Silent Hunter

by Maggie K. Black

  The woman’s words tickled at the back of her memory. A tiny flicker of hope brushed the edges of her heart. She’d heard someone stand by this water’s edge and say those very words before. But, could it be...?

  Nicky stood. “Thank you. These are two very generous offers and I’m more grateful than I can say. Yes, it might be hard to get my head around new co-owners and a new vision, but I love this camp and believe in it with my whole heart. So as long as you’re willing to stick through it with me, I’m willing to stick through it with you.”

  “Wonderful.” Tabitha stood and shook Nicky’s hand. Then she glanced over Nicky’s shoulder. “He told me you’d probably say that.”

  “Who?” Nicky turned.

  But no sooner had the words left her lips, than she saw the tall, broad-shouldered man in blue jeans, a blazer and tie leaning against a tree. Her heart rose in her chest.

  Luke started down the path toward her. Tabitha said something to him quietly, then smiled and walked back up toward to the construction site.

  Nicky barely noticed her go. Her eyes swept over Luke. The lines of his shoulders were stronger and more confident than when she’d seen him last. But his eyes—oh, his eyes—their depths shone with the same intensity that had haunted her dreams for years.

  “Hi, Nicky.”

  “Hi.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. She could feel a smile curling up at the edges of her lips. “So, let me get this straight. I don’t hear from you for months. No letters, no emails, not so much as a phone call. Then you show up here, unannounced, and try to convince me to leave this place?”

  “No. I came back here feeling foolish for the doubts that drove me away, thankful that you gave me the kick I needed to work through them, and hoping very, very much you’d be willing to stay.”

  Understanding filled her heart. “So that thing George asked of you that you didn’t feel capable of...was to take over as the new managing director.”

  He nodded. “I’m sorry, Nicky. In that moment the doubts were clanging so loudly in my mind, I had to run away from here to see that this is where I belonged.” He stepped toward her, so close now she could almost feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath in his chest brush against her still-folded arms.

  “The funny thing is, it took me hours. Mere hours to know you were right, that I could let go of the past and be the kind of man this camp needed at its helm. That I could be the kind of man you needed me to be. But by that point, what could I do? I couldn’t pursue a relationship with you knowing I might become your boss. It was a double-edged sword. The one thing pulling me toward you seemed to be the very thing forcing us apart.”

  She nodded. “I understand.”

  His fingers brushed along her arms, gently prying them apart. “Trust me, waiting for this day to come, waiting to be here talking to you, has been the most agonizing wait of my life.”

  She let him pull her arms apart, tingling with the brush of his fingers on her skin. “Do you honestly think I want you to be my boss?”

  “No.” A smile crossed his lips, setting warmth alight in his eyes. “But I’m hoping you’re willing to be my partner, Nicky, in this camp and in my life. Which is why I fought tooth and nail for you to get a percentage of this camp. Taking it out of my share, in fact. Giving you just enough that if I lose my edge, and if you ever side against me with the other directors, I’m forced into a stalemate.” His fingers brushed along her palms. “See, there’s no way I could ever hope to run this place without you. I need you, Nicky. This camp needs you—this complicated, scrappy, determined, beautiful place that is so very, terribly, inexorably you.”

  His hands slid around her waist. Her hands slid around his neck. He pulled her closer still until she could feel his heart beating into hers.

  “Nicky, please...” His voice brushed gruffly against her ear. “Please, tell me, officially, you’re either taking the severance package or agreeing to become a co-owner and codirector. Because until you do, I’m still your pending boss, so I can’t let myself kiss you...and I’ve been waiting to kiss you for so very long.”

  Her eyes closed. His lips nibbled her neck, sending shivers dancing down her skin. She ran her fingers through his wild, dark hair. “Promise me you’ll never run away again.”

  He pulled back, just enough that he could look into her eyes. “Nicky Trailer, my friend, my beauty, who has shared her heart, mind and strength with me—I admire you, I respect you, I need you and, above all, I love you. You have held my heart in your hands ever since we first met in these woods so many years ago, and I am done running away from being a man worthy of you.” He curled her hair between his fingers. “I’m not going anywhere. I am in love with you, Nicky, and I always will be.”

  Joy danced in her eyes like sunlight on the water. “I love you, too, Luke. And yes, together, we’re going to make this place something great.”

  He glanced to the sky above. “Thank You, God!”

  A cool breeze shook the trees around them and leaves cascaded down, as gently but firmly his mouth found hers in a kiss.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from MANHUNT by Lisa Phillips.

  Dear Reader,

  Right now, I’m sitting in a wood cabin on the shores of Lake Rousseau, Ontario, watching trees dance in the breeze. It’s been a year since an enthusiastic young man—one of two great twins who work here—helped me brainstorm ways these woods, lake and people might inspire a story.

