They were still a few minutes away from making their original meeting place. He could have asked help to come to the cabin, but he and Sylvie couldn’t outlast a gun battle there and would be long dead by the time help arrived. So he’d kept to his original plan, hoping he could evade their pursuers and arrive around the same time as their rescuers.
He’d asked that they come as soon as possible.
Now he wished he would have begged.
Come on, Chief Winters, where’s the helicopter? Where’s our rescue? Didn’t I make it clear we were on the run from killers?
Not clear enough, apparently. Will’s back and legs ached, but he kept moving toward the rendezvous point and in the opposite direction of the men after Sylvie. At least he hoped.
Finally, Will was spent. The muscles in his arms had been cramping for an hour. Still, even carrying a woman on his back, over rough and difficult terrain, they had made good time.
He let Sylvie off his back and nestled her against the thick trunk of a Hemlock. Moss grew at its base along with the vast greenery found in the temperate rainforest. He wished for the bluff with the boulders. That had been good, quiet and safe cover. But they could hide here, too, melt into the forest and wait it out until their rescue helicopter came.
Will leaned against the tree and hung his head to catch his breath. Gather his composure before she looked too long and hard at his face and saw the truth. Sylvie reached up and squeezed his arm. Reassurance?
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He peered at her. Those hazel eyes would get to him every time. “Don’t thank me yet.”
“Are we going to keep moving? What’s the plan?”
“No. We stay here. This is our rendezvous point—or near enough. But we need good cover until help comes. When we hear our helicopter, we’ll make a run for the meadow up a ways where it can land. From here, though, if we must, we hold our ground.”
She held up Snake’s weapon, a grin contrasting the somber expression in her eyes. “Like in an old shoot-’em-up movie.”
“Something like that, but let’s hope we don’t have to get into a shoot-out.” He hoped all that was left to do was wait and watch. Wait for the rescue helicopter. Watch for their assailants. He perused the woods. Heard nothing. Saw nothing.
“Right, because I’m no marksman.”
“I don’t know how many there are but I suspect two. Three at the most, but I’m hoping for one. I should be able to pick them off if I see them in time.”
Admiration filled her eyes, surprising him. Something warm tugged at him, fighting to get inside, but Will wouldn’t let it. He didn’t like that he cared what she thought about him. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized her opinion of him mattered. He wouldn’t let himself give in to the draw of her beauty, both inside and out. No, Sylvie wasn’t a manipulator like Michelle had been. Far from it. But that didn’t mean Will would allow himself to be vulnerable again.
“You’re full of surprises, Will Pierson.”
“There’s more where that came from.” He didn’t just say that.
“What do you mean?” She angled her head.
He paused before he answered, listening to their surroundings and watching the forest for signs of the men after them. Prickles crawled over him.
A bullet pinged against the tree above Will’s head. “Get down!”
Then another cracked the bark.
Will peered around the tree.
Aimed.
Fired twice.
The man ducked out of sight.
Again, Will watched and waited. He prayed they could get out of here without facing off with the men, but that was not to be. How many men were out there? Just the one he’d spotted, or were there more? He couldn’t be sure. After too much time had gone by without any more sound or movement, he thought he should check and see if he’d injured the man. He hadn’t shot to kill, would only take that step if there was no other choice. Instead, he was holding on to that one last hope their help would arrive and capture the men. He and Sylvie could get their answers that way.
But he’d protect her at all costs.
“Sylvie,” he whispered.
She didn’t answer.
“Sylvie?”
Will held his weapon steady but glanced behind him. She was slumped over. Will dropped his weapon and grabbed her, spotting a hole in her coat. He tugged it off her shoulder and down her arm.
There, red spread across her shirt. A lightning bolt of pain struck Will’s heart.
“Oh, no, please, no...”
He tugged the shirt open and found the gunshot wound through her shoulder, blood gushing out. His whole body shook at the sight. Ignoring the cold, he tugged off his coat and then shirt, pressing it against Sylvie’s wound. He prayed the bullet hadn’t nicked an artery, but this heavy bleeding told him otherwise.
I have to stop the bleeding.
“Sylvie, please don’t die on me, please don’t die.” Bile erupted in Will’s throat.
God, where is the rescue helicopter? Please, don’t let me down.
But Will had let Sylvie down. He told her that he’d protect her and keep her safe but his shots had been too little and too late. Her life poured from her, the shirt he’d used saturated with it. His hands were covered in her blood. Emotion burning behind his eyes, his heart tripped up, tumbled over.
She wasn’t going to make it.
EIGHT
The world spun around him—the trees and sky swirled, the brook trickled too loudly from a distance—then time seemed to slow along with the whop of rotor blades from the helicopter hovering above him.
Panic crawled over Will.
Was it their help arriving at last? Or the enemy helicopter? Will grappled with the sound, trying to recognize the kind of bird, but his focus was shot. His hands slicked with Sylvie’s blood, he grabbed his weapon, ready to protect her, defend her. But his head told his heart he was too late. He’d already failed.
