Never Let Go

by Elizabeth Goddard

  “It hit me that he wasn’t wearing his uniform. He came from the wrong direction. I hadn’t”—he grimaced—“I told him the ranch.”

  Apprehension overwhelmed her. “What can I do to make you comfortable?”

  His face morphed into an intense frown. Oh no. He had wanted Austin to go after Charlie, so he hadn’t let on how much pain he was in. Moisture bloomed on her palms. Heath could bleed to death right here in front of her, and there was nothing she knew to do to help him. Nothing she could do.

  Grimacing, he handed over his radio and tossed her his cell. “Evelyn might not hear the radio, but try that. If not, then see if you can get a signal. Call 9-1-1. Emergency services. Call Deputy Taggart. Someone. Or the Hoback County Sheriff’s Department. The county line runs through these parts.”

  Her vision blurred, but she forced back the tears. Any help that might come would take far too long. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else I can do?”

  Heath didn’t respond. Had he even heard her?

  Willow’s slippery fingers interfered with her use of the radio and search for a cell signal. Regardless, she couldn’t find one. No one answered the radio. She pushed to stand. Teetering, she leaned on a wide evergreen. She walked around to continue her search for the signal, feeling completely useless.

  Nothing. She refused to fall into this trap of helplessness. “Maybe I can get you to the horses, or better, bring one here to you, Heath. I don’t want to leave you, but I don’t think you can wait as long as you led Austin to believe.” Her eyes followed the path they’d taken, which disappeared between the thick trees.

  “It hurts like heck, I won’t lie. But most of the pain is coming from the pressure I’m putting on it to keep it from bleeding. That’s the danger. Loss of blood.” His words came out between gasps and grunts.

  Heath hadn’t come across as the sort of man who couldn’t handle pain—and it hadn’t been that long since he’d served as a Green Beret. Nausea boiled like lava in her gut. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Back on the horses, there’s gunshot wound powder.”

  Austin had asked her to stay with him. “Why didn’t you tell Austin?”

  “You know why. He’d waste time. Charlie . . .” Heath grunted.

  “Just like I am now.” Willow started to take off.

  “Wait.”

  “What is it?” She didn’t need to waste more time.

  “I need to tell you something. You tell Austin in case . . . in case . . .”

  Oh, don’t say those words!

  “Before he took off, Haines told me . . . he told me Dad wasn’t drunk. The accident wasn’t his fault. Tell Austin I’m sorry for being disappointed in him. I hope he can forgive me. Tell him . . . tell him that I’m proud of him.”

  “He’ll be glad to hear it when you tell him yourself.” Willow left him and climbed up the incline she’d carefully maneuvered down earlier. That must be what had caused the rift between them. Heath had to live so they could work it out. He could be the one to tell Austin. If Heath died while she was gone, Austin would never forgive her. However, he would never forgive her if she failed to do the one thing she could do to save Heath.

  Austin would save Charlie.

  Willow would save Heath.

  She had to believe it would work out or she would crumple under the weight of it.

  What a strange twist of events.

  She hurried, climbing over tree trunks and around boulders, through the undergrowth as fast as she could. The cabin came into view to Willow’s right. They’d left the horses tied off to trees a few yards up the trail. Willow made her way to where the horses should be.

  But . . . where were they? Had she gotten turned around? Was this the wrong place? She turned in a circle. No. They had left the horses here. The animals’ droppings proved it.

  Willow leaned over her thighs to catch her breath. Now what do I do? Without the gunshot wound powder, Heath might die. Without the horses, how could she take him to get help?

  A twig snapped. She stiffened. Before she could turn, a hand covered her mouth. Pain ignited as the muzzle of a gun thrust against her rib cage.

  Chapter fifty-eight

  SATURDAY, 8:37 A.M.

  BRIDGER-TETON NATIONAL FOREST

  Austin still couldn’t wrap his mind around Sheriff Haines’s involvement.

