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Targeted For Murder
Elizabeth Goddard


MOUNTAIN PURSUITWith his dying breath, Hadley Mason's fatally shot father reveals he's a CIA agent…and a bounty has been placed on both their heads. Heeding his urgent warning to disappear and trust no one, Hadley flees into the Oregon wilderness, but she can't shake the string of hired killers on her trail. So when a fearless and too-handsome wilderness guide comes to her rescue, Hadley has no choice but to put her life in Cooper Wilde's hands. The former Green Beret vows to protect her, but beyond steep gorges and treacherous terrain, a ruthless man will stop at nothing to see her dead.







MOUNTAIN PURSUIT

With his dying breath, Hadley Mason’s fatally shot father reveals he’s a CIA agent…and a bounty has been placed on both their heads. Heeding his urgent warning to disappear and trust no one, Hadley flees into the Oregon wilderness, but she can’t shake the string of hired killers on her trail. So when a fearless and too-handsome wilderness guide comes to her rescue, Hadley has no choice but to put her life in Cooper Wilde’s hands. The former Green Beret vows to protect her, but beyond steep gorges and treacherous terrain, a ruthless man will stop at nothing to see her dead.


Trust no one.

But her father hadn’t met Cooper Wilde when he’d said the words. Could he have known she’d be tracked into the heart of the wilderness? He’d given her no instructions on how, exactly, to stay hidden. All she had in her toolbox were implements to help her disappear.

And now, this one guy…

In a way, Cooper was the missing piece in her backpack. He was a weapon—the most capable person she’d ever met.

“You’re risking your life by sticking around,” she warned him.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

She averted her gaze. “Okay, if you’re going to stick around—” Was she really saying this? “—then, you should know what you’re getting into.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

Hadley climbed out. Cooper slid into the driver’s seat. Shifting into gear, he steered the Jeep onto what barely counted as a road.

“I’m listening.”

“What?”

“You were going to tell me what I’m getting into.”

She sat for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts and figure out where to begin. He seemed to take her hesitation for reluctance, because he said, “I promise, you’re safe with me. Your secret is safe with me.”


ELIZABETH GODDARD is an award-winning author of more than twenty novels, including the romantic mystery The Camera Never Lies—winner of a prestigious Carol Award in 2011. After acquiring her computer science degree, she worked at a software firm before eventually retiring to raise her four children and become a professional writer. In addition to writing, she homeschools her children and serves with her husband in ministry.


Targeted for Murder

Elizabeth Goddard






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


The Lord works righteousness and justice

for all the oppressed.

—Psalms 103:6


This story is dedicated to my parents, Barbara and Robin. Thank you for believing in me, for always encouraging me to reach for my dreams and to never give up.


Acknowledgments (#ulink_5c5641b5-3bf4-5ce5-98f2-cc7742323425)

This writing journey continues to amaze me as I travel roads that put me in contact with other writers, brilliant people whom I could never imagine I would brainstorm with on a monthly basis or meet with for a cup of coffee. Every time I spend time with writing friends, I come away realizing I’m a better writer for it. How truly blessed I am. So I want to say thanks to all my new writing buddies, and my longtime writing friends, as well. I couldn’t have written so many stories without you! And a special thank-you to my dear friend, Shannon McNear, who now only lives five hours from me! Yes! We can meet once in a while for that cup of coffee in person. All these years of virtual chatting and God has blessed us with some face-to-face time outside of conferences. I appreciate my editor, Elizabeth Mazer, so much for allowing me to write such fun stories. And as always, my agent, Steve Laube, has been a rock for me, always there to encourage and support me when I need him.


Contents

Cover (#ud21946fa-ec86-5990-94c8-32f17e1c76dd)

Back Cover Text (#uf07f36cf-180e-59da-8076-d030bbdf787a)

Introduction (#udd562f8d-fa39-50a9-9f36-d6c7bb5bea99)

About the Author (#u89933e34-6904-5f40-92e0-a12b569b65a5)

Title Page (#u1970c218-bfeb-58fb-b527-4906ddf40c6b)

Bible Verse (#u4fc89cf3-7eae-55d3-8f38-cef5f6635d4d)

Dedication (#u9e0d2741-0845-5e59-a636-7ffcfa37fa2c)

Acknowledgments (#ulink_73396c1a-fc52-583d-9a82-9cc76e78db4a)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_b6e35c97-cb56-54bb-9bd3-61defaf593c4)

CHAPTER TWO (#ue3fcc860-2bda-56b1-8100-40ea6dadb481)

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_3168c27a-57a4-531f-98b8-8af6f5b2afb8)

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_bf445792-d42f-53d3-8ca3-f5b29466949b)

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_92c083c3-ddd0-5392-b762-e3c6c3c2f41f)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


ONE (#ulink_c470b5da-7593-57e0-b0c8-951808d0846c)

Portland, Oregon

9:30 a.m. Saturday, October

Hadley Mason rubbed Butterfinger’s soft fur, gently urging her neighbor’s cat back inside. She’d agreed to feed and love on the tabby Persian for Teresa. An easy enough task, except for—a sneeze tickled her nose. Thankfully, Teresa would be home tomorrow.

Stepping into the carpeted hallway between the artist loft apartments, she pulled Teresa’s door closed behind her and moved to her own.

Then froze in her steps.

Hers was ajar.

Frowning, she eased it all the way open and peeked inside, assessing the situation. She wasn’t normally fearful but sometimes a girl had to be cautious, especially since she lived in the newly refurbished building that served as an artist community in a run-down part of town. Should she call the police? No...not yet. Not if there was any chance she might have accidentally left the door open herself.

But she really didn’t think she had.

Stepping across the threshold, she glanced around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Her surreal paintings of animals in different environments covered the walls and would normally set her at ease.

But not now.

“Is someone here?”

“Hadley...” Coming from the dining room across the apartment, the voice sounded strained.

“Dad!” Hadley rushed through the foyer, past the kitchen and into the small dining alcove. With his business travel schedule, she wasn’t supposed to see him again until Christmas in a couple of months. What a nice surprise. And she would have said as much except when she saw him sitting in the shadowed corner chair, she hesitated.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Her father wore his typical polished business suit but it was crumpled. His posture was slumped and his usual bright eyes were bloodshot as they studied her.

“Hadley, please sit down.”

Fear slithered up her throat. Her father was all she had in the way of family. She never knew her mother, who’d died when she was born.

“What’s going on?” She asked the question in a daze. “Why are you here?”

“Please.” He gestured to the chair.

Hadley slowly obeyed, never taking her eyes from his pale features. The sweat beading his forehead. “Daddy,” she whispered. “Tell me what’s going on.”

He leveled his pained gaze at her, struggling, battling with his words. Then he gave a subtle shake of his head. “I never meant for any of this to happen. For you to be dragged into this.”

“Dragged into what? You’re scaring me.”

“There’s not much time. I need you to listen carefully.” He fought for breath. “I’m not who you think I am.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m an agent...with the CIA.”

Hadley frowned. Snorted a laugh. But that was preposterous. Wait...was he serious? “You’re not a financial analyst?”

“No, that’s just my cover.”

She had to have misunderstood. “As in...wait...are you telling me that you’re a spy?”

Unbelievable.

“Yes. I just wanted to make the world a safer place for you, sweetheart...but instead I’ve brought danger to your door. I’m so sorry.” He slumped farther into the chair.

“Dad!” Hadley rushed to him and grabbed his hand. “Should I call a doctor? What should I do? Tell me and I’ll do it!”

“There isn’t time.”

“I don’t understand.”

She hated the tears blurring her vision. He wasn’t making sense, so she needed to be the strong one—to get them through this.

But then he lifted his suit jacket away from his body, revealing a blood-soaked towel pressed against his chest and what would have been a crisp white shirt. Only then did Hadley notice the blood dripping to the Persian rug, which hid the crimson color well.

Her heart plummeted.

“I’m calling 911! You need an ambulance.”

He grabbed her arm, held her tight, surprising her with his strength.

“You’re going to bleed to death if I don’t call for help.”

“I’ve been shot, and there’s nothing anyone can do for me now. I’m not going to make it.”

She could staunch the flow, adding to his efforts, but he’d already lost so much blood. Now she understood better his deathly appearance...except for one thing.

