Someone wanted her dead

The questions continued. The police roamed through her house, peering into corners. She didn’t want them here. She wanted to be left alone.

Liam slipped his arm around her waist. “That’s enough,” he told the cops. “I’m taking her upstairs to bed.”

Over their objections, he whisked her up the staircase and into her bedroom where he closed the door.

Crossing the room, she turned on the bedside lamp. Compared to downstairs, it was quiet here—creating the impression of a peaceful, safe haven. But it was only an illusion, a pipe dream. “I won’t be able to sleep.”

“Have you got a suitcase?”

“Of course.”

“Throw some clothes in it. We’re getting out of here.”

Rocky Mountain Manhunt
Cassie Miles

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Here’s to the fabulous Rosemary Heiser, my mom.

And, as always, for Rick.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Though Cassie Miles is now a city creature living in Denver, she once lived in a small log cabin in the Rockies with no television or running water. It was quite the starter home and the greatest place in the world to get away and read. She’s still reading, of course. But it’s hard to imagine those long-ago days of chopping wood, knee-deep snow and hauling water up the hill from the creek.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Kate Carradine—Hiding out in the mountains for twenty-eight days, she can’t even remember her own name. Her only certainty is that somebody wants her dead.

Liam MacKenzie—He rescued Kate and will protect her. Though he loves her as a natural woman, the heiress side of her personality ticks him off.

Wayne Silverman—The family attorney disappeared in the mountains with Kate. Is he a victim, a criminal or both?

Elizabeth Carradine—Kate’s mother is overwhelmed by the responsibilities of the family wealth and business. Peter Rowe—Kate’s stepfather enjoys a life of ease and comfort. What crimes would he commit to keep his lifestyle?

Tom Rowe—Kate’s stepbrother is an expert marksman. As a glorified “gofer,” he resents the Carradines and wants to get back at them.

Jonathan Proctor—Though divorced from Kate, he maintains his position as CEO of the family business. His life would be easier with Kate out of the way.

Mickey Wheaton—The ambitious reporter knows a lot about Kate and the family business. Perhaps, too much.

Adam Briggs—The head of Colorado Crime Consultants uses his resources to help Kate and Liam, but he’s frustrated when they step outside the law.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Prologue

A raindrop splattered on her forehead. Another on her cheek. Her eyelids pried open, and she stared into a gray, stormy sky blanketed with clouds.

Lying flat on her back in a sloping field, her gaze lowered slowly. She saw distant peaks, a jagged cliff side and the edge of a dense, old-growth forest. She heard the rush of wind. Where am I?

Though she had never been here before, the terrain was familiar. Her fingers tightened on a clump of sweetgrass, and she smelled wild mint. The trees were mostly ponderosa pine, but there was also a stand of aspen with lean white trunks and the round green leaves of early summer. She knew that she was somewhere in the Rockies, probably in Colorado. But why am I outdoors? How did I get here?

Her brain floated—adrift in the hazy netherworld between sleep and wakefulness. Though she tried to think, she couldn’t draw upon memory. The slate had been wiped clean.

And yet, she could identify the plants. Sweetgrass. Burdock. Snakeroot. Goldenrod. She recognized the charred stench that rose from her clothing; it smelled like an old campfire.

Instinct drove her to sit up. When she tried to stand, her body screamed in agony, and she sank back to the earth. Her legs ached from running, endless running.

Every muscle throbbed, but the pain was more intense on her left arm. She peeled off her parka to take a closer look. The upper sleeve of her blue silk blouse was shredded. Dried blood stained the fabric and there was a fresh red ooze. She’d been wounded.

Reaching up, she touched the back of her skull and found evidence of another injury. Blood matted her long, thick, blond hair. Something terrible had happened to her.

Her gaze swept the meadow. Amid the faraway line of conifers, she caught a glimpse of movement, and she focused intently. The barrel of a rifle aimed directly at her heart. They were coming for her! The hunters were coming.

A wave of terror surged in her chest, and she gasped. Her throat tightened. She was drowning in her own fear—an urgent panic that flooded every cell of her body. She had to escape. To run. To hide.

Rolling thunder echoed through the mountain cliffs and valleys, and the rain began to fall hard. Vertical sheets of water pelted her head and shoulders.

Drawing upon her last reserve of strength, she staggered to her feet. Beside her was a backpack—a big one that was suitable for weeklong wilderness expeditions. She hefted the weight onto her shoulders. She knew inherently that she needed to keep this pack with her at all times.

Stooped over, she moved as quickly as she could toward the nearby sheltering trees. Every step was torture. Inside her hiking boots, her toes cramped. Her knees and ankles creaked like frayed hinges.

At the edge of the forest, she collapsed on a carpet of pine needles. Small, gasping sobs escaped her chapped lips as she squinted through the rain toward the hunters on the opposite side of the mountain meadow.

She saw nothing. They were gone. She peered so intensely that her eyes ached. Nothing. They had vanished so quickly. Did they even exist? Had she invented the hunters? No! She knew they were out there.

Fear was her only reality, her only truth. People were after her. Faceless men, hunters, tracked her down like an animal. My God, why? What have I done?

If they found her, they would kill her. They’d tried once already. The slash on her arm. The wound on her head. She had to stay hidden, here in the forest. It was the only way she’d survive. She had to be smart. But how? How could she pretend to be clever when her brain was addled and her memory was gone?

She couldn’t do this. It was better to surrender, to lie back and accept her fate.

“Stop it,” she whispered angrily. She wasn’t a quitter. Though she didn’t remember her own name, she knew this: she wasn’t the sort of woman who gave up without a fight.

Her shoulders straightened. She would take responsibility for her own safety. She would forge a new life, a new identity. Here, in the forest.

Following the custom of Native American tribes christening a newborn, she chose her name based on the first thing she had seen when she’d awakened.

Rain. I am Rain.

Chapter One

At midafternoon on a sunlit day, Rain hunkered down beside a rippling creek. She reached into the cold, clear water and picked out a pebble. Round and smooth, the stone was the color of a tiger’s stripe and speckled with bits of quartz.

After careful inspection, she decided the tawny color was perfect for today—a very good day because she’d caught a fish. Today, she was fierce as a tiger. She was the huntress instead of the hunted.

Though she’d seen no sign of the men who had been pursuing her for days, she still felt their presence. At any given moment, they might appear.

Rain turned her back on the creek and scurried toward her wilderness home. Careful not to follow the same route and create a path that might lead others to her hideout, she zigzagged toward a wall of pines and a towering granite formation. Behind three fat boulders was a cleared space with a fire pit. She pushed aside a clump of sagebrush and entered her shallow cave.

Kneeling on the cave floor, she ceremoniously dropped the tiger pebble into a basket she’d woven from reeds and twigs. One pebble for every day of her new life. “Twenty-eight, so far.”

Proud that she’d survived so long, Rain smiled. The sunburned skin across her cheeks stretched and cracked, and she rubbed her face. Without moisturizer, her complexion must be a leathery disaster. Not that she was planning to win any beauty pageants.

Her jeans were torn, and so baggy that she held them up with twine she’d plaited from reeds and sweetgrass. Her blue silk shirt was in tatters. Several days ago, she’d given up on grooming her long, unmanageable, blond hair and had hacked it short—not stylish but functional. She didn’t have time to worry about how she looked. Every moment was dedicated to survival. Nothing else mattered.

Though it was a bit early for dinner preparations, she couldn’t wait to cook the fresh trout that would go so well with her usual salad of goldenrod, burdock and mint. As she took the leaves from the cooking pot where they soaked in water from the creek, she wished that she had oil or butter for frying.

Those were food items her backpack had not provided, but she wasn’t complaining. The pack had literally saved her life. Tucked inside, she’d found a Marmot Pinnacle sleeping bag, a serrated Buck knife, a collapsible fishing rod and Meals, Ready-to-Eat—the same kind of prepackaged, high-calorie food that the U.S. military used on maneuvers.

Though the last of her MREs had been devoured thirteen days ago, Rain found plenty of edible foods in the wild. Bark and grass. Flowers and roots. And now, the chokecherries and elderberries had begun to appear. She wouldn’t starve.

In fact, her health was good. Her wounds had healed, thanks to the first aid kit in her pack and her knowledge of medicinal plants.

Though she still couldn’t force herself to recall what had happened to her, memories had appeared like snapshots—moments caught in time. Once remembered, these pieces of the past became hers, not to be forgotten again.

Easily, she pictured her mother descending a sweeping staircase, being greeted by a golden retriever with a wildly wagging tail.

And there was a Little League game she’d coached.

On a green golf course, she practiced her swing.

