Her family’s being eliminated, one by one...

But he won’t let her be next

After gunmen attack Caroline Marsh, she’s stunned that she survives—and shocked that her rescuer is her ex-fiancé, Zane Coleman. With her family’s safety on the line, there’s no time for grudges over the past. The killers on her trail won’t give up easily. And although Zane already left her once, for her own protection, he’s not about to lose Caroline again.

JENNA NIGHT comes from a family of Southern-born natural storytellers. Her parents were avid readers and the house was always filled with books. No wonder she grew up wanting to tell her own stories. She’s lived on both coasts, but currently resides in the inland northwest, where she’s astonished by the occasional glimpse of a moose, a herd of elk or a soaring eagle.

Also By Jenna Night

Love Inspired Suspense

Last Stand Ranch

High Desert Hideaway

Killer Country Reunion

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Killer Country Reunion

Jenna Night

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08458-1

KILLER COUNTRY REUNION

© 2018 Virginia Niten

Published in Great Britain 2018

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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“We need to go, Caroline. Now.”

Zane shoved her ahead of him. The headlights bearing down on them grew even brighter. The screaming of the tow truck engine grew shriller. They were just at the edge of the highway when Zane heard the crash of an impact as the heavily reinforced truck plowed into their pickup.

Something hit him behind his right knee, knocking him to the ground and sending him tumbling down an embankment. He heard other pieces of debris crashing into the trees and underbrush around him. Then the lights from the attacking truck suddenly went out and Zane was falling in darkness. Finally, he came to a stop.

“Caroline?” he called out, heart thundering in his chest and sick with fear that she’d been hurt.

She didn’t answer.

He got to his feet, relieved to find that his knee wasn’t badly injured, and called her name again. And again, he didn’t hear her respond.

Zane frantically looked around. Caroline had been beside him just a minute ago. Now she was gone...

Dear Reader,

We can’t get through life without making a few assumptions. But sometimes what we assume about a person isn’t true. Or maybe it isn’t true any longer. All of us have been in a situation where we’d appreciate forgiveness and another chance.

I hope you enjoyed reading about Caroline and Zane as they learned to let go of the past and give each other room to grow into the person each of them was meant to be. And that, of course, opened up the pathway to love.

One of the things I enjoy most about writing for Love Inspired Suspense is connecting with my readers. You can find me at my website, Jennanight.com, on my Jenna Night Facebook page, or you can follow me on Twitter, @Night_Jenna. My email address is Jenna@Jennanight.com. I’d love to hear from you.

Jenna Night

The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust...

—Psalms 18:2

To my mother, Esther. I’m remembering the cry of the whip-poor-will in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia.

Acknowledgments

Many thanks to Elizabeth Mazer, a Killer Editor.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

Acknowledgments

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

Caroline Marsh wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand and sat down on a bench outside, taking a moment to compose herself.

She turned her gaze to the waters of nearby Lake Cobalt, trying to decide whether it would be wiser to let herself have a good hard cry and get it all out of her system, or choke back her grief again—something she’d done a lot, lately.

The attorney she’d just met with had handed over a stack of paperwork and confirmed that, as of today, Caroline was officially the legal owner of her late brother’s business. It was still hard to talk about Owen in the past tense. To acknowledge that her younger brother was really, really gone. His body had been found floating in Seattle’s Elliot Bay, 350 miles to the west, with evidence of blunt force trauma to the back of his head. In the aftermath there’d been no arrests. No suspects identified. Nothing but an open police case that seemed to be going nowhere.

She clutched the sheaf of papers, held together with a black binder clip, a little tighter. Despite the digital age, some things still required paper and actual ink signatures. So here it was, printed in black and white—the official, legal proof that her brother had left her his business and his house so that she’d be equipped to take care of the most precious thing in his life: his son, Dylan.

Pull yourself together.

A four-year-old boy waited for her back at the house with Caroline’s mom. The saddest part was that he wasn’t just waiting for her. A couple of times Caroline had seen him walk to the front window around sundown, his ever-watchful dog, Millie, at his side, to look for Owen. The boy seemed to forget, or perhaps he still didn’t understand, that his dad was never coming home. Every time the heartache over her brother, and for his son, had brought her to tears in front of the boy. She would not let that happen again.

Caroline had little experience dealing with children. She had lived in California while Dylan was growing up here in Idaho. But she was pretty certain it would be best for her nephew if she walked through the door at the house with her shoulders back and a smile on her face. Or at least the closest approximation of a smile she could muster.

A white van pulled up into the parking lot and she heard the side door slide open. It sounded like it was idling at the curb near where she was sitting.

At the same time, she realized a little late-afternoon rain was starting to sprinkle on her legal documents. The lakeside air was already pretty chilly, anyway. Time to go.

She looked up and saw a man walking toward her from the van. His black knit cap was pulled down low. The collar of his jacket was flipped up and concealed the bottom of his face. He strode purposefully, his gaze locked on her eyes.

Unease gnawed at the pit of Caroline’s stomach. The man’s behavior was odd. She thought of Owen and icy fear seeped into her chest. She slid the strap of her purse over her shoulder, took a quick look down at the bench to make sure she wasn’t leaving anything behind and glanced up.

The man lifted his right hand, calmly pointed a gun at her face and fired.

With a burst of energy born of sheer terror, Caroline lunged down and threw the right side of her body across the bench. At the same time she felt a burning sensation rip across the top of her left shoulder.

Dear God, what’s happening?

The gunman continued walking forward, pointing his gun down toward her head, which she now pressed against the seat of the bench. There was a silencer on the end of the gun barrel. Her father had been a cop. She knew what a silencer looked like. If no one heard the shots, no one would come to her rescue. Not until it was too late.

Do something.

She grabbed the bundle of papers that had slid onto the bench and flung it at him. The binder clip collided with the bridge of his nose and his head snapped back.

Heart pounding in her chest, Caroline shoved herself up off the bench and started running.

The van was still idling at the parking lot curb, so she ran in the opposite direction, toward the lake.

The office complex had two levels. The bottom level was a wooden boardwalk built along the edge of Lake Cobalt. It was Friday afternoon and most people had already cleared out for the weekend. Right now, there was nobody else in sight.

