emily? Sarah could impersonate her.”

“No way,” Sarah said. “We don’t look anything alike.”

“She’s right,” Blake said. “They both have light-colored hair and are close to the same height, but that’s where the resemblance ends. Emily is pale and dainty. Jeremy says she’s like a perfect white rose.”

And what did that make her? A big, old, prickly cactus?

Kovak squinted at her. “From a distance, Sarah looks kind of like Emily, especially if she’s got a blindfold covering half her face.”

She muttered, “Or I could just put a bag over my head.”

Blake ignored her and spoke directly to Kovak. “How well do you know Sarah?”

“Pretty well.” He shrugged. “Why do you ask?”

“Most cops hate to have civilians involved, but you don’t seem to have a problem with pulling Sarah along.”

“We’ve worked together before.” Kovak clapped her on the back. “Sarah regularly volunteers for mountain rescues. I’ve seen her in action, and she knows how to handle pressure.”

“Thanks.” She gave him a grin.

“To tell the truth, I’d rather have you setting the belaying lines for a descent than most of the guys in the sheriff’s department.”

“Good to know,” Blake said as he headed toward Farley’s van. “Sarah rides with me.”

With Kovak’s praise ringing in her ears, she strode along beside Blake. Maybe she wasn’t a delicate flower like Emily, but she was the first woman the deputy would pick to play on his team. She’d always been “one of the guys.” Not homecoming queen. Not the girl with tons of dates on Saturday nights. But men were comfortable around her and trusted her.

The interior of Farley’s van was, predictably, cluttered and grungy with a gross smell of stale bread, gunpowder and sweat. In addition to the litter—crumpled wrappers from fast-food places, empty ammo boxes and discarded clothes—there were filthy, blood-soaked rags, reminding her of the wounded men who had been arrested. She remembered her jolt of fear while watching the armed men and Blake circling the cabin.

She glanced over at him as he got behind the steering wheel. If she mentioned that she’d been scared, she knew he wouldn’t want her to come along on this ride. With a shake of her head, she dismissed her nerves and concentrated on what needed to be done. “What should I use as a blindfold?”

“There must be something in here.”

“Excuse me?” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not touching anything in this van, much less putting it against my skin.”

“See what you can figure using your clothes.” He started the engine and pulled away from the cabin. “Do you know where the Laughing Dog is located?”

“Go left, then take a right at the main road.” She unzipped her parka and looked down at what she was wearing. Her baggy sweater, jeans and underwear didn’t provide much of a selection. “Instead of a blindfold, I could pull my cap down over my eyes.”

“I don’t expect to get close enough for this guy to make out details, but you heard him on the phone. He wants Emily blindfolded.”

“Don’t you have a scarf?”

“Don’t you?”

There was an item of her clothing that might work. “I suppose I could use my bra. It’s black.”

“Is it lacy? Does it have those cups that poke out?”

“It’s a sports bra.” She couldn’t believe she was discussing her underwear with him. “A cotton and spandex blend.”

“Let me take a look at it.”

Glaring at him, she took off her parka and pulled both arms inside her sweater. She wriggled the strap off one arm, pulled the bra over her head and took off the other strap. Though she hadn’t exposed an inch of flesh, she felt exposed, and she was glad the lights from the dashboard weren’t bright enough to reveal the heat she felt rising in her cheeks. At least she wasn’t scared anymore.

Plunging her arms back into the sweater sleeves, she dangled the bra in front of him. “Ta-da.”

“The perfect blindfold.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not going to have a bra wrapped around your face.”

“It won’t be for long,” he promised. “This maneuver needs to happen fast before the guy figures out what we’re doing. It goes without saying that you’ll stay in the van.”

“I understand.” She slipped back into her parka. “I have a question for you. If this person is trying to threaten the general, why kidnap Emily?”

“The general himself isn’t a realistic target. He’s a tough old bird, and he’s usually protected by his aides. If the kidnapper had Emily, he could use her as leverage.”

“To do what?”

“Could be something as simple as ransom,” he said. “Or it could involve having the general change his position on some kind of finance bill. Attacking the family makes for an effective scare tactic. When it comes to his own personal safety, the general is fearless. But his family? He’d do anything—including going against his core principles—to protect them.”

It sounded to her like he’d had some experience with this sort of operation. “Have you done things like this before?”

“I did some counterintelligence work in the Middle East, enough to know that terrorists don’t always use explosives to get what they want. Fear is a powerful motivator.”

Though she’d never been to war, she had an idea of what he meant. “You can’t give in to fear.”

“Can’t ignore it, either,” he said as he clipped a hands-free phone into his ear. “I’m going to check in with Kovak.”