Rain remembered her own wedding. The pristine lace dress. The filmy veil. And roses, tons of pink roses. Unfortunately, the groom wasn’t a clear vision, and she had the sinking feeling that her marriage hadn’t turned out well.

The elaborate, many-tiered cake, she recalled, had been delicious.

With a longing sigh, she fantasized about all the marvelous foods she used to eat. Gourmet sauces. Cheese and bread. Cream and chocolate desserts. She especially missed the candy bars her father used to bring home when she was a little girl. He’d hold out his arms and allow her to search his jacket pockets until she found the chocolate.

By far, her favorite memories were the days she’d spent with her father. A big, strong man, he’d taught her wilderness skills when she was a girl. They used to go backpacking together. He’d taught her how to forage; those skills had probably saved her life.

Through the mouth of her cave, she glanced heavenward. Her father—his name was Eric—had passed away several years ago. “I miss you, Dad.”

In her mind, she repeated his name. Eric. The golden retriever, also deceased, was Daisy. Her mother was Elizabeth. She’d remarried. Her new husband was Peter Rowe, and he had a son, Tom Rowe. All those names. But when it came to her own identity, she was still…Rain.

Knowledge of her immediate past remained elusive no matter how hard she tried to remember. The only thing she knew for sure was that hunters were trying to kill her, and their pursuit was relentless.

The only way to be safe was to stay hidden.

This was her life. The forest was her home. And it was time to build the fire and cook her fish. She took the cooking supplies from the backpack and went to the fire pit where the twigs and sticks were already laid.

Carefully, she guarded the flame of a match from her dwindling supply. For kindling, she used a hundred-dollar bill.

PILOTING SOLO IN HIS modified Super Cub, Liam MacKenzie swooped low and made a pass through an isolated valley in Rocky Mountain National Park. Not a particularly safe aerial maneuver, this dive wasn’t anything he’d try with the people who regularly hired him as a charter pilot. But Liam had been flying this little Cub so long that she was like an extension of his own body; he could make her do anything he wanted. He tipped the wing and stared down at the waving grasses. There appeared to be nothing unusual.

Nearing the edge of the meadow, he pulled back on the yoke, cleared the treetops and ruddered left, preparing to make another sweep. Two days ago, he’d flown high over several miles of terrain, including this meadow, taking aerial photos for a real estate developer in Grand Lake. When he’d gotten the developed pictures back and studied them, he’d seen a parka on the ground—a sign of human life where none should be.

There were dozens of possible explanations. An animal might have dragged the parka there. Someone outside the sanctioned camping area might have lost their jacket. But Liam hoped the parka was a sign of two people who had been missing for nearly a month: Kate Carradine and her boyfriend, Wayne Silverman.

The major search-and-rescue efforts had ended a couple of weeks ago and miles away from here. A forest fire had destroyed nearly a thousand acres, and these two missing people were presumed lost in the flames. No trace of them had been found. No bones. No rubber-soled hiking boots. And, significantly, no sign of a burned-out vehicle.

The absence of a car gave rise to speculation that they hadn’t gone camping in the first place, had never been in the area and didn’t want to be found.

None of these theories satisfied Kate’s mother, Elizabeth Carradine-Rowe, a wealthy socialite and—from what Liam had heard—a first-class pain in the rear. Miss Elizabeth couldn’t believe that her only daughter had disappeared. She’d contacted Colorado Crime Consultants. Through CCC, Liam had gotten involved.

In a soaring loop, he brought his Cub around for another view of the mountain meadow. He volunteered his time and his plane for search efforts because he believed in CCC and in the founder, Adam Briggs. Their goal was pure: solving crime for the sake of justice and to bring closure for the victims’ family and friends. Everyone who worked for CCC’s loosely organized network was a private citizen with special expertise. There were doctors, medical examiners, coroners, meteorologists, entomologists and pilots like Liam.

He first became aware of CCC when he was an assistant district attorney in Denver. That felt like a lifetime ago! Seventy-hour workweeks. Three-piece suits. Courtroom battles. Constant stress. Yeah, there had been a few rewards. Like the satisfaction of taking a dangerous perp off the streets. But there had been a hell of a lot more frustrations.

On his thirtieth birthday, three years ago, Liam dumped his career and moved to Grand Lake to be a charter pilot. Wise decision.

Now his only association with crime was CCC. Purely voluntary. He operated on his own schedule, followed his own methods. Twice, his aerial photos had been instrumental in locating missing persons—both dead.

RAIN HUNCHED HER SHOULDERS and ducked down. The plane was coming back. She heard the whine of the propeller. He was making a second sweep. Though her fire was too small to be seen, and well-hidden by the surrounding forest, he might notice the rising smoke.

Her heart beat fast. He was one of them—one of the hunters.

She tasted bitter fear in the back of her mouth. If she tamped the fire or doused it with water, the smoke would billow. He’d know she was here.

Her gaze encompassed her cozy campsite. It felt like home, and she didn’t want to leave. Damn it! If she was found, if the hunters came near, she would have to gather up everything and run.

But how could she escape unseen? There were hours of daylight left, and it would be easy for a pilot to spot her from the air as she made her way across the hillsides. There had to be another solution.

She went to her backpack and took out the gun.

AS THE CUB CAME AROUND, Liam’s gaze skimmed the distant peaks, still marked with snow in early August. He looked down on dense, old-growth forests and rugged cliffs. The noise of his plane’s engine startled a small herd of elk, and they darted into the forest.

Liam dipped down across the open terrain again. There was a flash from the ground—something was down there.

This sighting merited closer investigation, but he knew better than to land in a meadow with high grasses that hid rocks and prairie dog holes. The low-pressure tundra tires on his Super Cub were made for rugged landings, but he needed to see the obstacles. He pulled up and looked for an open stretch—a couple hundred feet was enough.

Nothing out here resembled a landing strip. There were no roads, no houses, no ranger stations. This area was miles away from sanctioned campgrounds, seriously isolated.

Nearly a mile and a half away, he spied a dry, gravelly stretch beside a wide creek. A challenging descent, but he could do it. He aligned his approach and cut the speed, slowed until he was floating on air. Then the wheels hit the earth, and Liam jolted like ice in a blender.

The Cub lurched to a stop, and he leaned forward to fondly pat her dashboard. She was a good old girl.

Before leaving the cockpit, he stuffed a candy bar into the pocket of his plaid flannel shirt. Not much of a dinner, but it would have to do. He grabbed the photographs of the missing people and hiked due north.

Liam didn’t expect to find them alive, especially not Kate. Her photo showed an attractive, pampered Colorado blonde with long, smooth hair and cool blue eyes. She’d never last two days in the mountains, much less a month.

Pausing at the top of a ridge, he looked down at the mountain meadow. The sun hung low in the sky, and shadows had fallen across the land. He needed to hurry so he wouldn’t have to take off in the dark.

Jogging down the slope, he tried to pinpoint the area where he’d seen a flash. After a lot of tromping around, he found it. A crushed beer can—the ubiquitous sign of humanity.

When he picked up the can, he realized that it hadn’t been in this location for long; the grass beneath it was green and alive.

He followed a slight trail, marked by broken grasses. There was another can and three rocks piled on top of each other. What the hell was going on here?

Walking slowly, he came to a flattened area of grass. Someone had been lying here.

He squatted down to take a closer look. Caught in thorny shrub was a scrap of fabric. Blue silk. That was the kind of quality material Kate Carradine would wear.

When he stood, he caught a whiff of smoke. A campfire! What kind of moron would start a fire here? Too easily, the flames could spread. Danger of another killer forest fire was high. He hiked toward the faintly rising smoke, ready to kick some irresponsible camper’s butt.

At the edge of the trees, he heard a shout.

“Don’t come any closer! I have a gun!”

It was a woman’s voice.

“Ma’am,” Liam called out, “you can’t have a fire here. It’s dangerous.”

There was no response. Did she really have a gun? He called out to her again. “This isn’t a sanctioned camping area.”

“Are you a park ranger?”

He rested his hand against the trunk of a ponderosa pine and peered toward the sound of her voice. Though he couldn’t see her, she appeared to be hiding behind three lichen-covered boulders. “I’m with CCC.”

“Colorado Crime Consultants.” Rain had heard of them. CCC was a volunteer group, and she knew intuitively that they were the good guys. If he was telling the truth, she could trust him. “What kind of work are you doing for CCC?”

“I’m looking for two missing persons.”

“Who?”

“Their names are Wayne Silverman and Kate Carradine.”

“Kate, huh?” The name resonated through her brain. She heard the faint echo of voices calling that name. Her name? “I suppose that’s short for Katherine.”

