Unraveling secrets is their mission...

But the truth can be fatal.

After his last CIA assignment ended in betrayal, the covert operative known only as Ned holes up for Christmas in his remote mountain cabin, preparing to trap the men hunting him. But journalist Mary Grace Ramsey reaches Ned first, injured and determined to uncover why someone is after her and her CIA agent brother. Together, can they unravel a conspiracy that goes higher than they ever imagined?

LIZ SHOAF resides in North Carolina on a beautiful fifty-acre farm. She loves writing and adores dog training, and her husband is very tolerant about the amount of time she invests in both her avid interests. Liz also enjoys spending time with family, jogging and singing in the choir at church whenever possible. To find out more about Liz, you can visit and contact her through her website, www.lizshoaf.com, or email her at phelpsliz1@gmail.com.

Also By Liz Shoaf

Betrayed Birthright

Identity: Classified

Holiday Mountain Conspiracy

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Holiday Mountain Conspiracy

Liz Shoaf

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09894-6

HOLIDAY MOUNTAIN CONSPIRACY

© 2019 Liz Phelps

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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“Give me a gun.” Mary Grace held out a hand.

At Ned’s lifted brow, she added, “I know how to shoot.”

“I just bet you do, Miss Mary Grace Ramsey. Do you plan to shoot me the first chance you get?” He didn’t really think she was there to kill him, but he threw out the question to gauge her reaction.

Her mouth dropped open and Ned wanted to believe she was innocent in all of this, but he’d learned a long time ago that an innocent face could hide a host of danger.

“You’re a very rude man, Ned.”

His lips curled upward at the corners. It was an odd sensation. One he hadn’t felt in a long time. But he stilled when Krieger released a low, dark growl.

Ned sprang into action. He scooped Mary Grace into his arms as a bright orange detonation took place at the front of the structure and his cabin shook under the force.

He had a sinking feeling in his gut that this whole mess wasn’t going to end well.

Dear Reader,

Ned, my mountain man, appeared in my first two Harlequin books and I received quite a few requests for his story, so here it is. He has an abundance of secrets and journalist Mary Grace Ramsey is the perfect woman to uncover them all. As in most of my books, this one has a Southern flavor and both characters have faithful furry companions with their own canine romance blossoming. I took extra time and care developing both these characters, so please let me know what you think of them.

You can reach me through my website: www.lizshoaf.com.

Happy reading!

Liz Shoaf

For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.

—1 Timothy 6:10

This one is dedicated to both of my wonderful sisters, Donna Wright and Sherri Stout. You’re beautiful, inside and out, and I’m so blessed God chose you to be my sisters here on earth. Growing up was such fun with the two of you. You bossed me around, but you also protected and loved me like no one else ever could. That still holds true today. I love you with all my heart.

And a BIG thank-you to my editor, Dina Davis, who always catches my mistakes. What would I do without you? I don’t want to find out. :) And to her boss, Tina, who has final approval of all books. There’s a host of people at Harlequin who work on a book from beginning to end. I don’t know all your names, but I want to thank you for the hard work you do to make the finished book possible.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

Mary Grace Ramsey breathed out a puff of frigid air as she slogged through the deep, freezing snow. Treacherous didn’t even begin to describe this mountain located in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. She prayed she’d be able to find the person she was searching for—a mysterious and elusive man known as Mountain Man. Her thoughts came to a screeching halt when a loud muffled sound resonated from down the mountain behind her. Snow flurries swirled in the air as she slowly turned around, trying to make as little noise as possible. She winced when the snow crunched beneath her hiking boots. In the hushed quiet of the forest, the breaking ice under her feet sounded like a cannon shot.

“Tink, did you hear that?” she whispered.

A tuft of white fur, followed by a pink nose, popped out of the nylon dog carrier she had strapped to her chest. Tinker Bell sniffed the air before ducking back inside her cozy quarters.

“Some help you are,” Mary Grace grumbled affectionately, but she didn’t blame her dog. Mary Grace’s own nose felt like an icicle and her toes were freezing to the point of pain. She owned decent outerwear, but nothing in her closet would have kept her warm in this brutal weather.

She strained to hear something, anything, but the vast forest remained quiet. She turned and slowly moved upward, praying earnestly that she was headed in the right direction. Huge pine trees heavy-laden with snow-covered limbs towered above her like skeletons in the waning daylight. Shivering inside her ski jacket, she prayed she’d find Mountain Man soon—and what kind of a name was that?—because there was a real possibility of her and Tink freezing to death if she didn’t locate the cabin Sheriff Hoyt had described.

It was her stepbrother’s fault that she was in this untenable situation, hiking into the wilderness in the dead of winter. The day after she found the note Bobby had left her, telling her she was in danger and needed to find the Jackson Hole Mountain Man, she’d sensed someone following her. On the way home from a press briefing at the White House that evening, a car tried to run her off the road. It was no accident. She was afraid to contact the police because of the warning in Bobby’s note, advising her not to trust anyone inside the Beltway.

She’d tried repeatedly to get in touch with her brother, to no avail. It was as if he’d fallen off the face of the earth. His boss at Langley would only say that Bobby had requested a leave of absence, but as she well knew, the CIA was in the business of keeping secrets. And as a White House press correspondent for FBC, Future Broadcasting Company, it was her job to uncover them.

Mary Grace stopped, took a deep breath and scanned the area. Visibility had dwindled even more. Nothing but snow, ice and trees surrounded her. A deep, scary-looking ravine dropped off to her left. There was no cabin in sight and she was chilled to the bone. What if once she found the cabin, Mountain Man wasn’t even there?

With no signal for GPS, she pulled her compass out of her pocket and checked it once again. According to what the sheriff had said, she should be close to her destination.

Tinker Bell popped her head out of her carrier and barked, and a split second later, Mary Grace heard the loud report of a rifle shot echo on the mountain. Before she even had a chance to run, fire ripped through her right side and she was thrown toward the deep ravine.

Her eyes closed as she floated soundlessly through the air. It was an ethereal experience. She wondered if this was what heaven would feel like, all light and buoyant. Pain ricocheted through her body when she forcefully hit the side of the mountain and was once again thrown into the air. Time seemed to slow before she finally landed on her back in a deep snowbank. After she caught her breath, her dire situation came flooding back. She was alive, but the killer was still out there. Slowly, she wiggled her arms and legs to see if anything was broken. Everything was stiff, but no bones screamed in pain. Her dog! She’d only bounced off the mountain once and she prayed her precious baby was okay.

“Tink! Tink? Answer me. Are you okay?”

When she tried to push herself up, pain seared her side. She gently dropped back down and ran her hands across her chest. She breathed a sigh of relief when she identified the dog carrier still attached to her body. She dug inside the nylon bag and grabbed Tinker Bell. Her side burned like fire when she lifted the Chihuahua toward her face, but relief overwhelmed her when Tink snorted and growled.

“You’re okay,” she breathed and hugged the dog close to her chest. But for how long, was the question. She touched the clothes covering her right side and groaned when her hand came back covered in blood. The reality of their situation was grim.

She and Tink were stranded on a freezing mountain in the middle of winter. She had been shot. No one knew where they were besides the sheriff. She had no way to call him, and there was a killer out there who wanted her dead. The worst thing was that she didn’t even know why. What has my brother gotten me into?