“Why, Dad? Why did someone shoot you?”

“Someone put a contract out on me. Probably because of a past operation. And that’s why I’m here. To warn you. You have to get out, Hadley. You have to hide.”

“Me? What does this have to do with me?”

“You’re my family. They have targeted you for elimination, too.”

“But...why?”

“I don’t have all the answers. My best guess? Revenge. I’ve done terrible things, Hadley, but sometimes the ends justifies the means, or at least I used to believe. But nothing is worth you getting hurt.” He pointed to a backpack on the table. “That’s for you.”

Hadley pulled away from him and glanced at the pack, then back at her father. She was losing him.

God, help him. Help me!

“I don’t care about the backpack, Dad. Let’s get you out of here and somewhere safe—like the hospital.”

Her mind was going in traitorous circles. She couldn’t think clearly or straight. She was going into shock, herself. All Hadley knew was she must do something to save her father. She eyed her cell on the counter and started for it but he held her in place with a death grip, his expression painfully desperate.

“Listen,” he hissed.

She didn’t recognize her father. Who was this man?

“Pay attention. Your life depends on it. The pack contains everything you’ll need to disappear. Cash and a passport. A new identity. Don’t use credit cards. Too easy to track. Grab your weapon. Take it with you...” Coughs spasmed from him, preventing him from saying more.

“What? I can’t leave now! What about the gallery? Friday is my national debut.” But as she said the words, she realized how shallow they sounded with what she was facing—her father’s death. And the chance that his killer might come after her next.

“I know it’s hard to take in all at once. I wanted to protect you. To keep you safe, but my world is...my world’s colliding with yours. Lose your identity. Disappear. Hide and...”

Now her childhood was all making so much more sense. The Krav Maga weekends. The firing ranges. Oh. My...

Her father’s head tilted forward. Hadley wanted to hug him, to keep him with her. “Daddy! Please, don’t leave me. I love you.”

His eyes were closed. Was he gone? Had she lost him? His lids fluttered, then he opened them again. “Leave now before he finds you and kills you. Trust no one. In the backpack—”

His eyes shut again and his head lobbed forward. Hadley sensed that he was gone. That her father no longer resided in this body. The thought overwhelmed her. She couldn’t comprehend it all.

Gone.

Just like that.

He’s gone.

Hadley dropped to her knees, pressed her face into her father’s jacket and sobbed. “No, Daddy, no!”

His words echoed through her mind. Leave now before he finds you and kills you.

Was this real? Was any of this real? Hadley wiped her eyes and nose and tore herself away. She stood to her feet and grabbed her cell from the counter, then called 911. No matter what he said, she was calling the police. If she could even believe someone was after her, why couldn’t the police help? Or the CIA, the people he worked for? The reason he was dead and she was in this predicament.

“What is your emergency?” the dispatcher answered.

“My father, he’s been shot. He’s...he’s dead. And he says someone is trying to kill me, too.”

The dispatcher asked for pertinent information that Hadley gave her. Afterward, she hung up and stared at her father’s body, still in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening. She paced the apartment, everything he’d just told her swirling through her mind in a vortex of confusion. Bile rose in her throat, moisture dampened her palms. She glanced at the backpack.

Leave now.

Trust no one.

Hadley snatched the bag and unzipped it. Shock rippled through her. Cash. There was so much cash. She’d never seen that much money in her life. Where had he gotten it? She glanced at him, then averted her gaze. She didn’t want to think about her father as he was now in the chair. She didn’t want that to be the prevailing memory of him. She tugged out the passport and saw her alias.

Megan Spears from Iowa?

Sirens rang out in the distance.

Panic cranked tighter around her throat. What would the police think when they found her with a bag of cash and a fake passport? Found her father dead? She glanced at her hands and her blouse. She was covered in his blood!

What do I do? What do I do?

Her entire life had just been ripped from under her. Her father’s, too. She’d lost her father and possibly her identity. Add to that, if the police would suspect her of his murder first and if they found this bag of cash and a fake passport, they would have a lot of questions for her. She would have no answers. Would they even believe her?

Think. You have to think.

She had to hide the bag. But where?

Teresa’s apartment.

Her friend wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.

But if Hadley hid it and the police found it, then what would she say? She shook off the thought, refusing to let doubts freeze her into inaction.

She was running out of time and didn’t have many choices.

Hadley snatched the bag and ran across the hallway. She unlocked the door, urged Butterfinger out of the way, and stashed the backpack at the top of the coat closet behind some boxes.

Oh, Daddy...

He could have gone to the hospital instead of coming to her apartment. If he had, he might have lived since the shot hadn’t instantly killed him. He might have survived! But he chose to come here and warn her instead of getting treatment. He’d sacrificed his life to give her everything she would need to survive.

Hadley was the reason he was dead.

Just like she was the reason her mother had died.

But she couldn’t think about that now. She had to focus on her father’s purpose for coming here—to warn her. She had to think about his instructions.

Why didn’t she leave, as he’d said? She knew she should, but she couldn’t bring herself to give up everything she’d worked for and just walk away.

She glanced through the peephole just as a man in a suit, wielding a weapon, burst through the door of her apartment. Her heart jumped up her throat. Hadley gasped for breath and pressed her back against the door.

He was not a police officer. Who was he? The man who killed her father? And now wanted to kill her?

She peered through the peephole again, fear and adrenaline rushing through her veins. She could see very little through the hole, but the man exited her apartment and closed the door. Holding a cell to his ear, he mumbled curses and other words she couldn’t understand.

But she caught the last thing before he disappeared from view.

“...retaliation, payback. I have to clean up loose ends.”

The words gripped her throat and squeezed. Hadley couldn’t breathe.

Her father had been right. She couldn’t trust anyone. Quickly Hadley went through Teresa’s closet to find old clothes she could wear. She and Teresa were about the same size, and no way would she go back into her own apartment. After donning an old blue jean jacket over a fresh T-shirt and tugging a cap over her strawberry-blond hair, she crammed the bloody clothes she’d worn into a plastic garbage sack and then into the receptacle. Hadley didn’t have time to properly dispose of the clothes. She wasn’t even sure how.

After changing, she grabbed the backpack from the closet and climbed through the window and down the fire escape, grateful for old buildings.

In the alley, she had to hurry before the police arrived and cordoned off the space. The sirens grew louder. At the corner she caught a cab and asked the driver to take her to the airport. As it drove away from the curb, two police cruisers pulled up to the building.

An ambulance, too.

Took them long enough.

She sank into the seat of the cab, but she risked one more backward glance. The man who’d broken into her apartment spoke with the police. Hadley stared out the passenger window thinking about her father’s instructions.

Trust no one.

Who was the man who’d come to her apartment? Was he acting alone, or were there other people after her? How could she protect herself if she didn’t even know who she was up against? There had to be someone who could help her but her father hadn’t given her names.

Whenever she was dealing with a problem, her first instinct was always to call her father. Not that she expected him to fix everything for her—she just always felt better about things when she’d gotten his calm perspective and useful advice. Her heart clenched at the thought that she’d never be able to call him again. Tears spilled over her cheeks again. All these years, working as a struggling artist, and finally her work would debut on the national scene in a few days and what did any of it matter? Her father wouldn’t be there at the opening reception.

If she didn’t clear things up before the reception, neither would she be there. At the moment, she didn’t even care.

She sniffled and turned her attention to the cabdriver who eyed her through the mirror. The windshield cracked and spidered at the same instant the driver’s head jerked back, blood splattering the seat.

Tires screech and the cab accelerated, swerving precariously back and forth on the road. Everything happened too fast. Hadley’s mind couldn’t wrap around what was happening. The driver had been shot in the head. No one controlled the vehicle now.

She screamed and gripped the seat.

God help me!

Horns honked and metal crunched as vehicles crashed and twisted together.

The cab flipped two times and finally came to a crunching stop against a concrete divider.

Hadley groaned. It hurt to move, to breathe. She dragged in oxygen.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she shook her head, wanting to wake up from the worst dream of her life.

Leave now before he finds you and kills you.

He might have found her, but Hadley had to do what her father had instructed her to do and disappear. Lose the killer again before he killed her. Or her father’s warning and his death would be for nothing.