“Probably.”

“Katherine Carradine. That’s a long name,” she said. Though familiar, she wasn’t ready to accept that identity. “Six syllables. You’d think a person would remember a name that long.”

“Ma’am? Is anybody here with you?”

Why did he want to know? Though she’d watched him approach alone, others might be with him.

The hairs on her nape prickled. Her head swiveled, trying to see in all directions at once.

Returning her attention to the tall man, her thumb twitched on the handle of the Glock automatic, and her trigger finger tightened as she kept her aim steady. Though she didn’t want to shoot anybody, she might not have a choice. He could be lying to her. He could be one of the hunters.

“What about you?” she shouted, keeping the tremor from her voice. “Is anybody here with you?”

“I’m alone.”

“You came in a plane,” she said. “I heard you buzz the field. You scared the wildlife.”

He took a step toward the rocks where she was hiding. “Have you got a name?”

“You can call me Rain. One syllable.”

“Nice to meet you, Rain. I’m Liam.”

When he took another step, she growled, “Didn’t you hear me? I have a gun, and I shoot trespassers. Now, back off. Walk away.”

“It’s not safe for you to have a fire out here.”

As if he cared. If he was one of the hunters, he would burn her alive. Panic crashed inside her head. “I told you to stop moving.”

“It’s okay.” He took another step toward her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Like hell he wasn’t. She aimed high and pulled the trigger. The gunshot exploded.

Chapter Two

Liam hit the dirt. This crazy woman was shooting at him! He sure as hell hadn’t bargained for this.

“Hey, mister,” she called out. “Liam? Are you all right?”

Cautiously, he raised his head and looked up. She stood on top of the boulders, only twenty feet away from him. A bizarre sight. She was skinny as a bone. Her jeans were torn at both knees, and she wore a baggy black T-shirt over a blouse with a blue collar. Blue silk? Her blond hair with dark roots stood out in wild spikes. Her face was darkly tanned, emphasizing her blue eyes. There was something about those eyes. A clarity. A steadiness that told him she wasn’t really crazy after all.

She squatted on her rock perch, limber as a gymnast. “I couldn’t have hit you. I aimed high.”

“I’m okay.” As he rose to his feet and brushed off his jeans, he continued to study her. Though she barely resembled the woman in the photograph, Liam knew he’d found Kate Carradine.

“It’s you,” he said. “You’re Kate.”

“I’m not. I already told you my name.”

“Rain.” It suited her. She was wild as a lightning storm across the Rockies. He couldn’t believe Kate Carradine had managed to survive in the wilderness. This was tough, rugged country, and she’d been here almost a month.

Finding her alive was some kind of miracle, and he was determined that he wouldn’t leave without her. Though she looked wiry and strong, she might have been injured. Must have been. Why else would she stay here?

His first obvious step was to gain her trust so she’d allow him to come closer. If he could get her talking, he could convince her to leave. Feigning nonchalance, he said, “You’re cooking something.”

“I caught a fish.” She sounded proud of herself. “That’s my dinner.”

“I’m hungry, too. Maybe we could share.”

A frown creased her forehead. “I suppose I should offer my hospitality. That’s the proper thing to do, to share whatever is mine.”

“You’re right,” he said. “That’s proper.”

But when he took a step closer, she raised her gun again. Her attitude changed. “Normal rules don’t apply out here.” Her voice was firm. “I advise you not to come any closer.”

Looking down the barrel of her handgun, he planted his feet and took root. “I’m not moving.”

Her gaze darted as though searching for something. “I don’t want to shoot you, but I will.”

Approaching her was like trying to get close to a wounded mountain lion. She needed his help but refused to take it. She was scared. And, therefore, dangerous.

“I don’t mean any harm.” He needed to convince her that he was a friend. Reaching into the pocket of his flannel shirt, he took out the candy bar and held it up so she could see. “I’ll make you a deal—put down the gun, and you can have this.”

“Chocolate,” she whispered. “Oh, how I’ve missed chocolate.”

Her mouth watered. Her stomach growled. Never in her life had Rain wanted anything more than she wanted that candy bar. She wanted to inhale the sugary cocoa fragrance, to feel the gooey texture as it melted on her tongue.

This man—Liam—held the candy bar toward her. He was calm, unaware of the treasure in his hands. She swallowed hard, remembering her father and the candy bars he’d carried.

But she wasn’t ready to entrust her hard-won safety to Liam. Though he said he was alone and worked for CCC, she didn’t know for sure. He could be one of the hunters.

Still keeping watch on him, she glanced toward the meadow and the stream. The sound of her gunshot should have summoned other searchers, other hunters.

But she saw no one else.

Was it safe to take the chocolate?

No way would she allow Liam to come closer. He was a big man, over six feet tall. Though he was lean, his shoulders looked muscular inside his red-and-black plaid flannel shirt.

Her gaze zeroed in on the candy bar. “Do you have any credentials from CCC?”

“Nope. It’s a volunteer organization.”

“Then how do I know you’re working with them?”

“You have to trust me,” he said.

Not a chance. Not so easily. What if he was armed? She certainly couldn’t get close enough to frisk him. Gesturing emphatically with her gun, she said, “Take off your shirt.”

He set the candy bar down on the pine needles and did as she asked, peeling off the plaid flannel. A white T-shirt fit snugly across his chest. His upper arms were sinewy and strong. There wasn’t an ounce of flab on his frame.

“Now,” she said, “put your hands over your head and turn around in a circle. Real slow.”

Though she should have been looking for a handgun or a holster fastened to his leather belt, she was distracted by his tapering torso and his tight, round bottom. She wanted to believe that he wasn’t one of the men hunting her. But how could she be sure?

When he faced her again, she studied his features, looking for a reason to trust him. Or to know he was the enemy. He had a good, strong nose and firm jaw that made her think he was either stubborn or arrogant. What about his eyes? Eyes were the clearest indicator of temperament. His were deep-set, hazel in color. Though she was holding a lethal weapon, his eyes showed no fear. Instead, there was…determination? Curiosity?

“Empty your pockets,” she ordered.

A muscle in his jaw twitched, and she could tell that he was irritated. But he did as she asked.

The contents of his pockets included a Swiss Army knife, but nothing else that could be considered dangerous.

Satisfied that he was unarmed, she said, “Okay, I’ll take that chocolate now.”

“It’s my dinner,” he said. “Do I get some of your fish?”

When she’d been a little girl, camping with her father, Rain had learned to share her bounty with anyone who showed up at the campfire. Wilderness hospitality meant looking out for each other.

Obviously, such protocol didn’t apply to someone who meant to do you harm. Though Liam said he was on a search-and-rescue mission, she still wasn’t convinced. She wouldn’t give up her edge, no matter how attractive his butt. “Toss the candy bar over here, close to these rocks. Then, step back five paces.”

Again, he followed her instructions.

As she climbed down from the boulders, her heart beat faster. The air grew thick with portent, and she felt a little bit dizzy. Interaction with another human being had jolted something loose inside her head. Another memory. Not a pleasant one.

A sense of danger flared, and the heat spread through her veins, melting her resolve, dragging her toward a dangerous weariness. She was losing control. Fight it! Don’t give in! Bracing her back against the boulder, she faced the tall stranger.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” Her voice quavered. “Stay back.”

What next? It was hard to think. Her brain was in turmoil. She forced words through her lips. “Put your hands over your head.”

He followed her instructions. The precious, beautiful, delicious chocolate was within her grasp, but she couldn’t move. She stared at the center of Liam’s chest. And she remembered….

A burst of gunfire. It crashed and rattled inside her head. She saw blood that wasn’t her own. A man had been shot, fatally wounded. The thick, red blood spread across his chest as he staggered toward her.

Rain blinked rapidly, trying to clear this unwanted vision from her head. For an instant, she had seen the past with crystal clarity. And it terrified her.

She glanced down at the gun in her trembling hand, and she feared the worst. Had she fired the fatal bullet? Was she a murderer? In an awful yet logical way, it made sense. She hadn’t hesitated to shoot at Liam. Had someone else threatened her?

Oh God, what if she was on the run because she’d killed another human being? What if the hunters who were after her were lawmen?

Rain needed to find out more, to unlock her memories. Right now, Liam was her only source of information.

“The names,” she said. “Tell me again. What are the names of those missing people?”

“Kate Carradine,” he said. “Wayne Silverman.”

Had she killed Wayne Silverman? Though she couldn’t visualize his face, there was no doubt in her mind that he had died. His spirit had departed from this earth. “What else do you know?”