She tried to push herself up again, but almost passed out from the pain. She fell back into the snow as darkness blanketed the area. At least she and Tink were no longer easy targets with the night shadows and the huge snowbank somewhat hiding them. Maybe the shooter would leave, thinking she was dead.

Time passed, but instead of feeling cold, a circulating warmth enveloped her body. In the recess of her mind, she knew this wasn’t a good sign, but her eyelids grew heavy and she didn’t seem to care. She wondered if she would soon meet her Maker. Her grandmother’s face swam across her mind. Who would take care of the proud, independent older woman if Mary Grace died? Certainly not her own mother and stepfather with their gambling addiction. She didn’t even know where they were most of the time.

As she lay there, halfway between sleep and wakefulness, she thought of her latest romantic fiasco. She’d dumped John Stiles after three months of dating. She couldn’t seem to make a relationship work, or rather she didn’t have a desire to after growing up in the dysfunctional household of her youth.

Now she’d never get married and have a family of her own. She and Tink would die on this beast of a mountain in the middle of nowhere.

A noise pierced the deep slumber she was descending into. It sounded like Tink barking. But maybe it was a dream. Or maybe the killer had found them, after all.

Nolan Eli Duncan, known to the world only as Ned, woke abruptly from a short nap in a cold sweat, fragments of the familiar, recurring nightmare lingering in his mind. The stench of blood and betrayal filled his senses. A soft bleep, bleep sound in the small cabin swept away the remaining splinters of his past, and with minimal movement and sound, he slipped out of bed and pulled on his holey faded jeans. He ignored the sting of the cold wooden floor against his bare feet.

Opening a drawer in the kitchen, he pressed a hidden button. A well-oiled portion of the counter automatically lifted and his laptop and security cameras rose to counter height.

Krieger, his long-coated, old-fashioned giant of a German shepherd, padded softly to his side.

“Security breach. Probably a bear,” he grumbled, but his eyes narrowed when he brought up one of several security cameras and went to live feed. A large person dressed in winter fatigues wearing a ski mask came into view. “Or maybe,” he whispered, satisfaction flowing through him, “the person who betrayed me and Finn has finally come calling.”

He tensed when the guy wearing the fatigues lifted a high-powered rifle to his shoulder and scanned the woods through the scope. “He’s tracking something...or someone, on my mountain.”

Krieger went on full alert, ears pricked, ready to move on command. Ned’s breath caught when one of the roving security cameras slowly swept past a huge snowbank. Was that blood on the snow? It was getting dark so he switched to night vision. He typed a command on his computer and operated the camera manually. There! He stopped the motion and zoomed in. There were large splatters of blood on the snow. He followed the trail, but the snowbank blocked his view.

Motionless, he stared at the blood, then glanced at the other camera, showing the guy in fatigues creeping closer to the ravine. He turned on the camera’s sound.

When a sharp bark pierced his ears, he glanced back at the monitor showing the snowbank. His brows lifted when the smallest rat of a dog he’d ever seen popped onto the top of the snowbank. At least he thought it was a dog. It was solid white and had tattered limp Christmas bows attached to its ears. And if he wasn’t mistaken, the dog was also wearing a Christmas sweater. He shook his head at that bit of nonsense and focused on the matter at hand. That meant a person was stranded in the snowbank and his assumption was that the guy in fatigues was an unfriendly.

“Krieger, protect the civilian and dog. I’m right behind you.”

With barely a whisper, his dog flew out of the hidden dog door and took off down the mountain. Ned donned his inner and outerwear quickly and opened a concealed panel on the cabin wall. It was all legal, but he’d compiled a small arsenal, waiting for his enemies to come after him.

He slung a long-range rifle across his chest, stuffed a handgun into his pocket and shoved a large knife inside the holster strapped to his calf. He grabbed a first-aid kit and was out the door.

The action wasn’t far from his cabin. He didn’t know if that was accidental, or if someone was searching for him, but he’d find out soon enough. His long legs and steady tread covered the quarter-mile distance with ease. He’d been living on this mountain off and on for several years and knew every nook and cranny. He’d spent a fortune on security. He had enemies, dangerous enemies.

But that wasn’t the only reason he’d holed up on his mountain for months. He had somewhat become a recluse after the betrayal, much to his family’s dismay, and he no longer liked, or trusted, most people after everything he’d been exposed to during his clandestine missions. Everyone had an agenda and many would do anything to get what they wanted. He’d be content living by himself on his mountain after he rooted out the worm who had betrayed him and Finn.

He picked up his pace as the thrill of the hunt coursed through him. After all this time, he hoped the carefully laid bread crumbs he’d left several months ago for the betrayer to follow had finally led the person to his mountain for a showdown. Although in reality, he knew the odds were low that the person who originally set the trap would do his, or her, own dirty work.

When he closed in on the coordinates, he slipped his fingers under the cross-body strap and lifted his rifle into his hands. It was second nature and the weapon felt like an extension of his arms. He hid behind a large tree and listened. The soft crunch of boots came from a one o’clock position. He moved, following the sound. Experience had taught him how to walk in the snow without making any noise.

Ned caught sight of the person several hundred yards ahead. He speculated, based on size, that it was a man, but in his line of work, it paid not to make assumptions. He wanted to subdue the person so he could question them, but someone was injured—maybe dying—in that snowbank, and he couldn’t take any chances.

At least he had that much humanity left in him. Lifting his rifle—armed with a silencer, he scoped the guy. Even though Finn had lived through their nightmare, a gory vision of Ned’s best friend and comrade going down from a gunshot wound flooded his mind. For a split second, he aimed the gun at the man’s head, then lowered the barrel and pulled the trigger.

The bullet soundlessly puffed the snow up at the man’s feet. The guy’s head snapped around and Ned moved from his cover into an open position, his rifle pointed straight ahead. The man’s eyes narrowed from behind the slits in the ski mask. Through the scope of the rifle, Ned snapped a mental picture of those blazing violet-colored eyes. He’d recognize them if they met again unless the man was wearing contacts. The guy lifted his own weapon and moved backward, keeping his gun trained on Ned. No question, the guy was a professional. Was he after Ned, or the person lying in the snowbank?

Krieger popped his head over the top of the ravine. Ned gritted his teeth as he allowed the man to get away and followed his dog. He’d probably just blown two months of a carefully planned trap because of the person who had fallen into the ravine.

He scooted down the steep hill and approached slowly. Krieger stood on alert at a caved-in portion of snow, but gave no indication of danger. As Ned stepped closer, the tiny rat dog he’d seen on the security camera at the cabin popped out from behind the freshly disturbed snow. The small dog barked ferociously at Krieger and Ned’s fierce, highly trained giant of a German shepherd went into a down position and whined. Ned did a double take. His dog never whined. The little mutt growled when Ned brushed away a mound of snow and discovered what had caused him to miss a possible golden opportunity to get a lead on his betrayer.

He huffed out a frustrated breath. It figured it was a woman. A beautiful woman whose eyelids fluttered open after he jerked off a glove and touched her neck with his cold fingers to see if she had a pulse. In past missions, he’d met women who looked soft and vulnerable, but turned out to be killers in disguise.

Her golden eyes widened in fear seconds before they flooded with determination and fury. “Go ahead and kill me if that’s your plan, but you better not lay a hand on my dog.”

The woman passed out using the last reserve of her strength to protect the rat. An unexpected ping resonated near the region of Ned’s heart, but he ignored it. He pulled his glove back on and started gathering the woman in his arms, but the tiny dog ran toward its owner and buried itself inside the pouch of some kind of dog carrier, similar to a backpack, strapped to her front.

