Page 2 of Finding Forever

I push downhill, tree to tree. Then I see him, a spot of orange against white. I take my shot, grimly satisfied by a yelp of pain. Not a kill shot, but I winged him. I plow down the slope, wading through thigh-high drifts. My pants are soaked and it’s fucking freezing.

I’m at the tree line with about twenty yards of open space between me and the porch. A dog’s barking inside.

I search for another option. Circling the inn would bring me to where I figure the front door is located. But that would give Briggs the opportunity to get to the side door and gain access to the inn. Fuck.

He’s somewhere to my right, so I skirt left, using a shed for cover. I’ve cut the distance, but now I’ve got to make a run for it. Even with the blizzard, I can’t count on him not seeing me.

I take a deep breath. Odds are maybe sixty/forty, and not in my favor. The realization hits that beyond the people I work with, and a few friends, no one would mourn my death. I make a deal with myself: if I survive, I’ll make some serious life changes.

I radio in. If Briggs nails me, they’ll know where to look for my body.

Then I run. Vaulting through the snow, lungs burning. I fire toward Briggs to keep him pinned.

Halfway across, pain detonates in my shoulder. The world spins. I slam into an icy drift, breath gone, stars exploding behind my eyes.

Shit, shit, shit.

Get up. Move.

Don’t give him the chance to double tap.

I blink snow from my eyes.

A figure stands above me. Not Briggs. A woman. Snowflakes catch in her hair, a long gun braced to her shoulder. Calm. Steady.

A deafening blast rends the air.

CHAPTER TWO

Kit - minutes earlier

I study the scene outside with a little thrill. Most people hate being snowed in. Me? I freaking love it. Don’t get me wrong, I like people. For the most part. But give me three days holed up in my little inn and I’m a happy camper.

Only now anticipation is shadowed by danger. Potential danger, anyway. Fingers crossed I won’t be affected.

About an hour ago, an alert lit up my phone. An armed and dangerous fugitive is in the area. This was followed by calls from Police Chief Beckett Donovan, then my BFF, Wren Cooper, both urging me to take precautions.

More precisely, Wren begged me to pack a bag and head to Peace & Love Farm where she and her sister are riding out the storm. Safety in numbers and all that. I assume Gideon, her cop boyfriend and Beckett’s brother, is out with the search teams.

Beckett understood my situation though. The amount of snow already accumulated is more than the plow on my truck can handle. I’m not going anywhere.

I’m prepared. Generator fuel stored neatly in the shed. Firewood stacked on the porch. Pantry full. Most important? I’d hit the library, and my TBR pile could bury a man. Exactly how I like it.

Not that I’ll have much time to read. I’m excited to start painting and see how my vision for the inn’s remodel comes together. Tomorrow, I want to begin the Evergreen Room in warm white trim, soft mist-pine walls. I’ll use cedar brown and sage accents with charcoal touches in the rug, pillows, and the beautiful throw I found at market night. Each of the six rooms will get its own palette. The goal is cozy and inviting, a retreat where guests will feel welcome and cared for.

The inn is closed for the winter so I can renovate, and thanks to YouTube and a stack of how-to books, I can handle most of the work myself.

I’m pouring hot water over a teabag when Penny sits up beside me, ears perked. I check the windows again, arms crossed, fingers tapping my elbow. Am I nervous? Of course. But I’m not helpless. I’ve got Aunt Gertie’s twelve-gauge loaded and within reach.

Despite Wren’s worry, I’m good. She’s certainly good. This morning she’d called, euphoric. Gideon had staged the most romantic of proposals and they’re now officially engaged.

Do I want that? A man who’s steadfast, who loves me beyond all others, who’d protect me and always have my back? Sure, if it were real.

I love those tropes in the books I read, the movies I watch. It’s a fun fantasy.

I thought I’d had that fantasy once. But there’s nothing like betrayal to simplify priorities, right?

So, despite my friends thinking I need a man in my life, no, thank you, I’m fine. Trust me.