“Wayne was your boyfriend.” Liam’s hands were still raised above his head. “Together, you left Denver and went to the mountains for a camping trip. There were several forest fires that weekend. When you didn’t return on Monday morning, search parties started looking.”

“A fire.” When she had first come to this meadow, her clothing had smelled of smoke. It was becoming inescapably clear that she was, in fact, Kate Carradine.

“Let me help you,” Liam offered. “I’ll take you home where you’ll be safe.”

“Home?” But this forest was her home. If she returned to Denver, she would be walking into lethal peril. But how could that be? She’d be returning to her family. Her mother, Elizabeth. Her stepfather and stepbrother. Returning to their welcoming embrace gave her no comfort.

“Listen, Kate—”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not who you think I am.”

Liam raised his eyebrows. “You’re Kate Carradine.”

“No.” She could take care of herself as long as she stayed here. This was her sanctuary. Loudly, she proclaimed, “My name is Rain. I live here. And I’m not leaving. Not ever.”

In two measured steps, she approached the candy bar. Her intention was to retrieve her chocolate and take it back to her cave where she could eat it slowly and make the flavor last for days. But when she touched the smooth wrapper, her self-discipline faded.

One bite wouldn’t hurt. Still holding her Glock, she tore open the wrapper with her teeth. The smell was heavenly. Her taste buds danced with giddy anticipation. She bit through the chocolate and caramel. A warm memory of her father’s face flashed across her mind, easing her fear. Candy bars had only good, comforting associations for her.

Another taste. Chocolate smeared across her chapped lips. She licked it off and nibbled again.

When she looked up, she saw Liam watching her. He was grinning, and before she could stop herself, she returned his smile.

Just as quickly, she scowled. It was still too soon to trust him. “This isn’t funny, you know. I’ve been out here for twenty-eight days.”

“I’m not laughing.” He knitted his fingers together and rested his hands on top of his head. “I like to see a woman who enjoys her food.”

She took another small bite, savoring the texture. The sugar rushed through her system, boosting her energy, giving her a false sense of well-being. “All right, Liam. What kind of work do you do when you’re not flying search and rescue for CCC?”

“I’m a charter pilot based out of Grand Lake.”

“Why did you come to this spot?”

“A couple of days ago, I took aerial photos of your meadow. When the pictures came back, I noticed a parka on the ground.”

She nodded. He was telling the truth. Her parka had gotten wet and she’d laid it out in the grasses to dry. “So you came back to look around.”

“That’s right,” he said. “Now, I have a question for you. Why do you want to stay here?”

“I want to be left alone.”

“Something’s got you scared,” he said.

His perceptiveness surprised her. Her eyes narrowed as she met his gaze. “Why do you think I’m afraid?”

Steadily and calmly, he said, “You’re hiding from something. Why?”

This was more than enough sharing of information. Even if Liam wasn’t one of the hunters, she wanted him gone. Rain had no intention of leaving these mountains.

She’d nibbled the candy bar down to a stub, which she held out toward him. “The rest is yours.”

As he approached, she realized her mistake in inviting him closer. Before she could pull the candy bar back, Liam took it from her. And he kept on coming.

She scrambled backward until she was trapped between the boulder and this tall, muscular man. He must be nuts to come at her like this. Didn’t he see the Glock? The barrel was only inches away from his belly. If she pulled the trigger—

He grasped her wrist and bent her elbow. The bore of the gun pointed toward the sky. His body pressed against hers. She could feel his hard strength and the heat that emanated from him. This was her first human contact in weeks, and the sensation startled her. She’d forgotten what it was like to be touched.

His nearness took her breath away. His fingers locked firmly around her forearm, and his gaze imprisoned hers.

“I could disarm you.” He wasn’t bragging, merely stating a fact.

Her lips pressed tightly together. There was no point in objecting. Liam was capable of physically overpowering her.

“However…” His voice was deep and resonant and— God help her!—sexy. “I’m not interested in taking your gun away.”

Up close, his hazel eyes were flecked with gold and deep, forest green. He stared with an unblinking intensity that verified her earlier impression: this was a stubborn man. She asked, “What do you want from me?”

“The truth,” he said. “You could have returned to civilization if you wanted. You seem to be healthy enough to hike out. But you stayed here, and I want to know why.”

Rain swallowed hard. “I don’t have a simple explanation.”

“We’ve got time to talk,” he said. “Without having you wave a gun in my face.”

“Fair enough.”

When he stepped back and released her, the gun lowered to her side. The fact that he had released her, rather than press his advantage, counted for a great deal. Though still wary, she had to believe that he meant her no harm.

“Come with me.” Rain circled around the boulders and led him into her little camp. He was the first person to see her wilderness home.

“Very nice,” he said.

She was proud of what she’d done here. The gravelled area in front of her cave was neatly groomed. This was her dining room and kitchen. She’d cleared away the foliage and built her fire pit against the rocks. Using stones and a sturdy pine branch with the bark whittled away, she’d made a spit across the fire. Though she hadn’t managed to catch any fresh meat to cook on her spit, she used the branch to hang her only cooking pot above the flames. The water in the pot churned at a slow, erratic boil.

She offered, “Would you like some tea?”

“Sure.”

Luckily, she had two cups—one of which she used for brushing her teeth by the creek. She poured water into the toothbrush cup to rinse it out.

“What’s that?” he asked. “The thing you’re using to hold your water?”

“It’s a sock.”

“I can see that. Why isn’t the water draining through it?”

“Because it’s lined with a condom.”

“Ah.” A sick expression pulled down the corners of his mouth. “And where did you find condoms?”

“In my backpack.” She pointed to three other condom-socks hanging from tree branches. “Handy little things. They hold about a quart of water each. Does that seem excessive to you?”

“Not if they’re elephant condoms.”

She dipped boiling water from the pot into each cup and added her own special mixture of sage, sorrel bark and mint. “We let it steep. Then, it’s tea.”

He asked, “Is this all the food you’ve had to eat?”

“I had seven MREs. Those lasted for about two weeks.”

“Meals, Ready-to-Eat. Like in the Army.” Liam leaned against a boulder beside the fire. “So you packed for a week’s worth of camping.”

“I had all the basics.”

Whether or not she’d packed these items herself was an unanswered question. Surreptitiously, she glanced toward the expedition-sized backpack that leaned against the inner wall of her cave. In addition to the camping gear, the bottom of the backpack had been lined with neatly wrapped bundles of hundred-dollar bills. Almost fifty thousand in cash. There had also been a pouch containing jewelry—diamonds and gold.

Rain had tried and tried to come up with reasonable explanations for why she might be carrying money and gems on a camping trip. Unfortunately, she kept coming back to the same conclusion: this loot was stolen. Which made her a thief. If she added that fact to the revelation that she was also possibly a murderer…

“What else was in your pack?” he asked.

No way would she tell him about the treasure. “A hunting knife. Fishing kit. Sleeping bag. That cooking pot. And first aid supplies, thank goodness.”

“Were you injured?”

She rolled up the tattered sleeve of her silk blouse and the T-shirt she wore on top of it. A wide, red scar crossed the middle of her upper arm. “This was bad at first, but I used antiseptic from the first aid kit. And I made a poultice from valerian leaves and roots to draw out the infection. I’m not sure if that was the right herb, but it seemed to help.”

“Was that your only wound?”

She reached up and rubbed her hand through her spiky hair. “I had a bump on my head. No big deal.”

Liam knew that head injuries could be tricky. If she’d had a concussion, it might explain her strange behavior. “You should see a doctor.”

“I’m already healed,” she said blithely. “No infections.”

“Kate, you have to go back,” he said gently. “Sooner or later, you need to let your family know you’re all right. Your mother’s worried.”

“When you leave, you can tell her that I’m okay.”

“She wants you to come home. She’s the one who convinced CCC to continue the search.”

An expression of concern crossed her face, and her gaze turned inward, as though she were reviewing her options. Then, she shook her head. “No,” she said simply. “This is my home. I’m safe here.”

“Safe from what?” he asked. “Why do you think you’re in danger?”

“I just know.”

She handed him a cup of fragrant mint tea and returned to the fire. She wasn’t insane. Her little hideout was orderly and efficient. Her ability to survive required an intelligent application of concentration and knowledge.

But she had completely disowned her prior existence; she refused to be Kate Carradine. “Is somebody after you? Who is it?”

She whipped around to face him. Her fists planted on her hips. Her voice was a challenge. “I can’t remember.”

That didn’t make a whole lot of sense. If she’d been scared enough to stay in hiding for nearly a month, she must know why. “Are you saying that you can’t remember their names?”

She met his gaze. “I can’t remember anything. When I first came here, my memory was completely gone. The slate was wiped clean.”