  He’d picked up Charlie’s trail as she’d run from the sheriff. Austin crept to the edge of the bluff, his heart sliding up into his throat. The Grayback River Canyon. Here, it wasn’t so steep, but up farther he would get dizzy if he stood too close. He remembered that much from his childhood.

  He crouched to study the ground. The sheriff had been cutting through the woods quickly and left a trail, whether he wanted to or not. He’d caught up with Charlie too. They’d been here all right. He couldn’t be sure, but the footprints suggested someone had gone into the river. What he didn’t know was if the sheriff had shot her first. Or stunned her.

  He rose slowly, watching the swift current and the white water. If she remained conscious, uninjured, could she survive the river?

  Failure wrapped around his chest and squeezed. He scraped a hand down his face. Lifted the rifle and peered through the scope, searching downriver, but the river curved and twisted out of sight. He couldn’t follow the river and catch up to her. Either she made it on her own or she was already dead. He could make it back to Heath and save his brother.

  Twisting on his heel, he stomped back into the woods, following the same path in reverse. Realization hit him. He pressed his back against a tree—the same path the sheriff had taken, according to Heath. Why hadn’t he run into the guy? Had Charlie already gone into the river when they met up with Haines? Whatever the timeline, Haines wasn’t here and Charlie was gone. A measure of fear corded his neck. Heath and Willow were back there. He’d left them.

  He’d left her when he’d said he never would.

  God, why are my choices not choices at all?

  The faintest sound drew his attention. He remained pressed against the tree, then slowly peeked around it. Movement in the forest caught his eye. The forms were distant, but he could make out two people. He peered through his scope.

  The sheriff had someone. Charlie?

  No . . .

  Terror fisted around his heart and squeezed. Sheriff Haines had taken Willow.

  What had happened to Heath?

  Anguish engulfed him. He had to take this guy down once and for all. Watching them through the scope, he hoped he had the opportunity. As if sensing he was being surveilled, the sheriff turned his head in Austin’s direction, then tugged Willow close. Using her as a human shield?

  His finger trembled against the trigger. Could he do it? Could he pull the trigger? And if he did, would he save Willow’s life or end it?

  The forest thickened and the two disappeared. The window of opportunity had closed. Just as well.

  Austin understood the sheriff’s plan. He would draw Austin to him. He’d already killed Heath, or so he thought, and now he would eliminate everyone who knew Charlie’s true identity. He must have some plan to explain this. He was the sheriff—he could make it look any way he wanted.

  The scent of fear and desperation wafted up to him—his own.

  Please, God, give me a plan.

  Chapter fifty-nine

  SATURDAY, 8:46 A.M.

  BRIDGER-TETON NATIONAL FOREST

  Stones in the river bottom had pressed hard against Charlie’s feet as she’d made her way to safety, the pain nothing compared to the sheer terror she’d endured. She’d fought to keep her head above the river as the swift current had carried her out of the canyon. Eventually, she’d found a shallow eddy and a way out.

  Still, her jump into the river could have killed her just as easily as the sheriff could have.

  Why would Sheriff Haines want her dead? The same reasons he’d killed her mother? The masked man that night—it had to have been him. He claimed he hadn’t killed Momma, b
ut any man who could murder someone could lie about it.

  He hadn’t been willing to answer her questions. Just wanted her death to look like an accident. But she’d been smarter and faster.

  At least she’d survived the river, and then she’d dragged one foot after another, making her way out of the water. She’d dropped to the pebbled riverbank, her fingers digging into the gray silt and rocks. She’d closed her eyes and succumbed to sheer exhaustion. She had no idea how long she’d rested, but she wished she hadn’t stopped. Because he wouldn’t. He would never stop looking for her.

  All she’d wanted was answers. Now she had more questions.

  Somehow Charlie had to make it back to civilization and get help. She wasn’t sure who would believe her. Her word against Sheriff Haines’s?