But it was too late for the cabdriver.

He was gone. Hadley knew it.

Oh, God, help me. He has already killed someone else because of me.

Body aching and mind in shock, she grabbed the backpack and rolled out of her seat onto the concrete, hiding behind the cab as she carefully avoided the glass and twisted metal littering the road. Her pulse roared in her ears.

The cabdriver...dead... She could be next. And if she didn’t get away from the people gathering to help, anyone near her could be killed.

Because of her.

Based on the trajectory of the bullet that killed the cabdriver, she figured the killer had shot from building on the southeast corner. Hadley used the wrecked cab as cover, she crawled over and into a narrow alley littered with garbage and smelling the same, then stood and ran the length of it until she came to another building. Hadley slipped around the corner. Leaning against the brick wall, she caught her breath as she listened. She dusted off the broken glass that clung to her clothes and tried to look normal so she could melt into the crowd. Not draw any attention.

Ignoring the pain and grief, she ran a few blocks and slipped down yet another alley and caught another cab.

“Take me to the airport.” She didn’t know where she would go, but she had to get out of town and fast.

Maybe she would simply ask for the next flight out.

Her father was dead. A cabdriver was dead because someone had put out a contract to kill her father, and now her.

Forget her national debut.

Forget her life. Her only focus should be on how to survive. Her father had given her the tools he believed she would need. A passport for one, but she couldn’t imagine going overseas without a plan. She didn’t know enough about international travel.

The spy world wasn’t her world.

Until today, she’d had no idea it had been her father’s.

Maybe she could hide in a city somewhere. Get lost in the crowd, except she would be terrified of every single person who stood within an inch of her.

Her father might have made sure she could protect herself. But she couldn’t protect herself against an unseen villain. Until she identified the man who would come to kill her...

Everyone was an assassin.

Southwest Oregon

4:00 p.m. Saturday

Cooper Wilde checked his footing on the rock that hung hundreds of feet above the Rogue River, then raised his binoculars. As he breathed in the scent of the old-growth forest and took in the vivid evergreens and rocky canyon, the tension in his neck drained away.

He loved it here.

A scream echoed from somewhere to his west. Cooper’s gut tensed.

He heard the collective gasps of the women from the Rogue Valley Knitters and Knature Club behind him.

“What was that?”

“A woman screamed.”

“Or a panther, a mountain lion. I hear they can sound like a woman screaming.”

“Do you think a bear got her?”

“This is bear country, after all.”

He zoomed the binoculars out, searching for something he could focus in on.

“Shh, quiet. Let him search in peace.”

“There!” one of the women shouted. “I see something.”

He eased away from the binoculars long enough to get a glimpse of where the river carved through the canyon, narrow and steep. That was a good mile from where they stood. He saw nothing to indicate a problem. But appearances could be deceiving.

Even though he considered this an undemanding hike, nothing was ever quite that easy in the Wild Rogue Wilderness, the region surrounding the government-protected portion of the Rogue River. This rugged landscape drew thousands of tourists and thrill seekers every year, many of whom took foolish risks.

Was that all the scream had been? A thrill seeker out for the time of her life?

Instinct told him no.

Frowning, he continued searching. “What did you see?”

“Someone running. The trees are thick so I only got a glimpse.”

Then Cooper saw something, too, and pressed the binoculars tightly against his face. Through a copse of deciduous trees that had lost most of their leaves, he spotted a woman wearing a blue jean jacket, running for all she was worth.

Now... What are you running from? He searched behind her and saw a man carrying a weapon. Were they running together—maybe from a bear? Or was the man chasing the woman?

Indecision weighed on him.

Hesitation on his part could cost a life. Pain from the past echoed through his gut.

Cooper dropped the binoculars and peered back at his Wilderness, Inc., employee Melanie Shore. “Take them around on the short loop. I’ll meet you at the trailhead if I can.”

“Wait, what?”

“You’ll get your hike, ladies, don’t worry. But it’s my job to make sure you’re safe, too. Unless you’re signing up for wilderness training today...”

“No, no,” several replied.

He didn’t blame them. They didn’t have the training to help—he did. He’d served on Special Forces. A designated marksman. Although it had been five years, he’d never forgotten that familiar sixth sense that raised the hair on his arms and neck. It was what made him one of the top wilderness survival trainers. The reason his father had insisted his children enlist, get military training first.

Cooper didn’t like the way his mind and body transformed into a creature of habit from his past, but if it meant saving a life, he’d go with it. He edged down until he got a grip on the rock and climbed down the cliff face until he could drop into the woods.

Feet on the ground, he pushed off and kept moving in stealth mode, his own weapon at the ready. He didn’t like the hikers to see it. Didn’t want to scare them, but in bear country and otherwise, he always carried.

Hearing the grunts of a struggle, he picked up the pace.

Near the rocky ledge overlooking the river, he saw the woman fighting with a man who looked more than capable of snapping her like a twig.

He let his body move into instinct mode—and charged.


TWO (#ulink_869d03dc-1c97-5fa6-a46c-027af694ab2a)

He rushed forward while absorbing the scene before him, assessing and strategizing at the same time.

He had to get there before it was too late, even as he fought against the all-too familiar memories that threatened to shut him down.

Cooper focused on this one moment. This one life he could save.

The woman was young—late twenties, maybe—and had skills that had kept her alive this long. Maybe she’d even managed to disarm the man, since his weapon was no longer in sight.

Krav Maga.

He recognized the moves. She was good, but he could tell she grew tired, gasped for breath as her strength paled against the larger man. Bigger and stronger, the attacker looked like he worked out and fought every day for a living. He could already have killed her. Why was he toying with her?

Regardless of the reasons, his intentions were clear and he would overpower her soon.

All this Cooper took in on his approach. Before he reached the two, the man shoved her to the ground, straddled her and wrapped his hands around her throat.

Showtime.

Cooper made himself known, aimed his weapon at the man’s head. “Let her go.”

But the man ignored Cooper and continued to strangle her. The woman’s eyes were already bloodshot.

“Let her go now, or I will shoot you.” He fired off a warning shot. Still the man didn’t let go.

Cooper didn’t want to kill anyone. He’d seen too much blood already. Instead, he rushed him like a linebacker, barreling into him. Muscle jarred—steel swords clashing—as Cooper toppled the man, pushing him off the woman.

Together, they fell against the rocky ground, pebbles and sharp stones grinding into them. Cooper rolled and scrambled to his feet, raising his arm to strike the man across the head with the butt of his weapon, hoping to knock him unconscious. As his hand came down, the man thrust his arm up and gripped Cooper’s wrist with surprising strength, preventing his strike.

He’d underestimated this man.

They rushed each other like two rutting elks. The fight was on, and Cooper’s weapon was tossed aside like an afterthought. A Green Beret in the army, he had his own set of hand-to-hand combat skills that included a variety of fighting styles. And right now, he was more than glad his exercise program continued to challenge him. Otherwise he would already be dead.

But he didn’t practice this on a daily basis. Why should he? And now the man had him on the defensive, protecting all his vulnerable parts.

Eyes, neck, throat, solar plexus...

If he had any doubts before about his opponent’s profession, they were long gone. He was certain this man was a hit man... No.

More than that.

An assassin.

Cooper had met his match and on his own home turf, no less.

Sweat trickled into his eyes and burned. He gasped for breath, ignored the pain. Ignored the frustration and let his instincts and fighting skills work for him. Cooper knew he was the weaker opponent in this match.

But he had an advantage somewhere.

What was it?

There had to be one.

They circled each other now, the man catching his breath as well. Something like the pleasure of a challenge glinted in the man’s dark eyes.

“I haven’t ever fought a mountain man.” A scoffing laugh erupted.

Mountain man? So the man was trying to taunt him now?

“Then I have the advantage. I’ve fought plenty of killers. You’re nothing special.”

The other man just laughed, and pulled a knife from his pocket. “I’ve enjoyed sparring with you. But now the fun is over. This woman has already been too much trouble for me. Are you willing to lose your life for her?”

Cooper had no plans to die today, but who did? “I have every intention of making sure she’s safe. That you don’t succeed in killing her.”

“Do you even know her?”

“Never seen her before in my life.”

“A hero, then. Don’t be a martyr, too—just walk away.”