Caroline sprinted for the stairs leading down to the offices that jutted out over the water. Grabbing the newel post, she flung herself around the end of the banister and down, taking the steps two at a time, moving as fast as she could go. She tried to yell for help as she ran, but the terror flooding her body gripped her lungs so tightly that it was all she could do to keep breathing.

She reached the bottom step and a bullet flew past her, tearing up the wooden planking by her right foot.

She ran harder, veering to her left around a corner where she caught her foot on the leg of a bistro table, part of one of the many wrought iron sets placed around the boardwalk. Unable to catch her balance, she fell on her face, stunning herself for the first few seconds. Scrambling to right herself, she saw a smoked-glass office door straight ahead with a light glowing inside the office. She ran for it, grabbed the handle and pulled. It didn’t budge.

“Help!” Desperate, Caroline pounded on the door with one hand while continuing to yank on the handle with the other.

Was there even anybody in there? Terror and frustration burned through her blood like fire. She raised both fists, feeling a sharp pain in her left shoulder, and pounded on the glass door as hard as she could. “Help! Someone’s trying to kill me! Let me in! Please!”

In the door’s reflection she saw the gunman round the corner and jog up behind her, grinning and raising his gun.

A couple of people somewhere in the maze-like complex started yelling, but they sounded too far away to help her in time.

It ain’t over till it’s over. It was one of her dad’s favorite expressions. He had a lot of them, and she could almost hear him in her head. Don’t you ever quit.

She whirled around.

Do whatever it takes.

Options. What were her options? She could run, but continuing down the boardwalk along the straight, long stretch ahead would make her an easy target if the gunman knew what he was doing. She could jump into the water if she had to, but she’d never been a fast swimmer. And Cobalt was a deep lake. Besides, the water in late September was too chilly for swimming. Cold muscles would slow her down.

But jumping into the lake was the only reasonable choice she could find—the one with the best shot at keeping her alive. Too bad she’d taken so long to decide. The gunman was now just a couple of steps away from her. It was too late.

Never give up.

She frantically looked around, and then jammed her hand into a big urn-shaped planter beside the office door. She grabbed a handful of dirt and decorative rocks and threw it in the guy’s face, hoping it would be enough of a distraction for her to get away.

It didn’t faze him.

Ignoring the small projectiles, he snatched her arm before she could get away. “Stop fighting. It’s over.” He lifted his gun and pointed it at her forehead.

Someone in the office behind the locked door screamed.

Her attacker glanced in that direction. Caroline did, too, and saw three witnesses who had moved close enough to the door to be visible and were watching the struggle playing out in front of them.

Maybe in his reflection on the glass the gunman saw what Caroline had just noticed. In the chase, his collar had flattened out and the bottom half of his face was now uncovered. His beanie had also ridden up a little. His appearance was not as well hidden as it had been when he’d started. And even if she was killed, there were other witnesses now who had seen him.

Still clutching her arm, the gunman dragged her away from the door, down the boardwalk and around the corner, back toward the bottom of the stairs. Maybe it was a precaution in case he got caught. None of the witnesses would be able to testify that they’d actually seen him kill her.

Sirens wailed in the distance.

Anger at the situation flared up alongside the fear coursing through Caroline’s body. She wasn’t going down without a fight. She twisted her arm, trying to break his grip. When that didn’t work, she kicked out her foot and tried to trip him.

Dear Lord, she prayed, forcing her thoughts away from anticipating the shot that would end this battle. Please protect Dylan.

Who would take care of him if she was gone? Caroline’s mom experienced lingering damage from a heart attack that made her tire more easily than she used to. She could look after the boy for several hours a day now while he was still small, freeing Caroline to take care of all the necessary legal matters, but it wasn’t a permanent solution. The task of raising him as he grew older would likely be too much for her mother, meaning she wouldn’t be able to take custody.

Dylan’s biological mother, Michelle, had decided after eight months of motherhood that she was wasting her youth and missing out on too much fun. She’d walked out on Owen and Dylan, severed all ties and filed for divorce. Through friends in town who’d seen her, Owen knew she’d fallen in with an unsavory crowd. He’d told Caroline that while his ex-wife had never been convicted of a crime, her boyfriend had been locked up on several occasions for a variety of offenses. Most involved drugs.

Owen had mentioned to Caroline that he suspected his former wife used drugs. For that reason, and because he realized their mother’s health was fragile, he had requested in his will that Caroline be given custodianship of Dylan should something happen to him. The court system had agreed.

The poor kid no longer had his dad. And he hadn’t seen his mom or anyone in her family since he was an infant. He had his grandma, but he needed Caroline, too. She couldn’t die—not here, not today. Not when that precious boy needed her.

“No!” Exhausted from running and fighting, Caroline somehow summoned up the surge of strength she needed to twist her body away from the gunman and finally break free of his grip.

Then something happened. She couldn’t see what it was because the action was behind her. But suddenly the full weight of the gunman—plus more—was pressing on her and she was knocked down to the boardwalk. She smacked her head and saw a few sparkles of light. A feeling of drowsiness threatened to overtake her but she fought against it. If she allowed her heavy eyelids to drop shut, that would be the end of everything.

* * *

Zane Coleman kept his focus on the man’s gun. Two tours in Afghanistan had trained him well, guaranteeing he’d never lose sight of a bad guy’s weapon.

Hearing a woman scream “No!” he’d dropped the ranch expansion permits he’d just picked up at the Jefferson County building department and raced to the stairs. He’d run down the first four or five steps before taking a flying leap and tackling a man who was grabbing a woman and holding a gun. His hard landing knocked the wind out of him, but he could tell it did the same to the bad guy, too.

The woman, also knocked down when Zane landed on the guy, was likely getting her face pushed into the boardwalk. But there wasn’t anything he could do about that right now. His focus was on shoving his left hand onto the back of the man’s left shoulder to keep him pinned in place while he reached with his right hand to yank the handgun from the man’s grip.

