do the trick, then decided it was too light. His forearm was the best choice, though the risk of collision and broken bones was greater. He waved the cyclist forward, goading him with a look of defiance.
The rider, his features hidden by a helmet, didn’t waver for a second. He came right at him, engine roaring.
Jonas jumped clear at the last second, throwing out his arm to clothesline the punk. But fate wasn’t on his side. The bike suddenly fishtailed, and the rear wheel whipped around. The rider’s boot caught him in the shin, spinning Jonas out of position. His fist ricocheted off the top of the biker’s helmet as he passed.
The man raced away, fishtailing again about fifty feet farther down the road, then disappearing in the direction of the highway.
His leg throbbing with pain and his fist numb, Jonas tried to locate the man who’d run off on foot. He was out of sight now, and probably making a beeline for his partner on the bike.
Jonas sprinted after the cycle, suspecting the biker would have to stop soon to pick up his cohort. After running another fifty yards, Jonas spotted the bike through the trees, and saw the second man jump behind the driver. As the motorcycle raced off in a cloud of dust, Jonas knew he’d never catch them now, even if he went back for his truck.
Coming to a stop, he opened his cell phone and punched out the number of his contact in the sheriff’s department, Sergeant Charlie Nez. Charlie’s code name was Ha’asídí, Watchman. After identifying himself and giving him the highlights of the incident, Jonas returned the phone to his jacket pocket and jogged back toward the house.
He was picking up the object his first attacker had dropped—a Taser—when he heard running footsteps. Just then Emily came around the eight-foot-high stack of sheeting, a double-barreled shotgun gripped in her hand.
“They’re gone,” he assured her quickly.
“What about you? Are you all right?” she asked. “I called the sheriff’s department and they said they were sending a deputy.”
“I called them, too,” he said, noting that she’d wrapped her fingers around the trigger guard. If it was loaded, and the safety off… “Do you know how to use that?”
She looked down at the weapon, then drew it closer, fortunately moving her grip away from the trigger area. “How hard can it be? Point and shoot.”
He gently took the weapon from her hands and thumbed the safety on. “Nice. Remington over/under. Where did you get it?”
“It belonged to my dad. He used to go duck hunting. I took it to my trailer a few days ago, just for safety’s sake. I don’t really know if it’s loaded or not,” she added. “I’m not sure how to check. The gun was always off-limits to Mom and me.”
Jonas opened the action and checked. “It isn’t loaded,” he answered. “What were you planning to do if it wouldn’t fire?”
“It’s nice and heavy. I’d use it as a club.”
“To protect me?” he asked, doing his best, but not quite succeeding to bite back a smile.
“Of course. Anyone who got whacked on the head with this would be out of it for a while.”
He took a step closer to her, then brushed a stray lock of hair away from her eyes. Hearing her draw in an unsteady breath, he felt a surge of pure masculine satisfaction.
Emily moved away and cleared her throat. “We’ve had two vandalism attempts here in the past twenty-four hours. What’s going on? The bad guys don’t normally come back to a crime scene, do they?”
“It depends on how serious they are about putting you out of business.”
“But why? An inn brings visitors and more business to the community. This doesn’t make sense. Were the men who came today the same ones who were here last night?”
“Probably. The boot and shoe prints match, and the body types fit, at least with height and build.” He glanced down at the Taser, studying it. “This was meant to incapacitate me, and maybe you, as well, while they did whatever it was they came for.”
“Vandalism wasn’t their only objective today. They want to scare me into leaving,” she said flatly. “Otherwise, they would have waited until I’d left on an errand, and wouldn’t have brought a Taser along.”
“I agree. Like last night, scaring you was one of their objectives. If they’d wanted to kill either one of us, they’d have come better armed.” He paused for several moments, looking for anything on the Taser that might give them a clue. The serial numbers had been removed, and the insulated grip probably meant no fingerprints could be recovered.
“Do you think they’ll try again?” With effort she kept her voice steady.
“Yeah,” Jonas grunted. “That’s why you should reconsider your plans. Since construction hasn’t started yet, why don’t you return what materials you can, take a small loss, then wait them out? Give me time to work. Afterward, when things are settled, you can continue.”
“No, the clock’s ticking too fast—” She abruptly stopped speaking.
“We’re on the same side, Em. Don’t shut me out,” he said, more convinced than ever that she was hiding something. Turning to face her, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. “I’ve earned your trust many times over. Talk to me.”
As she looked into his eyes, her thoughts suddenly became muddled and her heart began doing flip-flops. Forcing a steadiness she wouldn’t have thought possible into her voice, she answered him. “I’d like to trust you completely, Jonas. I really would. But here’s the thing. I never thought I’d see you again. Then, out of nowhere, here you are.”
She paused, pushing her hands deep inside her jacket pockets so she wouldn’t be tempted to reach out and touch him. “Though you’ve saved my life twice, something tells me there’s more to your return into my life than you’ve said. Until I know enough to fill in all those blanks, there’s no room for total trust.”
“No one can ever fill in all the blanks of another person’s life. Things just don’t work that way.” He leaned against the house, thumbs hooked into the belt loops of his jeans. “You need to make some decisions, and here’s something you should consider. Your father spent a lifetime working for the tribe. He trusted us. Can you afford to do anything less?”
“Life’s been…different to me. It’s taught me to be cautious.”
Jonas couldn’t fault her for that. In that one way, they were alike.
“But you’re right. Once these people realize I won’t run away, they’re going to come after me with everything they’ve got.”
“No one’s going to hurt you, Em.” He brushed her cheek with the palm of his hand and felt the gentle tremor that traveled through her. “I’ll be right there with you every step of the way.”
Chapter Three
Emily sat in what had been the living room of her parent’s house. Across the card table from her, in a metal folding chair identical to her own, sat uniformed deputy Michael Dusenberry. Sergeant Nez, whom she’d spoken to earlier