“Why are you trying to kill her?” Cooper asked, borrowing time. But the assassin was also stalling. For what purpose, Cooper couldn’t know.

“I tell you what...” He gestured behind him to the cliff’s edge. “You toss her down the cliff for me and I’ll let you live.”

The man was twisted in ways Cooper didn’t want to linger on.

But he’d given Cooper an advantage, sparking a memory that allowed anger and rage from the past to drive him, empower him. He’d watched his brother throw himself over. Commit suicide.

Cooper hadn’t been able to stop him. Now was the moment he could let go and unleash the beast.

Letting that memory fuel him, Cooper charged the man and quickly disarmed him of the knife. They rolled until they were at the cliff’s edge. Doubt crawled over Cooper. Would the assassin push him off the ledge to his death? Take Cooper with him when he fell?

Then the woman was there, pounding on the assassin entangled with Cooper, using martial arts again until the man freed himself from them—but then lost his footing. He hung on to the gnarled roots growing from the rocky ledge as he clung for his life.

Cooper reached for him. “Give me your hand. I’ll pull you up.”

Fear didn’t grip the man like Cooper would have expected. Instead anger and hate filled the man’s gaze. Determination marked his features, and he made no move to accept Cooper’s help. Cooper reached, grabbing the man’s arm. In this position, the man could take him with him if he chose to fall and drag Cooper along.

What am I doing?

But even if the man was an assassin, Cooper couldn’t stand by and watch another man die like this. And anyway, he still wanted answers.

“Why kill her? What’s she to you? Who are you?” In his peripheral vision, he could see that she stood back and away from the edge, eerily silent. She had to already know the answer.

A smirk lifted the man’s lips. “It’s just business. If I die, it’s only a matter of time before another will come.”

Then, he twisted out of Cooper’s grip and dropped, his body falling hundreds of feet toward the rocky Rogue River rapids below.

Cooper couldn’t bring himself to watch, this image melding with the other of his brother’s fall to his death.

But now was not the time to lose himself in memories or guilt. Not when the woman was still there, with possibly another killer on her trail.

* * *

Hadley pressed her hand against her midsection, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Cold laced the wind that rushed over her and rustled the trees like it was any other day. As though none of what she’d experienced had happened.

The man who’d fought with the assassin turned away from the cliff’s edge and faced her, his broad shoulders rising and falling as he caught his breath— Or maybe in disbelief.

He tugged off his ripped jacket. Sweat darkened the back of his shirt, torn at the arm.

If only she could get the assassin’s last words out of her head.

It’s just business. If I die, it’s only a matter of time before another will come.

Nausea roiled. She’d done the best she could to disappear. Now what? Where did she go?

Her eyes rose to the face of the man who’d inserted himself into her fight. It was caked with blood and dirt, as was his shaggy brown hair. His steel-blue eyes stared at her. He appeared as shocked as she was from the events of the last few moments.

But he was still alive.

She took in his sturdy six-foot form. He didn’t look much older than her. Early thirties, maybe? He was definitely well-trained. He’d somehow survived fighting with the assassin sent to kill her.

Her relief palpable, she almost cried.

“Are you okay?” His voice was gentler than she had expected.

But what must he think of her? “No.”

This wasn’t over.

I have to know.

Hadley rushed over to the edge. She had to see the body. Had to see that he was dead.

The man caught her at the waist and pulled her back from the edge.

“Whoa. What are you doing?”

She twisted in his arms. Powerful arms. “I have to see that he’s dead! To make sure he’s gone.” She sounded like a crazy person. She didn’t recognize her own voice.

“He’s dead.”

“Let me go!”

When he relinquished his hold, oddly, Hadley almost wished he hadn’t. She crept to the edge and vertigo hit her. She forced herself to look down, searching, but when she swayed on her feet, he gently gripped her arm and tugged her back.

“I don’t see him.”

“The river took him.”

“Then he could still be alive.”

“No, he couldn’t.”

“But you don’t know that.”

“Look. He’s dead, all right?”

“I don’t know.” Wouldn’t she feel safer if he was dead? Instead, she didn’t feel safe at all. “He seemed so invincible. I can’t believe the fall would kill him. Is there a chance that he could have survived, no matter how small?”

He produced a sigh as if giving up. “Yes. There’s always a chance. Of course, there is. It’s doubtful, but anything is possible.”

Okay, so there was that possibility. And another equally as terrifying.

Hadley opened her eyes. “You heard him. It doesn’t matter if he’s dead. Someone else will come.”

Deep lines creased his forehead. He studied her as if he were sifting through her insides, looking for anything good and coming up short. Now she’d done it.

Why had she blurted that out?

“Who was he? Why does he want to kill you?”

“I don’t know.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she thrust her hands in her hair and fisted them, wanting this to end. Wanting to curl into a ball and cry. But that wasn’t an option.

She couldn’t afford to reveal anything but her strong side. Hated that this stranger saw her moment of weakness. Except she needed this chance to release the anguish.

Though her knees shook, limbs trembled, she wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t release the racking sobs building up inside.

She needed to force strength into her shaky legs and walk out of here. Grab her gear at the place she’d rented—a remote cabin that the killer should never have been able to find. If she hadn’t seen him from a distance, she wouldn’t have been able to make a run for it into the wilderness.

That run for her life had only gained her a few moments, yet that had been enough time for an unexpected warrior to appear and fight on her behalf.

Drawing in a calming breath, she opened her eyes. The man was grimacing, and his own eyes were closed. Hadley focused on him instead of herself. He must have been stabbed or injured in some way.

“Where are you hurt?”

He opened his eyes. She could clearly see the pain in them, but it wasn’t physical. It looked like something more. Something deeper. “I asked if you’re hurt,” she repeated.

“Not in any way that can be fixed. What about you?”

She could have answered in the same way. “I’m okay.”

“Then let’s get you out of here.”

He grabbed her arm, but Hadley had no intention of going anywhere with him. “Let me go.”

He did as she asked.

She sucked in a breath. “Thank you for helping me. You saved my life.”

“You were holding your own there.”

“Barely. He would have killed me if you hadn’t come. Now, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get back to whatever you were doing and I’ll just be on my way.”

“Hold on.” He caught her again, and this time tightened his grip. “You sure you don’t know who he was or why he was trying to kill you? That man wasn’t just anyone. He was a trained killer. I want some answers. And you can’t just run off. We have to report what happened. A man is dead.”

Trust no one.

She couldn’t trust the police. But how did she explain this to her rescuer? He’d helped her...but she couldn’t rely on him. And even if she had been willing to trust him, she had no right to pull him into her troubles. It would be better and safer for them both if she pushed him away.

Hadley stared at his hand on her arm. “Like I said, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll let me go now. You know I can fight you if I have to.”

Immediately he released her. “I’m just trying to help. Let’s call the sheriff. I need to report what happened. That...someone fell over a cliff.” A deep agony edged his tone.

Hadley searched the woods for the direction she should hike. She didn’t like the way he was hanging on, trying to prevent her from escaping, though she could tell he meant well.

“I can’t wait around.”

The man stiffened at that. “Look, I’m no idiot. I know I just fought with an assassin, and likely what’s going on here is more than a backcountry sheriff can handle, but there are still channels to go through.”

Hadley had slowly started putting distance between them. The sooner she left him behind the better. But he seemed to be on to her plan and stepped forward. He held his palms out. “Don’t I have the right to know if by helping you that I’ve involved myself in something? What if someone is going to come looking for me now, too?”

His words reached across the way and grabbed her throat. Squeezed a few tears up into her eyes. Her father. The cabdriver. No more. No one else could die.

“That’s why I have to get out of here. Just stay away from me!” Hadley turned and ran toward the deeper woods.

“Look, what’s your name?” he called. “At least give me that. I’ll go first. My name is Cooper Wilde. I own and run Wilderness, Inc.”

She slowed then. Turned to face him. Please, don’t tell me any more. She couldn’t get further entangled with him.

Hadley had a few ideas of what sort of business that might be, but she wasn’t sure what name she could give him. Her alias? Or her real name? “Look. You’re a good guy, I can see that. But I need to disappear. I don’t know you and I can’t trust you. I can’t trust anyone. I don’t want to get you involved and risk getting you killed because of me.”

