The Last Bride (DiCarlo Brides #6)

by Heather Tullis

  “Natalie went hiking when she was younger? How did you manage that?” Jonquil asked.

  “My dad insisted. He wanted us to get out of the house for a few days and hooked up us with a program they used to do here, teaching kids about nature and safe berries and stuff. She hated every minute of it, but she survived. Better than some of the girls.”

  “What about you, were you head of the class?”

  “No, I was too much of a goofball. The instructor didn’t like me much at all.” They crested a rise and could see down into a valley where a tiny patch of fog hung.

  “Beautiful.” Jonquil pulled out her phone and took a few shots. There was no cell signal out here, but she hadn’t expected there to be.

  “You have a thing with cameras, don’t you?” he asked when she turned the shutter toward him.

  “Absolutely. I got the best camera phone I could. I’m never going to be as sophisticated as Jeremy, but you gotta have pictures.” She leaned against his side and lifted the camera to take a picture of them. “Smile.”

  The shutter clicked and he tipped her head toward himself, kissing her.

  “What was that for?” she asked when she pulled back, a long moment later.

  “Because I could, and you were cute and close and smelled good. You always smell good. How is that possible—even after we rock climbed all day.”

  “I did not smell good after rock climbing,” she denied.

  “You did to me.” He turned back to the trail again. “We’re almost to the waterfall. Wait until you see it.”

  It wasn’t nearly as wide as the fall where Jeremy had taken Delphi the previous month, but it was tall, creating a long line, putting off a cloud of water particles which sparkled in the air and shimmered around them.

  Jonquil set down her pack and twirled in the cloud. “This is so great. Just what I needed on a hot hike.”

  “It’s not really hot out yet,” Gage said as he stood beside her, watching her slowly turn. He had both hands in his pockets, a goofy grin on his face, and didn’t seem to take his eyes off of her. “You’re too cute for words.”

  “I can live with that.” She stopped and stooped over her backpack. “It’s a little early for lunch but my breakfast is already gone. Want a granola bar?” She offered him the chewy kind with chocolate chunks in it—her favorite.

  He leaned down to take it and a loud popping noise filled the air. Bark flew off of a nearby tree trunk and Gage whirled, looking around them.

  Jonquil pulled on his shirt, pulling them both onto the ground. A rock poked into her back and she winced a little as she looked around, searching for the source of the noise. “It’s not hunting season for anything, is it?”

  “No. Not now. And you don’t hunt with a pistol anyway. That wasn’t buckshot, so there’s no way it was a shotgun. Not a standard one.”

  He shifted onto all fours, searching around them. He yelled out. “Hey, we’re out here. What are you shooting at?”

  Another shot hit the rock near them, spraying them with bits of stone.

  “I swear I heard that whistle as it went by,” Jonquil said, over the fear that made her gut clench and her heart pound hard enough that her chest hurt.

  “Could be.” He pulled her behind a boulder and peeked up over the top.

  There was another popping and a whistle and he ducked down again.

  “Why are they shooting at us?” Jonquil asked.

  “No idea. We’ve got to find a way out of here.”

  Jonquil had already begun taking in the surroundings. She cataloged the cover she and Gage could hide behind, trying to figure out for sure which direction the shooting was coming from.

  There was a cracking noise like a twig breaking and she turned to face Gage. “Did you hear that?” she asked in a tiny whisper.

  “Yeah. Let’s head over there.” He pointed to the line of trees. “We’ll be exposed for a moment, but if this wasn’t an accident—and it sure doesn’t look like one—I don’t want to wait around for them to show up.”

  Jonquil nodded, adrenaline pumping through her system. She snagged her backpack and held it to herself.

  “You go first and I’ll cover you.” He pulled out his gun from the holster at his back.

  “Then what are you going to do?” Jonquil asked, not wanting to leave him here alone.