Unfortunately, the gunman recovered faster than Zane anticipated. Still gripping his gun tightly, the man squirmed and shifted until he’d made enough room to bend his right arm. Zane wanted to punch him and knock him out, but he didn’t dare release his grip on the guy’s shoulder or his gun hand. With just a couple inches of room for movement, the jerk could easily kill the woman he’d attacked. Or he could shift the angle of the gun a little and shoot Zane instead.

Struggling to hold the bigger, heavier guy down, Zane managed to draw in a deep breath of air. Slightly more energized, he pressed harder on the guy’s left shoulder and grunted as he tightened his right hand, determined to wrestle the gun from the man’s grip. This time his fingers touched metal and then he felt the textured surface of the gun’s handle beneath the heel of his hand. He just about had it.

The guy jerked his arm and flung the gun. It slid until coming to a rest precariously balanced on the edge of the boardwalk, with part of the barrel hovering over the water.

The deep boom of a shotgun blast blew past him, followed by the sound of buckshot ripping through the boardwalk beside Zane and the gunman.

“Get up!” The guy with the shotgun commanded. He ratcheted another cartridge into the shotgun’s chamber.

Zane heard the woman crying. She was also praying. He couldn’t make out every word, but it sounded as if she was praying for someone other than herself.

Emergency sirens wailed from a couple of blocks away. Then they went silent. Which meant they were probably cop cars and they’d just rolled into the parking lot.

“I said, get up!”

Cautiously, Zane got to his feet. His thoughts were racing. He might not be able to prevent himself from getting shot, but he could probably do something to keep the woman alive and make sure these guys got caught.

“Hurry up!” shotgun guy barked. “Turn around and let me see your hands.”

Zane complied.

Shotgun guy was short and stocky. He wore a baseball cap and dark glasses. He’d come halfway down the stairway and stopped. Now he continued down the stairs and took a couple of steps closer to Zane.

Behind him, Zane heard the first gunman get to his feet.

Zane slowly took a step back, then turned his head slightly so he could see what the original attacker was doing.

“Take care of her and let’s go.” Shotgun guy said to his accomplice, still keeping his weapon pointed at Zane.

Zane figured once they killed the woman they’d kill him, too. They weren’t going to leave a witness behind.

The woman had stopped crying. From the corner of his eye he could see her getting to her feet, but he didn’t dare turn his head far enough to get a good look at her. Not with that shotgun trained on him.

The boardwalk planks behind Zane squeaked with the sound of sudden movement. The original gunman swore, and Zane glanced over his shoulder to see the woman scrambling to get the handgun where it lay on the edge of the boardwalk.

The gunman shoved her aside and frantically reached for it, knocking it off the boardwalk. He immediately dropped down so he was lying on his belly and lunged his upper body into the lake. He brought the handgun out, its barrel dripping water. Cursing again, he rolled to his side, rose up on his elbow, pointed the gun at the woman, who appeared to be searching for something to hide behind, and fired.

Zane’s heart jumped up into his throat. Then his mind registered the dull snapping sound of the weapon. The wet gun had misfired.

Zane’s feeling of relief was short-lived. Now his attention was back on shotgun guy. Thus far, he had held off on firing—probably to keep from shooting his partner. Now that the partner was a few feet away and he had a clear shot at Zane, he had no reason to hesitate. Zane quickly looked around for something he could use to defend himself.

One of the table-and-chair sets that were scattered around the boardwalk was within reach. He grabbed the back of a bistro chair with one hand while using the other hand to knock aside the shotgun barrel that was pointed at him. The shotgun broke loose from the man’s grip and clattered a couple of feet across the boardwalk.

Zane whirled around and swung the heavy bistro chair. He managed to hit the first gunman who was just now getting to his feet. The blow knocked him flat on his back.

Where was the woman? Zane figured he had only a few seconds before shotgun guy recovered his weapon and started shooting.

A quick glance showed him the woman was moving toward the edge of the boardwalk, trying to get as far away from danger as she could. “Jump!” he yelled, backing toward her.

He didn’t hear a splash. Why was she hesitating?

“There’s no other option,” he snapped. “Get in the water. Now!”

Seconds later he heard her hit the water.

Time was running out.

He spun and flung the bistro chair at shotgun guy who’d just recovered his weapon.

Then Zane turned and ran.

He reached the edge of the boardwalk and leapt off, the boom of a shotgun blast ringing in his ears as he hit the surface of the lake.

The frigid water was shocking as he plunged downward. He opened his eyes underwater, where everything looked dark blue and blurry. Then he kicked his feet and started upward, back toward the light.

He broke through the surface and saw the boardwalk a few feet away. He quickly looked for the two gunmen, expecting shotgun guy to open fire on him. They were nowhere in sight. Lord, please help the cops catch them.

He turned and saw the woman bobbing on the surface, treading water several yards away from the boardwalk. With the water this cold, he wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t been able to swim any farther. He swam over to her. His muscles were already knotting up from the cold water, so the going was slow.

“Hey, are you all right?” he called out when he reached her.

The only response he heard was the sound of her teeth chattering.

Dark blonde hair was plastered over her face. She reached up to move it aside, and he found himself looking into the dark brown eyes of Caroline Marsh.

A voice called out to them from the boardwalk, but Zane didn’t understand a word the man was saying. He just stared at his former fiancée while she stared back.

For the span of a couple of heartbeats it felt like no time had passed since he’d last seen her.

How long had it been?

Eight years. More than enough time for Zane to think of all the things he might say to her if they ever crossed paths again. All of them were some form of a heartfelt apology. Now here she was and he could barely put together a sentence. Could barely even breathe.

“Are you hurt?” he managed to ask again.

“I-I’m all right, Zane,” she stammered, her teeth still chattering.

She lifted her hands out of the water to tuck her hair behind her ears. “Th-thank you for rescuing me. But you don’t need to stay beside me. Go ahead and swim back to the boardwalk. I can take care of myself.”

Despite the horrifying events she’d just been through, she lifted her chin out of the water and managed a weak version of her signature spirited smile.

It would have hurt less if she’d shot him.

Tender memories and old regrets ripped through Zane’s heart. But he didn’t have time to dwell on them now. The grim reality was that two determined gunmen had just tried to kill her.

What had Caroline gotten herself into?