Ned picked her up as if she weighed nothing and started climbing the steep hill. He didn’t know how long she’d lain in the snow, but he hoped she wouldn’t die. That could complicate matters. He ignored the small flame of hope that had sprung inside his heart when she’d opened her eyes and fiercely tried to protect the dog. Maybe she loved the animal, but there was a reason she’d shown up on his mountain, and it couldn’t be good. Everyone had an agenda and he didn’t trust anyone outside his family and Finn. Humanity, in his eyes, was a lost cause.

TWO

Mary Grace slowly awoke from that wonderful, murky place somewhere between sleep and wakefulness and winced as she stretched. Her limbs were stiff and her right side burned like fire. She vaguely remembered being on the mountain... The mountain! She’d taken a bullet and had fallen into a ravine.

She shot upright in bed, sucked in a startled breath at the pain in her side and popped her eyes open. She screamed when a large creature that looked way too much like a wolf opened his mouth and big sharp, gleaming white teeth came toward her. She threw up her arms to protect her face, but instead of razor-sharp blades piercing her arm, she felt a rough tongue gliding against her skin.

The ache in her side left her gasping for air and it was in that helpless, vulnerable state that she noticed a bear of a man sitting in a chair facing her, a roaring fire burning in the stone fireplace behind him.

Was this the elusive Mountain Man she’d been trying to locate, or was he the person who shot her on the mountain? Or were they one and the same? Bobby trusted Mountain Man, but she’d rely on her own gut when she figured out who he was. Not that she was in any condition to defend herself or get away if it came down to it.

Her heart racing, she quickly scanned her surroundings and wasn’t at all happy with what she discovered. There were two doors in the small cabin. One appeared to be the front door and the other smaller door probably led to a bathroom.

She took a deep breath and locked a steady gaze on the man. She did her best to achieve what Gram Ramsey always advised in that strong, independent, proud Georgian tone of hers, Always use proper manners, but don’t ever let ’em see you sweat. Look like you’re strong and know what you’re about, even if you’re quivering inside like Jell-O.

She prayed she’d make her grandmother proud and lifted her chin. “Where’s my dog?”

The man just sat there and kept staring at her like a knot on a log. The keen observation she was known for in her chosen profession as a journalist went active. The man appeared to be a throwback from mountaineer times. He was huge, really huge, with dark bushy hair that brushed the collar of his plaid shirt. An unkempt beard covered most of his face. Unblinking, razor-sharp green eyes stared back at her. He wore holey ancient jeans. She noticed a heavy fleece jacket hanging on a coat rack placed next to the front door.

He was large, like in a mountain-man-horror-film type of big, which directly opposed the odd tendril of attraction she felt when those green eyes flickered with a small degree of warmth. Her body ached, her side felt like an inferno and testiness quickly replaced any lingering terror.

She ignored her unreliable feelings where men were concerned and blurted out, “I said, where’s my dog?” There! That came out sounding firm and in control. At least she hoped it did.

A sound came from a lower wall beside the kitchen counter and a portion of the wall lifted inward, allowing Tinker Bell inside the cabin. Mary Grace’s fingers tightened on the plaid blanket thrown over her and she was really wishing she’d brought the gun safely tucked away in her Arlington town house with her.

Her eyes widened when Tink approached the bed and the big wolf dog moved to the side so her baby could hop up beside her. She held Tinker Bell to her chest, closed her eyes and said a quick prayer, asking the good Lord to keep her safe, then took a deep fortifying breath and lifted her lids. She subdued the nervous laughter bubbling up inside her as she wondered if the man had even blinked while her eyes were closed. He hadn’t moved a muscle since she’d woken up.

“Who sent you?” His words sounded gruff and rusty, as if he didn’t talk much.

“Are you Mountain Man?” She inwardly rolled her eyes. Thus far, they had exchanged a few two-and three-word sentences. Her colleagues would find her situation amusing because she was widely known as a shark disguised as a soft-spoken Southern woman. She had a talent for squeezing every tiny bit of information out of the politicians on Capitol Hill without their even realizing it. She attributed her success to her Southern upbringing, and she didn’t think those particular attributes would work on this big, solid mountain man, but she’d give it her best shot.

She dug deep and dredged up a sweet, soft smile. He couldn’t have been the person trying to kill her on the mountain. He’d had plenty of opportunity to do away with her and hide her body while she was unconscious. Her fake smile wavered as she felt the bindings on her side pull and she wondered if this crazy mountain man had patched her up, but she kept her smile in place.

“Why don’t we start over. My name is Mary Grace Ramsey, and no one sent me. Well, that’s actually not true. My brother did send me, but that’s a long story and I need to find a man everyone refers to as Mountain Man. The sheriff in Jackson Hole said people around here call him Ned. He’s supposed to help me. But then I got lost on the mountain and someone started shooting—”

“Stop!”

His bellowed word sounded pained and he rubbed his forehead.

“Do you have a headache? Maybe you should take some aspirin. I’ve always found that—”

“Stop!” he bellowed once again. “Just be quiet for a moment.”

Her chattering was already working. This wasn’t a simple mountain man. Under duress, his short verbal gruffness had revealed a sophisticated speech with an underlying Scottish brogue.

He closed his eyes for a minute, then blinked them back open. “Are you for real?”

Mary Grace rubbed Tink’s head. Time to make good use of her famous interview skills. “I’m not sure how to answer that question, but if you’re Ned, then we definitely have several things to discuss, and sooner would be better, considering someone shot me earlier.”

Seeing the stunned look on his face, she gave him a big, warm Georgian smile.

He attempted to smile back, but it looked more like a feral grin, throwing her game back in her face. “Who’s your brother?”

He had picked out the key part of her chattering, which shouted of intelligence. She’d have to tread carefully around this man.

“Well, technically, he’s my stepbrother, but I refer to him as my real brother because we’re very close.”

His chair slid back as he stood and walked to the side of her bed. Her fingers tightened on Tinker Bell as he towered over her. He was even larger than she had originally thought, but she forced her hands to relax.

“Your brother’s name?”

It really made her mad when her hands shook. “Bobby Lancaster.”

His eyes narrowed, and his large hands fisted at his sides. Deep, abiding fear sliced through Mary Grace, but she gallantly lifted her chin and glared at him.

He leaned over her and Tink and his long beard tickled her chin, he was so close. “Where is he?” he breathed in an ominous tone.

Fury filled Ned when Bobby Lancaster’s name rolled off her lips. It didn’t help his disposition that he found the irritating woman beautiful, either. She had light brown hair with sun-kissed streaks winding through the strands, and those golden eyes of hers were enough to bring a man to his knees. He imagined her soft-spoken Southern accent encouraged people, both men and women, to spill all their well-kept secrets.

He refused to fall into her trap.

“Where’s Bobby?” Anger made his words sound harsh. He almost regretted his question when she scooted away from him, toward the wall that the bed was pushed against, but he didn’t move.

The rat growled, but Ned ignored it until his own dog pushed his way between Ned and the bed. He was stunned. Krieger was protecting the woman and her dog. He growled at Krieger and his dog growled back. He couldn’t believe this little slip of a woman had turned his trusted companion against him.