  “Just get into the trees there and it’ll be fine. I’ve got another clip, but that’s still not all that many bullets. Be careful.” He lifted the edge of his backpack above the rock, and another bullet whizzed their way. Definitely not an accident. “Okay, as soon as I start shooting, you go.”

  She kissed him quickly and then poised on the edge of the protective barrier.

  “Go,” he said and pulled on the trigger.

  Jonquil’s heart jumped into her throat as she ran as fast as she could into the trees. There were one or two returning bullets, mixed with the few Gage sent into the other tree line where the shooter hid, but not many.

  Jonquil wondered if that was because they were after Gage. Not her. She wondered if this was tied to what happened to Natalie. But the guys had gotten paid, right? Why would they come after Gage now?

  She ducked into the brush, going deep enough that she could get out of sight of the shooter, then turned back in time to see Gage take another shot over the boulder, then run toward the protection, flat out, fueled by the same adrenaline that was nearly making her sick.

  He all but dove in beside her and she sighed in relief. “Are you okay? Did they hit you?”

  “No, I’m fine. Let’s go.” He pushed himself up and Jonquil joined him as they hurried through the trees. They followed an easy path for a moment, then Gage veered off to the right, taking them through brush that scraped their arms and caught on their jeans. Jonquil was glad she hadn’t worn shorts.

  They moved as quietly as possible despite their haste and after a few twists and turns in the woods, Jonquil grabbed his arm. “Hold on.” He took a couple of steps and then pulled her close beside him, behind a large evergreen.

  “Let’s listen,” she said in a whisper, breathing heavily and hoping they didn’t hear anything—and that silence would mean they hadn’t been followed. She didn’t really believe it though.

  There were sounds of trees and birds and the scampering of squirrels above their head, but no footsteps or tale-tell crackling of breaking branches.

  “Who is after us?” he asked in her ear. “Any ideas?”

  “They really didn’t shoot at me when I was exposed,” Jonquil said. “I think it’s you they were after. What’s going on?”

  He shook his head. “No idea. I didn’t think I’d pissed anyone off lately.”

  “Someone has it in for you—maybe the person sabotaging your ski lifts?”

  Gage’s eyes narrowed. “You’re cynical.”

  She adjusted the straps of her backpack. “I tend to be when someone’s shooting at me.”

  “Okay, so what’s the best way back to the truck?” he asked, more to himself than anything.

  “On the path, but that’s not a great option now.”

  “Agreed.” Gage looked up at the sky.

  Jonquil glanced up as well, noticing that the clouds had gotten darker. When had that happened? “Looks like rain.”

  “Yeah.” As if in punctuation, there was a rumble of thunder.

  “I wonder if there’s any way to get out of this rain before it starts?”

  The ground that they could actually see was fairly level. Jonquil didn’t hold out a lot of hope. “You think there’s a cave around here?”

  “No idea. We spent a lot more time on the trail to Manuel’s mine than on this trail. I haven’t explored the area very much.” He looked around them. “I think the trail is back that direction. If we head over there,” he pointed out what might have been a parallel route, “maybe we can at least keep from getting too off track.”

  “Right.” They’d come probably two miles already and Jonquil wasn’t at all con
fident about not getting lost in the forest. She took one more scan of their surroundings, then turned back, catching a flash of red fabric when she looked at him. She looked again and poked at the spot in his pack. “I think you got hit by a bullet. Or your pack did.”

  Gage looked back over his shoulder at her, then to where she was pointing and muttered expletives under his breath, scowling. “I love this backpack.”

  “Just be glad they didn’t hit you instead.”

  They walked quietly in the direction he’d pointed and she listened to the increasing rumblings of the clouds above. The thunder was getting louder and closer together. All she could see were trees and more clouds—not exactly great cover if they got caught in a downpour. Was there somewhere to hide behind or under them that wouldn’t make them targets for lightning and still provide some protection from the rain?

  There was a slight rise up ahead and she hoped for the best even as the wind picked up and bits of water hit her skin, just spitting at them for now.