Two men lowered from the helicopter. Faces he recognized. Cade Warren and a paramedic whose name failed him. He couldn’t comprehend their words as they pushed him back and away from Sylvie.
“No, stay away from her!” He yanked Cade away. But what was he doing?
Cade gripped Will’s shoulders, pinned him against the tree and removed the weapon from Will’s grasp. “We’re here to help. Get a grip, man. You’re in shock.”
Compassion eased into Cade’s expression. “Are you good?”
Stunned at the words, the truth of them, Will squeezed his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Just save her. Save her...”
He prayed that the world would quit tilting on him. “God, save Sylvie.”
I thought I could save her. That I could protect her. She was right next to me, behind me, practically. Behind the tree. And still, I let her get shot, and now she’s fighting for her life. How...how did this happen?
The next thing Will knew, they hoisted a basket holding Sylvie to the helicopter. Cade remained behind. Another man—a police officer—stood nearby, his gun drawn. How or when had he gotten there?
“Is she going to make it?” Will hung his head, seeing the blood-stained moss at the tree’s base. Would he ever forget that image? When Cade didn’t answer, Will lifted his gaze.
His expression grim, Cade said, “I don’t know.”
“When gunfire erupted, I returned fire. I wasn’t aiming to kill. Not yet. Just trying to hold out until you guys arrived. But the man never fired back. There was no movement. I need to know if I killed him. Or...if he’s injured.” Will should have thought of that and already informed Cade. He was failing miserably. “There was another helicopter that fired on us earlier—that killed John Snake, the man who gave us shelter last night. That’s why I pulled my gun on you. There could be more men. I can’t be sure.”
“We don’t
have much time.” Cade signaled the Mountain Cove officer. “Chief Winters sent one of his men in lieu of the troopers. He was afraid we wouldn’t get here in time if we had to wait.”
And they almost hadn’t anyway. Will pushed away from the tree and hurried to the place where the man had been shooting from, Cade and the officer on his heels. There was nothing, no one, next to the tree. Will hadn’t seen anyone coming or going. What use was he in protecting Sylvie? None. He let his gaze roam the area. The rescue helicopter must have sent the man running.
“And Snake. His body is in the cabin. We need to get it.”
Cade shook his head. “Don’t worry, we’ll come back for Snake. This woman’s life is on the line. We need to go and now!”
Cade led the way back to where the helicopter still hovered, and the three of them were each lifted into the craft. As the helicopter flew over the forest, Will looked outside, searching the woods for their attackers. He looked anywhere but at Sylvie, where two medics worked on her. Isaiah Callahan, Cade’s brother-in-law, flew the helicopter. Will almost wished he would have stayed to find who had done this. Or that the police officer would have stayed to search for evidence. They could have done Sylvie more good on the ground.
But it was too late now. There was nothing left to do except pray. Will squeezed his eyes and hung his head, trying to shove aside his own guilt in what happened, and his concern and worry over Sylvie.
Just have a little faith.
Hadn’t he told her the same?
Cade nudged him. “Sorry it took us so long, man.”
Will didn’t want to hear excuses. Angry with them, angry with himself, he couldn’t respond. Time stretched on and took far too long to get to the nearest hospital where Sylvie could get the blood she needed to survive and a hyperbaric chamber to resolve the decompression sickness.
“Who is she?” Cade asked.
“Sylvie Masters.” It hit him then. He sucked in a breath, pulled his gaze from the terrain below and stared at Cade.
He doesn’t know that she’s his half sister.
Cade didn’t realize. Oh, Lord, help me... Will didn’t want to betray her trust—the promise she’d extracted from him—but Cade needed to know.
“What is it?”
God, what do I do? Do I tell him? Will Sylvie speak to me again?
Will pressed the heels of his palms in his eyes. “Okay, this isn’t for me to share, but maybe she’ll understand.”
“Tell me.”
“You have to keep this to yourself. Can you do that?”
“Depends, Will, you know that.”
“Yeah, well, try to keep this under wraps for her sake. Sylvie Masters is Regina Hemphill’s daughter. The child she conceived with your father before she left Mountain Cove.”
Will stared at Cade, watching as his pupils dilated, as realization knocked him back into his seat, pinned him against it. The man’s expression morphed, pain etching his features when he glanced over at the woman fighting for her life.
Finally, an exhale burst from his lips along with, “She’s my half sister.”
* * *
Light filtered into her dreams, stirring her awake. Sylvie wanted to open her eyes but her lids were heavy. Nor could she move or lift her arms. Was something pressed on top of her, holding her down? No, it was more that she had no strength. She wondered how she could have survived the freight train that had obviously barreled over her.
“Sylvie.” A familiar male voice wrapped around her. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to wake up soon and everything is going to be fine.”
Where was she? Sylvie frowned. At least she could do that much.
“Sylvie, please, wake up.”
An image came into her mind. The face that belonged to the voice. Who was he?
“Will?” her voice croaked out, sounding as if it had come from down a long, dark tunnel. As if it had come from someone else.
A large hand with a strong grip squeezed hers. She squeezed back.