“I’m already involved. I just dispatched the bad guy, in case you hadn’t noticed.” His voice turned curt.

Sounded like he was running out of patience.

“And don’t make me have to fight the good guys, too. Okay?” Hadley started back the way she’d come, pushing through the brush, reminiscing each terrifying moment she’d spent trying to outsmart, outrun and out-hide a man who was trying to kill her, all because of her father.

Even he hadn’t known who was targeting them. Could only guess at a revenge contract.

What would it hurt to have someone to lean on? Someone she could trust?

But she didn’t know who that would be.

She glanced over her shoulder and didn’t see Cooper following her. The sharp pain of disappointment stabbed her, but she couldn’t let herself depend on anyone else.

To depend on someone else could be deadly.


THREE (#ulink_af4bfdda-3a61-54c6-b2c6-4f9aef570fea)

Thirst drove her worse than her exhaustion as she hiked every miserable mile back to the rental cabin. This time, she failed to even bother to search the area for anyone waiting there to kill her.

With not one ounce of energy left, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Finally, there it was, tucked away in the greenery like something from a postcard. Seeing the cabin revived her. There, she could sit. Massage her aching feet. Drink a gallon of water.

She crept onto the porch. Cautiously, she pushed through the door, thinking back to that moment when she’d spotted the man who meant to kill her. She’d seen it in his stance, his prowling around the cabin, and then in his eyes.

But he wasn’t a problem right now. Even if he’d survived the fall, he had to be badly injured, and would need a recovery period before he could attack again. If someone else came for her, she was counting on that taking some time. Either way, she had a little breathing room—which was a very good thing. She needed a chance to catch her breath. Get her feet under her.

Hadley dropped in the old rickety chair in the corner and hugged herself, her insides turning over. She gulped the old musty air in the room. If she wasn’t safe here, in the middle of this wild backcountry—then where could she go?

But she had to leave now, because that man—Cooper Wilde—would bring the local authorities to her door. The sheriff’s office had to investigate the report of the death of an assassin and his attempt to kill Hadley. Then she would be questioned. And if they discovered she had a fake passport and a bag of cash, they would get even more suspicious if not take her into custody. She could already be wanted for questioning in her father’s death, especially since she ran from the scene after calling the police to begin with.

And once in custody, she would be an easy target for a contract killer.

No. She couldn’t let that happen.

She had to find a solid hiding place or keep moving, at least until she knew who was behind this. So far, she’d been simply trying to survive. She hadn’t had time to worry about discovering who was after her. Yet she had a feeling none of this would end until the person who wanted her dead was truly unmasked.

But that was a problem for another day. Today, her focus was on staying alive.

Drawing on strength she didn’t feel, Hadley gathered the few items she’d purchased in Medford. She thought back to how she’d gotten to Gideon, Oregon, the small town smack in the middle of the Wild Rogue Wilderness.

Once she had arrived at the Portland airport, she’d learned from the agent at the ticketing counter that the next available flight was to Medford, Oregon. Hadley had almost gasped. That was perfect. From there she could drive to Gideon. Hadn’t she always wanted to spend time in the Wild Rogue Wilderness? She could hide out and paint.

But her attempt to salvage her dream hadn’t lasted long. She hadn’t been here a day when the assassin had shown up to kill her.

She grabbed the backpack with the cash and her new identity. How had he tracked her? Had he known the name on her passport? If so, then she’d need a new one. But Hadley didn’t have a clue how to change her identity.

With a quick intake of breath, she let the pack slip to the floor and thought back to those last moments with her father. She couldn’t get them out of her head.

He’d taught her skills. Yes. The self-defense training had kept her alive. But why hadn’t he taught her other skills—like how to hide, or create a false identity? She had no experience with deception—but her father, it seemed, was a master. He wasn’t the man she had thought he was. There was so much more she wished she had known, and now she never would.

Had he lied about her mother, too? Hadley had been told that her parents had lived happily in that small house on the Oregon Coast until her mother died in childbirth. What was the real story behind the house where they spent Christmas every year? Was it all a sham?

Oh, God. What do I do now? This wasn’t supposed to happen. Why couldn’t You at least have let my father live, so we could have run away together? He could have protected me.

She had to pull herself together to survive another day.

Hadley could do this. She must if she wanted to live.

She picked up the pack and pulled it on again. If only she had the luxury of telling her story to the sheriff like a normal person experiencing a normal crime.

But there wasn’t anything about this situation that was normal. Her father had said she should trust no one and she would adhere to his advice for now. There was nothing anyone could do for her, not even Cooper Wilde, the assassin killer.

She thought back to the wild intensity in his eyes, the visible strength of his body springing into action. A protector on steroids.

He had skills. Part of her regretted leaving him so abruptly. But surely it was for the best.

A faint noise, the hint of a sound, drew her attention. She held her breath and listened.

Not-so-subtle footfalls clunked on the porch.

Her biggest regret was that she hadn’t had a chance to grab her weapon like her father had told her. Nor had she had a chance to buy a new one.

She’d give anything for that protection now.

Clunk, clunk, clunk.

If it was another assassin, he could shoot her right through the wall. Fear gripped her. She held still and kept quiet. She wouldn’t give herself away if it weren’t already too late.

Someone knocked. “Are you there? It’s Cooper.”

Sweat bled from her palms. If only they were wrapped around her Glock.

Trust no one.

Never mind this man had saved her life. Maybe he was a threat to her, maybe he wasn’t. Right now, what bothered her was that he’d found her too quickly and easily. Why was it so hard to disappear?

* * *

“What do you want?”

Cooper scraped a hand down his face, wishing he’d had a chance to clean up.

“To talk. That’s all.”

“Is the sheriff with you?”

He leaned against the door, wanting to break through, but that would send her running quicker than anything. “No.”

Not yet.

He’d called once he’d gotten a signal but there wasn’t a deputy on duty for another four hours. The county seat where the sheriff’s office resided was sixty miles from Gideon. Still, the dispatcher said she’d make some calls and see if she could get someone out to Cooper.

Good thing the town wasn’t under siege. The joy of living in an actual designated wilderness region.

Never mind the location was so remote mail arrived via boat service. Oh well, if it was good enough for novelist Zane Grey, who wrote in a nearby cabin, it was good enough for Cooper.

“I don’t have time,” she said.

That’s right. She was in a hurry to run away.

“Could you at least open the door?”

The door creaked open slowly. Her posture was defensive. She would to fight her way out of here if he forced her.

He threw his hands up in surrender. “Whoa. I’m not the bad guy here, remember?”

Her wary expression didn’t change, but she stood aside, albeit reluctantly, then waved him in.

Cooper shut the door behind him.

“I can’t stay here. If there’s someone coming for me, I need to disappear. You’re holding me up.”

“I thought you should know it’ll be a while before anyone shows up to check on the guy who went into the river.”

Her face scrunched up. “So you did call the sheriff.”

“I tried. But deputies run thin around here.” He wouldn’t go into population to square mileage.

“Thanks, but you’re not helping. Why did you come again? To hold me for the law?”

Cooper wanted to kick himself. “Just trying to do the right thing.”

“You mean you were trying to cover yourself.”

“And you. But hey, I don’t even know your name.”

“Megan Spears from Iowa.”

Cooper frowned. Scratched his head. Megan Spears from Iowa? Right. After refusing to tell him anything earlier, she was suddenly willing to share her full name and where she was from? Unlikely. It had to be a false identity. But it was better than just calling her “the woman” in his head. “It’s nice to meet you, Megan Spears from Iowa.”

Megan Spears from Iowa sagged, probably just realizing her faux paus.

“So you don’t want to give me your real name. It’s okay.”

What am I getting myself into? I don’t have anything left to give, especially to help a girl in this much trouble.

“I need to disappear and yesterday.” Her words were strong, but they belied her appearance—scratched, bleeding and exhausted.

She tried to push past him.

“Wait,” he said. “I can help. I teach survival training. I have a military background. Just...let me help you.”

Hadley shrank if only a millimeter. “I’m listening.”

A half grin cracked into her lips. But why was she staring? “What?”

“You have a gash on your forehead. You’re bloody and bruised and you don’t even care. I saw how you fought. I think... I think I could believe your background.”