  “Come on, maybe there’s a protective outcropping or something,” Gage encouraged her.

  Jonquil nodded and kept following. She wished she’d pulled out her jacket when they stopped before. She was getting cold and knew she would be miserable soon if they didn’t find something before they were completely soaked.

  The sky opened up and Gage grabbed Jonquil’s hand, hauling her along with him toward the rocky rise. Rain poured over them, soaking them in less than a minute. She stumbled on the wet grass and caught herself with her hands before she hit the ground, but she felt her ankle give out and cried in pain.

  “Hey, you okay?” Gage asked, his voice muffled by the wind and thunder.

  Jonquil nodded and reached out to him. He helped her stand and put an arm around her to help her.

  She put weight on her ankle and nearly cried again. “I twisted it. It might be broken.” She bit down and held in the tears that fought to rise in her eyes. Not that he would be able to tell against the rain falling around them, but she was not a wimp. Not a wimp.

  He pulled her arm over his shoulder and grabbed her waist again. “Come on, let me help you.”

  She limped against the wind for the hundred yards or so to the hill, every-other step shooting pain up her left leg. She needed to wrap it, but she couldn’t do that until they found shelter.

  The rocky hill curved and an outcropping came into view. A big tree grew beside it and the rock was dry. She pointed it out and Gage nodded, changing their trajectory slightly.

  Rain continued to pound, but when they reached the rock, the wind was blocked and the tree caught most of the rain, redirecting it so it wasn’t too wet beneath. Drips continued to fall though and Gage had to pull back a layer of pine needles to provide a dry spot for Jonquil to rest.

  Her ankle hurt so much. Much worse than the last time she twisted it—unless her memory had just gone fuzzy on that point.

  She shivered and pulled off her backpack, removing her jacket and setting it on a mostly dry spot beside her. She looked down at her shirt. It was soaked through, white and clinging like a second skin, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

  “You’d be better taking that off if the jacket is dry,” Gage said. “You need a hand?”

  “No, I think I’ve got it, thanks.” She watched him nod and then go to the edge of the dry zone, peering into the mid-day gloom, allowing her a little privacy. She quickly stripped while his back was turned and slid the jacket on instead, zipping it to the top. She hoped the shooter wasn’t watching from the bushes somewhere. There were a couple of damp spots on the jacket, but nothing too bad. She turned again to Gage, watching him. He was just as wet as she was, but seemed unconcerned, though he visibly shivered once.

  “Do you think whoever shot at us is still following us?” she asked. She hadn’t seen any hint that they were being pursued, but she could be wrong.

  “Yeah, I do. Or at least they’re trying. Hopefully they’re holed up right now too, though.” Gage turned back to her and nodded. “Warmer yet?”

  “A little. Did you bring anything else?”

  “Just a rain poncho,” he said with a wry smile. “I totally forgot about it when the storm hit.” He pulled it out and stretched it over the lower-lying branches where she sat, giving them a little extra protection.

  He sat on the ground across from her. “Let’s look at this ankle.” He unlaced the shoe and removed her cold, wet sock. His fingers gently probed her foot, making her wince a little.

  “Any serious pain when I do this?” he asked, touching one especially sensitive spot.

  She grimaced. “It’s definitely tender. I don’t think it’s broken, though.”

  “I agree. Wish we had some ace bandage. Do you?” He peered over at the backpack. “You seem to have everything else in there.”

  “No, but I have something just as good.” She dug back into her pack and came out with the roll of duct tape. Her medical miracle tool.

  He shot her a disbelieving look. “Really?”

  “Hey, I took a wilderness medicine class—Dad insisted on it. Duct tape is very useful.” She passed him the roll. “Rip off a piece about nine or ten inches long.” She directed him as he began making a support for her ankle, every other piece going below the heel, or along the back of her foot. They interwove, forming a tight support.

  “How long do you think the rain will last?” she asked when he was done and had put the shoe and sock back on her foot.

