Not a Hero

by Cherise Sinclair

  Blankets and heat packs were available in a box inside the vehicle.

  “We’re ready if we’re needed.” Sarah glanced toward the forest, her lips compressed. “Let’s hope our work is in vain and they find Niko quickly.”

  Audrey said a silent prayer.

  Ten minutes later, Tucker limped out of the forest, supported by a bearded man. The two headed straight for the SUV.

  “Tucker, what happened?” Audrey hurried to open a camp chair so he could sit under the canopy.

  “Stepped right into a be-damned hole in a clear-cut area. This ol’ leg of mine doesn’t bend like it used to.” He slapped his thigh. “Twisted my ankle.”

  Sarah shook her head and gave the other man a cup of coffee.

  “Thankee, Sarah.”

  Tucker looked up at his friend. “Appreciate the help, Guzman.”

  “No problem.” Guzman chugged the coffee. “I’ll get back to the search. You’ll take care of him?”

  Sarah nodded. “Leave him to us. Good luck.”

  As Guzman jogged back into the forest, Audrey handed Tucker a mug of coffee. “How is the search going?”

  “Thanks, Audrey.” He took a sip and sighed with pleasure. “I gotta say I was worried when Dante didn’t lead us out. But the Okie was right. MacNair’s damn good. He followed Chevy’s trail slicker’n grease through a goose. After finding where the bear attacked, he picked up the kid’s tracks. But we stalled out in the clear-cut.”

  A clear-cut meant loggers had taken all the trees down, making a treeless area filled with slash. “Why?”

  “The clear-cut was where Chevy shot the moose.” Shifting uncomfortably, Tucker rubbed his leg.

  Audrey frowned. First aid manuals said sprains and such should be elevated. She pulled another chair close.

  “Good plan.” Understanding, Sarah lifted Tucker’s injured leg so Audrey could push the chair under it.

  “Wouldn’t a clearing make tracking easier?”

  “Thank you, ladies.” Tucker glanced at Audrey. “Not easier. See there were moose tracks and lots of Chevy and Niko’s tracks all over the place from them doing the butchering. Then you add in bear tracks, and you got a shitload of sign. The Chief was doing a wide circle to try to spot the boy’s tracks outside the mess.”

  “The bear didn’t attack the child?” Sarah asked.

  “Nope. MacNair showed us where the sow’s cubs caught up with her, and she lost interest in the chase.”

  Thank God.

  Tucker scowled. “Chevy was probably so stoked about getting a moose, he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. Stupid mistake. Now he’s gashed up, will lose the meat, and get a hefty fine. I just hope we can find his boy.”

  “Yes.” Find the boy, Gabe. Please.

  As a gust of wind blew icy cold rain in his face, Gabe circled the clear-cut where Chevy had butchered the moose. He hoped to pick up the child’s tracks and be able to narrow the search.

  Everyone else was following the grid pattern he’d laid out.

  No one had found anything. Dammit. Frustration gnawed at his nerves. Thank God, it was almost summer solstice, and they still had hours of daylight left. But a frightened boy could run far and fast. The kid was probably drenched and, with the temp in the low fifties, was headed for hypothermia.

  What he wouldn’t give for level terrain and open forest. But, noooo. Instead, the old slash from the cleanup of spruce bark beetle kill made for unstable footing—and his hip was aching like hell. Low blueberry and crowberry shrubs dotted the area, interspersed with reed grass and fescue. None of it was good for reading sign.

  He shrugged his raingear closer and kept moving, gaze on what was under his feet.

  There. A scrape, almost blotted out by the tracks of another searcher. Someone had missed the kid’s footprints. Easy to do. Lightweight children didn’t leave as much sign as an adult.

  He looked out farther. That patch of crushed grass could’ve been from an animal, but no, there was the curve of a shoe. The semi-circle was too narrow to be from a man’s footwear.

  He spotted a handprint. Then a toe print. Wanting to ensure the sow lost sight of him, the boy had crawled through the low shrubs. Of course, the sow wouldn’t have any trouble finding the kid’s scent, but out of sight, out of mind never hurt. Smart kid.

