He pictured her walking to town, unprotected, and his blood ran cold. By choice he lived in one of the more remote areas of the lake, and the winding roads and wild forests provided ample opportunity for someone to get her, or shoot at her, or…
Snatching his car keys off the dresser, he stepped into a pair of shorts, dropped a T-shirt over his head and hurried for his truck.
He’d find her and bring her home.
Rounding the curve that led out of his subdivision, he noticed the traffic seemed unusually light, but then he remembered the tourists usually went home on Sundays.
A sniper wouldn’t try for her unless he had a clear shot.
Colton saw the car before he saw her. Driving way too fast, the white Cadillac Eldorado appeared aimed like a bullet at a figure walking on the side of the road.
Jewel!
He gunned his truck, moving over to the wrong side of the road to shield her.
She looked up. Saw him and the other vehicle bearing down on her.
Moving fast, she leaped for the trees.
The Caddy swerved, missing Colton by inches.
Bouncing over ruts, the truck tried to flip. Muscles screaming, Colton held on, praying he could maintain control. When he finally brought the pickup to a shuddering halt, there was no sign of the Cadillac.
Both the car—and Jewel—had disappeared.
He found her in a small thicket, shaking. When she saw him, she stepped out into a clearing, arms wrapped around her middle.
“They tried to hit me.” Though she gasped for breath, she didn’t sound surprised. But, despite her matter-of-fact tone, her nostrils flared and the whites of her eyes showed. Delayed terror?
When he reached to comfort her, she jerked away. “Don’t touch me.”
“What’s wrong?” Deliberately, he kept his voice soft. Soothing.
“Nothing,” she said, but she continued to watch him as if he were a venomous snake.
“Let me take you home.”
Skirting a wide path around him, she stepped over the ruts in the grass left by his tires, climbed into his truck and buckled herself in.
When he got in beside her, she gave an involuntary jerk, though she looked out the window rather than at him.
“Are you all right?”
“Fine,” she snapped. “Let’s get out of here.”
He started the engine, drove up the embankment, and back onto the road. For the first time since he’d met her, the silence between them felt uncomfortable. He couldn’t put his finger on what, but something had changed.
Was it because of the way he’d surprised her outside in his yard earlier that morning?
Why not simply ask her?
“I want to talk to you about what happened this morning.” Keeping an eye on the road, he also watched her for a reaction. Any reaction.
She gave none. “There’s nothing to say.” The flatness of her voice was as if she were talking to a stranger, not even a stranger she particularly liked.
“That’s it.” He pulled into his driveway and parked, leaving the engine idling. “What the hell is going on with you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She set her chin and crossed her arms. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go inside.”