Son of a bitch! She had amnesia.

Chapter Three

As Liam studied the defiant woman who stood before him, he realized that handling Kate Carradine would require a delicate touch. He couldn’t fling her over his shoulder and haul her out of the forest. He needed to overcome her resistance and convince her to cooperate. Not an easy proposition.

When he’d worked for the Denver district attorney, he’d honed his skills in interrogation, and he was pretty damn good at knowing when someone was telling the truth. But how could he deal with amnesia? He wasn’t a psychologist. “You don’t remember anything?”

“Nothing about the immediate past.” She squared her thin shoulders and gave a diffident shrug. “It’s not really important.”

“The hell it isn’t.”

“If I can’t remember, what difference does it make?”

“Let’s start with the obvious fact that Wayne Silverman is still missing. Your memory might be able to explain what happened to him.”

“I can’t tell you.” Her gaze flickered, but she didn’t look away. “I’m sorry that my disappearance triggered a search-and-rescue effort. And I’m sorry that I caused people to worry. But I didn’t have a choice. I’m in danger.”

“From a person or persons unknown.”

“That’s right,” she said.

He sensed that her amnesia masked darker, more sinister events. Something traumatic had happened to her—something too terrible to remember.

If he hoped to uncover the truth, he needed to keep her talking. “Fill me in on what you do remember. You came here twenty-eight days ago. Wounded.”

“I wasn’t exactly here,” she said. “It took me a while to find this perfect little cave.”

“But you don’t remember where you came from.”

“I was on the run.”

“But you didn’t plan to go into hiding,” he said. “You only had enough food for a week.”

“That’s when the MREs ran out,” she said.

“So you lived off the land,” he said. “How did you know which plants were edible?”

“It’s not difficult. There are obvious ones to stay away from. Vetch. Locoweed. And the state flower, the columbine.” As she talked, she returned to her food-preparation tasks, lifting a cover of leaves from an expertly filleted trout and placing the fish in the boiling water to poach. “There are ways to see if a plant is poisonous.”

“Like what?”

“Cut off a little piece and put it between your teeth and your gums. If it starts to sting or cause some other reaction, spit it out.”

Her story intrigued him. He was familiar with mountain-survival techniques but had never known anybody who actually lived off the land. “How did you learn all this?”

“My dad,” she said. “He used to take me backpacking and we’d forage for dinner.”

“Makes sense. Your father was the head of RMS, Rocky Mountain Suppliers.” He hadn’t taken that piece of her background into account. “He specialized in outdoor equipment.”

“I remember.” The minute she mentioned her father, her attitude brightened. “When we went camping, we were always testing some kind of gear. Dad used to say he was the luckiest man in the world because camping was a business trip for him. He loved the mountains.”

“Eric Carradine,” Liam said. “And you’re his daughter, Kate.”

“Rain,” she said. “Call me Rain.”

“Okay. It’s Rain.” He decided to humor her. So what if she wanted to call herself Rain? Or Moon? Or Ruby-Throated Hummingbird? After all these days in the wild and a dose of amnesia, some delusional thinking was to be expected.

Besides, her Rain persona appealed to him. He respected and appreciated her gutsy stamina. In her identity as Kate Carradine, he expected her to be a socialite, a pampered society woman who arranged flower bouquets rather than eating them for dinner.

“There’s plenty of food out here,” she said. “Look at all these trees. Inside the new branches is a soft, woody part that’s edible. If you roast pinecones in the fire, then break them open, these little nuts fall out.”

“Sounds like a lot of effort.”

“Oh, it is,” she said. “I spend most of the daylight hours foraging. And I have to hike all over the place to do it because I don’t want to completely wipe out the ecosystem in front of my cave.”

“Because it’s bad for the environment?”

“And I didn’t want anybody to find me.” She poked at the fish in her cooking pot. “Why don’t you sit down and relax?”

Though he had the feeling that he was losing focus on his goal of getting her away from this place, Liam allowed himself to be seduced. He sat on a flat rock at the opposite side of the fire pit and watched as she efficiently arranged leaves and stems on a woven plate made from twigs.

“You made those plates,” he said.

“When I figured out how easy it was to weave young branches and reeds, I made a bunch of things. It gave me something to do at night, when I couldn’t forage.”

Given enough time out here, he suspected she might really create a home for herself. Her little space was swept clean, and she’d placed dried flowers among the rocks for decoration. He pointed to a tall woven vase just inside her cave. “What’s that?”

“My calendar.” She brought the woven vessel closer so he could see inside. “There’s one pebble for every day I’ve been here. I try to choose a rock that looks like the day.”

He reached inside and ran his fingers through the stones. “I see several black ones.”

“Dark days.” Hunkered down opposite him, she plucked out a caramel-colored stone. “This is today. It reminded me of a tiger, and that seemed appropriate because today I caught a fish. I was a huntress.”

“And you held me at bay,” he said.

“Yeah.” She gave a self-deprecating wink. “I’m really fearsome, huh?”

“I wouldn’t use that word to describe you.”

“No? What word would you use?”

“Resourceful,” he said. “Smart.”

She cocked her head to one side and grinned. “Keep going.”

When she wasn’t holding a gun on him, she had a vivid charm and enthusiasm. “Pretty.”

She rolled her eyes. “Now you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not,” he said. “You look good to me.”

“Apparently,” she drawled, “you don’t get out much.”

But he wasn’t lying. He thought she had a great, expressive smile. And he liked the healthy tan color of her skin that contrasted with her cornflower-blue eyes. Even the weird hairdo worked for him. With the dark roots, and blond on top, she reminded him of some kind of exotic, tufted bird.

She passed him a plate with a miniscule shred of trout and weedy leaves. He took a taste. The flavor of the roughage was a cross between grazing and gnawing on a tree limb, but it’d be ungrateful not to eat the food she’d gone to such trouble to gather and prepare.

Rain attacked her plate with gusto. Though she wasn’t transported into ecstasy, like when she’d eaten the candy, she took regular bites and chewed thoroughly.

She glanced at his plate and raised an eyebrow. “Not hungry?”

“I eat slow.”

“If you don’t finish your greens, no dessert. That’s what my mother always used to say.”

The mention of Elizabeth Carradine-Rowe reminded Liam of his mission. He needed to get Kate out of here.

Glancing through the sheltering trees, he saw that dusk had begun to settle. Soon it would be too dark for him to attempt a takeoff in the Cub. “I can’t leave after dark,” he said. “I can’t see the hazards to the plane.”

“Tonight will be dark,” she agreed. “It’s a new moon tonight, only a skinny crescent.”

“Come with me. We can go now while there’s still enough light.”

“How many times do I have to say no?”

“I won’t leave without you.”

“Then we have a standoff,” she said. “You can’t force me to come with you. And, it seems that I can’t make you go.”

He set his plate aside and leaned back against the boulder, settling in. “Guess I’ll have to spend the night.”

For an instant, her eyes sparkled. He could tell that she was enjoying his company, no matter how resistant she pretended to be. “Don’t think—for one minute—that you’ll be sharing my sleeping bag.”

She stacked his plate on top of her own and went about her business, briskly informing him about the rules of the camp. No more wood on the fire. Food scraps must be carried far away and buried so they wouldn’t attract animals during the night. “And if you need to, um, relieve yourself, go a long way from camp. I don’t want the smell around here.”

“We don’t have to do this,” he said.

“I’m sure there are other ways, but I prefer—”

“Come back to Denver with me,” he said. “Tonight you could sleep in a bed. With a soft comforter. You could take a long, hot shower.”

“Not interested.”

The light was fading. He had only a few minutes to convince her. “What about your memory? A psychiatrist could get it back. Hypnosis or something.”

“It might be better if I don’t remember.” Her words held a disturbing ring of truth. “All I need to know, deep in my heart, is that I’m in danger. I’m the prey, and there are hunters coming after me. Can you trust me about this?”

“I trust you, Rain.”

Her face lit up. “You called me Rain.”

“The name suits you.”

He was drawn toward her by a compelling force. More than anything, he wanted to make her smile again and again. He wanted to hold her, to protect her from danger—be it real or imagined.

As she sat near him, the faint glow of sunset and the dying campfire illuminated the planes of her face. Her full lips parted as she breathed, softly and steadily. Gentle shadows outlined her high cheekbones and her sharp jawline.

Rain. He was struck by the realization that he liked this feral woman. He admired her gritty determination, no matter how misguided.

“Just for the sake of argument,” she said, “tell me what you know about Kate’s family.”

“The Carradines are a legend in Denver. Old money.”

She gave him her full attention. “So we’re rich.”

“Very.”