So she had trust issues, huh? Well, with trained killers after her, he could hardly blame her. Cooper had just offered her the first real chance to believe someone in a while, it would seem.

Cooper offered his own half grin. Except his smile wiped away the moment.

Her lips flattened. “It makes no difference. I need to leave.”

“Do you know where you’re going next? Where to hide?”

“It’s none of your business.” This time Megan pushed by him and he let her.

The sun was setting and the air grew chilled. “If you need to hide, I can help you. Don’t you get it?”

She whirled on him. “Why would you help me? You don’t even know me.”

He’d been asking himself that same question, and wondering if he even still had what it took to deal with this kind of life-and-death situation, that is, after failing so miserably. “I’ve trained my whole life to help people. It’s what I do. My business is about training people to survive. So I recognize when someone is desperate and needs help. I can’t turn my back on you. I won’t.”

His reasons went deeper, much deeper, he suddenly realized. He hadn’t seen how desperate his brother was until it was too late and he’d taken that suicide plunge. That had shaken Cooper’s confidence to the core. Even his father had blamed him. Hadley was desperate for far different reasons—he could see that and had no excuse this time. Without Cooper’s help she would die.

Now, how did he convince her to let him help?

“The kind of survival assistance I need goes far beyond what you train people for.”

“How do you know?”

She cocked a brow.

“And you’re up to the task?” he asked.

She turned her back on him and started for the old Jeep Wrangler soft top.

Cooper followed. He’d been on foot all day and had found his way here, trailing her from a distance.

How did he convince her? “How about just for the night? Just so you have time to think and rest. You can stay at the apartment above the storefront for Wilderness, Inc., in Gideon.”

“Whose apartment is it?”

He’d be embarrassed to admit it was his, once she saw it, but she’d figure it out soon enough. He’d have to be up-front with her from the start. One small white lie and she would run. “Mine. I’ll sleep in the office downstairs until you figure out your next step.”

“How do I know you’re not trying to keep me here until the sheriff comes?”

Another good question. That hadn’t been his intention.

“You want to know if the man is dead, don’t you? Getting the sheriff involved will mean people searching for a body down the river.” That was the wrong thing to say—she wanted fewer people involved, not more. “He doesn’t have to know about you. I’ll tell him I saw a woman getting attacked, I fought with a man and the woman disappeared. That’s all.”

“So you want to do the right thing and call the sheriff but you’re not going to tell him the whole truth?”

“I will tell him, but not until I know you’re safe.” What are you getting yourself into, Cooper Wilde?

But he knew the sheriff would understand after he told him everything. This woman could be dead by the morning if he didn’t find a way to help her tonight.

“I’m sorry, but my fa— I can’t trust anyone. Not even the police.”

“You’re not from here, so there’s no reason to believe the sheriff is connected to any of the people after you, right?”

“No, but he might tell other people. I don’t want any information about me to get out.”

“He won’t—not if I ask him not to.”

She looked skeptical. “How well do you know this sheriff?”

“I’ve known him for years.”

“And you trust him?”

Did he? But Cooper hesitated too long and she huffed her way past him and climbed into her old clunker.

Helping someone survive had never been this grueling.


FOUR (#ulink_6ef8c3c8-c817-5100-8392-a25dd87fa770)

Hadley jammed the key in the ignition.

Cooper didn’t follow her. He’d let her go. For that, she was grateful. So why did disappointment swirl around inside?

She couldn’t have another death on her conscience. She’d have to keep her distance from everyone until this was over. If it ever was.

Except how could she really do this all on her own?

She needed someone to help, but it was too risky to trust anyone, on all fronts.

The engine turned over once. Twice. Then died. She tried again. Good thing she wasn’t running from an assassin at this moment. Why had she bought such an old vehicle? With the cash in her bag, she could have bought something new and sturdy.

She was aware of Cooper watching her in the waning light of day, hands on his hips. Why didn’t he just go away? He had no idea. No. Idea. What he’d be getting into if he stayed.

She squeezed the steering wheel, frustration building in her chest. She couldn’t accept his offer of help.

Could she?

Exhaustion overwhelmed her. She eyed the cabin with longing—but there was no way she could spend the night there.

How had that man found her? He’d said someone else would come after her. Even if she ran, would they find her next hiding place just as easily? If she didn’t figure out this most basic problem of how to cover her tracks—and soon—she was dead.

Cooper knocked on the window.

She jumped. Too tired to stay alert, she hadn’t realized he’d approached the Jeep. Her inattention could have been deadly.

He stared down at her, waiting. The vehicle was so old, she had to physically roll down the window. It squeaked with each crank of the handle.

He folded his arms against the window frame and leaned in, too close for comfort. An image of him fighting the assassin—like some fine-tuned war machine—accosted her. Something about him, something feral in his presence, made her insides hum. Would it be so wrong to rely on him a little? She didn’t have to trust him with everything...well, just her life.

Trust no one.

But her father hadn’t met Cooper Wilde when he’d said the words. Could he have known she’d be tracked into the heart of the wilderness? He’d given her no instructions on how, exactly, to stay hidden. All she had in her toolbox were implements to help her disappear.

And now, this one guy...

In a way, Cooper was the missing piece in her backpack. He was a weapon. And from what she’d seen so far, he appeared to be the most capable person she’d ever met.

“You’re risking your life by sticking around.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

She averted her gaze. “Don’t you get it?”

When she looked back at him, he proffered that crazy grin. He had some charm about him, but she didn’t think that was his intention. He came across as more of a warrior.

“Okay, if you’re going to stick around—” was she really saying this? “—then you should know what you’re getting into.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

Hadley climbed out. Cooper slid into the driver’s seat.

“What are you doing?”

“Let’s get out of here and you can tell me while I drive.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Anywhere would be safer than this cabin.”

Hadley ran around and climbed into the passenger seat. “Can you get it started?”

He turned the key. Kept trying until the engine turned over. Then smiled at her. “I have the right touch.”

“You just tried longer than I did, that’s all.”

“Like I said. The right touch.”

Shifting into gear, he steered the Jeep onto what barely counted as a road. Hadley felt like she was handing her life over to a complete stranger. She held on to the handgrip, feeling the strain of the geriatric vehicle as it bumped and jolted over the potholes and through the darkening forest.

“I’m listening.”

“What?”

“You were going to tell me what I’m getting into.”

She sat for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts and figure out where to begin. He seemed to take her hesitation for reluctance, because he said, “Megan Spears from Iowa... I promise, you’re safe with me. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Okay, well for starters, my real name is...” Should she do it? Should she jump in with both feet? But Hadley needed to tell someone. “My name is Hadley Mason.”

He glanced at her intermittently, but then focused back on the hazardous road out. Her cabin hadn’t been too far from the nearest town and soon enough, they saw the lights flickering between the trees, dotting the forest like stars in the sky.

Gideon, Oregon—a quiet, remote historical town smack in the middle of the Wild Rogue Wilderness.

Cooper urged the old Jeep into the shadows behind a two-story home near the center of the tiny town. He turned off the ignition, then shifted in the seat to give her his full attention.

Oh, boy.

“What are you doing? Why are we...parked in the shadows?”

“This is the back of my business. The house is both storefront and home.” He gestured to the second story. “That’s the apartment, should you choose to stay. I’m parked in the shadows so nobody will see or bother us. I didn’t want to assume, though, that you had agreed to stay. I’m still waiting to hear your story.”

“Yeah, and after you hear it I’m waiting to have that invitation withdrawn.”

“Not likely.”

Hadley drew in a breath and spilled everything that had happened this morning. She shared about the passport but stopped just short of telling him about all the cash in her backpack. Money changed people. And if he chose to steal from her, what recourse did she have? He knew she didn’t want to go to the police.

The events of her day seemed like a lifetime ago but it hadn’t been twelve hours. The words made her sound crazy.

“And now, here I am. With you. But you don’t have to be involved. You can let me walk away.”

Hadley waited for him to respond.

But Cooper Wilde just stared at her.

Right. Why had she hoped he wouldn’t think she was as crazy as she sounded? Oh, yeah, because he’d fought with her assassin. He had some evidence she spoke the truth.

“Are you going to say anything?”

He blew out a long pent-up breath he’d obviously held through her entire story.