  What I love about Luke and Nicky is that they’re both struggling to overcome things in their pasts. Both, in different ways, are afraid of change. Last year, I doubted whether I’d ever be able to translate all the fledgling ideas I got from these woods into the book you’re now holding in your hands. In the same way, sometimes it’s hard to believe what’s happened in our past won’t always shape our future.

  Like the twins who encouraged me, I pray you’ll find people in your lives who’ll help you through challenges, adventures and struggles you face.

  Thank you so much for sharing this journey with me. To find out more about me and about my books, please visit me online at www.maggiekblack.com and follow me on Twitter at @maggiekblack.

  Every blessing,

  Maggie

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense story.

  You enjoy a dash of danger. Love Inspired Suspense stories feature strong heroes and heroines whose faith is central in solving mysteries and saving lives.

  Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired Suspense every month!

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  HarlequinBlog.com

  http://www.harlequin.com/harlequinexperience

  ONE

  The shackled man in the orange jumpsuit sat between US Marshal Hailey Shelder and her new partner. The SUV rumbled down the dark highway at two in the morning while rain pounded on the windshield. It had been raining for days, a torrent that left ranches and farms waterlogged and roadways covered with a sheet of water.

  Hailey tapped her foot. The excess adrenaline of a prisoner transfer coursed white-hot in her veins, leaving her wide awake. But all she was doing was sitting in the backseat waiting for...nothing would be great. No activity at all. Just the routine movement of prisoner to airplane, and then they could go home.

  Hailey should have been dead asleep in a food coma after her evening watching back-to-back cartoon movies with Kerry that they’d both seen a million times already—not to mention all that popcorn. But she wasn’t going to skip her Friday night movie date with her twelve-year-old da
ughter, not even for a middle-of-the-night fugitive transfer. And definitely not when her ex-husband had Kerry every other weekend.

  Half an hour out of town, the SUV pulled into the tiny airfield they used for covert, nighttime prisoner transfers. It was an out-of-the-way airport usually used for scenic tours of central Oregon—tours that strategically circled around the valley where the federal penitentiary was located. The airport was only two buildings and the runway, which was enough for them to make use of. The Marshals Service didn’t need the audience a bigger airport would give them.

  “I can’t believe it’s still pouring.” Hailey’s new partner, Eric Hanning, leaned forward to look around the fugitive. “What is with this state? Is it ever going to stop raining?”

  Hailey couldn’t stop the little flip of her heart every time he turned those blue eyes in her direction. Even though it was dark in the car, she could still picture them. She shrugged, as if his presence was all the same to her. Maybe if she pretended for long enough it would become true. Besides, it wasn’t like they got along.

  “Maybe in a week or two.” Hailey didn’t want him getting his hopes up that the weather would clear. The rainfall had exceeded record amounts days ago, but the Arizona transplant didn’t know that.

  She and Eric had butted heads at every available opportunity since he’d joined the team. His insistence on learning and then implementing every nuance of procedure was exhausting. At least the difference in their personalities served to defuse whatever attraction was there.

  Office lore said Eric Hanning had been transferred from WITSEC. It must have been hard for him to go from something that cushy to a fugitive apprehension task force. But she wasn’t going to cut him any slack—that wasn’t how their world worked.

  Hailey was the only woman on the eight-man team, and she was finally not the rookie anymore. Eric Hanning might shape up to be useless as a field marshal, but he was at least good for getting her out of the lowest spot.

  Truthfully, Eric was so good-looking she could barely form sentences when his attention was on her—but she was trying to beat that, because those feelings had gotten her in trouble before. It didn’t mean he was anything special, just that God had chosen to give him a face that could’ve been in movies.

  And while Eric was probably a perfectly nice guy, Hailey was done with romantic relationships. Her ex-husband had soured her on even the idea of getting back into all that.

  Deputy Marshal Jackson Parker, her coworker and tonight’s driver, wound the vehicle between the office and the hangar. Yellow floodlights illuminated the corrugated walls of the building on her side. The prisoner shifted, and Hailey whipped her head back around to look at him. The last thing she wanted was any funny business. This needed to go smooth and easy, because she had every intention of getting home in time for Saturday-morning waffles.

  Deputy Marshal Wyatt Ames sat in the front passenger seat. Both he and Parker were big guys, and it was squished enough in the backseat with the fugitive in the middle of Hailey and Eric.

  The fugitive didn’t move again. The shackles on his wrists and ankles didn’t afford him much reach, but he’d still be able to do some damage in such close quarters. And Steve Farrell was notorious for the damage he could do.

  His rap sheet was a lengthy list that included assault and murder, and he’d been found in possession of drugs and a stash of deadly weapons big enough to start a coup. He didn’t discriminate either. Men, women and children had been left in his wake. In her estimation, he was about a millimeter south of pure scum, but soon he would be off to his permanent stay in the California federal prison system.

  Visibility outside was six feet, barely. But a jet on the runway would have been unmistakable. Hailey craned her neck and looked out each of the windows. “It’s not here.”