Ned knew his mother would have been appalled at the way he was treating Mary Grace Ramsey, and his dog might have decided to trust her, but that little ping he’d felt in his heart right after she spoke for the first time and defended her rat dog went still. A dark wall of mistrust replaced any minute tender feelings he had allowed himself to feel.

His gut clenched when her lower lip quivered, but he felt justified in his wariness when she pasted on another warm smile.

“I take it you know my brother, and that must mean you’re Mountain Man, or rather Ned. I’m so glad I found you. You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through—”

“Stop!”

Ned backed away from the woman and winced at the expression of relief on her face. Maybe he did need an aspirin. He grabbed the wooden chair from in front of the fireplace, flipped it backward close to the side of the bed and straddled it. He nudged Krieger out of the way, leaned forward and folded his arms across the back of the chair.

“Let’s start over. Yes, I’m Ned. I want to know exactly why you’re on my mountain and I would highly advise you to tell the truth.”

She scrunched up her pert little nose. “My gram would have something to say about your manners and hospitality.”

He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest and waited. It took less than two seconds. The woman could probably talk the hair off a dog.

“Fine. You know my name. Bobby is my brother, and two days ago I found a note from him that someone had slipped into my tote bag. It said he’s in big trouble, but that he’s innocent and for me not to trust anyone inside the Beltway or I might get myself killed. That’s where I live, you know. Well, not actually inside the Beltway. I have a sweet little town house just outside the city in Arlington—”

Ned couldn’t help himself, he released a low growl and she quickly got back on track.

“Sorry, anyway, he told me to contact you, that you’re a big part of whatever is going on and that you could protect me. I’m really glad I found you, because besides getting shot here, I’m pretty sure someone tried to run me down in the city. I was afraid to call the police because of Bobby’s warning, so here I am.”

“Where’s Bobby?” Ned now wanted to wring her stepbrother’s neck for several reasons. He’d planned to personally interview Bobby if his carefully laid plan to draw the bad guys to his mountain didn’t work out, and he’d also wondered if Bobby had been coerced to do what Ned had proof he’d done. Either way, Bobby was involved in the mission that left Ned’s best friend in a wheelchair for life and now he’d placed his own sister in danger.

Unless Bobby had sent her to Ned’s mountain to finish the job someone had botched in England—to rid the world of Ned and Finn. Another startling question begged to be answered—how had she found him? Only a handful of people knew where he’d holed up.

She picked at a thread on the plaid blanket. “I, um, don’t know where Bobby is.” She lifted her head and started gabbing again. “And that’s the honest truth. I tried calling him and even called his boss at Langley. They said he was on leave. I’m really worried. Bobby and I are pretty close. You see, he was only eight years old when my mama decided to marry his daddy—”

She stopped talking when Ned raised a hand in the air.

“I’m not interested in your life story.” He leaned forward again. “How did you find me?”

He could almost see the wheels turning behind those sharp golden eyes. She might act like a silly Southern debutante, but Ned had learned long ago how to cut through a ton of garbage and grab the nugget hidden inside. His gut screamed that she was smart as a whip, and he seldom read people wrong. The question was whether she was telling the truth or planned to slit his throat the first chance she got.

She pulled the thread completely out of the plaid blanket and tossed it to the floor. The fact that she didn’t have a ready answer told him she was carefully weighing her words.

“The note Bobby slipped into my bag said I was in serious danger and that I’d be safe with Mountain Man, who was currently residing in Jackson Hole. The sheriff gave me directions to this mountain, and I was afraid Tink and I were going to freeze to death before I found you.”

She rubbed a hand across the quilt and stared at the unique coloring. “Is this some kind of a special design? Kind of like the tartan colors they use in Scotland?” She glanced around the cabin again. “And speaking of colors, you don’t have any Christmas decorations.”

Based on the hideous Christmas sweaters the woman and her dog were wearing, Ned assumed she was a big fan of the holiday, but he made sure his expression revealed none of his hidden thoughts. He hadn’t celebrated Christmas in a long time.

He studied her a moment longer and a facet of her personality settled in his gut. Her chatter and speech slowed down when she went on a fishing expedition, and she was trying to find out more about him, hence the question about the quilt. She must have picked up on his Scottish accent, which proved her power of observation was keen, but he didn’t have time to play games. The man he had allowed to get away was still on his mountain because the perimeter alerts would have gone off if he’d left.

He had to determine if the intruder was after him or Miss Ramsey. Speaking of which...

“Are you married?”

Her head jerked up and her light brown eyebrows scrunched together.

“There’s a killer out there and you want to know if I’m married?” Her voice raised several octaves higher.

He didn’t see anything wrong with the question. It always paid to know whom you were dealing with. He denied the tiny niggle in his chest telling him he wanted to know for personal reasons. That was preposterous. This was about finding Bobby Lancaster and dealing with the people who wanted him and Finn dead, and that was it.

He stared at her without blinking.

“Fine, I’m not married, nor have I ever been.”

He couldn’t stop the next question that shot from his mouth. “Boyfriend?”

She sniffed. She actually sniffed, reminding him of a little old lady.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I don’t have a boyfriend. At least I don’t have one at the moment.”

The tightness in his chest eased and he had no idea why. Her incessant chattering must have scrambled his brain.

“Forget the chitchat. We have a big problem on our hands. I need all the information you can give me. The man who tried to kill you is still on the mountain, and I need to track him down, but first you have to tell me everything.”

Those golden eyes narrowed, reminding him of a mother panther getting ready to strike while defending her young.

“Do you think that’s why Bobby’s in hiding, because someone is trying to kill him, too?”

“You’re sticking to what you’ve told me? You know nothing more?”

Exasperation filled her voice. “I’ve told you everything. Bobby somehow got me that note, telling me to leave DC and find you. Someone tried to run me down in Washington, and then they tried to kill me on this atrocious mountain.”

Ned’s mind worked furiously. He tried to think of a way to rid himself of Mary Grace Ramsey, but her brother had pulled her into this mess, and Ned’s best opportunity of finding the possible traitor was to keep Bobby’s sister as close as possible. Whether major or minor, Bobby was part of what had happened to him and Finn. Whether by choice or not was another matter. Now that Mary Grace Ramsey was in the picture, his plan to lure those responsible to his mountain was trashed. Her brother had now become his only lead and he had to find him.

He rose from the chair, crossed the room and reached for his jacket.

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t hear a speck of fear in her voice. It was more of a demand. He had to give her credit, the lady had guts.

He shoved his arms into the sleeves and strapped the high-powered rifle to his chest.

“I’m going hunting.”

She winced as she threw her legs over the side of the small cot. “But you can’t just leave me here. What if he comes back?” She held out a hand. “Give me a gun.” At his lifted brow, she added, “I know how to shoot.”

He didn’t respond and she lifted her chin. “I’m from Georgia. I know how to handle a weapon.”

“I just bet you do, Miss Mary Grace Ramsey. Do you know how to use a knife, too? Do you plan to slit my throat the first chance you get? Are you and your brother working together to get rid of me and Finn?” He didn’t really think she was there to kill him, especially after she’d been shot trying to find him, but he threw out the question to gauge her reaction.

Her mouth dropped open and Ned wanted to believe she was innocent in all of this, but he’d learned a long time ago that an innocent face could hide a host of danger.

“You’re a very rude man, Ned.”

