she used for reflection on her daily Bible reading.
She never thought she’d use this trail to flee death.
“Hey!” a voice shouted.
Ignore it, she coached herself. No reason to panic about what might happen next.
Then she realized she’d be easy to follow if she stayed on the trail, so she went rogue and ran deeper into the woods over juniper shrubs and sagebrush.
As she trudged farther into the mass of flora, she said a silent prayer.
Dear Lord, please help me protect this innocent child.
Another gunshot rang out, this one sounding like it was fired outside. Really? They thought shooting at her would convince her to stop running?
Adrenaline flooded her body. She ran faster, glancing over her shoulder only once. She broke through the mass of forest to a clearing.
And was looking below at a ten-foot drop to a riverbank. This was where she’d wait for help to arrive.
She laid Mia on the ground, adjusted the baby carrier around her own shoulders, picked up the child and strapped her in place across Carly’s chest. Carly would need both hands to lower herself and Mia safely to the riverbank.
A sharp burst of wind chilled her to the core. Casting one last glance toward the Bremerton property, and seeing no one, she planned her descent. She kneeled and looked for a safe way down. A few rocks protruded from the side of the drop-off. That’s where she’d plant her feet. Digging her fingers into the hard earth, she turned and got into position to lower herself.
The muted echo of sirens wailed in the far distance. Panic rushed through her, but she was no longer a child, no longer a part of that family. This time police might even help her.
If she could only remain invisible long enough for police to arrest the gunmen.
She lowered her right foot, still clinging to a rock at the edge of the cliff, her lifeline. Her foot steady on a rock below, she found another spot to hold on to, lowered her right hand and grabbed it.
Her foot slipped.
In what felt like slow motion, she fell, landing on the riverbank of rocks. Wind knocked from her lungs and she struggled to breathe, to think. Thoughts eluded her.
“Open your eyes,” a deep male voice said.
How...how had the gunman reached her so quickly? Had she knocked her head and fallen unconscious?
She couldn’t open her eyes, couldn’t bear to see a gun pointed at her.
At Mia.
“No,” she groaned.
“Let go of the baby.”
* * *
Brody “Whit” Whittaker kneeled on the rocky shore next to the blond woman and child. He’d pulled up to his half brother’s house and heard gunshots crack across the property.
What had Harry gotten himself into?
Whit covertly made his way onto the property and saw a young woman take off into the woods carrying a child, with a gunman trailing her. Whit followed them, hoping to protect the woman and child from the assailant.
“Ma’am, can you hear me?” Whit studied the fair-skinned, twentysomething woman, who clung to the child. Harry’s child, Whit’s half niece.
A child Whit hadn’t met because of the complications of family.
“Ma’am—”
She gasp-coughed. “Don’t touch her.”
Although he heard a siren wailing in the distance, he knew it would take a few minutes before they arrived on the scene.
A lot could happen in a few minutes.
It sounded like the perps had already done some major damage, breaking into the house and potentially shooting his half brother and wife.
Whit had to shelve his panic over losing his brother and focus on protecting the baby and the woman clinging to her. Whit assumed she was the nanny, an innocent caught up in a mess. A mess of Harry’s own making?
As a young man, Harry tended to make bad choices and refused to accept advice or help from his family. Whit and Harry had been estranged for more than ten years when Whit decided last fall it was time to mend things between them. He thought they were making progress, but after a few unreturned phone calls Whit grew worried that Harry was in trouble and was too proud to ask for help.
Whit followed his gut and decided to make an unannounced visit. Good thing he showed up when he did.
The baby squeaked. She was his blood, his family, and Whit wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
Apparently, the nanny felt the same way.
“Ma’am, my name is Brody Whittaker. Harry Bremerton is my brother. You can trust me. I’m in town to visit Harry and I heard the gunshots. I’d like to help.”
That got her to open her eyes. “Brother?”
“Yes, ma’am, half brother. I’m assuming you’re the nanny?”
She nodded her affirmation. “He... I didn’t know he had a brother.”
Not surprising. Harry had kept his distance from Whit and the family, claiming they never understood or accepted him. Whit could see how Harry would get tired of the disapproving sighs and unwelcomed advice the family felt necessary to offer on a regular basis.
Whit cocked his head and thought he heard something. “We need to move. Okay?”
She still didn’t seem like she trusted him. Understandable. She’d no doubt experienced a violent and traumatic attack. Her adrenaline must be pounding like water hitting the rocks at the bottom of Jasper Falls.
“I’m not sure what to say to convince you I’m one of the good guys,” he started. “I noticed a small boat down the shoreline. We can use that to get away.”
She closed her eyes. That couldn’t be good, Whit thought. Then her lips moved slightly as if she was whispering to herself.
He pushed aside the thought that any second now a gunman would peer below and pick them off like cans on a split rail fence.
“Ma’am—”
“Please help me up,” she said, opening her eyes.
This time he couldn’t help but notice the remarkable blend of colors: green, gold and brown.
“Would you like me to carry the baby?”
She put out her hand. “No, thank you.”
With a nod, he offered his good arm and helped her stand. When she wavered, he gripped her shoulders to keep her vertical. He quickly released her since
