on his injuries, that could also be dangerous for him.
The mangled door creaked when she pulled it open and then toppled to the snow-covered ground. Sierra yelped and jumped out of the way. She could enter only on the passenger side because the other side of the plane was hanging near the ledge. She couldn’t reach it.
“Help,” the man called from inside.
Fear tried to seize her but she had to remain calm and focused, especially if she was going to have to do this alone. She leaned into the cockpit and inched onto the passenger seat to get a better look at the man. Blood covered his forehead and temple from a gash. It oozed from his lips. He likely had internal injuries.
“Can you hear me? If you can, give me your hand.”
Maybe she could grab onto him and pull him out through this side of the plane. Medical personnel would go at this much differently, but there wasn’t time to wait.
The man’s eyes popped open. Those eyes. They peered at her and into her and through her. His face was almost unrecognizable under the blood and bruising but she had never forgotten those eyes.
Sierra froze. Damien Novack. Air whooshed from her. She couldn’t breathe.
No. It couldn’t be. “What… What are you doing here?” The question squeaked out of her making her sound feeble.
Afraid.
Somehow, even though he was injured and probably dying, he managed to offer her a sinister, bloody smile. To her horror, he lifted a weapon. Aimed it straight at her.
Screaming, she ducked as gunfire exploded then froze in place. Where was the sheriff? She glanced up hoping she’d see him coming over the ridge. Instead, she spotted footprints, barely visible as the relentless snow continued to bury them. The prints led away from the plane and tracked along the ridge until they disappeared completely.
Someone else had been on the plane.
Then she heard what sounded like the weapon tumbling from Damien’s hand. She could hardly believe he had been able to shoot to begin with, given his obviously severe injuries. His anger and need to see her dead had been enough to drive him.
Heart pounding, Sierra peeked inside the cab again and Damien’s eyes tracked her. “Doesn’t matter that I missed. He’s coming for you,” he said.
“Who… Who is coming?” Dread filled her.
“You know who. He came for you before. This time he won’t fail.”
Raul Novack, Damien’s brother.
Moments ago, she thought there couldn’t be anything worse than losing someone she was trying to save. But now she realized that wasn’t true. There was something worse. Indecision warred inside of her. She truly did not want to help this man. He’d perpetrated countless evils and if she helped him to survive, there could be more victims down the road.
But she couldn’t serve as judge and jury. She couldn’t take a life or refuse to give her best to save someone in danger—God would know, even if no one else did. She grabbed the weapon he’d tried to kill her with and set it aside.
Regardless of the fear that tried to strangle her, Sierra reached for him. “The plane is going to fall. Take my hand or you’re going to die.”
He coughed up more blood. “I’m as good as dead anyway.”
Then his face went still. His eyes blank.
He was gone, and she knew it. He’d known he was going to die and he cared only about attacking her with his gun and his intimidating threats.
Samson barked. The plane shifted. Sierra reached for the man she knew to already be dead, but it was no use. She couldn’t free him. The plane moved and she realized she had only seconds to escape.
She backed out of the open doorway and ducked just before the remaining broken edges of the wing could hit her. Still, metal scraped her body, eliciting a cry of pain, and snagging her coat. If she didn’t get free, the plane would try to take her over the ledge too, causing serious injury when the wire rope wouldn’t release her.
“I got you!” The sheriff appeared and slashed the arm of her coat away from her body and gripped her arms. “I got you,” he said again, breathless.
She slumped to the ground, the adrenaline whooshing out of her body.
Samson licked her and whined, warming her frozen cheeks, and comforting the icy cold fear that had stabbed through her.
Damien Novack had been here. And he hadn’t been alone.
She let her gaze follow the tracks and, in the distance, along the tree line, she noticed that a man stood watching. Damien’s brother, Raul—
He’s coming for you…
Bryce Elliott checked into his hotel across the street from the Crescent Springs Toy Store—the reason Sierra had given for returning to her hometown. Her father had been struggling to keep up with the store, and needed her help. Bryce had suspected health issues were involved too but Sierra hadn’t said.
That wasn’t the only thing she hadn’t said. Bryce believed that her father was only part of the reason she’d given up her detective job with the Boulder police department. He suspected that Sierra had never gotten over the night Raul attacked her, even though she had been given the go ahead to return to work.
But no one else knew her as well as Bryce. She’d needed to escape Boulder, and maybe even escape Bryce. The place and the people served as reminders to her of what had happened. He was glad she had found a way to move on. Before she’d made that physical move from Boulder to Crescent Springs, though, she’d made an emotional move when she pushed him away. They’d been close and had been growing closer every day. He’d taken a risk with her, putting his heart on the line for the first time since being utterly rejected by Rebecca, a woman he thought he loved a couple of years before he met Sierra. But with Sierra, he’d been ready to try again. Then Raul and the night of violence happened. After that, everything between Bryce and Sierra had changed. He had sensed her slipping away from him, and had experienced the pain of rejection all over again.
He cared about her and was here for her, but that didn’t mean he would let himself fall for her. Definitely not. None of what had happened between them should matter now.
What did matter now was that she was in danger, and Bryce wouldn’t let her go through that alone.
He sucked up his nerve and crossed the recently plowed street in the throes of an ice festival, presumably the biggest event of the year for the small out-of-the-way town in southwest Colorado. Other than ice climbers, most people opted to visit Telluride and Purgatory in Durango to ski. Crescent Springs offered an ice park to celebrate the ice climbing sport—beginners and professionals from around the world came to the small town to climb the frozen waterfalls of the gorge.
Moisture surged on his palms as he drew near the toy store he’d seen only on the website before this moment. Bryce drew in a deep breath and pushed open the door. How would she react when she saw him? That question had kept him company as he