  But Mack. He would come looking for her when she didn’t show this morning. He was probably already on his way, which would put him in danger. He wouldn’t suspect Sheriff Haines.

  She’d been so wrong about everything. Queasiness roiled inside her. She curled into a ball until it passed. Pushing to her knees, she drew on an inner strength she hadn’t known existed inside her.

  She had to make it back. She had to find and warn Mack.

  Charlie took in her surroundings. She’d run far enough from the sheriff that when she’d jumped in the river, it carried her back down, closer to where she wanted to head.

  She could thank the river for that. No, maybe it was like Mack always tried to tell her—she should thank God. She didn’t much feel like thanking him right now, if he even cared about her. If he did, why was she in this mess at all?

  Tears burned her eyes. Every part of her body ached from lack of sleep, and the tumble into the river, and fighting the current. Her soul ached—if that was even possible. Still, she could give prayer another try.

  God, thank you. Thank you for letting the river save me instead of taking me down and under. Now . . . can you help me make it back? Please, let good win this time.

  Because evil had won when it killed her mother.

  Charlie forced herself to keep going as she hiked along the riverbank until she could head east, away from the river. She had to make her way through the forest until she found the trail that would take her past the cabin and back down the mountain toward the Emerald M Ranch. Mack no longer used the trail for the guest ranch for horseback riding because it got too steep and rocky in places, and a twelve-year-old girl had gotten hurt. For a while, Charlie had felt like she’d had her very own trail. She loved working with the horses and living in the wilderness, and wished it hadn’t been under the direst of circumstances.

  As she shoved through underbrush, over boulders, and between trees to make her way back to the trail, she kept her senses attuned to the nature around her—and to the fact that the sheriff might be hunting her.

  After more hiking, in the distance, she caught a glimpse of a portion of the trail. Farther down, she’d find the cabin. She would steer good and clear of it and keep on the lookout for the sheriff. He wanted her dead. Pressing her back against a tree, she squeezed her eyes shut and sent up a prayer for protection. It helped, actually, believing that she wasn’t alone. That Someone was listening to and watching over her.

  Charlie stepped over a fallen branch but didn’t quite clear it. She tumbled forward, slamming one kneecap into a rock. Pain stabbed through her knee. She pulled it to her chest, waiting for the pain to subside.

  What would happen if she just waited here? Would anyone come for her? Would anyone besides the person who wanted her dead find her?

  Charlie couldn’t wait. She was more concerned about the help she knew she could count on—Mack. Using the branch she’d fallen over, she climbed to her feet and spotted a form resting up against a rock. His head lolled to the side. And blood. So much blood.

  Mack!

  Chapter sixty

  SATURDAY, 9:34 A.M.

  BRIDGER-TETON NATIONAL FOREST

  Sweating and out of breath, Sheriff Haines paced the cave. He watched the opening. Fisted and refisted his free hand, the other gripping an oversized pistol.

  “Why couldn’t you heed the warnings?” he asked. “It didn’t have to come to this. I didn’t want to hurt Charlie. She was doing just fine lost to the world. All you had to do was stop. Didn’t you think about her life? Now look what you’ve done.”

  Her hands bound with plastic ties again, Willow pushed herself into the shadows and against the rocky wall as though a secret passage would open up behind her and she would simply fall through. She received pain as her reward when the wall denied her entrance. She couldn’t watch him anymore and turned her face. Where light illuminated, faded petroglyphs could be seen on the walls. Was this cave so secluded that no one had discovered it yet? He’d gone out of his way to find this hiding place.

  Another guy was in the cave too. A bruise on his head, he was out cold. Sheriff Haines kept fidgeting with that Taser. She hoped he wouldn’t use it on her.

  She hadn’t thought she’d find herself in this position again so soon after her experience last night, when she was freezing in the wilderness, left to face off with all manner of wild creatures. Still, that would have been better than facing off with a wild man.

