by Terri Reed
“Because then I’d feel guilty for kissing you.”
“But you haven’t kissed me.”
“You’re right, we were interrupted.”
He touched her cheek, his fingers trailing across her skin. She sucked in a quick breath. Her heart hammered. She was torn between wanting him to kiss her and wanting, needing, to keep a distance. He lowered his head, once again pausing, letting her make the final decision.
So many conflicting thoughts swirled in her head. She was setting herself up for hurt. She was curious, wanting to know what it would feel like to kiss this man. She was supposed to be protecting him, not forming some romantic attachment. But would one kiss qualify as an attachment? One kiss couldn’t hurt anything, could it?
Her mind flashed to Kyle. To the seduction he’d laid on her, beguiling her into believing that taking one step wouldn’t lead to another and another, until he’d led her down a path that had left her filled with guilt and shame. And anger when he’d shown his true colors.
She put her fingers against Nathanial’s lips. The warmth of his mouth flowed through her, making her hesitate. But she forged ahead, knowing she was making the right choice. “I can’t. This isn’t going to happen.”
Disappointment shone in the dark depths of his eyes, but he nodded, retreating from her both physically and emotionally. It was like an invisible barrier had gone up between them. She didn’t like it but had no idea what to do about it, either.
He settled his head against the wall. “We should get some rest. Tomorrow you won’t have to worry about me anymore. I’ll become someone else’s problem.”
You’re not a problem, she wanted to tell him. But she held her tongue. And he was wrong. She’d continue to worry about him as long as someone was out to kill him.
EIGHT
The next morning, after dropping Paulson off at his house, Nathanial and Audrey headed to the sheriff’s station and parked at the curb outside. Nathanial gripped the interior door handle of Audrey’s bright blue muscle car. A muscle car. Go figure. The woman was full of surprises.
Last night when they’d climbed into the Mustang, he’d thought the sweet ride too much car for the beautiful deputy, but the way she’d outmaneuvered their pursuers had made it clear that the woman knew how to drive. And was skilled. He’d been impressed and attracted. He had a strong feeling he’d never met anyone like Audrey. But then again, how would he know? His brain wasn’t cooperating.
Learning his name was Nathanial Longhorn had been surreal. The name fit like a too-small glove, making his mind and heart anxious. He’d tried to explain the sensation to Audrey, but how did he explain something he didn’t understand?
Like his attraction to the pretty blonde. Well, okay, that he could understand. What man in his right mind—or not right, as the case might be with him—wouldn’t be attracted to a tall, curvy, beautiful woman?
But it was more than her looks. She was special on the inside, too. Resourceful. Calm in the face of danger. Protective but not overbearing. And that chip she carried on her shoulder was so obvious, yet she tried not to let it rule her.
He’d noticed that she hadn’t liked it when Paulson had taken the first watch last night. She’d wanted to prove she was up to the task. There was no question in Nathanial’s mind that she was capable, and he was thankful she’d chosen to swallow her need to take action. He’d been able to spend more time with her, and she’d opened up to him, trusting him with the story of her past romantic relationship. Though he had a feeling there was more to the story, he hadn’t pushed. Instead...
His hand flexed on the door handle.
He’d made a fool of himself. He’d allowed his attraction and a deep-seated yearning for connection to overtake his common sense. He’d made a pass at her and been rebuffed.
As he should have been. He had no business starting something with the lovely Audrey when he had no idea why someone was trying to kill him.
Once they stepped inside the sheriff’s station, she would no longer be in danger because of him.
He would accept whatever awaited him inside the brick building, despite the constriction in his lungs and the pounding in his head. By the grace of God above he would leave Audrey and Calico Bay behind, taking with him the danger that lurked in the shadows.
From the driver’s seat, Audrey asked, “Are you nervous?”
Nathanial slanted her a glance. No doubt she was wondering why he was hesitating. Maybe he was a coward at heart. Something inside rebelled at the thought, but he couldn’t shake the dread crimping his shoulder muscles and making his breathing labored. Forcing air into his lungs, he gave her a rueful twist of his lips and admitted, “Yeah, I am.”
She reached across the center console and touched his arm, her hand warm against his skin exposed by the rolled-up sleeve of the plaid flannel shirt he wore. “It’s understandable. But I’m here, and I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.”
The tightness around his mind and heart eased a fraction. He covered her hand with his. He was amazed by her dedication to him. She had no reason to believe in him. For all they knew, he would be taken into custody by the Canadian government and hauled away for crimes he couldn’t remember.
His throat closed. He blinked back the emotions choking him and managed to say, “I appreciate your support. Whatever happens, I hope you know that you have been a bright spot in an otherwise bleak existence.”