His lips curled upward at the corners. It was an odd sensation. One he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He placed his hand on the latch to open the solid wooden door, but stilled when Krieger released a low dark growl. Ned sprang into action. “Krieger, to the cellar,” he commanded. He was by Mary Grace’s side within a few strides. He scooped her into his arms and ran to the back of the cabin.

“Wait,” she screeched. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you have to get Tinker Bell, the dog carrier and my backpack.”

Ned shifted Mary Grace to his left side, holding her like a football, wincing when she gasped in pain, and in one fell swoop he ran his arm through the straps of both packs on the floor, grabbed the dog by the scruff of the neck and kicked a lower panel on the back inside wall of the cabin. A portion of the wall lifted just as a huge explosion rocked the small structure.

Ned practically dove into the yawning darkness below as a bright orange detonation took place at the front of the structure and his cabin shook under the force. The woman was screaming and squirming in his arm and her rat dog bit his hand while he was trying his best to save them. He had a sinking feeling in his gut that this whole mess wasn’t going to end well.

THREE

Throwing up became a real possibility for Mary Grace. She gritted her teeth against the pain in her side as Ned held her tight with one arm while running down a flight of stairs into total darkness. She couldn’t believe someone had bombed the cabin. Was there more than one man following her on the mountain? She was used to reporting the news, not being part of it.

“Hang tight. We should be okay. The cabin is built with reinforced steel under the wood.”

She couldn’t respond. Air hissed through her teeth until he gently placed her on the floor. She took a deep breath as a lantern flickered to life. The light reflected on Ned’s fierce, concerned expression and she took another quick breath to calm herself. A mass of emotions roiled through her. Fear and—she couldn’t believe it under the circumstances—still that annoying attraction to the man currently hovering over her. It wasn’t possible. She barely knew the guy and he had the manners of a warthog, but there it was, the tiniest little flutter in her heart. She ignored it.

Tink whimpered and Ned’s big dog trundled over to offer what Mary Grace assumed was comfort. It worked because Tinker Bell quit shivering and growled when the massive dog licked her on the face. The limp and tattered Christmas bows had disappeared and her sweet little dog looked like a wrung-out dishrag in her previously pristine doggy Christmas sweater.

Tentatively, Mary Grace reached out and laid a hand on the large animal next to her little one. “Sweet Krieger. Nice doggy.” He allowed her to pet him. His fur was long and felt wiry to the touch.

“Mary Grace,” Ned said in a soft tone, “I’m going to have to recon the area. I bandaged your wound before you woke up, but I need to check and see if it started bleeding again.”

Mary Grace didn’t want to talk about the explosion and the men who had just tried to decimate them. Not just yet. She needed a minute. “When we get through this, you’ll have to tell me how you and Krieger met. He seems like a sweet dog, once you get to know him.”

Ned kneeled in front of her and placed the lantern on the hard, cold dirt-packed floor.

“I was wrong about you.”

Her hand stilled in Krieger’s wiry, comforting fur. “What?”

“I thought you were tough, but here you are, wimping out on me at the first sign of trouble.”

Her nostrils flared at the insult. “You don’t know anything about me, so how dare you accuse me of being a wimp.”

He grinned and she realized he had done the same thing to her that his dog had to Tinker Bell.

“I can check my own wound,” she said, embarrassment threading through her words.

Mary Grace lost her train of thought when he smiled again, revealing a set of perfectly aligned, sparkling white teeth. The man definitely wasn’t what he appeared to be and her reporter’s curiosity was roused. Maybe she’d do a piece on him once they were out of this mess. He had a closet full of secrets and she could literally smell a story.

“I didn’t know you were modest.” He actually chuckled. “Don’t worry, the bullet went straight through the fleshy part of your waist. Even though you bled a good bit, it’s not a serious wound.”

“Easy for you to say.”

He stood and towered over her before reaching for something under the staircase. He came out with a pistol and handed it to her. “You said you knew how to use one of these.”

She grasped the gun and looked it over. “SIG Sauer P38. Perfect.”

He chuckled one more time before climbing the stairs. Over his shoulder, he issued a command. “Krieger, protect the woman and dog.”

Before she could protest, he disappeared silently through the hidden doorway.

Her hand shook as she checked to make sure the gun was locked and loaded. She had done her best to hide her true emotions from Ned. She was not only terrified at the situation she found herself in, but worried sick about Bobby. As far as she knew, her brother was a simple computer analyst with the CIA. They had lured him in straight after school by offering to pay off his college loans if he’d work for them for five years. Mary Grace had advised him against it because she knew how naive Bobby was and how political the CIA had become. She offered to help him until he got established, but he was determined to make it on his own.

After rubbing a hand over her wound to make sure it wasn’t bleeding, she picked up the lantern and held it high, checking out the cellar. It wasn’t very large—about half the length of the cabin. Both the walls and floor were constructed with hard-packed dirt, but the interesting thing was the canned food and water stored on crude shelves built against the wall. Matches, several more lanterns and a first-aid kit were there if needed.

Settling her back against the wall, she kept the gun in her hand and her ears peeled for any sound coming from upstairs. Both Krieger and Tink snuggled beside her, and she decided to review the information she had so far. It helped to keep her calm and her mind from wondering whether Ned was okay out there on that freezing, fierce mountain with killers running loose.

She knew next to nothing about the man living on this mountain in the middle of nowhere. Was Ned his real name, and what was his last name? What did he do for a living? Her reporter’s curiosity had been roused and she knew from experience that she wouldn’t stop until she found out everything there was to know about the man.

In her mind’s eye, she went over what she’d seen of the cabin, searching for clues. The place itself wasn’t much to look at. Log walls. A tiny kitchen/living area. The bed she’d lain in was pushed against the wall and there was one door, besides the obvious front door, that probably led to the bathroom.

What struck her was the neatness of the place. It made her think of military precision. An old couch with a ratty afghan folded across the back sat in the middle of the living area. A coffee table squatted in front of the couch, but there were no side tables. No computers or TV anywhere. Mary Grace’s eyes narrowed as she remembered seeing a large landscape painting hanging on the wall beside the bed. She had only glanced at it, but the quality seemed out of sync with the cabin, so she filed the information away. In the past, she’d broken stories wide open by taking note of the smallest details.

She shivered and both dogs snuggled closer. She knew she should do a better check on her wound, but she didn’t want to lose the warmth of the animals.

Chewing her lower lip, she tried not to worry about Bobby, but she couldn’t stop herself. He was the only family that counted outside of Gram Ramsey. She still prayed for her mother and stepfather, but had pretty much given up hope of them overcoming their gambling addiction. She smiled as she thought of her grandmother. The older woman was a spitfire and Mary Grace knew this time of year the old historic house would be traditionally festooned with Christmas decorations—a lot of them made by Mary Grace and Bobby when they were kids—and a huge live tree. Gram stood about five feet two inches in her stockings, but her strong will and absolute faith made her seem ten feet tall. She had withstood the tests of time with an elegance that Mary Grace could only aspire to.

A scratching noise upstairs jerked her out of her musings. Krieger got to his feet and quietly stood at the foot of the stairs. Reacting quickly, Mary Grace clamped a hand over Tinker Bell’s snout before the dog could bark. She held her breath and heard a shuffling noise that sounded like someone walking through the remains of the cabin. Whoever it was stopped at the top of the stairs.

She held Tink up to her face. “Shh. Don’t bark. Please.”