“Can you hear me?” he asked.
Sylvie’s eyelids fluttered and she found the strength to open them—though she could already tell that keeping them open would be a problem. She looked at Will now, the details of his handsome face coming into sharp focus. Only he looked beaten up, haggard in a way she hadn’t remembered. What had happened to him?
“You’re awake.” His grin thrilled her, but concern, as well as delight, poured from his gaze.
Now she started to remember. His brown eyes taking her in when she climbed into his plane. The wariness in them the first time she’d seen him. There was a tug at her heart that he was there with her now. She was glad to see him, but wasn’t sure why. Who was he to her? What was wrong with her that she couldn’t remember?
She drew in a ragged breath, unsure how much energy she had left to keep her eyes open much less speak. “Where am I?”
His grin quickly faded, but he squeezed her hand again. “You’re in the hospital. They’re taking good care of you.”
“What happened?” She had to know. Had to remember before she lost her strength.
“You lost a lot of blood.” He inched closer. “Sylvie, I’m so sorry.”
“How long... How long have I been here?”
“Two days. You’re going to be fine. They say it will take you some time to regain your strength. You had a mild case of DCS, and with the gunshot wound it was complicated.”
“Oh, right.” She’d needed the hyperbaric chamber, but...gunshot wound?
And why was Will here instead of her stepfather? Sylvie tensed, hoping they hadn’t known to contact him, or hadn’t been able to reach him since he was out of the country.
Sylvie felt herself drifting in and out, and Will’s voice, his face, did the same.
“You should rest.”
Will said nothing more, and Sylvie’s sluggish mind took time to process the words. Soak up his presence. Something about him sitting next to her gave her a sense of security, though she struggled to understand why she needed it. Then the horror came rushing back and she wished it hadn’t. Wished she could feel safe with Will without the harsh memories of the attacks against her.
A nurse entered the room and insisted Sylvie needed to rest, confirming Will’s suggestion. She didn’t want to release Will’s hand, let go of the strength there, but he pulled away from her. Sylvie wanted to look in his eyes, let the warmth there wash away the disquiet in her heart, but her lids betrayed her. Then darkness replaced light.
When Sylvie awoke again, she found two men in her room. Fear jumped down her throat, then Will stepped forward. She hoped he would reach for her hand again, but he didn’t.
His grin, revealing a couple of dimples, could make her feel better, but his eyes weren’t convincing.
What was wrong?
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
I’d be better if you’d sit close to me and hold my hand. But she couldn’t say that. She hated how vulnerable and needy she’d become.
A nurse came in and repositioned her pillow and bed so she could sit up. She brought her a tray of hospital food. Sylvie had no appetite. She felt uncomfortable with the stranger and waited for Will’s explanation. When the nurse left them alone, he stepped closer. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in days. How long had she been here? She got the sense that he hadn’t left her side, but she was certain she was just fooling herself. She couldn’t be that important to him.
“The police are going to question you soon,” he said.
She turned her hand over, hoping he’d take it. It hadn’t required a conscious thought, simply reflexive need. And Will, apparently attuned to her subtle needs, took her hand. She wasn’t sure what she felt about her desires or his response to them.
“I don’t think I’m coherent enough to answer questions.”
“Do
you remember that you were shot?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure. I remember clinging to the tree as gunfire erupted. Everything is blurry after that.”
“I tried to protect you but he shot you.”
“Who, Will? Who shot me?”
“I don’t know. I fired back, but he got away. We think the rescue helicopter sent him running.”
“The police are hoping you can give some answers about who might be trying to kill you.” The man standing in the shadowed corner of the room finally spoke.
Was he with the police? Sylvie let her gaze travel to him.
Will chose that moment to sit on the edge of the bed. It seemed like such an intimate gesture for a man she hardly knew, but they’d been through something together. She had a bond with him and struggled to remember what it was. He’d stayed with her through this; she believed that. Why couldn’t she remember more?
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t keep it from him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“When our helicopter came and the rescuers hoisted us up, I had to share your secret with him because...well, I thought you were...” Will hung his head. “I thought you were dying.”
Dying...
She had almost died?
“What secret, Will? You’re scaring me.”
“Please forgive me for telling him, but I believed the circumstances warranted full disclosure.”
The man stepped closer. With the deep set of his woodsy-green eyes, thick head of dark-roasted-coffee hair and his good, strong features, the face was somehow familiar, and yet she was sure she had never met this man.
“Sylvie.” His grin was big and welcoming to an extent that seemed inappropriate coming from a stranger. “I’m glad to finally meet you. My name is Cade Warren.”
Ah, now she understood the grin. And the sense of familiarity. Her heart beat wildly. She wasn’t ready for this. What did she say to him? This wasn’t how she’d wanted to meet him, if she’d ever been ready to make that leap. And Will, it seemed, couldn’t be trusted with secrets. She thought to glare at him, but she couldn’t take her eyes from her half sibling in the flesh. A weight pressed against her chest. She was bungling this first meeting, and badly, with her reaction. Or rather, trying to hide her reaction to him.
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