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The woman cast him an icy, skeptical look as she seemed to contemplate her response.
chapterfive
Andi staredat the man as she considered what to do.
A woman alone, stranded on a highway had to be cautious. She stared at the man. Mr. Gallant, she’d decided. His macho gestures earned him that nickname.
“Fine.” Andi kept her voice firm and steady. “I’ll go with you—but I’m bringing my gun.”
Whenever she was scared, her Southern accent seemed to get stronger—and it was full-blown right now.
Mr. Gallant tilted his head. “You might scare my passengers.”
She eyed the man. “You saying you don’t have a gun?”
He opened his mouth as if to deny it, but then closed it before saying, “I do.”
“Then I’m bringing one also. I gotta make it fair. Can’t bring a knife to a gunfight. Am I right?”
His gaze met hers, something uneasy in his eyes. “I suppose a single woman traveling out in the wilds of Alaskashouldbe prepared and carrying a weapon.”
She stepped closer, something about his mention of a “single woman” irritating her. “Just in case she meets a brute of a man who thinks she’s weak and helpless?”
She resisted a frown. That hadn’t been nice. However, she needed to make it clear she wasn’t a weakling—or a victim.
Mr. Gallant’s gaze softened a moment. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then whatdidyou mean?” The question seemed fair.
But something about this guy . . . maybe he reminded her a little too much of Stockton with his cocky attitude and men-rule-the-world aura. At first, she’d found those qualities adorable. And now . . . well, now none of that mattered.
“I meant, grab whatever you need and hop in.” He nodded toward his SUV, ignoring her question, probably thinking it was frivolous. “It’s cold out here.”
Maybe her question was frivolous.
Andi grabbed her leather saddlebag, tucked her gun inside, then followed Mr. Gallant toward his SUV.
She glanced around one more time, searching for any signs of life. But it was nearly impossible to see anything in these conditions. The storm was only supposed to get worse as the evening turned into night.
The man stood beside the passenger door and stared at her, snow sticking to lashes so thick they could be fake—but they weren’t. This guy could grace the cover ofAlaska Livingright now with his snow-sprinkled face.
“I’ll take you back to the Almost Halfway Trading Post so you can stay warm while you figure out the truck situation,” the man said.
Just as Andi nodded at him, a pop filled the air.
Was that . . . a gunshot?
Panic surged through her.
Maybe Victor really was behind this.
If Andi died out here, he just might get away with ruining all those lives . . . and with murder.
chaptersix
I stared at the studio,trying to ignore the fresh blood on my hands.
Are you washed in the blood? In the soul-cleansing blood of the lamb?