  “I thought it would be over by now.” There was another lightning flash close enough to see, followed immediately by a crash of thunder. “Apparently not right away.”

  “I guess not. You finally want that granola bar? I dropped the one I had before, but there are several more in here.” She held one out to him, feeling hungry and empty inside. She shivered when she thought someone might be out there hunting them while they sat under a tree. It was a big forest, right? Maybe the shooter went a different direction.

  “Thanks.” Gage took the granola bar and shifted to sit beside her as the thunder rolled again. This could take a while.

  Gage ate the granola bar as he watched the rain pour down around them. Someone had it out for him. Jonquil had been right about the shooter not trying too hard to hit her when she’d come out of the hiding place. He didn’t think they’d sent one shot in her direction. But why? Why was someone coming after him? And how could he possibly get Jonquil back home safely when she had a sprained ankle? The way she’d reacted when he checked it, he didn’t think it was broken, but the sprain had been quite bad and he’d barely been able to tighten down the shoelaces on her boots. He wasn’t sure how much she could walk on it, or if even attempting the distance would be a very bad idea.

  She put her hand on his, threading their fingers together, as if she knew how upset and worried he was. All he could think was that he’d gotten her hurt. And he could get her killed.

  But why?

  Finally the drops slowed and the rain turned to a light mist. He stood, leaving Jonquil with the poncho. He was still wet from before. At least it might keep her from getting too cold—which would be just what she needed after hurting herself.

  The wind had calmed, though there was still a pretty regular breeze. Gage looked at the sky, checked his watch, and tried to figure out which direction they had been moving, and which direction they would need to go to get to a road.

  Calculating, he looked at the hill they were nestled against. They would have to go over it. He didn’t dare take her back to the trail, so how would she make it around the bramble-covered hill? And if they did make it back to the road, would the shooter be waiting for them by the truck?

  “It’s time to go again, don’t you think?” Jonquil asked, interrupting his thoughts. “The shooter will be on the move again.”

  “Yeah.” Gage knelt beside her and touched her ankle, which was bigger than ever. “I don’t know if you should be hobbling on this.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she
said with a determined expression. “I’ve been through worse.”

  “When is that? The summer camp your dad sent you to with Delphi?” he teased as she repacked her bag. “Delphi survived the place, surely it wasn’t that hard.”

  She stuck out her tongue at him. “I broke my leg once on a hike. A full break. It didn’t go through the skin, but we had to splint and everything and then I had to walk out with a homemade crutch. Trust me, this won’t be half as bad.”

  Gage’s opinion of her rose even more. “You are entirely too accident-prone for someone who loves the outdoors so much,” he teased, wanting to keep her thoughts away from whoever had been following them. “How many times have you broken your leg? Just the two times or were there more?”

  She didn’t say anything for a long moment, frowning a little. “Last fall doesn’t count. That wasn’t from hiking. And it’s only been twice. Before this crazy year.” She looked away, though she was a tad flushed.

  “And your other broken bones?” he asked as he stood again.

  “A few. The number is irrelevant.” She offered him both hands, but still didn’t meet his gaze.

  Gage took her hands and helped her stand, keeping hold of her until she steadied, feeling sick about her injuries and problems. He brushed back some damp tendrils of hair from her face, feeling things he never thought he would. Tenderness poured through him. “So you say. You have to know, though, that I care about these things. I need to know just how fragile my woman is.”

  Fire lit her eyes and she punched him in the arm, though not hard at all. “I’m not fragile. I told you I could blacken your eyes. I’ve done it before a few times, with guys who were jerks.”

  “I bet you have.” Her face was so determined, her outrage so clear, he couldn’t help but lean in and kiss her, lingering for several seconds before pulling away to grab their packs, and stuff his wet poncho back into his. “You’re a tough cookie.”

  “You’re rude, obnoxious and insulting.” Her lips pursed in irritation.

  “How was that any of those things?” he asked, baffled.