help a stranger.
“I won’t...” the man whispered. “I won’t let them hurt you, Emily.”
“Shh,” she soothed. She needed him to stay quiet, yet she wondered if the pain from his arm wound or head injury was making him agitated.
“He’s here! I know he’s here!” a man’s voice echoed.
They were getting close.
The gravity of her situation suddenly hit her. The wounded man had been shot in a public park in the middle of the day. These men were brutal killers undeterred by anything or anyone.
Her mind started down that terrifying road, the one that led to panic, so she took a slow deep breath and counted to five. Then exhaled, also counting to five. This wasn’t just about Bree protecting herself anymore. This was about a wounded man being hunted like an animal.
With her free hand she fingered the silver locket she had bought with her first check as groundskeeper for Echo Mountain Resort. To Bree the dove engraved on the front not only represented the Holy Spirit, but also freedom, freedom to live her life without the cloak of fear clouding her mind, fear of being hurt, fear of making a mistake.
She hoped this wasn’t her biggest mistake, she thought, stroking the blue-eyed man’s hair to keep him calm.
“You can’t run forever!” a man threatened from above.
Bree stilled. Held her breath.
“He’s probably dead,” another man with a husky voice said.
“We need proof.”
“Forget it. We don’t have proper gear to go climbing down mountains.”
“Then we’ll get gear and come back.”
“Are you nuts?” the husky voice challenged. “By tomorrow his body will be torn apart by wild animals. Done.”
“He’s gonna want proof.”
“Wait, what’s this?”
Her breath caught in her throat. Had they found something that exposed Bree’s hiding place?
“Blood,” the husky-voiced man said.
“I told you I nailed him.”
“There, it leads over the side.”
“You think he’s down there?”
Bree closed her eyes and prayed they weren’t looking directly down at the plateau. She couldn’t be sure that she and Mr. Blue Eyes were completely hidden from view.
“Look down there.”
Bree’s mind cataloged everything she had in her backpack: water, snacks, compass, map, fire starter, extra clothes and first-aid kit. Wasn’t there something she could use to defend herself?
“I don’t see anything,” the husky voice said.
Blue Eyes groaned, gripping his injured arm.
“Shh,” she soothed as best she could, considering the terror filling her chest.
“Did you hear that?”
Silence rang in Bree’s ears. She waited. Patted the wounded man’s forehead, hoping her touch would soothe him, quiet him.
“You’re imagining things,” the husky voice said.
“I’m not imagining that blood.”
“He went over the edge and hit bottom.”
“Or he’s right down there.”
“Where?”
Bree stilled. They’d figured it out.
With unusual calm, she dug quietly in her pack, her hands searching for something, anything she could use as a weapon.
Rely on yourself and only yourself. That had been her mantra for at least six months following her breakup with Thomas. It had been an isolated existence, but good training for emergency situations.
Like this one.
“You want to go down there and check?” the husky voice said. “Go ahead. I didn’t hear anything.”
“Then you need to get your hearing checked.”
Bree’s fingers grazed across her snack bag and water bottle, then brushed across the canister of pepper spray she’d purchased after the mugging.
It was dumb luck that she’d forgotten to take it out of her backpack after moving back to the country. She slipped it out and put her finger on the button.
Calmed her breathing.
Prepared herself for the worst. Although she had martial arts training, this small area wasn’t the ideal space to spar with a violent man.
“You got rope?” a male voice said.
“It’s not that far,” Husky countered. “But I think you’re wasting your time.”
Bree’s pulse sped up. Her heart pounded against her chest.
She could do this. She could defend herself and Mr. Blue Eyes from his attackers.
You naive little country girl, Thomas’s words haunted her.
“Emily,” Blue Eyes whispered.
“I heard it,” Husky said. “Go get him.”
Bree held her breath and prayed.
With a shaky finger on the canister, Bree reminded herself to breathe. Would there be enough pepper spray to immobilize two men if they both came down?
I can do this. I am a strong woman.
The echo of barking dogs sparked relief in Bree’s chest. The SAR team was closing in on her location.
“Wait, listen. Dogs, a pack of them,” the husky-voiced guy said.
“Wild dogs?”
“No, idiot, search-and-rescue dogs. I saw their van at the trailhead. We’ve gotta get out of here.”
“What about—”
“Forget it. Let’s go.”
A few minutes passed, silence ringing in Bree’s ears. The gunmen weren’t coming down to investigate; she and Blue Eyes were safe for the time being. Now, to make sure he didn’t lose too much blood while they waited to be rescued.
The