TWO

Zane stared at Caroline as if he expected some further, bigger reaction from her.

She wasn’t about to give it to him.

He could forget about her asking why he’d left town and dropped all contact when they were engaged to be married. Where he’d been. How long he’d been back in the town of Cobalt. The answers didn’t matter. After eight years of wondering, she simply didn’t care anymore.

Okay, that was a lie. But he didn’t have to know she still thought about him sometimes. Not as often as she used to when he first left. Just every now and then. And each time she’d come back to Cobalt for a visit, until she’d moved back a month ago.

She was disappointed to notice that even treading water in soaking wet street clothes, the man looked good. That was something else he didn’t need to know. He was more muscular than when she’d last seen him. But he had been barely twenty years old back then. His jaw and neck were thicker now. So was his chest. She couldn’t help noticing that, thanks to the long-sleeved gray cowboy shirt now clinging to it.

Even during his darkest days, when he was a young criminal going nowhere just like his dad, he’d dressed like a cowboy. His dad had been a hired hand on the horse ranch where the two of them had lived. Zane had always loved horses. He was good with them. She doubted that had changed—but then, what did she know? Back in the day, she’d thought he’d never leave her. She’d been wrong about that, so maybe she never knew him at all.

“I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself,” he finally said, after the apparent shock of seeing her wore off. “But I’d still like to help you.”

He looked at the office complex and surrounding boardwalk, then back at her. It struck her that assuming they were safe in the lake might be a mistake. She couldn’t see the shooters anymore, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t see her. The man with the shotgun could still fire at them. And what if the other man had a backup weapon, one that wasn’t waterlogged?

“A-all right.” Her legs were so cold she couldn’t feel them anymore. But things could have turned out far worse.

Zane swam closer to her. Despite her best efforts to fight it, a tiny flare of warmth sparked in her heart. This was the chivalrous Zane she’d fallen so deeply in love with.

But he was also the man who’d left town when he could have stayed to fight. For himself. For the future the two of them had planned together.

“Let’s go,” he said.

He swam toward the boardwalk. Caroline tried to follow, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. Her brain commanded her chilled arms and legs to move, but they refused to obey. Her body felt weighted down, pulling her toward the bottom of the lake.

Her chin and mouth dipped into the water and the searing panic she’d fought off while on the boardwalk overtook her again in an instant. She was going to drown. Those gunmen were going to win after all. Dylan would end up in the care of a mother who wanted him now only because he came with an inheritance.

Caroline sank farther into the lake before managing to kick her uncooperative legs enough to push her face out of the water a little bit. “N-no!” She forced all her strength into the word, but it came out as a whisper. Zane must have heard it, though. He turned around and swam back to her.

“D-Dylan,” she managed to chatter when he got closer. “My mom.” She’d just had a horrifying thought. What if the bad guys had gotten away and were headed to the house?

“We’ll take care of them.” Zane swam behind her, wrapped his left arm across the front of her shoulders and pulled her close so that her back was pressed against his muscled chest. “Right now we’ve got to take care of you,” he said, his breath warm against her ear. “I’ve got you.”

No, he did not. She wouldn’t be fooled again. He did not have a strong hold on her, he was not looking out for her and he was not a man she could depend on. She’d trusted him for all those things before and he’d let her down.

But there was no way she could get out of this freezing cold water on her own. Right now she had to rely on him. She had no choice.

A sob caught in her throat as she again imagined her mom and Dylan in danger. With her brother gone, the responsibility to take care of what was left of the family rested on her shoulders. What if she’d already failed?

As they moved through the water Caroline caught a glimpse of flashing blue-and-red lights in the office complex parking lot. A paramedic and an emergency medical technician stood alongside a cop on the edge of the boardwalk close to the water. Each of the medical responders was stepping into a bright orange cold-water rescue suit. Seconds later, she heard a couple of splashes. She and Zane were nearly to the boardwalk now, so the medical responders quickly reached them.

When the rescuers tried to tug the two of them apart, Zane held her tightly, as if he were reluctant to let her go. She tilted her face upward to look at him. He turned toward her until his slightly beard-roughened chin pressed against her temple. She felt herself drifting back toward the memory of an old familiar feeling.

And then a cold wavelet smacked her in the face and snapped her out of it.

Zane didn’t just break her heart. He broke the heart of everyone in her family who had also loved him.

The EMT trying to rescue Caroline pulled on her arm a little harder, said something to Zane and Zane finally let her go.

She was hoisted up onto the boardwalk, wrapped in blankets and taken to an accommodating insurance broker’s office just a few feet away. The EMT explained that, after witnessing what had happened to Caroline and Zane, the owner had sent her employees home for the day and offered emergency personnel use of her office.

Caroline sat in a chair near a heating vent while the paramedic took her vital signs. Zane walked in a few seconds later and dropped down into a chair across from her. He locked eyes with her, his mouth set in a worried frown.

“Caroline, can you tell me what happened?” Sergeant Matt Barrow of the Cobalt Police Department—who’d joined the force just before Caroline’s father was killed in the line of duty—stepped in front of her, blocking her view of Zane.

“Yes, but first—my mom and Dylan,” she said forcefully, finally loosening her jaw enough to speak clearly. She was still shivering, but not as violently. “You need to make sure my mom and nephew are safe.”

“I thought of them the second I recognized you out there in the lake. There’s an officer on the phone with your mom right now. She’s going to keep talking to her until she gets to the house and sees for herself that your mom and nephew are okay.”

Caroline released a deep sigh and finally allowed herself to feel a hint of relief.

Matt grabbed an office chair, rolled it close to her and then sat down on it. Now she could see Zane again. He was keeping an eye on her while the EMT took his vitals. Zane raised his eyebrows slightly, his expression matching her own curiosity. Why was he here? How long had he been back in town? He must have the same questions about her.

“Tell me everything that happened,” Matt said.

Caroline turned her attention back to him and she described everything she could recall about the attack. “Did you catch either of them?” she asked when she was finished.

He rubbed his hand over his bristly black hair. “Not yet.”