* * *

Cooper scraped a hand over his face. Again. At the look on her face, he realized his action hadn’t exactly conveyed confidence. He was doing a poor job of reassuring her. She’d run if he didn’t respond right away and with the correct answer. But he had no idea what to say. How to respond.

That was one wild story.

So he just said, “Give me a second to think. That was...a lot.”

Still, he knew she had to be telling the truth.

“You don’t believe me.”

“I do, actually.” And wished he didn’t. “Remember, I fought with the guy trying to kill you.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to believe the rest of the story.”

“No, but it sounds right. He wasn’t the typical thug one would run into around here.” Or anywhere else. Nor was he a backwoods drug runner. Clearly she was involved in something high level. The only thing that wasn’t certain was whether she was lying about being an innocent victim—but his gut told him she was telling the truth.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye.” She opened her door and stepped out.

“Wait a minute.” Cooper jumped out and ran around the vehicle. Stepping in her path, he held out his hands like he tried to calm a skittish mare. “Where are you going to go? You can’t run from this on your own.”

“What do you suggest I do? Wait for the sheriff? This is above his pay grade.” Hadley started pacing, the dim light from his apartment above lighting her path. “I didn’t ask for any of this.” She stopped and stared at him. “And neither did you.”

Her curly, strawberry-blond hair askew, weary didn’t begin to describe her. She appeared fragile and yet he’d seen her combat skills firsthand. Knew she was physically strong. Believed there had to be something strong inside, too, that had kept her alive. She’d said her father had taught her the skills. He must have suspected this day might come. What had he done that resulted in this happening to his daughter?

“I’m sorry about your father,” he said. “He obviously loved you. Wanted you to be safe.”

She hung her head. “Thanks.”

“What do you do for living, Hadley?”

“Why does that matter?”

“I’m forming a plan. Just work with me.”

“I’m an artist—a painter. I have a following on Etsy that pays the bills. I’m slowly building my career with exhibitions in small galleries and museums and a few commissioned pieces. But this coming Friday I have an exhibit that will propel me onto the national scene. I’m making my big debut, you could say. Or I was, until all this happened.”

An artist? He hadn’t expected that. The news left him unsettled. Disturbed.

Cooper squeezed his eyes closed, remembering. His brother Jeremy had been an artist before he committed suicide. Cooper caught himself. Now wasn’t the time to relive the horror or wallow in the guilt. He focused back on Hadley.

Were those tears shimmering in her eyes? She blinked them away. Back at the cabin, before daylight had faded, he’d noticed the greens and golds swirling in her irises.

Cooper had to stay on task.

If only something about Hadley and her situation didn’t tug at his heart, tipping it a little bit in her favor. He gently pushed the feeling back. He was nowhere near ready to let himself care about someone. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t help a person in trouble, especially this kind of inescapable deadly trouble.

He was all over making sure she stayed safe. Who was Cooper Wilde if he couldn’t protect someone in her position? His business, Wilderness, Inc., would mean nothing.

“I was thinking you could stay in the apartment. Work in the back office, if you want. Was hoping you’d say you were a bookkeeper.” He tossed her an apologetic shrug. “That would keep you safe and out of sight until we can form a plan.”

Find the source of this contract and end it for good.

“You’d want me to stay long enough to work here? That’s crazy. Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said? I can’t stick around here when someone’s after me. What if something happens to you because of me? I can’t be responsible.”

“Let me worry about myself.” Cooper was all for justice. Unfortunately he wasn’t sure Hadley was going to get it the usual way. There was no one else he could trust with her safety, not even the authorities.

He thought back to her story about the official-looking man who burst through the door of her apartment, weapon drawn, before the police even arrived. Then how she’d seen him speaking with the police when she left, confirming to Hadley the man worked in some official capacity. But the fact that he’d mumbled to himself about taking care of loose ends raised the hairs on Cooper’s neck.

No wonder she was scared to trust anyone, even the police. And if the CIA was involved, all bets were off.

She watched him now, waiting on him to lead on if he meant his invitation. The night closed in around them, and Hadley shivered. What kind of guy was he to keep her out here waiting? And what kind of guy was he if he didn’t use every resource he had to help her?

“I have connections. Someone who can help me find out who is after you.” Someone he didn’t want to contact. He’d wait until there was no other choice.

Hadley studied him.

First things first. “Let me show you the apartment. You can crash there, and make a decision in the morning, if you’re not ready tonight.”

She sagged. “Honestly, I can’t think straight. I haven’t eaten. I’ve been running all day. I’m fried.”

Cooper didn’t want to say he was counting on that. “Let me show you my humble abode.”

He grabbed her backpack from the Jeep, locked it up—as if that mattered much—and together they hiked the outside stairs up to the apartment. He shoved the door open. It hadn’t been locked. He’d never had a need to lock the door.

Until today.

She eyed him before walking into his apartment. He’d left a light on in the corner. Hadley stood in the middle of the small efficiency apartment and looked around.

“It’s not much,” Cooper said apologetically.

Her gaze landed on a painting of old-town Gideon, then drifted back to him. “Thank you,” she barely croaked out.

Cooper had the sudden urge to reach out and grab her, draw her to him. Hold and comfort her. He fisted his hands against the unwelcome emotions, preventing them from acting out his desires.

No. No, no. He wouldn’t let her crawl under his skin. He was just doing his job as a good person. One who knew something of the world. “You’re welcome. The shower and bath are through there. I’ll see if I can find something for you to eat, and then I’ll crash in the office downstairs.”

“My father told me not to trust anyone, Cooper. Anyone. And here... I’m letting myself trust you.”

He swallowed the knot in his throat. Determination filled him to see this through with her. To the end. He was nothing if not committed to his missions, if not loyal to his assignments. He might try to think of Hadley as just an assignment, but she was much more. She was a person who mattered. A beautiful woman who had fought an assassin and survived. And Cooper would listen to the alarms resounding in his brain and stop his heart from connecting, nip this attraction before it started. Keeping her safe was what mattered. He could do that and keep his heart in line at the same time because he had the training.

De opresso liber.

Liberator of the oppressed was the Green Beret motto. Never mind he hadn’t been able to save his brother from his internal torments.

“I’m not just anyone. You can count on me to do my best to help you, Hadley.”

That seemed to satisfy her. She grabbed her backpack along with another small bag, then closed the door to the bedroom. Cooper brushed off the faint stirrings in his heart and searched his refrigerator, scolding himself for not keeping it reasonably stocked. Eggs. That was all he had. It would have to do.

While he whipped up scrambled eggs, minus butter or bacon on the side, he considered all his options.

God, how do I keep her safe? How do I stop this contract out on her?

First thing he should do starting tomorrow was give her a few wilderness survival pointers, in case she really had to disappear on her own. In case the worst happened and Cooper was taken out. He couldn’t discount that possibility.

Then there was the fact that even if that bad guy was dead, another would come after her. The next attempt on her life might be the last if they succeeded. The new guy might not be interested in playing first.

So Cooper needed to keep her good and hidden.

And he needed to warn the others around him, his family and employees, to keep an eye out for anyone who acted suspicious.

He finished the eggs and dumped them on a plate and set it with a fork on the small table. Poured a glass of water. Grabbed the salt-and-pepper shaker and searched for a paper towel. A napkin. Something to show her he was civilized.

The fixings were slim around here. If he were looking to impress her, he was sure to fail. Good thing he wasn’t looking.

A knock came at his door.

That would be either Deputy Callahan or...

Someone to kill Hadley.


FIVE (#ulink_46a8b0a7-8ef5-522e-be94-f9587a185f77)

A hot shower had never felt so good. Too bad she couldn’t stay there forever. When she was done cleaning up, Hadley dug in the bag for the few extra items of clothing she’d bought and found something to wear. She changed into a clean T-shirt and pulled on sweats, which she’d sleep in tonight. She tugged a hoodie over towel-dried hair, her bruised muscles and sore body aching with the effort.

Too bad the shower hadn’t washed away the treachery of the day. Today had been the worst day of her life, and it seemed there was no end in sight. How would Hadley know when it was over? How could she find out about the contract on her life?

Was she wrong to take Cooper up on his offer? Was she too naive to see that she couldn’t trust him? And even if she could trust him, she had to remember that she was putting him in danger and he could die, too, because of her.