Slowly, she released her hand, and when she was sure her dog would stay quiet, she scrambled to her feet, ignoring the pain in her side, and crossed to stand beside Krieger. She willed her hands to stay steady as she lifted the gun and held it with both hands toward the small hidden door at the top of the stairs. It hadn’t been long since Ned left, and it could be him returning, but what if it wasn’t?

The panel started to open, and she tightened her grip on the gun, ready to stop the killer.

Standing from his crouch over the footprints he’d discovered circling around to the back of the cabin, Ned’s head had snapped up and his body tensed when he heard a snowmobile coming toward the front. Sound carried differently in the mountains and there was no way of knowing how close it was. By the time he raced around the structure, someone had already entered the cabin.

His pulse pounded as he called on years of training and forced himself to relax. He slowly mounted the steps, then sidestepped the front door, which hung by the top two hinges.

“Uncle Ned?”

The tentative, fear-filled words froze the blood in his veins.

He’d warned his family to stay away from the cabin until he notified them, but his niece, Fran, was an intelligent, determined twenty-four-year-old woman currently working on her master’s in advertising. What scared him was that his niece was on the mountain at the same time as the killer. He stared at her, standing in front of the open panel that led to the hidden basement. He didn’t know if Mary Grace would realize Fran was friendly, but before he could control the situation, Krieger bounded out of the opening with the woman on his heels, the rat dog tucked under one arm and the gun in the opposite hand. He was relieved to see the weapon quickly lowered to her right side.

Fear stamped on her face, Fran glanced between the two of them, then dropped her gaze to the gun in Mary Grace’s hand.

“Uncle Ned?”

“Aye, niece, I’m here. Everything’s okay.”

He opened his arms and Fran flew against his chest. She shivered for a few minutes, then pulled away. Propping her hands on slim hips, she attempted to show bravado, but Ned could see the fear lingering in her eyes.

“It looks like you’ve gotten yourself into a real mess this time.” She slanted a questioning look toward Mary Grace. “Wait till I tell Mom and Grandfather.”

Ned shook his head and went along with her stab at courage. “Ye and yer mother canna seem to stay out of my business. ’Tis embarrassing.”

With a triumphant glint in her eyes, Mary Grace scooted forward and he gently took the gun from her hand when she got close enough to get in his face.

“I knew you had a Scottish background. I just knew it.”

She appeared very pleased with herself until Ned cut a sharp glance toward Fran, sending her a message to keep quiet about his private life.

Mary Grace took a step back, folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot. “I saw that.”

He ignored her astute observation and addressed his niece. “Sweetheart, I know you’re a grown, independent woman, living at home while you work on getting your master’s, but does your mother know you’re here? You know she worries.” Fran might be twenty-four years old, but she still managed that sweet, pleading look that always turned his heart to mush. He lifted a hand.

“Never mind. We have to get off this mountain. I’m pretty sure the guy who bombed the cabin is gone, but there’s no way to be certain.”

Both ladies tensed, and he could almost smell their fear return. He mentally shook his head. How, after meticulous planning and patiently waiting, had these two women ended up in his cabin at the exact moment his enemy had decided to attack? If it was indeed his enemy and not Mary Grace’s. It was implausible, at least concerning Mary Grace. But she was connected to all of this through her brother.

He had to track down Bobby Lancaster and he needed Mary Grace to make that happen.

“Did you check your wound?” Her hesitation answered his question. “Do it now and do it fast. We’re leaving in ten minutes.” He turned to Fran as Mary Grace flew back down the stairs to the basement. “Did you see anyone on your way up the mountain?”

Fran’s eyes widened. “Y-you mean like the person who did this to your cabin?”

Ned nodded. “Didn’t you hear the blast?” He felt bad about scaring her, but she needed to know the gravity of the situation.

“N-no. I couldn’t hear anything above the noise of the snowmobile.” She glanced toward the darkened stairwell. “Was she hurt in the blast?”

“Her name is Mary Grace Ramsey. I found her in a ravine with a gunshot wound well before the bomb was detonated.” He rushed out an explanation when Fran’s face paled. “She’s fine. Just a flesh wound.”

His niece lifted big blue eyes full of love that sent an arrow straight to his heart. “Uncle Ned, are you in trouble? I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”

“Aw, come here, lassie.” He folded her in his arms, then placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back, looking straight into her eyes. “Now havenae I always come back home in one piece?”

She grinned, and he was glad to see it. “Your accent always shows itself when you’re emotional.”

“Aye, that it does.” He grinned and stepped back. “Now, let’s get off this mountain.”

Mary Grace cleared the top step. The dog carrier was strapped to the front of her body and she winced as she slid the straps of her backpack over her shoulders. “I’m all for that,” she said, and gave him a look, practically daring him to mention her wound. “I’ll be fine and I’m ready to leave. I left my car at the base of the mountain.”

Ned led the way to the front door, but came to a grinding halt when he heard a sharp bark behind him and his niece squealed. “You have a dog! What a precious little thing.”

Waiting for both women to come up behind him on the front porch, Ned scanned the frozen tundra surrounding them, but he didn’t sense the presence of another human being. He’d checked a half-mile perimeter around the cabin and at the front of the structure found the remnants of a simple bomb. It had an attachment that appeared as if the device had been detonated remotely. Whoever tried to kill them had left the mountain. He felt it in his gut.

“Stay close.”

He heard Mary Grace grumble to Fran behind him. “Your uncle is certainly a man of few words.”

Fran whispered, “He wasn’t always this way.”

Ned sent her a sharp look over his shoulder and Fran zipped her lips. He pulled the shed door open and started checking his snowmobile.

Mary Grace sidled next to him. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure no one has tampered with my equipment.”

Her eyes rounded and she didn’t ask any more questions, which suited him just fine. He’d talked more since meeting her than he had in a long time.

“Fran, you’ll take your snowmobile. I’ll strap Krieger in behind you. Mary Grace can ride with me. I’ll take the lead, but you stay close. I want to get you back to your mother safe and sound.”

“But, Uncle Ned—”

He interrupted what he knew was coming. Fran and Sylvia were always at odds these days, and normally he would try to help, but now was not the time.

His voice was loving, but firm. “We’ll talk later.”

Everything checked out, so he fired up the snowmobile and motioned for Mary Grace to hop on. He didn’t miss her wince of pain as she threw her leg over the seat.

“Hold on tight.”

She placed her arms around his waist and Ned felt an unfamiliar warmth at her touch. He attributed it to the fact that he hadn’t dated or even been around many women in the last few years. Ignoring the sensation, he pulled in front of the cabin. Fran was already seated on her snowmobile and ready to ride. She’d strapped Krieger in herself.

Ned took two helmets from the side of his snowmobile and handed one to Mary Grace. When they were both ready, he took off and Fran followed closely.

If he were still a praying man, he would have sent up a quick prayer for their safety, but he’d learned not to trust anyone but himself, and that included a God who allowed good people to get hurt.

It didn’t take long to reach the bottom of the mountain, but fortune wasn’t on his side. They pulled to a stop beside Mary Grace’s car and there stood Sheriff Jack Hoyt, his arms crossed over his chest. Ned cut the engine and helped Mary Grace off the back of the sled. Fran was already off her snowmobile and came to stand beside Ned.

Ned nodded at the lawman. “Sheriff.”

Sheriff Hoyt nodded back. “Ned.”

He heard Mary Grace grumble. “What is it with this town? Do all the men speak in one-syllable words?”