  Eric lifted his watch so she could see the display. Who even wore a watch these days? Not that she could have gotten to her phone right now with all the gear she had on and the rifle she was holding. The illuminated screen on Eric’s watch read 2:07 a.m., so they had another eight minutes until the plane was due.

  Eric said, “I’m ready to get this done and get home.”

  Ames turned back to them from the front passenger seat. “Prisoner transfer cutting into your beauty sleep?”

  Parker and Ames both laughed, though their humor had an edge to it, which wasn’t surprising. None of them would totally relax until the prisoner was safely on the plane and out of their custody. Hailey didn’t react. She knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of their razzing.

  Parker left the engine running and they waited. Five minutes later the radio on the dash crackled to life and the plane’s pilot radioed in that they were two minutes out. Hailey heard the transmission echo in her earpiece.

  Parker confirmed they were in place and ready. After he said, “Over,” he nodded to Ames, who called the office on his cell phone and confirmed they were ready to begin the transfer.

  Ames hung up the phone. “Green light.”

  “Let’s get this show on the road.” Parker accepted his rifle from Ames, who’d been holding both weapons.

  “Seriously, that’s the best you can come up with?” Ames asked. “‘Let’s get this show on the road?’”

  Parker sneered. “Excuse me if my mental faculties are otherwise occupied.”

  “Yeah, it must be tough to have to concentrate on walking the orange jumpsuit from here, to down there.” Ames pointed down the runway.

  “Let’s just go, okay?” Eric was apparently determined to be the voice of reason, but Hailey didn’t mind.

  She said, “Agreed. If we’re going to get drenched anyway, then I’d rather get out now and get on with this.”

  Parker turned to them, his eyes on the prisoner. “Let’s move.”

  They climbed out and walked to the runway as the four corners of a square, with Steve Farrell in the center. The downpour drowned out all sound except rain hitting the concrete and her jacket. In the distance, the airplane’s lights came into view, high in the sky.

  Rain poured off the sides of her helmet as Hailey scanned the area, keeping her senses open in case Farrell tried something. Her clothes had gained fifteen pounds of water that penetrated through to the tank top underneath. Even her socks were wet in her boots. When she took off her helmet later, her hair was going to be a giant red fuzz ball.

  Out here in the middle of the night Hailey wasn’t an individual, but part of a team made of four marshals guarding one fugitive. They had to get the man onto the airplane, and nothing else mattered beyond that, their most important objective. Any help they could call in was half an hour away.

  * * *

  “Go!” On Parker’s command they speed-walked the prisoner to the runway. There was no hanging around. This wasn’t about any of them. Except in the case of a debilitating injury, each marshal just had to do his or her job. It was a far cry from WITSEC, but getting his cover blown as an inspector for witness protection—by a reporter, no less...well, that hadn’t been in the plan either.

  Two months now. Two months of his life being upside down. Two months of fugitive apprehension and prisoner transfers. Two months on a team with Hailey Shelder.

  He’d denounced romantic relationships altogether after his fiancée had been paralyzed. Because while Eric would have stayed with Sarah forever, she’d pushed him away and refused to believe he still loved her. He’d tried to get her to listen, but eventually he’d been forced to face the fact she didn’t want him anymore.

  Eric risked a glance across the huddle as they strode to the plane. Hailey was all business, just one of the guys, dressed in the same bulky outfit they all wore. Her gun wasn’t even trembling, not like the tiny shift of his. Wasn’t she scared? His whole body was shaking, but if asked he’d have claimed it was the rain and the cold. Oregon seasons were killer to a g
uy who’d lived in Phoenix almost his whole adult life.

  Parker yelled, “Let’s go! Pick it up!”

  They had to get Farrell on that plane.

  Eric’s earpiece crackled. A voice came on, male. The man instructed the pilot there was a problem and he shouldn’t land. The wording was precise, using a code they only employed when there was an imminent threat.

  The team shifted. The only one who didn’t falter was Parker. “Hold.”

  The pilot radioed back. “Confirmed.” The plane banked left and circled around, flying away from them.

  “Huddle up.” On Parker’s order, they closed in and turned outward. Anyone who approached would have to face one of them, no matter what direction they were coming from.

  Ames said, “What’s going on? Who was that?”

  Parker, the former SEAL, shouted over the pounding rain. “We’re going back to the vehicle. On my—”

  Something bright cut through the darkness, barreling through the air from the tree line.

  Their SUV exploded.

  Eric choked on his gasp. He could see Hailey was itching to run. The fugitive, Farrell, began to laugh.

  They were cut off until someone could get there to assist them.

  Eric scanned the darkness, but he saw nothing. Even with the light of the SUV engulfed in flames, there was no sign of the threat in the deluge of rain.

  The fugitive bobbed from one foot to the other. His orange jumpsuit was drenched and his bulletproof vest was dripping, but he was still a beacon in the night. Someone out there had their eyes on the target. Whoever it was didn’t want Farrell on that plane. But were they here to kill him, or help him escape?