Her thoughts shifted away from her plight when her stomach rumbled at the aroma of eggs, and her heart melted, just a little, at the idea of Cooper cooking for her—taking care of her. She opened the door and walked into the small kitchenette to see the plate of food set out for her. Water, utensils and a napkin. But no Cooper? The chair scraped when she tugged it from the table to sit. The food would get cold if she didn’t eat it. Cooper had more to take care of than her, so she wouldn’t worry about him.

Hunger overtook her. Hadley ate the eggs and could have easily licked the plate but she remembered her manners, even though she was alone. She finished off the water and went to the kitchen to get more.

Images flashed from her terrifying ordeal. A shudder ran over her. She was alone in this apartment. She didn’t even know who this guy was. Not really. But she’d made up her mind that she had to take shelter here at least for the night.

If only it weren’t so eerie and quiet. Hadley had never lived in fear before. Didn’t want to now, but she had no control over her trembling hands. Her spiking pulse.

Was she having some sort of PTSD episode? After what she’d been through, she wouldn’t be surprised. She didn’t want Cooper to see her like this.

Where had he gone? Hadley decided he must have gone down to his office to sleep. She locked the dead bolt on the door that led out back, surprised he hadn’t done that for her when he’d left. The door that opened up this apartment to the rest of the house only had a privacy lock on the knob. Anyone could open this with a kitchen utensil. She would have appreciated if he’d at least told her he was leaving for the night.

Guilt suffused her. Who was she to run this guy out of his apartment? To mess up his life?

God, I don’t know what else to do.

Cooper had been a lifesaver for her today—literally—and she shouldn’t be ungrateful. But she had no real way to show her gratitude. If anything, just being around him was punishing him by putting him at risk.

And with the thought it suddenly occurred to her she should watch the news to see if there was anything about her father. Murders occurred every day and not all of them were reported on the news. But there wasn’t a television in the apartment, anyway. Obviously, the man didn’t spend his time here except to sleep and fix some eggs in the morning. She tried to search the internet on her phone for some news, but the signal wasn’t that great and she couldn’t pull anything up. Just as well. As it was, she wasn’t sure she could face seeing news about her father right now.

So she washed the dishes and placed them in the rack, then did her bedtime routine as though nothing surreal had happened since last night when she’d gotten ready for bed—washed her face, brushed her teeth, plugged her phone in to charge, then climbed into the bed and pulled up the covers. She was almost too exhausted to care if someone wanted to kill her. Too exhausted to relive the horror of the day. Or the fact that her father had died before her eyes. Grief would bury her if she let it. The fear would strangle her.

For this moment in time, she’d allow herself to believe she was safe.

Thanks to Cooper.

God, please keep him safe. Please don’t let him die because he’s trying to help me. And please, can this just end? Can this be the last of it?

Her mind drifted along with her body as she welcomed sleep, surprised it would come—until a noise jerked her completely awake. She sat up in bed. Moonlight spilled into the window. Hadley slipped from the bed and cracked the bedroom door open; glad she’d left the lamp on in the living room.

The back door creaked. Hadley froze.

“Hadley, it’s just me.” Cooper slipped inside. He glanced around the room, then caught her standing at the bedroom door.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

She shut the door behind her. “It’s okay. I thought you’d gone for the night or I wouldn’t have locked you out.”

“You were in the shower when Deputy Callahan knocked, so I thought I’d talk to him outside.”

She stiffened. Mentally prepared to run. What had she been thinking to let her guard down? “Is he still here?”

“No. Relax, Hadley. He got another call. Domestic violence one town over. It’ll take him an hour to get there. A search and recovery will start in the morning for the man who fell. There’s nothing they can do tonight to find him. The region is too treacherous.” Cooper frowned. “I’ve been through something similar before and that was someone I wanted to find. Someone I prayed would survive. And there was still nothing I could do.”

She heard the pain in his voice, and she wanted to know that story, but he said no more about it. Deciding he might want her to change the subject, she asked, “You’re sure it’s a search and recovery, rather than a rescue?”

“If he’s still alive, he’s not waiting around for a rescue.”

He’d be coming for me, then. Hadley couldn’t help the shiver that ran over her.

“Don’t take that wrong. What I meant is that he’s dead. He’s gone. It’s a recovery.” Cooper sagged.

“Why do I get the sense you feel guilty about what happened? Do you think you could have done something more to save him?”

“No. I tried to pull him up. And when he fell, I called for help as soon as I could. I did everything I could. He went over the edge because of me...but he was trying to kill you. It was him or you. Him or us. I don’t feel guilty about that.”

The way he said those last words confirmed her suspicions. He felt guilty about something. There was something more, something deeper bothering the man. Was it to do with someone who fell into the river that he mentioned?

As an artist, Hadley made it a habit to look beyond the obvious. To see what others couldn’t. But she wouldn’t push him.

“What about the deputy, Cooper? What did you tell him about me?”

“Nothing. I had just started telling him what happened when the emergency call came in and he had to leave. That’ll give me the night to figure things out. He knows I fought a guy who fell in the gorge. That’s enough for now.”

“Oh, Cooper. Is he going to investigate to make sure you didn’t murder someone today?”

“You ask too many questions. I need to go so you can get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Are you going to call your connections?”

He shrugged. “Eventually, I guess—but not right now. You’re safe tonight, Hadley. That’s all that matters. We’ll figure out how to keep you safe tomorrow.”

“And the next day?” Hadley wasn’t sure why she prodded him. She wasn’t his responsibility, after all.

Maybe she just didn’t want to be alone.

She held his gaze, hating that she felt utterly exposed. Completely transparent. She could never have made a good spy, unlike her father.

Something shifted behind Cooper’s steely blues. He released a sort of huff-laugh and closed the distance. What was he doing? Um...no, just no. Hadley put her hands up, prepared to defend herself.

And Cooper pulled her into his arms. Held her tight. His action surprised her. Seemed out of character, but now that she felt the comfort and strength he emanated she understood him better. He wanted to show her, in a physical way, that he could protect her. That he would protect her.

As if fighting off her assassin hadn’t been enough.

“You’ve been through a lot today. But it’s okay—you can rest now. Nobody’s going to find you tonight. Even if they did, they’d have to go through me first.”

Hadley didn’t want to let go, to let herself trust, or soak up what he was giving, but she couldn’t help it. She clung to this stranger who’d risked his life for her.

* * *

What am I doing?

Cooper was usually better at controlling himself.

He’d thought by living here in Gideon surrounded by more wilderness than civilization, teaching others how to survive, he could keep the evil in this world out. But looked like it had found him all the same. He had no choice but to step up—helping Hadley was his duty. Not even his father could argue with him there.

But holding her in his arms? That wasn’t exactly his duty.

He should release her, but she clung to him now, and trembled against him. Cooper didn’t want to feel. Not like this. But her fear—the utter injustice of her situation—pinged against the wall around his heart. Slowly, he released her. Couldn’t have imagined it would be that hard.

Holding her at arm’s length, he looked into her translucent eyes, the golds and greens stunning him again. But he shook off the effect she had on him. She needed him to be a warrior, a protector, nothing more.

Both uncertainty and strength mingled behind her gaze. Good. She’d need the strength to see her through, just as he would. The uncertainty couldn’t be helped.

“I don’t want you to risk your life,” she said. “Not for me.”

Then who else would be up to the task? But Cooper didn’t ask her that. “I have experience in doing just that. You should be glad you found your way here. Take comfort in that, and get some sleep.”

Somehow, he needed to extract himself from this moment. She was...vulnerable. And though he never would have expected it, she’d exposed his vulnerability as well.

She nodded. “Okay...okay, I’ll sleep. You get some rest, too.”

Once she was at the bedroom door, she glanced back. “And, Cooper...”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you, again.”

He nodded. Dead-bolted the back entrance, then he exited through the other door that opened up into the house and his business, then locked her in good and tight with his key.

He struggled to wrap his mind around the events of the day. He’d battled with a hit man—a professional assassin—and that man had warned that someone else would be sent. If he could believe the man’s words, then how quickly would the next one arrive? How could he find Hadley here? There was one treacherous road into town from the coast and another from the east. That was a deterrent for some, but not for someone truly determined.




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