Leaning back in the seat, she stared through the windshield at the cold, snow-encrusted forest on either side of the road. The mountains were a wonderful place to live. Nowhere else would ever feel like home to her. But she was well aware of the dangers hidden in these rocky slopes. Every winter, there were deaths due to natural causes.

Living here, you learned to be careful. But you couldn’t let fear keep you locked inside in front of the fireplace. Without risk, life was too dull.

He ended his call. “The cell phone reception is better here than at your B and B. Earlier tonight, I tried to call Jeremy and the call got dropped twice.”

“Is Jeremy with his father?” she asked.

“They’re together, driving each other crazy.”

“The general can’t be happy about having his son marry into Emily’s family. Her dad is super-liberal.”

The corner of Blake’s mouth twitched into a grin. “When those two shake hands for the first time, it’s going to turn into an arm wrestling match.”

“You think that’s funny?”

“Hell, yes,” he said. “Don’t you?”

Because Emily was a good friend, Sarah had been sympathetic about her family problem. But she had to admit that she’d been looking forward to the confrontation. “I’ve been trying to think of conversation topics they might be able to talk about without arguing, like the weather or sports.”

“Sports are out. The senator supports West Coast teams and the general likes the Yankees and Patriots.”

She envisioned many long, uncomfortable silences with the two men snarling at each other. “Do you have any ideas? I’d guess that you and I don’t have much in common. What would we talk about?”

“Mountain rescue,” he said. “How did you get started with that?”

“I took a search and rescue course a long time ago. And I was already into rock climbing.”

“Me, too.”

It seemed that they actually did share some interests. “Do you ski?”

“Skiing and snowboarding, but I like cross-country best.”

As did she. She’d learned cross-country skiing as soon as she could walk. “What about rodeo?”

“Not a big fan,” he said. “My family used to have a farm in Wisconsin, so I got enough of horses and cows when I was growing up.”

With that kind of background, she knew that he was familiar with livestock. “I’ve always been concerned about animal cruelty at rodeos,” she said. “I cheer for the bucking bronco instead of the cowboy.”

“Cowboys aren’t your thing?”

“Not really.”

The light from the dashboard outlined his high cheekbones and sharp jawline. When he grinned again, she noticed that his lower lip was fuller than the upper. “You know, Sarah, I don’t think we’d have a problem finding things to talk about.”

When she first started talking, she hadn’t been on a fishing trip, trying to find out more about him. But that was what had happened. She’d learned that they had similar interests and small-town backgrounds. In that way, they were compatible.

And in other ways, too. Emily noticed Sarah’s first reaction when she met Blake. A glowing blush that spread from her neck to her hairline. Sarah had always preferred big men with broad chests and long legs. Seeing Blake in action was, well, it was kind of thrilling.

She ripped her gaze away from his profile and squinted down at her lap, pretending interest in the bra she held in her hands. She didn’t want to be attracted to him. This weekend was going to be difficult enough.

“Take a left up here.” They were making good time. No other vehicles on the road. And the pavement was dry. “We’re about ten minutes away.”

“Put on your blindfold.”

Grumbling, she took off her cap and tied her bra around her forehead. When she flipped the front down, the black fabric covered her eyes, but she could still see through. She eased it up on her forehead. “This had better be worth it.”

“If we catch this guy, we’ll be on our way to ending the threat, and the wedding can go forward.” He took Farley’s cell phone from his pocket and held it toward her. “I should make contact with our mystery man. Press the redial button and hold the phone while I talk?”

She did as he asked and listened as the kidnapper answered on the first ring.

Using his fake drawl, Blake said, “I’m getting close. Where should we meet?”

“Changed my mind,” the kidnapper said. “This project is over.”

“What’s your problem?” Blake shot her a worried glance. “I did what you wanted.”

“Changed my mind,” he repeated, angrily. “Never contact me again.”

“You can’t just cut me off like that. You owe me.” Blake put a convincing whine into his voice. “What am I supposed to do with the girl?”

“Get rid of her.”

A shudder ran through her. This man had called for Emily’s death as casually as he’d order a pizza.

Playing along, Blake drawled, “Are you telling me to kill her? ’Cause that’s going to cost you extra.”

“Do whatever you want with her. Do it slowly, painfully. You boys can have yourselves some fun making her squeal. That will be payment enough for your services.”

A muscle in Blake’s jaw twitched but he kept his voice flat and emotionless. “You promised cash. Half up front and half now.”

“Let’s cut the crap. I know who you are.”

“Is that so?”

The kidnapper’s voice turned cold. “Don’t play games with me. You’re out of your league.”

Abandoning his fake voice, Blake said, “We should talk.”

“Oh, we will. Not today but soon. Good night, Major Randall.”

The phone went dead.

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