“What’s this?” the paramedic asked. Now that he’d gotten her warmed up and determined her vital signs were okay, he’d started to check for injuries. He’d pulled back the blanket from the area around her shoulder and seen the rip in her jacket and blouse and the surrounding patch of blood on the fabric.

“I think I got nicked by a bullet.”

The paramedic reached into his supply bag for scissors, cut the clothes around her shoulder and got busy cleaning the wound. She could feel him working, but lingering numbness from the cold water blunted the pain.

“Did either of the men say anything that would tell you the motive for the attack?” Matt asked.

She shook her head.

“Well, it didn’t involve robbery. We found your purse by the bench where you sat on the upper level. Your wallet and phone were still in it.”

“The attack might be connected to the murder of her brother,” Zane said.

Matt glanced at Zane, then turned back to Caroline.

“I realize that’s the obvious assumption,” Caroline said quietly. “But I don’t know for sure.” Although her brother had been murdered in Seattle, the Cobalt PD had taken an active interest in the case, partly because Owen was a Cobalt resident. But also many of the officers on the force still remembered his father, Sergeant Henry Marsh. They still treated Caroline like family down at the police department even though her father had been killed seven years ago. And they were anxious to do everything they could to help find Owen’s killer.

“I’m so sorry about Owen,” Zane said, his voice low and husky with emotion.

Caroline didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Not right now. She’d had enough emotional meltdowns for the time being.

Matt glanced at Zane again and then turned back to her with one eyebrow raised and his lips pursed together. “You two know each other?”

“We used to,” Caroline answered, her voice as clipped as she could make it, hoping that Matt would drop this line of questioning.

“Huh.” He nodded slightly, seeming to get the hint. “Can you think of anybody else who would want to come after you for any reason?” Matt asked. “You have any kind of feud going on? Do you owe anybody money? Anything like that?”

“No.”

The paramedic told her the bullet had torn off a layer of skin and underlying tissue, but that the bone beneath it seemed sound. He wanted her to go to the hospital to get X-rays just to be sure. When she told him she’d knocked her head against the boardwalk and felt strangely sleepy for a minute or two, he definitely wanted her to go and get a thorough check.

Zane stood. “I’ll make the trip to the hospital with you. If the ER doctor releases you, I’ll see you home.”

Oh no, he would not.

“Can you walk okay?” Matt asked. “If you feel up to it, I’d like to get you in a patrol car and away from here as soon as possible. Those men who tried to kill you could be long gone. But they could also be repositioning themselves nearby to take another shot as soon as they can. From what you’ve described, they sound like hired professionals. If they don’t kill you they don’t get paid. They’re not going to give up easily.”

While Matt was talking to Caroline, another uniformed officer walked in carrying a couple of blue nylon gym bags. He tossed one of the bags to Zane. “Temperature’s dropping fast. You shouldn’t be out walking around in wet clothes. I brought you a pair of jeans and a shirt from your locker at the station.” Then the officer walked over to Caroline and handed her the second bag. “Some of the women at the station donated clothes for you, too.”

What was going on here?

“Wait a minute,” Caroline said as Zane zipped open the bag and started pulling out clothes. “You have a locker at the police station?”

He nodded. “I do.”

“You can’t be a cop,” she said, confused.

“It’s not my full-time job. I’ve got other commitments. But I am a reserve officer. Mostly called out for search and rescue.”

Caroline held up her hand for him to stop talking. The conversation was moving way too fast and there were too many gaps in the information she was getting. She needed a second to make sense of it all. “Are you saying you’ve been back in town for a while?”

“About a year.”

“A year?” Caroline and her mom had moved back to town a month ago. And nobody had thought to mention that Zane Coleman was back in Cobalt?

Matt caught her attention and gestured at her to hurry up and open the gym bag.

Trying to collect her thoughts, she slowly pulled out a gray sweatshirt and gray sweatpants. Then she looked back at Zane. “Where have you been all these years?”

He drew in a breath and blew it out. “That’s a long story.”

“We don’t have time to listen to it right now,” Matt interjected. “Come on. You two need to hurry up and get dressed so we can get Caroline out of here.”

* * *

The most important thing at the moment was getting Caroline safely out of the office complex and to the hospital.

Zane kept his thoughts focused on that point as he finished changing into dry clothes in one of the insurance broker’s inner offices.

But concentrating was a challenge when his mind kept tripping over the fact that Caroline had moved back to town. He’d had no idea.

Six weeks ago he’d seen her sitting in a pew at Owen’s funeral while he had stood in the back of the church. His tears had flowed freely at the memory of the flannel-wearing, granola-chomping, nature-loving kid who had followed him around like he was an honorary big brother back when Zane and Caroline started dating.

Zane had wanted to offer his condolences like the other mourners after the graveside service, but showing up unexpectedly at that time and place felt wrong. He couldn’t have done that to Caroline and her mom. Mrs. Marsh, once an energetic and outdoorsy woman, had looked shockingly thin and frail. The amount of time from Owen’s murder to the funeral hadn’t been enough for her to lose that much weight. Something else had to have been going on.

He didn’t spend much time in the actual town of Cobalt these days. Instead he spent the majority of his time helping to rebuild the old horse ranch owned by his aunt and uncle. He probably wouldn’t have heard about her return to Cobalt even if he came to town more often. Zane made it a habit to politely walk away from gossip. He had spent too much time on the receiving end of thoughtless comments as a kid, hearing the biting remarks of adults who didn’t bother to lower their voice. He had no desire to do that to anybody else.

When he was a kid, his dad worked horses by day and he was good at it. But he was angry at the world after the death of Zane’s mother and when he came home at night, he used drugs to feel better. Then he began to sell them. After that, it was a short step to dabbling in other criminal enterprises. Everybody had an opinion about Lee Coleman, and as a kid, Zane got tired of hearing about it. Everyone automatically assumed the worst of him—and for a while he’d been bitter and angry enough to live down to their expectations.

God had clearly been looking out for Zane the day Sergeant Henry Marsh found him selling cans of beer to fellow high school kids at three times their original cost. Zane also happened to have a little bit of weed he’d stolen from his dad stuffed into his shirt pocket. Sergeant Henry had cuffed him and tossed him in the back of his patrol car, and Zane had immediately turned on the charm. He’d learned to flip it on like a light switch as a survival mechanism to get his unstable dad to calm down. It was a useful talent and nearly every adult fell for it. Sergeant Marsh never did.