The corners of her mouth lifted slightly. “Melodrama much?”
He chuckled. “I guess so.”
She gave his arm a squeeze before withdrawing her hand and opening her door. “Come on. Better to get this over with quickly rather than drawing it out.”
He liked her pragmatic outlook. He rolled his shoulders, took a deep breath and popped the door open. He stepped out into the brisk morning air. He glanced up and down the street, studying the vehicles, looking for the SUV and the men inside.
Reflexively his gaze lifted. He wasn’t sure what instinct made him search the rooftops of the buildings stretching along the main road of town.
Something glinted in the morning sunlight.
A jolt of adrenaline kick-started his pulse. He grabbed Audrey and yanked her to the sidewalk. A fraction of a second later, a crack split the air. He dived over her, covering her with his body. A bullet slammed into the cement inches from his head. Bits of concrete stung his flesh. The noise stunned his ears.
“Get off me!” Audrey yelled.
He rolled toward the cover of the car, taking her with him as a barrage of gunfire followed in their wake. They landed with a thud against the back passenger door. He scooted them over to use the tire for extra cover.
Audrey scrambled to a squat and drew her sidearm. “Where’s the shooter?”
“Two blocks up. Southeast corner.” His hand flexed with the need to return fire.
The sheriff and four other men rushed out of the station, each with a gun in hand. Nathanial glimpsed gold badges on belts beneath various types of jackets. He didn’t have time to study the men as Audrey waved them back.
“Shooter,” she called out. “Southeast corner of the bank.”
Sheriff Crump nodded and disappeared inside. The four strangers spread out in a tactical pattern with weapons drawn. They took cover behind bushes and poles. Clearly these were the men sent to retrieve him. One man, tall and well-dressed in a long wool coat over slacks and a dress shirt and tie, motioned for him and Audrey to come to the safety of the station. He had dark hair swept back from a hard-edged face.
“We’ll cover you,” he called out.
Nathanial shared a quick glance with Audrey.
“You go,” he told her. “You’re not the target.”
Her gaze narrowed, and her jaw firmed. “I’m not leaving you. We go together.”
The
stubborn resolve in her blue eyes let him know arguing with her was futile. He gave one sharp nod. She scrambled to his other side—the side that put her in the direct line of the shooter. Tension vibrated through his body. A siren rent the air. Obviously the sheriff had called for reinforcements.
She put her hand on his shoulder. “Move with me.”
Hating the vulnerable feeling stealing over him, he had no choice but to let her do her job. “Let’s go.”
They hurried across the expanse of sidewalk. The men closed ranks behind them, covering their flank. Nathanial braced himself for another round of gunfire that never came. They made it inside the building, and the sheriff hustled them out of the lobby and into the bull pen where the deputies had their desks.
“Get down,” the sheriff instructed.
Nathanial crouched beside Audrey behind a thick metal desk.
The men spread out, covering windows, while the one who’d taken the lead stayed near the doorway. The sheriff’s radio crackled.
“Sheriff.” Deputy Harrison’s voice echoed in the station. “Shooter escaped. Found spent shell casings, but nothing else.”
“Copy,” the sheriff said. “Stay put. Keep alert. I’ll send Lindsey and her team over.”
“Lindsey? Team?” Nathanial asked Audrey.
She rose and holstered her weapon. “The county’s forensic specialists.”
He stood and faced the congregated men. The leader leveled Nathanial with an intense, searching stare. Not that the other three men’s gazes weren’t equal in intensity, but for some reason this man’s eyes provoked an odd sensation of alertness within Nathanial.
Disconcerted by the response, Nathanial studied the other men. They ranged in age from roughly twenties to somewhere in their thirties. He mentally shrugged. It was hard to tell with intense men like these. They held themselves with an air of authority that no one could miss. They were dressed in civilian clothes, so Nathanial hadn’t a clue which branch of the Canadian government they worked for.
Audrey stepped to his side, silently offering her support, drawing the men’s attention. He didn’t like the way they assessed her with both curiosity and wariness. He had the strangest urge to slip an arm around her in a show of possession. He wanted to stake his claim on Audrey and make it clear she was off-limits.
He clenched his jaw. That was so out of left field and not going to happen. She’d been very direct that she wasn’t interested. And he shouldn’t be, either.
He cleared his throat, drawing the men’s focus back to him. “You may have heard my memories before waking on the beach here in Calico Bay are gone.”
The man nearest him nodded. “We’ve heard. The doctor says retrograde amnesia. Your memory could return at any time.”
Surprise flickered through Nathanial. They’d discussed his condition with Dr. Martin. “I’ve been told my name is Nathanial Longhorn. But that doesn’t tell me who I am or why someone wants me dead.”