Ned ignored her and watched the sheriff. He didn’t have time for any delays or long explanations. He hoped the mountain and snow had muffled the blast enough that it hadn’t been heard in Jackson Hole.

Hoyt’s brows lifted as he nodded at Fran, then focused on Mary Grace. “Saw your vehicle on the side of the road and figured you’d decided to try to find Ned.”

To her credit, Mary Grace pasted on a friendly smile and her explanation didn’t leave any openings for questions. “I sure did, and I appreciate all your help.”

Hoyt turned to Fran. “Didn’t know you were familiar with Ned.”

Taking her cue from Mary Grace, Fran grinned at the sheriff. “I’ve seen him around a few times.”

Ned slowly released the breath he’d been holding. His family understood he didn’t want anyone in Jackson Hole to know he was related to them for their own safety. One day his past might catch up with him.

Hoyt leveled a disbelieving look at the three of them, but cracked a grin when Mary Grace’s dog stuck its head out of the pouch and barked. The sheriff moved close and rubbed its fluffy white head.

“Aw, what a cute dog. I have one of my own. Left him at the station today.”

Hoyt stepped back and gave them all a hard look. “So everything is okay here?”

Ned’s gut clenched when Mary Grace gave the sheriff a wide, welcoming grin.

“Absolutely,” she said, “and I’m sorry for leaving my car on the side of the road. Ned’s driveway was impassable, so I hiked to his cabin. Well, we’ll just be on our way now. I’m sure you’d like to get back to the station where it’s warm.”

Hoyt gave them one last lingering look, nodded and folded his long frame into his patrol car.

Maybe living alone on his mountain hadn’t been a good idea, because when Mary Grace gave that warm, gracious smile to the sheriff, Ned wanted to strangle the guy.

Maybe he’d been isolated for too long and it had affected his brain.

FOUR

Mary Grace hunched over the steering wheel in her rental car as she followed the two snowmobiles in front of her. Ned had said Fran lived several miles away.

She checked the heater to make sure it was on full blast. She’d never been so cold in her life. She’d take the sticky, sweet humidity in Georgia any day over these bone-chilling temperatures.

She couldn’t imagine Ned living all alone on that isolated mountain. But maybe not completely alone. She now knew he had a sister and a niece. They evidently visited periodically. When she awoke that morning, she assumed he was all alone, because why in the world would anyone choose to live sequestered in complete isolation?

Tinker Bell growled when Krieger stuck his massive head between the bucket seats.

“It’s okay, Tink. Krieger just wants to be friends.”

Tink growled one more time for good measure and Krieger disappeared into the back seat. The dogs reminded Mary Grace of her and Ned. Uptown girl meets gruff mountain man. She chuckled at the comparison, but sobered when she remembered riding on the snowmobile with her arms wrapped around his waist. Something had stirred deep inside her. It was attraction and that was ridiculous. She didn’t even know what his face looked like. It was almost completely covered by a beard that appeared as if it hadn’t been groomed for months. Her grandmother would have been horrified by his appearance. About the one thing she was sure of so far was that the man calling himself Ned apparently loved his niece and, judging by his reaction, loathed Mary Grace’s brother.

He was an enigma. She had to find out everything about Ned’s connection to Bobby so she could protect her brother. She had no idea what was going on, but she’d find out. It was her gift—ferreting out secrets and information.

Outside of his negative reaction at the mention of her brother’s name, the only thing Ned had actually said about Bobby was when he asked if she and her brother were working together to get rid of him and Finn.

Who was Finn and why would someone be trying to get rid of both men? But the most disturbing question was how her brother was involved in this situation. The people after Mary Grace and Bobby weren’t playing games. Even though she finally felt warm, she shivered at the thought of the recent attempts on her life. She prayed Bobby would be safe until she could resolve this situation.

Her reporter’s curiosity piqued once again when she made a right turn behind the snowmobiles onto a long driveway that appeared manicured, even beneath the snow. After making several soft turns, a large house loomed at the end of the driveway. A sizable fountain stood in the middle of the circular drive, complementing the wood and stone structure. She wouldn’t classify it as a mansion, but it definitely came under the heading of mini mansion.

She cut the engine and flung open her car door. This was her best chance to find out more about Ned. There was no name on the mailbox and she needed information. She’d always had great rapport with other women. One mention of their cute kids or their pets or their boyfriends/husbands and they were usually off and running. Politicians would be the exception to that rule. She had to break out the big guns for those interviews.

She had one leg out of the car when Ned silently appeared and halted her momentum with a big bear claw on the door, stopping her from reaching her goal: to talk to his sister.

“You stay here. I’ll be back.”

His quiet but firm order really burned her. The terror she’d experienced on the mountain had melted away and she was more herself now.

She jutted her chin out. “Why should I?”

His expression didn’t change, but she noted the twitch in his left eye, the only thing that remotely revealed what he was feeling.

“Because I’m the only one who can protect you while we look for your brother.”

Like she was born yesterday. “For all I know, you want to kill Bobby. Why should I trust you?”

Her heart palpitated when he grinned for the second time since she’d met him, and her gut clenched. No, no, no, she absolutely refused to be attracted to this bear of a man. He hovered over her open door like a caveman. He had to be at least six and a half feet tall. She considered herself of average height at five feet six inches, but he towered over her. He wasn’t skin and bones, either. She briefly wondered how much muscle was hidden beneath those layers of clothes.

“Because your brother sent you to me.”

Well, that took the wind out of her sails. He was right. Bobby had sent her to Ned. With little grace, she jerked her leg back inside the car and grabbed the door handle. It’d serve him right if his hand got caught in the door, but that wasn’t to be. He showed his superior strength by holding on to the door until he was ready to release it. She gritted her teeth and pulled hard. He let go suddenly and the door slammed shut, rattling her hand.

Fuming, she crossed her arms over her chest and watched as Ned met Fran at the sidewalk and together they walked through the front door, firmly closing it behind them.

“Tink, I don’t trust that man, not with Bobby’s life on the line.”

Tink barked and Mary Grace jerked when a big, rough tongue licked the side of her neck. She turned her head and looked at Ned’s dog. “If only you could talk.” The animal’s eyes were full of intelligence and she remembered how Krieger had followed Ned’s orders right before the explosion. She sat upright in her seat. Was Krieger military or police-trained?

As happened when she came across a vital piece of information while pursuing a story, her adrenaline took a sharp spike. She reached across the console and grabbed her backpack from the passenger floorboard of the car. Dropping it onto her lap, she dug through her belongings until her fingers wrapped around her cell phone. She lifted it triumphantly in the air.

“Ha! Got it.” Tink barked her approval and Mary Grace held the smartphone close to her chest. “Now, if I can get a signal, I’ll be in business.”

She turned on the phone and fidgeted in her seat, willing the phone to power up fast. She wanted to do a quick search on Krieger before Ned came out of the house. Her heart beat faster when two bars appeared. Opening the search engine, she typed in Krieger—military dog and pressed the search tab. The blue line at the top had never taken so long, but when it finished, she grinned. There were several articles that popped up immediately.

The first one caught her attention and her nose actually twitched. She was in what she called her “reporter zone,” a place where her gut told her she was on the right track.

It read: Old-fashioned, giant German shepherd musters out with handler after six years of service in Army Special Forces.

Mary Grace quickly skimmed the article, looking for a reference to the handler, but it never gave a name. She checked several other articles, but nothing. They did list all of Krieger’s achievements and they were quite impressive. She glanced over her shoulder.

