“Now wouldn’t be the time to ask.”
Mary inhaled sharply, all the blood rushing from her head.
Nick shook his head. “Calm down. I told you, I’m here to help your father. Now, will you shut up and let me do my job?”
She let go of the breath she held and sagged with relief. “Why didn’t you tell me you brought your gun?”
“It didn’t come up.” His attention focused on the woods around and ahead of them. After a long moment, he stood. “Stay here.”
Hugging the side of the hill and staying in the dark shadows of the trees, Nick moved forward like a thief on the prowl, his footsteps muffled by thick snow.
Mary huddled next to the spruce for all of a minute before concern for Nick and her father drove her out of hiding to follow in Nick’s footprints. Only for her it was more wading through the heavy snow than stepping.
What if something had happened to her father? What if whoever had set off the explosion at Reuben’s had a similar fate awaiting Nick or her father at the lodge?
Nick rounded the edge of the hill and disappeared, leaving Mary alone in the near dark, the cold seeping through her jacket like the hand of death. She shivered and stumbled, breaking her fall by grabbing a low-hanging tree branch. Snow shook off and plopped onto her head. She brushed it from her face and stared ahead.
Losing sight of Nick made the wilderness seem even more vast, unyielding and treacherous. Every snap of a twig, every rustle of dried leaves made her jump until she found herself running, slogging through the snow to catch up with the man and his gun.
Nestled in a stand of trees, a faint trickle of smoke rising from the stone chimney, stood a ramshackle one-room shack her father had affectionately named Moose Lodge.
Could her father be there? Where had Nick gone? Mary ran forward, desperate to find her father and stop the craziness. Abandoning the side of the hill for the path, she ran toward the cabin.
Before she had gone ten feet, something hit her from the side, then picked her up and tossed her into another huge snowbank. She fell on her back, the wind knocked from her, opening her eyes just as a large object landed on top of her.
Chapter 7
“I thought I told you to stay put.” Nick’s heart thundered inside his chest. He’d been studying the shack, searching for signs of habitation, when he’d heard someone running up behind him.
His first instinct was to shoot first and ask questions later. When he’d turned his weapon on his pursuer, he recognized the powder-blue jacket and snowpants.
As quickly as he recognized her, he realized she was running right for a cabin that could be occupied by a killer, waiting for just this kind of opportunity. He’d done the only thing he could think to do. He’d knocked her off the trail and behind a tree, out of sight and hopefully out of target range.
“Get. Off. Me,” she forced out between wheezing breaths.
Nick rolled to the side and up onto his haunches, alert for any movement from the shack and nearby. “How am I supposed to protect you if you don’t do as I tell you?” he hissed.
“My father could be in there.” She lay on her back for another moment, sucking in a deep breath before sitting up.
“I take it this is Moose Lodge?” He leaned out from the trunk of the tree, his pistol in the lead. “Not much of a lodge.”
“Yeah. My dad and his buddies spend their weekends fishing from here in the summer.”
Nick sat back on his heels behind the tree. “If I go check things out, can I count on you to stay still?” He focused the full intensity of his gaze on her.
A glazed look formed over Mary’s eyes, and she nodded.
As if he’d believe she’d stay put. She’d chased after him on the trail. “I won’t leave if I think you’ll run out like an idiot again.”
Her back stiffened. “I’m not an idiot.”
“Then don’t put yourself in harm’s way.” He couldn’t help himself. The hurt doe-eyed look she gave him, followed by the stubborn set of her jaw made him want to kiss her.
Despite his best judgment, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Before he could deepen the contact and forget his mission, he jumped to his feet and ran toward the house.
His soldier training kicking in, he hugged the trees surrounding the clearing and zigzagged to limit the targeting experience of a would-be assassin.
The clearing remained silent, snow falling in thick waves, the wind lifting and swirling the white flakes to slap against his face. His passage didn’t stir human, bird or animal. He was alone. Or was he?