Liam tried to remember all that he could. In the early 1900s, the Carradines started with a general store. Kate’s grandfather turned it into a successful franchise of outdoor-sporting-goods outlets, Rocky Mountain Suppliers.

“And my father?”

“He took the business worldwide.”

From RMS, the Carradines built an empire with varied dealings in land development and housing, both in Denver and the mountain resorts. Though they sponsored charity events, RMS wasn’t known for their efforts to protect the environment.

“That can’t be right,” she said. “My dad was concerned about the environment. And so am I. In fact, I was working on a project. It was a wilderness camp for disadvantaged kids. My primary contact person was Rachel Robertson, a fantastic woman who runs a homeless shelter.”

“Like I said, RMS is involved in charities.”

“What else?”

Unfortunately, Liam had run out of things to tell her. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the photographs. “This is you. And Wayne.”

She stared for a full minute at the photo of herself, then she sighed. “You’re right. I am pretty. At least in this picture.”

Then she looked at Wayne Silverman. “He’s an attorney, but I don’t think he was ever my boyfriend. Maybe we dated.”

“When you disappeared, you were planning to spend the weekend with him.”

“Camping.” She looked up at him. “That doesn’t mean we were sleeping together.”

“Do you have any idea where he is?”

Her expression turned guarded. “Not a clue.”

Liam knew she was keeping something from him, and her secret was connected to Wayne Silverman.

She crossed the small clearing and grabbed the strap of her backpack, which she pulled deeper inside her cave, where he couldn’t see. Was she trying to keep the pack away from him?

She emerged carrying a silver solar blanket which she held toward him. “You’re sleeping on the ground tonight. But you can use this to ward off the chill.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Me neither. But after it’s dark, we need to sleep, to keep strong for another day of foraging.”

That was what she thought. But if Liam had his way, tomorrow would be the day when she finally went home.

RAIN AWOKE AT DAWN AND opened her eyes only a slit, just as she had last night when Liam had crept into her cave. She’d seen him sneaking toward her and noticed how his eyes focused on the backpack that rested at her feet. His intentions seemed clear: he’d planned to rifle through the backpack.

Searching for information? Or had he known about the jewels and cash? As she had lain inside the sleeping bag, her muscles had tensed.

Then he’d turned around and left her cave.

She’d spent a couple of sleepless hours trying to figure out why he hadn’t grabbed her backpack. Even if she’d tried to stop him, they’d already established that he was physically superior and capable of taking control. Why had he backed off?

The reason, she’d finally decided, was simple: Liam was a decent person who respected her privacy. Even though he was incredibly curious, even though he wanted her to return to Denver, he wouldn’t force his opinion upon her.

Her eyelids opened wider. The soft, pinkish glow of dawn flowed into her cave, and a hint of dewy moisture hung in the air. Such a fine way to start the day! She would miss these mornings.

Nonetheless, Rain knew it was time to leave her mountain habitat; she couldn’t deny that she was Kate Carradine from an old-money family in Denver. While Liam had talked and shown her the photographs, memories of her former life had taken root in her consciousness. She had to go home, to face whatever awaited her in the city.

After sleeping on it, her decision was made. It was time.

Rolling to her stomach, she gazed across the cleared area to where Liam should have been sleeping under the silver solar blanket. She didn’t see him.

Where was he? Throwing aside the sleeping bag, she emerged from her cave and went to the three boulders that sheltered her campsite. After a quick scan of the meadow, she spotted Liam’s red plaid shirt down by the stream. Even at this distance, she noticed the breadth of his shoulders. A mountain man. He was comfortable here…almost as much as she was.

Rain decided to use this time alone in camp to handle an important task. Returning to her cave, she knelt before the backpack and unzipped the bottom pouch. Stacks of hundred-dollar bills tumbled onto the earthen floor. Though she’d already used some of this paper money for kindling, the cash made a good-sized package when she wrapped it tightly in a T-shirt. At the deepest part of her cave, she crammed the bundle into a crevice, then added the pouch full of diamonds and gold. For extra security, she rolled a heavy rock in front of the hiding place, then smoothed the dirt with her hands.

This stash was her insurance policy. If she’d stolen it herself, the treasure was safely tucked away from the police. If, on the other hand, the hunters wanted to get their hands on the cash and jewelry, she had a bargaining chip. Only she would know where it was hidden.

As she came out of the cave dusting off her hands, Liam returned. He looked at her dirty fingers. “Making mud pies for breakfast?”

“Just tidying up,” she said. “After thinking about everything you told me last night, I’ve made my decision. It’s time for me to pack up and leave.”

He rewarded her with a huge smile, and she thought for a moment that he was going to hug her. “You made the right decision, Rain.”

With a sigh, she said, “I guess you should start calling me Kate.”

“All right, Kate. By coming back, you’re going to make a lot of people happy.”

“Not everybody.” For the hunters, her return would not be cause for celebration. “If you don’t mind, I think I should ease back into civilization gradually.”

“Not a problem,” he said. “We’ll go to my cabin first. It’s fairly remote. You can take a shower, have some solid food and get your bearings.”

“I can’t wait.”

BY THE TIME LIAM BROUGHT his Super Cub around for a landing on an unmanned airstrip in the mountains, Kate was bubbling with excitement, unable to decide which delightful thing to do first.

“I want bacon and eggs for breakfast,” she said. “And a candy bar for dessert.”

“We can do that.”

She beamed. All the food in the world was available to her. The idea of going to a grocery store and picking out whatever she wanted seemed utterly astonishing.

“And a shower,” she said. “And clean clothes.”

“You got it.”

Liam would also make sure her family was notified that she was safe and well. He wondered why she hadn’t immediately thought of them but chalked her indifference up to amnesia.

The Cub touched down lightly and slowed. Liam maneuvered until he had the small plane backed up in front of a rough, wooden shed with a door wide enough for the wingspan. He cut the engines. “I’m not going to put her in the hangar. I’ve got my Land Rover parked in back. I was doing a little work on her.”

She peered through the windshield. “Is this your property?”

“The cabin’s back there in the trees.”

When her feet touched the packed gravel, she felt weightless, as though they were still in the air. Kate hitched up her baggy jeans and followed him toward a neat little two-story log cabin with a sloped shake-shingle roof and a wide porch across the front.

“Very nice,” she said, echoing his comment when he’d seen her cave.

“Like I said, it’s remote.”

The terrain was rugged, little more than a clearing in a dense conifer forest. A craggy cliff side formed a natural boundary at the western edge of the grassy field.

She noticed a battered old Jeep with a snowplow attached to the front. “I thought your car was in the hangar.”

“The Rover is parked indoors. I only use this Jeep to clear the road and the airstrip. I’m on the edge of national forest, and the regular plows don’t come up here.”

“The end of the road,” she said. “You like your solitude.”

“Love it.” On the porch, he pulled his keys from his jeans pocket and unlocked the front door. “What do you want to do first? Food or shower?”

“Shower,” she said emphatically. “I haven’t felt hot water in twenty-eight days.”

He whisked her through a living room with a stone fireplace and heavy furniture. “The bathroom is back here. Take your time.”

“I don’t suppose you have any clothes that might fit me.”

“As a matter of fact, my twelve-year-old nephew was up here for a week. I think he left some stuff.” He opened the door to a linen closet and rummaged through the lowest shelf. “Here we go. Jeans and a T-shirt.”

One glance at the tiny jeans convinced her that they’d never fit. And the T-shirt was emblazoned with voluptuous blue lips and gothic-style print. “Does that say Death Wormer?”

“I think it’s Darth Vermin,” Liam said. “They’re not his favorite band anymore. Which is why the shirt was left behind.”

Though she doubted the little-boy clothes would fit, she accepted them with thanks and entered the bathroom. Hesitantly, Kate sidled toward the mirror above the sink. She wasn’t going to be a pretty sight. For twenty-eight days she’d been without moisturizer, body wash, shampoo or conditioner. Her only cleansing products were toothpaste—thank goodness she’d had that—and a large bar of soap which she’d used sparingly, to make it last.

Avoiding the inevitable moment when she confronted her reflection, she turned on the water faucet. Hot water was a luxury she would never take for granted again. She held her hands beneath the flow and slowly washed away the dirt. Her palms felt rough and calloused.

Slowly, she lifted her chin and faced her reflection. Her matted, multicolored hair looked like porcupine quills. Her skin was dirty brown and her eyes seemed huge and wild. She was skinny, seriously scrawny. There was no meat on her cheeks, and the line of her jaw was razor sharp. Her neck was a twig.

She peeled off her clothing. Her hip bones jutted out. Her breasts were almost nonexistent.