  One thing she knew. Sheriff Haines hadn’t been the one to carry her last night. He didn’t have a broken arm. Nor did he appear injured, even if she’d been wrong about the arm. Then who else was involved?

  She just didn’t get it. Why didn’t he just kill her and be done with it?

  Finished with his anguished discourse, he edged to the cave opening, stood in the shadows, and waited. All she could see from here was his silhouette. He had to be waiting for Austin to come for her. The sheriff had seen that she meant something to him. And now she wished she hadn’t allowed Austin to protect her or care for her. He probably thought he’d failed again, which would crush him after what he’d been through. But she understood—his brother had been dying. Nor did she blame him for going after Charlie.

  His options had been limited.

  Willow loathed tears. How she hated them, but she couldn’t stop them from streaming down her cheeks. She wanted to growl in anger, to force the tears back. But she didn’t want to draw the sheriff’s attention.

  She knew Austin would be here soon and put himself in danger for her. He would follow the tracks to the hidden cave in search of her. She still wore the necklace, but he would need a signal to find her. Maybe she could do something to save herself. If she could find a rock, maybe she could approach the sheriff from behind and use it. Lift her tied hands. But the sheriff was taller than she was by several inches. He’d gotten the upper hand with Heath, a former Green Beret. What did she think she could do?

  Heath . . .

  God, please help Heath. Send someone to find him. Her heart said the prayer, but she struggled to believe anyone would find Heath in time to save him. He’d sacrificed himself for Charlie. Charlie! What had happened to her? Had the sheriff already disposed of her? She had to believe, to keep holding on to hope, that Charlie was okay. That they would all make it out of this alive.

  Except, JT hadn’t made it out alive.

  If he had lived, what would he tell her now? She struggled to recall his wise words, but they didn’t come to her. Nor did any direction from God surface in her heart.

  If you could just show me a way out. Help Austin.

  That’s exactly what needed to happen. Austin needed to find and save her, like he did last night. But he needed time to do that, so maybe she could help him along a little by hounding the sheriff with questions.

  She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “Why did you take Charlie all those years ago?”

  His intimidating form shifted at the cave entrance, then he stomped back toward her. “I told you to keep quiet.”

  “I deserve answers. And who is that guy? Just someone who got in your way?”

  The sheriff crouched down to eye level, his presence formidable. Maybe she sho
uldn’t have asked. “You have it all wrong. I didn’t take her.”

  “Then what’s this all about? If you aren’t behind Charlie’s abduction when she was a baby, then who is? Did you kill Marilee?”

  “Enough with the questions. You thought you were some kind of investigator. Well, you got it all wrong.” Deep frown lines, coupled with overwhelming regret in his bloodshot eyes, made him appear ten years older. He shook his head and headed back to the cave entrance without giving her any answers.

  Willow stared straight ahead. He was right. She’d failed miserably. JT never would have found himself in this situation if he had lived to come to Wyoming to follow through with finding Charlie.

  The consummate puzzle solver, JT loved to fix things. Her thoughts went back to his response after one of her rage-filled moments six months after her parents had died. “If I could fix this for you, I would.” He was that kind of grandfather.

  “You owe me an explanation,” she said. “My grandfather was killed because of this. He was everything to me.”

  Sheriff Haines slowly turned to look back at her—the hurt and pain in his eyes more than evident. Could it be?

  “I’d do just about anything for friends and family.” The sheriff’s words came back to her.

  Only in this case, Heath hadn’t rated as friend or family. JT would have fixed whatever was broken in Willow’s life, if he could have. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re doing this for someone you love. For a child, or a grandchild.”

  The truth registered in his eyes, but he said nothing.

  “Give it up, Haines,” Austin shouted from outside the cave. “I know what you’re up to. You can’t get away with it.”

  Willow’s heart leapt with joy, but fear for Austin anchored it to the ground. “Austin, I’m inside and okay.”