Neither did his daughter.

Zane stepped back into the office lobby. Caroline had already changed clothes and she had her phone up to her ear. It sounded like she was talking to her mom. Lauren Marsh had always been friendly and kind to Zane. Had even baked a cake and made a big deal about his birthdays.

But that feeling of him being part of their family belonged to the past. And Zane had made himself a promise he would only live life moving forward. Indulging in regret or trying to figure out a way to change things that could never be changed was a waste of time. It didn’t help him or anyone else.

He would do everything he could to keep Caroline safe because he owed it to her. And it was something he could do to honor the memories of Sergeant Henry and Owen. But that was it. There was no going back and undoing the mistakes he’d made.

“Who knew you were coming out to your lawyer’s office today?” Matt asked Caroline as soon as she disconnected her call.

She thought for a moment. “I couldn’t tell you exactly. Probably a lot of people. It wasn’t a secret. I’ve been over here fairly often since...since Owen died.”

“Settling your brother’s estate?”

She nodded. “And getting everything set up for guardianship of my nephew.”

“Any fight over inheritance? Bad feelings? Anything like that?”

Caroline sighed. “Owen’s ex-wife, Michelle, is disappointed that she didn’t get anything from Owen’s estate. I’ve only talked to her twice, but she’s got the impression Owen’s business, Wilderness Photo Adventures, is raking in a lot of cash. I told her she’s mistaken. There really hasn’t been any money flowing in yet. Owen was just getting his company started.” Her chin began to tremble and she hurriedly wiped away the tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.

Zane felt his guts twist at the sight of her in so much pain and he took a steadying breath. He wanted to put an arm around her and comfort her, but that was not his place. It hadn’t been for a long time.

“I’m sorry, it’s kind of hard to think right now.” She exhaled a ragged sigh. “Maybe there’s something I should have noticed, but didn’t.”

Matt’s phone rang, and he answered it, turning aside.

Caroline faced Zane. “Thank you for helping me. I mean that sincerely. But I don’t want you going with me to the hospital. And I don’t want to talk to you anywhere else. I have enough drama going on in my life right now.”

She had every right to dismiss him. But she also needed to be protected. “I’d like to do what I can to help keep you and your family safe.”

She sighed and got her quivering chin under control. “You said you do search and rescue work. Go search for those men who tried to kill us.”

As soon as he got the call, he’d be on it. But there was no way he was going to rush in on his own and risk messing up an investigation. “When the police department needs me, they’ll call. And I’ll do everything I can to help. Right now I’m more concerned with looking out for you.”

“No, thank you.”

“We found that white van you mentioned,” said Matt, disconnecting his phone and turning to them. “Abandoned. It was reported stolen earlier this afternoon.” He turned to Zane. “Let’s get rolling. I’ll finish taking your statement while we’re at the hospital.”

Caroline cut Zane a sideways glance. She might not want him to come along, but the cop in charge did. And that was good enough for him.

They stepped up to the door and Matt’s phone chimed. He opened up a text, hesitated and then held out the phone so Caroline and Zane could see a picture. “They found this in the van.” It was a crumpled computer-printed photo of Caroline. “That tells me these guys didn’t know you personally. And they didn’t act on some bizarre random impulse. This was a contract hit.”

Which meant Matt’s earlier cautious assumption was right. The gunmen were professionals who had been hired to kill Caroline. They would try again.

THREE

It was well past dark when Caroline stepped out of Cobalt Community Hospital into the crisp, cool air.

The top of her left arm and shoulder were numb thanks to the injection a nurse had given her prior to receiving a half dozen stitches. The doctor confirmed no bones were broken and that, in spite of knocking her head on the boardwalk, her skull and everything inside of it checked out okay.

She could have been admitted overnight for observation, but she didn’t want to stay any longer than she had to. She was anxious to get back to the house. Even though she’d spoken to both her mom and Dylan on the phone, she still wanted to see for herself that they were okay.

Zane walked beside her, constantly sweeping his gaze across their surroundings. Matt walked ahead, his holster unbuckled and his hand resting on his service revolver.

“Any updates on the search for those creeps who tried to kill us?” She directed her question to Matt. It had been a couple of hours since she last talked to him or to Zane. She had given her statement to a detective, and a female officer she’d never met before had guarded the examining room while she was getting checked out by the doctor.

“Forensics is still going over the van,” Matt answered without turning around. “We’ve got officers canvassing the neighborhood where it was originally stolen as well as the area where it was ditched. And we’re interviewing witnesses, taking descriptions and having people look at mug shots. We’ll have you take a look at them after you’ve gotten some rest.”

Matt’s patrol car was at the end of a short walkway outside a secondary entrance at the back of the hospital. The plan was to keep her departure as low-key as possible. A second patrol car idled behind Matt’s, with two officers standing outside the vehicles, keeping an eye on the few cars driving by on the narrow street.

Cobalt was a small mountain town that had experienced a population explosion after being featured in several outdoor living online magazines and television shows over the last few years. The high-end Cobalt Resort had gone up on the edge of the lake, its owners hoping to capitalize on people’s love of pristine nature combined with luxury accommodations.

Staffing the resort had significantly added to the town’s population above and beyond the tourists, which led to far too many people for the authorities to keep in check. City services were struggling to keep up and the police department was stretched thin. They had enough problems on their hands without giving Caroline a personal escort and the assurance of round-the-clock armed babysitters for at least the next twenty-four hours.

“I think Matt can probably get me home safely,” Caroline said to Zane as they reached the end of the walkway. “You might as well head on home. And thank you, again.”

He looked down at the hand she’d extended to him and then up into her eyes. He lifted an eyebrow. “You want to shake hands and say good-bye?”

“You saved my life today.” Her voice wavered a little and she cleared her throat. “You don’t need to do anything else.”