Apparently, living off the land was a terrific weight-loss program. However, if the end result meant looking like this, Kate doubted anyone would rush to sign up for a wilderness health spa.

“It could be worse,” she told her reflection. “You could have turned green and grown scales.”

But she didn’t hate the way she looked. In her eyes, she saw a brand new confidence that she’d never had before. Her twenty-eight days in the mountains had given her time for growth. She was wiser—strengthened by the knowledge that she could take care of herself and survive against overwhelming odds.

Life would be different now. She was Kate Carradine, a pampered heiress who had regular appointments for facials, manicures and stylists.

She reached toward her reflection. Her fingers touched the mirror. “Goodbye, Rain.”

Chapter Four

While Kate showered, Liam threw together a sandwich. His mood was pensive and concerned. He’d dragged Kate halfway back to civilization. Now he had to figure out what came next.

The problem was Wayne Silverman. He was still missing, and Kate was, most likely, the last person who had seen him. She was a witness. As such, Liam should have turned her over to the authorities for questioning.

But she was also a victim who was scared to death. She needed protection. His protection.

Her need was enough reason for him to bend the rules and keep her safely hidden away at his cabin. She wouldn’t be much use as a witness, anyway. Not while she couldn’t remember what had happened.

Her memory loss was the second big problem. Amnesia wasn’t much of an alibi; the police would be skeptical. And when the media got hold of her story, all hell would break loose. Might as well call the tabloids right now.

Things would go a lot easier for Kate if she could remember. Last night, when he’d talked about her family, she seemed to have recall, and it stood to reason that more data might jog her memory. Photos and articles. The kind of information that Colorado Crime Consultants might have on file.

On the kitchen phone, he punched in the number for CCC. The office manager, Molly Griffith, greeted him warmly. Though they’d only met once, she remembered him. “You’re the pilot from Grand Lake. What’s up?”

“Is Adam there?”

“He’s out on a case. I can help.”

To tell the truth, Liam was relieved to be talking to Molly instead of her boss. Briggs was a stickler for following the letter of the law. No way would he approve of Kate staying at Liam’s cabin.

“I found Kate Carradine,” he said.

“Dead or alive?” Molly was blunt and straightforward. He suspected that she was all too accustomed to hearing the worst about missing persons.

“Very much alive,” he assured her. “Kate’s in good physical condition.”

“Un-freaking-believable!” Molly enthused. “She’s been missing for nearly a month. It’s amazing that she survived. Where are you?”

“My cabin.”

“How long will it take you to get here? I’ll call her mother right away and—”

“Hold up,” Liam said. “I want you to wait before making the notifications. Kate’s scared and confused. She can’t remember what happened to her.”

“Amnesia?”

“Exactly,” he said. “I need a day or two to calm her down.”

“You know we don’t work like that,” Molly said. “CCC always cooperates with the cops.”

“It’s not the police that worry me,” he said. “There’s going to be a media frenzy. Kate needs time to prepare herself.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone while Molly considered. Then she said, “One more day can’t hurt.”

“Thanks, Molly.”

“Adam won’t be happy about this plan, but I’ll convince him.” Molly had a lot of brass. She needed a strong personality to deal with her boss. “What can I do to help?”

“Like I said, she has amnesia. It’d be useful if Kate could see more information on the Carradine family. Fax me anything you have. Photographs would be good.”

“I put together a file when her mother contacted us,” Molly said. “Consider it faxed.”

He disconnected the call, finished off his sandwich and made himself another. After only one night on Kate’s regimen of weeds and bitter tea, he was starving.

Sandwich in hand, he went outside and stood on the front porch to eat. The view always gave him pleasure. He owned eight acres, but the surrounding national forest made his location seem vast. His nearest neighbors were 2.7 miles down the road, and they weren’t often home. Still, he was able to drive into Grand Lake in about half an hour, and he had all the comforts. His solitude was nothing compared to Kate’s experience.

With the second sandwich devoured, he went back into the house and headed toward his office to pick up the faxes from Molly. As he passed the closed bathroom door, he didn’t hear noise from the shower. “Kate? How are you doing in there?”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a blow-dryer?”

“No.”

“Mousse?”

“Sorry.”

She opened the door. “I’m sure mascara is out of the question.”

She looked damn cute in his nephew’s jeans and T-shirt. Though she was skinny, her curves were unmistakably feminine. Her waist was tiny, and her butt filled out the denim quite nicely. Though her hair was still spiky from being wet, her overall appearance was more tamed. “You look good.”

“Not hardly,” she said. “I don’t care what the Duchess of Windsor said about how you can’t be too thin or too rich. This is too much.”

“Too much thin? Or too much rich?”

“I don’t know about the rich part. You seem to think my family is loaded.”

He remembered his initial destination: the fax machine in his office. “We’ll find out.”

She leaned toward him. Her nose crinkled as she inhaled. “You smell like a ham sandwich. I want one.”

Stepping inside his office, he scooped a handful of pages from the fax. He wasn’t surprised by the speedy response; Molly was efficient.

Then, he led the way to the kitchen. “There’s the fridge. Help yourself.”

She stood with the refrigerator door wide open. “Everything. I want everything.”

Moving at warp speed, she grabbed bread, mayo and lunch meat. Before she put together a sandwich, she was distracted by an orange which she juggled from hand to hand before biting into the rind. In seconds, she had it peeled. Two sections popped into her mouth. The cheese didn’t reach the countertop. Kate folded the slice and devoured it.

“Potato chips!” She snatched the bag from the counter and ripped it open. A couple of chips followed the cheese.

Liam stepped back to avoid being accidentally consumed by this human eating machine. He sat at the kitchen table and watched with amusement as Kate sampled bites of everything she touched. Like a kid given free rein in a candy store, she was tempted by each item, and she ate with blissful abandon.

But it only took a few minutes before she stopped. She placed her hand on her flat stomach and said, “I’m already full.”

Her eyes were so mournful that he chuckled.

“All this great food,” she said, “and I can’t fit more than a couple of bites inside me.”

“There’s plenty of time,” he said. “Take a break. You can eat more later.”

“True.” She brought a can of soda to the kitchen table, popped the tab and took a sip. “I love fizzy things. Soda. Seltzer. Champagne.”

“You’re a little fizzy yourself,” he said.

Her smile of pure satisfaction gratified him. He’d never seen a woman so pleased by so little. He wished they could have more time together. Just the two of them.

As she licked the salt off a potato chip, she circled the table to stand before him. “I’m glad you convinced me to leave the mountains.”

When she leaned toward him and patted his cheek, he inhaled the clean fragrance of soap and shampoo. The electric blue of her eyes sent a jolt through his body. He wanted to pull her closer, to taste her mouth, to discover if she kissed with the same appetite she showed for food.

“Thank you, Liam.” Her voice was soft and a little breathless. “You rescued me.”

“You were doing okay on your own.”

“But you came along at exactly the right moment.” Her smile was honest, warm and fresh as…Rain.

When she had been Rain, she’d belonged solely to him. He was the man who had discovered her, the only person who had seen her mountain cave. He wanted to keep her for himself. In Rain, he had met a woman who matched, even surpassed, his need for quiet and solitude. A woman who embraced the mountain life. A wild woman who was tough, gutsy and not afraid to be alone.

For now, Liam needed to deal with her other identity.

“All right, Kate.” He handed her the faxes. “I contacted CCC, and they sent some photos to help you remember.”

She sat at the table and looked at the photograph on top. “A wedding picture.”

Kate recognized herself in that gorgeous, lacy gown. Then she looked at the face of the groom. “Jonathan Proctor,” she murmured. “We’re divorced.”

“Sorry,” Liam said.

“Don’t be. It wasn’t a good marriage. We did a lot of fighting.”

Unpleasant memories flowed like a river across the parched surface of her mind. She and Jonathan had seldom seen eye to eye. He’d coped by shutting down and refusing to speak, except to criticize.

She had a very clear image of herself and Jonathan sitting at opposite ends of a long, ornate table. Neither of them said a word.

“The divorce,” she said, “was practically the only thing we agreed about. He still works at RMS. In fact, he’s the CEO.”

Liam gave her a disbelieving look. “Are you telling me that your ex-husband runs the Carradine family business?”

“He’s good at his job, and I hardly ever see him. Jonathan handles the business and development projects. My work is on the charitable side.”

As she focused on a photograph of herself and a Little League baseball team, a pleasant warmth rose inside her. She enjoyed working on fund-raising events, many of which were athletic in nature since Rocky Mountain Suppliers was, essentially, a sporting-goods company.

Pointing to a group photo, she picked out a face. “This is Rachel Robertson.”