  Looked as if Niko had headed directly toward the closest edge of the forest, the place where shrubs gave way to spruce and hemlock.

  “You got something?” Bull tossed him part of a granola bar.

  “Yeah.” Gabe pointed to the pattern from a hiking shoe.

  “Good job.”

  Chewing the sweet oatmeal bar, Gabe followed the tracks for a few more feet. Yep, this was the way.

  He raised his voice. “Over here. Fall in.”

  As he led the way, it felt good to have Bull at his back. The others followed in a fan pattern, watching for anything he might miss.

  When they reached the forest, Gabe found muddy footprints and scraped bark on a trunk where the kid had scrambled up a tree.

  Bull pointed out a deeper footprint where the boy had jumped down later. “He probably waited to be sure the sow was gone.”

  “There’s no blood.” Dante’s comment made everyone smile.

  “The sow never caught him. He’s just scared and”—Gabe sighed as the footprints led right into the forest—“he’s lost the way back.”

  Hell. Gabe glanced at the sky again. If they didn’t find Niko in another hour, he’d call in SAR dogs from Soldotna. He motioned to Guzman and Erica. “Mark the path, if you would, please.”

  They took out flagging.

  A while later, Bull knelt and showed where a broken patch of grass was starting to spring back upright. “We’re catching up to him.”

  “Yeah, we’re close.” Gabe nudged his brother. “You have a voice, bro. Use it.”

  “Niko. Niko!” Bull’s roar could probably be heard in Rescue.

  The searchers’ startled laughter faded as they listened.

  And got a response.

  “Here. I’m he-re!” The boy’s voice was faint—and broke on the second here. But the kid was alive. Able to shout.

  Thank fuck. Gabe had to clear the thickness from his throat before yelling, “Stay put, Niko. We’re coming. Stay where you are.”

  Stepping back, Gabe let the others surge forward. His crew had worked hard—and this was the best reward ever.

  They found the child curled up in the hollow of a fallen tree. Wet, shaking with cold…and alive.

  Relief weakened Gabe’s knees. And the impact of a little body hitting him made him stagger.

  “I knew you’d come, Chief. Knew you’d find me.” The kid burrowed against him, skinny arms clinging like vines.

  Gabe felt his heart turn to a slushy mess. “I think about everyone in town is out here looking for you.” And it was the truth.

  Hell of a town.

  Dante tossed him a blanket, and Gabe wrapped it around the kid before lifting him up. “Let’s get you back to your family. Your pa’s gonna have some interesting scars, but looks like he’ll be all right.”

  Niko sagged and then buried his face against Gabe’s neck and cried.

  Gabe had to blink back his own fucking tears.

  They’d walked about a mile before the kid’s sobs turned to snuffles, and his head lifted.

  Good enough. Smiling, Gabe ruffled his hair. “So, how’s your new dog doing?”

  “He’s so smart!”

  “Yeah, how do you know?” Bull took the exhausted boy, pretended to drop him, and made him giggle.

  “We’re not supposed to feed him people food, but he sneaks under the table when we’re eating. And if I forget to give him a bite, he puts his paw on my foot.”

  Gabe grinned. “Yep, sounds pretty smart.”

  “And after he chewed up Dad’s knife sheath—his favorite rawhide one—he hid in the back of my closet.”

  Walking in front of them, Guzman turned. “The
pup’s still alive after that?”

  “Dad yelled,” Niko admitted. “Then he laughed and said I owe him a new sheath, and he’ll teach me how to make it.”

  Gabe blinked. Who’d have thought Chevy would be so patient?

  When Guzman took his turn carrying the boy, Gabe joined Bull to play rear guard and ensure no one got lost. The entire group was in high spirits. Just about every damn person had slapped Gabe on the back with compliments on his tracking expertise.

  Jesus.

  In the clear-cut, Dante slowed to examine where Gabe had picked up Niko’s tracks. “Can’t believe you spotted this, Chief. Nice job.”

  Gabe shrugged. “I got lucky.”

  “Bullshit.” Bull traced the faint outline of Nico’s sneaker. “You were always better than any of us. Glad to see you haven’t lost your skill, bro.”