“I appreciate your service to our country, Krieger.”

Tink growled again, but Mary Grace ignored her and scanned the house and grounds, searching for anything that would give her a clue she could follow to find out Ned’s true identity. Then an idea popped into her head. She opened Google Maps on her smartphone and a map popped up. She got the address of his sister’s house from there and was just following up on that when the driver’s door whooshed open.

“Move over, I’ll drive.”

Mary Grace scooted over the console into the passenger seat and quickly sorted through all her options. She could probably, eventually, find Bobby on her own, and she was uncertain why Ned wanted to find her brother. Was it for information, or had Bobby inadvertently done something to anger this quiet, lethal mountain of a man? On the other hand, there were people trying to kill her and she wasn’t quite ready to meet her Maker. Ned could protect her. She’d stay with him for the time being and try to figure out what was going on. If he would bother saying more than two words, she could make faster progress. She was a whiz at research.

“Fine, but you’re going to have to start talking or I’ll find Bobby on my own.”

For a moment, Mary Grace had amused Ned. Through her eyes, he could almost see her brain rapidly processing her options, but then she smirked. She was up to something.

As he pulled out of the driveway, he glanced at her and considered her demand for answers. She was staring out the window and the rat dog—he really should call it by its name, but Tinker Bell just didn’t feel right slipping past his lips—was glaring at him. The small dog and its name were enough to unman a guy. Concentrating on TB—that’s what he’d call the animal—helped him to ignore the unwanted pull of attraction. Instead of answering her questions, it was time he asked a few of his own and got back to the task at hand.

“Do you have any idea where Bobby might be hiding?”

She turned her head and glared at him, much like her dog.

“Why do you want to find my brother? Bobby said you were a big part of this, whatever this is.”

He stopped the car at the end of the driveway and turned toward her. Her jaw was set at a stubborn angle and her lips were pressed together. He had to give her something or she might bolt, and Mary Grace Ramsey was the only lead he had at the moment. His gut told him Bobby could lead him to the people who were after him and Finn.

All the evidence he had accumulated so far involved Bobby Lancaster, but the geeky young man just didn’t fit the profile of a killer, which is why Ned had been trying to lure the bad guys to his mountain.

He’d soon find out where the CIA’s computer wonder boy had holed up. At this point, he didn’t care who he tipped off. Bobby had gone on the lam recently, and the ambush had happened six months ago, but it had taken Ned four months to get Finn settled, make sure he was okay and then lay his trap for their enemies. Prior to this, he’d stayed on his mountain between missions. No one in town knew when he slipped away and returned because of his hermit-type lifestyle, and he’d made sure no one knew he was related to his sister and niece because danger might follow him from current or previous missions. As far as the townspeople and anyone he worked with knew, he was all alone in the world.

Bobby must have been alerted by something, or found himself in a tight spot and took off. His gut told him that Bobby had to be involved because he’d fed Ned and Finn the bad intel that placed them in danger. Whether it was voluntary or involuntarily, well, that was yet to be determined.

“It’s classified.” She snorted, and he rushed to add, “Fine, I spent some time in the military a while back. You can trust me.”

She didn’t even respond to his admission of a small part of his past, instead she started typing on her phone.

“What are you doing?”

She lifted her head and gave him a challenging grin. “It’s over two thousand miles to Georgia. You wanna drive or fly?”

He was onto her game. To fly, a person had to present identification. He grinned back and whipped out an encrypted satellite phone. He tapped in a number and held the phone close to his ear. There were two clicks, and he knew his contact was listening. “I need the private plane in Jackson Hole, pronto, headed to—” He looked at Mary Grace and almost laughed out loud at the stunned expression on her face.

“Waycross, Georgia,” she answered through gritted teeth.

“Waycross,” he repeated into the phone. “We’ll be at the airport in thirty minutes. No paperwork.”

He put his phone away and turned left out of his sister’s driveway.

Mary Grace settled into her seat and kissed her dog on top of the head. He felt a mood shift in the car. It was almost as if he could sense her switching gears in that agile brain of hers. He liked the challenge of matching wits with her. He’d always appreciated beautiful women, but it was the smart ones who held his attention, and Mary Grace had proven to be very intelligent.

“Why Georgia?”

“That’s where we grew up for the most part, at my grandmother’s house.” She turned toward him, as much as her seat belt would allow. “Unlike you, I have nothing to hide. Bobby and I were both born and raised in Georgia. My father passed away when I was twelve. My mom remarried quickly—way too soon for decency—and Bobby became my little brother. I was a little over thirteen and he was eight years old at the time. I helped take care of him.”

She twisted back around and became interested in the passing scenery as she continued, “Bobby and I spent most of our youth at Gram Ramsey’s house. We had what everyone now refers to as a dysfunctional family. Our parents were, and still are, pretty much gambling addicts. They traveled a lot and we stayed at my grandmother’s house.”

This time the chatter was laced with an undertone of hurt and regret and it made Ned even more curious about Mary Grace. But he clamped down on the sudden protective instinct that rose to the surface as she matter-of-factly discussed a childhood that had to have been fraught with heartache.

He empathized with her pain more than he wanted to and it was time to get the conversation back on track. He had to find Bobby.

“Why would Bobby go to Georgia? If his family lives there, that’s the first place anyone would look for him.”

Relief hit him full force when he glanced at her. The right side of her mouth kicked up and the challenge was back in her eyes.

“You ever been to a swamp, Mountain Man?”

He had fought the enemy plenty of times in a swamp, but decided to let her win this round. For some foolish reason—a reason he didn’t examine too closely—he wanted to see the now-familiar smirk back on her face.

His hands relaxed on the steering wheel as he turned onto the road leading to the airport. “There’s a first time for everything.”

After waving his hand at the guy at the gate, he pulled onto the tarmac right up next to the plane.

Mary Grace gave him an incredulous look. “You can’t just drive onto the tarmac without permission, and don’t we need to go inside and see about the car return and go through security?”

He grabbed her hand, stopping her. “The car will be taken care of and we don’t need to go through security. Stay close to me until we’re on the plane.”

She stared at him for a full minute, then pulled her hand away, her eyes narrowing. “Is this legal? Am I going to end up in jail?”

He couldn’t help it, he grinned through his beard. “Everything is legal, and no, you won’t end up in jail.”

She stared at him a moment longer. “Who are you?” she asked, then grumbled, “Never mind. I’m sure it’s classified.”

She didn’t sound as if she believed him, but after he called Krieger, she and TB did follow him onto the tarmac toward the plane. He stopped halfway there when the fine hair on his nape rose. Mary Grace ran into his back and he pulled her under his arm. Smart woman that she was, she didn’t fight the maneuver.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice muffled under his heavy fleece jacket.

“Stay close to me and run when I say go.”

The instinctual warning system that had saved his life on more than one occasion was screaming a red-hot alert. He took two more steps, moving them closer to the plane before he gave a quiet command. “Go. Now.”

Mary Grace shot out from under his arm, clamored up the steps and barely got through the door before Ned heard a ping on the steps leading into the plane. He took a giant leap forward and slipped into the plane before the sniper could take another shot. Unfortunately, he still didn’t know whom they were shooting at—him or Mary Grace. The bullet could have been meant for either one of them. But the one thing he was sure of was that they needed to get out of there before the sniper found a way to ground them...and finish the job.

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