On the ride from the office complex to the hospital she’d formed a long mental list of questions for him. But she’d held back on asking any of them. It didn’t seem like the right time or place. Then, while she was in the hospital’s treatment room, she’d thought about how much she truly deserved answers. And apologies. It was just a step beyond that to deciding that no apology would ever be sufficient; no explanation would make up for the pain he had caused her. She’d focused her energy on building up her anger for Zane because that was more tolerable than facing the dark, twisting fear for herself and her family that threatened to overwhelm her.

Anger felt less threatening right now. And she had a right to be angry. Her entire family had welcomed him into the fold. They all had loved him. Or thought they did. Obviously he hadn’t been the person they had believed he was. After all, he had decided to leave town rather than stay and face his criminal father. He could have assisted the Cobalt police department, but he had chosen not to. Which made it especially strange that he was employed by them as a reserve officer now.

She’d worked herself into a pretty good snit while getting her shoulder patched up, telling herself that he probably wouldn’t even be there in the waiting room when the doctor was finished. That he would have abandoned her again. But there he was. And at the sight of him she felt something like an arrow pierce her being.

She wasn’t happy to see him. She couldn’t be. She decided she was annoyed that he hadn’t left her side like she’d asked when they’d departed the office complex. Yes, he saved her life and she was truly grateful. But his staying around made everything more miserable and complicated. It stirred up memories and feelings she wanted to keep neatly tucked away. She didn’t want to yell at him or argue with him. She just wanted to be done with him—the way she thought she had been for all those years.

It was on the tip of her tongue to confirm that she really did want him to go away as they stood at the end of the walkway. But then she thought of something she’d always heard but truly learned only after her father’s death. She’d been reminded of the same lesson again after Owen’s passing—life is short. And fragile. We can’t afford to hold on to our grudges as long as we’d like to. The time to forgive is now.

She took a deep breath, blew it out and felt her body relax just a little. Sure, she may not be ready to forgive quite yet, but she could at least be polite and give him an explanation.

“Look, my mom’s already upset,” she said in a calmer tone. “She doesn’t need the shock of seeing you right now after all these years. It’ll just make things worse.”

“What happened with your mom?” Zane asked gently. “Has she been ill?”

Caroline hesitated. It wasn’t something she wanted to talk about right now.

“I’ll stay outside of the house,” he quickly added. “I’ll make sure your mom doesn’t see me.” He cleared his throat. “Please let me help you. It’s something I can do for Owen.”

She felt a pang in her heart. “He loved you like a brother.”

“I felt the same way.” Zane rubbed his chin. “We crossed paths and I spoke to him a couple of times after I came back to Cobalt.”

Caroline felt her jaw slacken and for a few seconds she was speechless. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.” She shook her head. Why would Owen keep that from her?

“It was only twice. And the first conversation went pretty rough.” A half smile flashed across his face. “Owen wasn’t a kid anymore. And he was very protective of you. Didn’t want to tell me where you were. Told me he would let you know he saw me and find out if you wanted to talk to me before he’d share a word about you. But I think he wanted to get a handle on me first before letting you know.”

Her little brother had thought he needed to take care of her? Ridiculous.

And touching. Owen had been carrying more of a burden on his shoulders than she’d realized. Weathering a painful divorce after being abandoned by his wife. Summoning all the emotion and patience and energy it took to raise a small boy while starting his own business. And maybe getting dragged into something else that had gotten him killed.

Zane was watching her intently, waiting for her response.

“I guess it would be all right if you came along on this one ride out to the house,” she said. “Just stay out of view of my mom and my nephew. And afterward you stay away from all of us.”

“If that’s what you want.”

They reached Matt’s patrol car. He had Caroline sit in the back seat with Zane beside her. One of the officers that had been watching the street slipped into the front passenger seat. He introduced himself as Shane, but didn’t say anything more.

A shiver passed through Caroline as they pulled away from the hospital. The life she’d carefully built in California had started unraveling the moment she’d heard Owen was murdered. Now someone was trying to kill her. She also had her mom and nephew relying on her and no idea what to do next.

She glanced out the window at the disappearing lights of town as they followed the curving road along the lake. The Cobalt Resort shone like a golden beacon and reflected on the rippling surface of the dark water. After a couple of miles the road became a highway and turned away into the forest. Caroline blew out a breath. Please, Lord, keep Dylan and Mom safe. And help me know what to do.

* * *

Zane had had plenty of experience with night patrols in enemy territory. At least this transport of Caroline along an Idaho highway wasn’t being conducted on foot. And the chances of coming across an improvised explosive device were pretty slim.

On the other hand, they had little protection. No helmets. No body armor. No air support to fall back on.

Yeah, he was overthinking things. He knew it. It was a post-combat survival instinct that would likely never go away. That’s what the therapist told him when he’d sought help six months after returning from his second tour in Afghanistan, after he’d found himself unable to drive past a broken-down car by the side of the road or anything else that looked like a potential trap. Anything and everything out of the ordinary made him wary.

He’d had a lot to talk about that first year after he’d returned to civilian life, staying with friends near the base where he’d been stationed in North Carolina. Most of it was related to combat, but some of it went back to things that had happened before he’d even enlisted.

The headlights of their patrol car cut through the darkness and shone on the curving road ahead. Cobalt was in mountain country, barely seventy miles south of the Canadian border. The deep mountain lake, for which the town was named, was surrounded by heavily forested jagged mountain peaks.

Owen’s house was located in a small community south of the lake. They were modest homes, mostly occupied by people who worked in the Cobalt Resort, downtown restaurants or the local ski resort.

Zane kept his gaze sweeping across the surrounding terrain as he’d been trained. Not that he could see much looking out into the darkness. The police radio crackled with regular transmissions. Routine stuff, mostly about traffic stops. So far he’d heard little related to the search for the men who’d attacked him and Caroline. But he also knew any substantial information would likely be transmitted by cell phone so anyone with a scanner couldn’t listen in.

Matt asked Shane a question and they started talking.

“So, where have you been all this time?” Caroline asked quietly from beside him.

Zane wasn’t looking to keep secrets. Not anymore. And Caroline deserved answers.

“I was in Texas for a little while. A couple of other places, and then Afghanistan.”

“So were you in military? A private contractor?”

“Army.”