  “Bro?” Erica, one of the two female searchers, looked back. “How do you two know each other, anyway? I thought the chief was new to Alaska.”

  Bull hesitated and lifted his eyebrows at Gabe. Tell or not?

  Gabe rubbed his jaw. The sarge, being paranoid, had taught his boys not to share information about themselves with anyone.

  But… Mako was dead. And they were part of this town.

  Gabe nodded.

  “We were raised as brothers,” Bull said. “Off the grid down by Seward.”

  The half-dozen people within hearing all turned to stare.

  “I’ll be damned,” one man muttered. “No wonder he tracks like that.”

  Gabe huffed a laugh. It’d felt good to put his skills to use. And to lead a team again. He glanced at the men and women. The townsfolk had dropped everything and pulled together to find the boy. Heartwarming.

  Speaking of heartwarming… When they emerged onto the road, there was Audrey.

  She ran over and threw her arms around him. “I knew you could find him.”

  When she went up on tiptoes to give him a lusty kiss, the men around him chuckled.

  Gabe didn’t give a damn. This right here, this openhearted woman was exactly what he needed. He took himself another kiss before letting her go.

  As Sarah took charge of the boy, Audrey bustled about, wrapping chilled searchers in blankets, giving them heat packs, and serving them hot drinks.

  His mug of coffee came with a quick kiss and another hug, despite the fact he was soaking wet.

  As she hurried to the next person, he stared after her. Because, one kiss…or one summer for that matter, wasn’t enough.

  He wanted more.

  A lifetime sounded about right.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  At home, Audrey grinned at herself in the mirror as she got ready to head to the roadhouse for the evening. It’d been a great Thursday, so far.

  Before leaving to shop in Anchorage, Dante had studied the grocery comparison pricing she’d prepared. It showed how he might cut his overhead with selective buying. Since the store ran close to the red, she’d hoped to give him a better profit margin.

  After reading her notes, the tough old Okie had actually hugged her.

  Once he’d returned, she spent the rest of the day in the library. With Knox’s help, she’d unpacked—and gloated over—the new novels that’d come in.

  Even better, Gabe had popped in to drop off sodas and steal a kiss.

  She ran her finger over her mouth, still feeling the tingle.

  Who would have thought such a deadly man could be so affectionate? He was polite—never grabbed her ass or fondled her in public—but whether they were alone or in public, he’d touch her. Put his arm around her. Even kiss her. He enjoyed being with her and didn’t care who knew it.

  God, she loved him.

  No, no, no. Fling. We’re having a fling, remember?

  Firmly burying her wayward emotions, she studied herself in the ancient, rather hazy mirror.

  Perfect.

  Her lashes and eyebrows were a dark brown-black, her eyes sultry, her mouth lush. A touch of bronzer had emphasized her cheekbones.

  And, look, Ma, I have cleavage.

  Yesterday, when she was helping Lillian clean out her closet, the older woman had given Audrey grief about her shapeless, worn clothing. “My dear girl, it’s quite true Alaskans put little stock in a person’s attire. However, it’s a woman’s prerogative to indulge in dressing up now and then. Just for herself.”

  Audrey had nodded her understanding.

  “Good. Since I no longer wear low-cut clothing, you should take these and put them to good use.” Lillian had presented her with several sexy tops.

  Audrey grinned at the memory. Lillian was like the mother she never had.

  Audrey checked the mirror again. Over the past weeks, she hadn’t missed makeup, styling her hair, or wearing suits. But, Lillian was right. She was ready to go all female for one evening.

  One of her escape guises had been an overly made-up redhead. After digging out those cosmetics earlier, she’d indulged.

  Turning her head from side-to-side, she smiled. The makeup hadn’t reached the I’m-a-prostitute heaviness, but she looked different. And good.

  Who knew, maybe she’d get better tips.

  Two hours later, Audrey knew her tips, especially from tourists, had gone up. Yay sexy clothing and makeup.

  Having wall-to-wall customers didn’t hurt. The roadhouse was celebrating summer solstice, the longest day of the year, and Bull had brought in live music.

  Although she was running her aching feet off, she’d received so many appreciative looks that her ego was soaring. Wasn’t it silly to invest so much into her appearance? And she really hoped Gabe would be in and see her all done up.