“You mentioned her before,” Liam said.

“She runs a homeless shelter, and she’s helping me with plans to set up a mountain camp for disadvantaged kids. Some of the money from the RMS summer gala was going to finance it.”

“The summer gala?”

“It should be happening in a couple of weeks.” If the plans for the gala had been derailed by her absence, Kate would never forgive herself. Several charities depended on contributions raised by the formal dinner, dance and silent auction. “It’s a black-tie event.”

“Not my style,” he said.

“Maybe it should be. You’d look great in a tux.”

Actually, he’d look great in almost anything. As Liam gazed down at the faxed pages, she studied his profile. Dark stubble outlined his firm jaw. Beneath his rugged brow, his deep-set, hazel eyes glowed with health.

He pointed to a picture. “Are these the Williams sisters, from tennis?”

“Venus and Serena,” she said. “Right.”

“And you’re standing between them. You were in good shape.”

The photo showed her as a sunshine blonde in a white tennis dress. Her teeth were perfect. Her skin was perfect. She wondered if she’d ever be so carefree again.

With Liam, she sorted through other photos of celebrity golf tournaments and tennis matches. For nearly an hour, she stared at picture after picture, waiting for a memory revelation that simply wouldn’t come. “It’s no use,” she said. “I can’t remember why I needed to stay in hiding.”

“Maybe more food.”

“Always a good solution.”

They took a break and made hamburgers. Liam took his turn in the shower.

Then, it was back to the photos. Kate picked up another wedding photo. It was her mother with her husband of two years, Peter Rowe.

Liam said, “It might help you remember if you talk your way through these pictures.”

She nodded. “This is my mother, Elizabeth. She remarried two years ago. His name is Peter.”

“And?”

“He’s a handsome guy, kind of reminds me of Robert Wagner. He seems to make my mother happy, but I never really liked him. Probably, I resent him because nobody could ever take the place of my father. Especially not Peter.”

“Why not?”

“Dad was totally into the outdoors. Peter is all about designer shoes and monogrammed shirts. He’s happiest with a crystal champagne flute in his hand. He used to call me The Brat.”

“You don’t seem bratty to me,” Liam said.

“I have a temper,” she admitted. “A legendary bad temper.”

“Like when you took a shot at me?”

“I wasn’t angry then,” she informed him. “Shooting trespassers is practical.”

His grin was ironic but also charming. And she was comfortable enough to respond with a smile of her own. Comfortable. Peaceful.

She glided a fingertip across the smooth maple of the tabletop. She liked being here. His cabin was cozy and quiet. She’d forgotten how pleasant it was to be inside a warm house, sitting on a padded chair, drinking soda pop. Nice and normal.

She exhaled a sigh. “Before you came along, I had convinced myself that I’d never leave the forest. Now, here I am. In a cabin. With you.”

He reached across the table. His large hand rested atop hers. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Though she suspected that Liam was only being kind and reassuring, she couldn’t help wondering if a deeper relationship was possible. She wouldn’t mind if he pulled her close in an embrace. It wouldn’t hurt her feelings if he kissed her.

Oh, good grief! Was she falling for the man who had rescued her? Wasn’t that the biggest cliché in the world?

“I still can’t believe it,” she said. “Yesterday, the most important thing was to catch a fish.”

“Tomorrow will be harder,” he said. “You’ll have to face the media.”

“And my family.”

“You don’t sound happy about that.” His eyes were curious. “Does meeting your family worry you?”

“I feel terribly guilty. They’re going to be angry and…” Her voice faded as a prickle of fear teased the edge of her consciousness. Why would she be scared of her own family?

“Back to the memories,” she said, picking up a picture of herself with her stepbrother. “This is Tom. Peter’s son. He’s gotten interested in the family business, attends board meetings and usually is on my side.”

“Does the board have a lot of disagreements?”

“Of course we do. RMS has a lot of money.”

“Tell me about Tom. Is he athletic like you?”

“There’s only one sport he excels at. Tom is an expert marksman.”

Staring at the slightly blurred fax, she remembered a site trip with Tom. They had been looking at several mountain acres proposed for development. Her stepbrother had insisted on bringing his rifle, a Remington. In her mind, she saw him bracing the stock against his shoulder. Peering intently through his shaggy, dark brown bangs, he’d aimed and…

Gunfire rattled through the forest behind her. The shooters came nearer and nearer, but she couldn’t see them. An oppressive weight pressed down upon her. Her arms were heavy. She couldn’t carry on. Not one more step. Her legs ached. She sank to the earth, beaten. Sweat poured down her forehead. She couldn’t move but she had to go forward. Into the flames. Into the searing fire.

“Kate, what is it? What do you remember?”

“A forest fire.” Her memory faded. “It seemed like I was in the middle of it.”

“Go on,” Liam encouraged.

“I was carrying something.”

“Your backpack?” he suggested.

“Heavier.” She shook her head. “I can’t see it. This is more like a feeling.”

“What else?”

“The hunters,” she said. “I don’t know why they’re after me. Damn it, why? What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything,” Liam said.

But her backpack held stacks of hundred-dollar bills and a pouch of jewelry. She remembered a man being shot. In her mind, she saw his blood. “What if I did? What if I’m a criminal?”

“I’d be surprised,” he said. “You don’t fit the typical profile for a perp.”

“A perp? How do you know about perps?”

“Remember, Kate, before I moved to Grand Lake, I worked for the Denver D.A.’s office.”

He’d been a prosecutor—not the best person to tell about possible criminal activities. Nervously, she asked, “What’s the perp profile?”

“Not you,” he said. “You’re from an upper-class background, haven’t been in trouble with the law before and you’re socially active.”

She took a potato chip from the bag on the table and studied it before nibbling at the edge. “None of those things are a guarantee that I wouldn’t do something I might regret.”

“Everybody is capable of lapses in judgment.” He tipped back in his chair. His arms folded across his chest. Those sexy hazel eyes steadily regarded her. “You’ve brought up the topic of criminal behavior a couple of times. Why?”

Because I might be a thief. Or a murderer. She looked away; it wasn’t easy to withhold information from him. “I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Both,” she said. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“I can’t answer that question until you tell me the whole truth.”

She wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not until she was certain that she hadn’t shot Wayne Silverman or stolen the loot that was now buried in her cave. “I’m not lying to you.”

“But you’re holding back.”

His scrutiny made her nervous. She got up from the table, walked a few paces, then turned toward the front windows. “I need to go outside. I’m feeling cooped up.”

“Holding back information will do that to you.”

Liam shoved back his chair and rose from the table. Her refusal to come clean was beginning to tick him off. What was she hiding? He wanted to help her, to believe her. But he didn’t have the patience to play evasive games.

On the front porch, he leaned against the railing and looked out on his land. Lazy clouds drifted across the afternoon skies. At the end of the day, the pace of life slowed to a crawl. Even in the mountains, where there were no time clocks, the squirrels took a recess from their constant foraging and the birds returned to their nests.

Liam glanced toward his Super Cub, gleaming white in the sunlight. Probably, he ought to move it inside the shed. But it didn’t look like rain. The Cub would be okay for the night.

Besides, they’d be taking off early tomorrow, heading back to Denver. Kate had to return to her family. He’d probably never see her again. In the life she’d been describing, there was no place for a man like him.

“It’s odd,” she said. “We’ve only known each other for twenty-four hours, but it feels like a lot longer.”

“A lifetime.” Long enough for him to be annoyed with her.

Her sharp chin lifted as she stared straight ahead, concentrating on an unknown future beyond the horizon. Her short hair ruffled in the breeze, and the corner of her mouth pulled into an adorable little frown.

His irritation faded. He’d known her long enough to forgive, to accept her shifts in attitude. Long enough to know that he liked this woman.

“Can I ask you a favor, Liam?”

He nodded.

“When we get to Denver,” she said, “promise me that you won’t leave me alone.”

“You don’t need me to hold your hand.”

“I’d feel safer if you stayed with me.”

He couldn’t deny her request. If she truly was in danger—a possibility that he was beginning to doubt—he would protect her. Grudgingly, he promised, “I’ll stay at your side. For a while.”

But not for long. His place was here, in the mountains. Once they got to town, she’d slide back into her upper-class life. Kate Carradine would be fine. Just fine.

Suddenly, her back stiffened. Her thin neck craned. “Someone’s coming.”

He glanced toward the road. “I don’t think so.”

“Listen. They’re getting closer.”

“Kate, you’re mistaken.”

She grasped his arm and tugged at his sleeve. “Can’t you hear the birds? We need to get out of here. We’ve got to run.”

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