“It makes sense now,” she said thoughtfully. “That explains how you got the skills to help in the police reserves.” She was studying his face. He could see her in the light from the instrument panel in the front seat and, for a couple of seconds, from the bright beams of a passing car. “It explains why you look so different, too,” she added.

“The passage of time will do that.” He felt self-conscious, wondering exactly what kind of changes she saw.

“That isn’t the only thing that changes a person.”

She was right.

“When you said we needed time apart, that you were going to leave town for a while, everybody thought you’d just be gone for a few weeks. Maybe a couple of months. Why didn’t you tell us that you were leaving to join the military? That you were going to be gone a long time?” She glanced at the two officers up front who were still carrying on their conversation. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The catch in her voice made the center of his chest ache. At the time he’d had no doubt she’d get over him after he left. That he wasn’t anybody special. But he’d also known she had a kind heart and might worry about him for a little while. If he’d told her what he was planning at the time, she might have tried to convince him not to go. And he would have been very tempted to listen to her.

Sitting in a patrol car with a couple of cops wasn’t exactly the place where he wanted to talk to her about the past, but what choice did he have? She’d said this ride to the house was the only time he’d have with her. If he was going to wrap up any unanswered questions for her, he had to do it now. And at least for the moment, Matt and Shane were focused on their own conversation.

“I’m sure you remember the increase in drug crime about the time I left,” he said. “Suppliers fighting over territory.”

“Remember it?” She made a scoffing sound. “My dad got killed in the middle of it.”

Zane didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Didn’t trust himself to talk about the man who’d been like a real father to him without breaking down. Caroline didn’t need that right now. She needed someone strong she could lean on.

“Did you know he’d been shot?” Caroline asked.

“Yes.” Zane had been through basic training and shipped overseas by the time he’d heard—word had taken a while to reach him. And he hadn’t known how to react once he’d heard. There was a lot going on in his life at the time. The death of Sergeant Henry Marsh had been one very significant addition to a long list of emotional events he couldn’t deal with just then. He’d unpacked the pain of that loss a few years later, when his life had threatened to get out of control and he’d needed to face everything he’d been avoiding for so long. That was when he’d finally seen a therapist.

“Why didn’t you call us?” she asked. Her voice was cold and hard. “Send a card? Something? Did you know my mom had a heart attack shortly after it happened, leaving serious damage? That’s why Owen set up his estate with a request that I take care of Dylan instead of Mom.” Caroline shook her head. “She would have been the logical choice. She knows what she’s doing. But she doesn’t have the strength to take care of him full time until he’s an adult.”

So that was why Mrs. Marsh had looked so frail at Owen’s funeral.

“I’m sorry about your mom. And I’m sorry I didn’t call after your dad... I guess I just thought calling after leaving the way I did would make things about me at a time when they needed to be about your family.” One more thing he hadn’t handled well. But not because he hadn’t cared. Quite the opposite.

“A few days before I left, my dad showed up at my apartment in the middle of the night,” Zane said. “He told me things were changing around Cobalt and that some new business associates were going to make him rich. But they weren’t interested in working with a guy whose son was involved with a cop’s family. Told me it would be best for everyone if I left town.”

The conversation had gotten loud and ugly. Lee Coleman had been using too much of the stuff he was selling, and as a result he’d lost his job at the horse ranch where he’d worked and lived for years. The drugs made him paranoid and it had been clear he was afraid Zane would sell him out to the police.

“When he told me bad things would happen to you, your family, anyone I cared about if I didn’t get out of town, I knew I had to go. I didn’t start thinking about the military until a couple of weeks after I left. I was afraid if I called to tell you, once I heard your voice I’d change my mind and come back. And that would put you right back into danger again.”

He rubbed his hand over his face. This was old history. And it would be good to get it wrapped up so he could move on. Returning to Cobalt wasn’t about trying to relive the past. It was about pursuing his dream of working with horses. He had the opportunity to do that here. Forget trying to recapture things that he’d lost or ruined. Indulging in wishful thinking like that had made his life miserable for far too long.

“So you left when you could have stayed and helped send your dad to prison?” Caroline prompted. The anger was gone from her tone. Now she sounded aloof. Like she really didn’t want anything else to do with him.

“The local cops had started forming a task force with state and federal agencies around the time I left. I met with a couple of detectives and told them everything I knew. They asked that I not tell anyone about that meeting in order to keep my dad from finding out and retaliating.”

His dad hadn’t been involved in the Marsh shooting. But he did get busted for selling drugs and served five years in prison down in Boise. While Zane hadn’t been able to protect Sergeant Henry, at least leaving town had kept Caroline and the rest of the family safe.

A disquieting thought flickered in Zane’s mind. Could his father have had something to do with today’s attack? Zane hadn’t heard from him in years. The odds were good that he was back in Cobalt. Other than the time spent in prison, he’d never lived anywhere else.

Caroline was quiet for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell my dad what was happening? Why didn’t you stay here and let us stand by you?”

Why? Because his own dad had warned him against doing just that and had told him the same thing he always did. That Zane was his son and just like him. That the Marsh family were a completely different kind of people. Nice. Law-abiding. Churchgoing. That Zane might be able to fool them into accepting him in the short term, but in the long run they’d see what he really was. That he wasn’t worth the trouble. It was Zane’s deepest fear: he was unworthy of love. And his drug-addled dad spoke right to it.

It had taken several more years in his faith walk for Zane to be able to believe he had value simply as a child of God. Though he still had moments—sometimes whole days—when he struggled to believe that.

Caroline watched him closely, still waiting for a response.

He had been twenty years old when he’d left town, desperate to protect the young woman he loved. Of course if the same thing happened now, he would make very different decisions. Zane drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “I guess I just figured you and your family didn’t need the headache.”

Caroline stared at him for what felt like a very long time and then slowly shook her head. An expression of pained disappointment seemed to darken her eyes. “After everything my parents did for you? After everything you and I talked about and the life we planned together? I can’t believe that.”

There was nothing more for Zane to say.

Her response was a good reminder of why things would never have worked out between the two of them. Even when she tried, she couldn’t understand him. They’d had such different starts in life. Been brought up so differently. And there was no overcoming that.

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