  As Audrey stopped at a table to leave drinks, Irene patted her beehive hair. “I heard you helped out during the search the other day. Good girl.”

  The approving nod from the cantankerous postmistress made Audrey’s day.

  Irene’s balding husband leaned forward. “Have you heard if Chevy is all right?”

  “He came home from the Soldotna hospital last night.” Between Gabe and Sarah, Audrey knew all the good gossip. “They had to pump him full of antibiotics since some of those gashes were down to the bone.”

  “Yeeouch,” the man muttered.

  “I know, right?” Ew. “But Niko is fine, and Chevy’s wife told Sarah that people had dropped off food, so she could spend her time looking after Chevy—who is grateful to be alive and grumpy as all get out.”

  “That sounds like him.” With a disapproving sniff, Irene looked at her husband. “Nonetheless, we’ll go by his place this weekend and lend a hand.”

  “Yes, dear.”

  Audrey smiled. Yesterday, she’d heard the postmistress scold a teen for a poor packing job, and then Irene brought out tape and fixed the package for the boy. All bark and no bite.

  A flash of pink drew Audrey’s attention, and she waved at Felix who waited tables on the other side of the room. He gave her a big grin. Wearing a florescent pink shirt, he was openly flirting with a linebacker-sized tourist. Go, Felix.

  She took drink orders from three fishermen, who were discussing the various Kenai River fishing charters. The salmon runs had started, and the riverbanks were crowded with fishermen.

  Audrey grinned, remembering a blanket, a riverbank…and Gabe. They’d been lucky not to be caught, really. No more riverbank sex during the busy salmon season, that was for sure.

  But Gabe and Tucker had promised to instruct her in the intricacies of salmon fishing. She was looking forward to the fun.

  At the bar, she gave Bull the new orders and started to pick up a newly filled tray. Then her feet seemed to freeze to the floor.

  Leaning against the bar, Gabe stood next to Caz. On Gabe’s other side, Brooke from the ski resort posed on a barstool. The woman’s silky red shirt made her tanned skin glow and set off her brown hair.

  Seeing all that vivacious beauty, Audrey felt dull and pallid.

  “I love the idea of Rescue having a fes
tival or two.” Brooke’s dark eyes flashed with her enthusiasm. “McNally’s could co-host, and I’d be happy to set it up. Part of my job is finding ways to draw people to the area.”

  “I can see how more tourists would benefit the resort,” Gabe agreed.

  Brooke put her hand over his and leaned in. “Remember when we went to the jazz festival in Anchorage? Rescue could do something similar.”

  Picking up her tray of drinks, Audrey turned away. Deep in her chest, her heart ached. Why should seeing someone touch Gabe hurt so much? Audrey didn’t own him, after all.

  Brooke could help him with promoting Rescue. Like Audrey’s ex, Gabe probably wanted an eye-catching girlfriend who was skilled at working with people. Brooke not only had a history with Gabe, but also fit in here in Alaska.

  And the woman wasn’t leaving at the end of summer.

  Remember, dummy? You’re not staying here. Even though Gabe occasionally mentioned returning to his isolated cabin, she knew he’d stay. Neither the town nor his brothers would let him leave.

  Brooke might weigh in, too. After all, the social director would be the perfect complement to the town’s leader.

  Audrey wanted to rip the woman’s oh-so-perfect hair out.

  Trying not to listen for Gabe’s sexy low laughter, Audrey delivered her orders. The last three drinks went to Tucker, Guzman, and Knox, who’d settled at a table by the door.

  She made her voice light and managed a smile. “How is your leg, Tucker?”

  “It just needed a day of rest, and I was fine. Next time I tackle uneven ground, I’m taking a hiking stick.”

  “That sounds like a plan.” As a roar of laughter came from the bar, she glanced over to see that Brooke was entertaining everyone.

  Audrey sighed. She’d never fit in the way Brooke did. Would always be the outsider as well as the Outsider.

  Knox had followed her gaze, and his jaw turned rigid. “Don’t let that bimbo bother you. You’re worth a dozen of her.”

  Audrey blinked.