The bigger of the four men stepped forward. “We can fill in some of the first part but not the latter.” There was sympathy and wariness in his hazel eyes.
Frustration mingled with relief. “Then tell me what you can. Starting with who you are.”
The big man’s mouth twitched. He stuck out his hand. “Inspector Drew Kelley with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.”
Nathanial grasped his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Luke Wellborn,” the youngest of the group said as he moved forward with his hand out. He was slighter in frame than the others, with intelligent gray eyes and a firm grip. “US Border Patrol.”
The other man hung back. There was no mistaking the anger in the man’s blue gaze as he tipped his chin. “Chase Smith, ATF.”
The acronym for the United States Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives slammed into Nathanial. American and Canadian law enforcement. What did that mean?
“You really don’t remember anything?” Chase asked.
Studying the other man, Nathanial tried to find some spark of recognition and failed. He shook his head. “No. Nothing.”
By the derisive curl of Chase’s lip, Nathanial had no problem discerning the guy didn’t believe him. What were RCMP, USBP and ATF doing here? Nathanial turned his focus on the last man in the group. The one he’d pegged as the leader. There was something in the man’s expression that tugged at Nathanial, making him want to remember, but the more he probed his mind, the more his head throbbed.
“Blake Fallon, ICE.”
“Immigration and Customs Enforcement,” Nathanial said beneath his breath.
Blake moved closer, his dark eyes going to the place on Nathanial’s head that still bore the mark of the blow he’d sustained prior to washing ashore on the beach. “What is the last thing you do remember?”
“I told you,” Nathanial said. “Nothing of my life before waking up in the hospital. I didn’t know my name until you gave it to the sheriff.” He looked at Drew. “You said you could fill me in on who I am. How do I know my name really is Nathanial?”
Blake withdrew a black wallet from the inside pocket of his long wool coat. “Here. This belongs to you.”
Mouth turning to cotton, Nathanial accepted the offered item. The soft leather felt strange in his hand. He flipped it open. On one side was a gold badge with the Canada Border Services Agency emblem, and the other held a driver’s license issued in Saskatchewan, Canada, with his photo, name and stats. So many questions ran through his head. He was Canadian? Why did an ICE agent have his wallet? What waited for him at the address on the driver’s license? The pounding in his head intensified, making him wince. He passed the wallet over to Audrey.
“I knew it,” she said beneath her breath. “I knew you were one of the good guys.”
He wanted to believe she was right. Was she? “I’m a border officer?”
“For several years,” Drew said. “A good one, too.”
Pressure built behind his eyes. “Why does it take four federal agencies from two countries to come for me?”
“You’re one of us,” Blake said. “We are all part of a cross-border task force. We’ve been working together for four years.”
“Task force.” The words reverberated through his brain, setting off a pinging of pain that made him clutch his head for fear his skull would crack open. The room dimmed. He could feel his legs weaken. Blindly he reached for Audrey. He grasped the sleeve of her jacket.
Her strong hand gripped his shoulders. “Nathanial.” His name sounded foreign on her lips. “What is it? What can I do to help?”
Audrey’s soothing voice brought him back from the edge. He fought the pain, found strength in her touch, her presence. He focused his gaze on her concerned face, letting the sight of her ground him, calm him. It didn’t make sense that this woman, whom he barely knew, should be the one to anchor him, rather than these men he apparently worked closely with.
“Here, sit.” Blake dragged a chair to him. “The doctor said you’d been having headaches.”
Bracing his feet apart, Nathanial remained standing. He gave Audrey a nod to let her know it was okay for her to let go of him. She removed her hands from his shoulders but stayed glued to his side. To Blake, Nathanial said, “What happened? How did I end up on a beach in Maine?”
Blake ran his fingers through his brown hair. “We don’t know.”
“We were in the middle of a mission when you went rogue,” Chase said, his voice hard.
“We don’t know that he went rogue,” Drew interjected with a tone of warning.
Chase’s mouth set in a firm line, and he spun away to stare out the station window.
A shudder of dread rippled through Nathanial. “What was the mission?”
“To take down a known gunrunner operating out of Saint John Harbour, New Brunswick,” B
lake supplied. “We had good intel that a shipment had been smuggled over from the States.”
“You were on overwatch,” Drew told him.
Nathanial winced as a fresh sliver of pain pierced through his brain. “I don’t know what that is.”
Chase made a disgruntled sound. Nathanial wondered if they’d been enemies before, or was his animosity due to his belief that Nathanial had gone rogue? The thought that he’d abandoned his post willingly left him feeling hollow inside.
“You’re an expert marksman,” Blake said.
“And you’re lethal with a knife,” Luke, the USBP agent, chimed in.
Nathanial absorbed their pronouncements, but the words held no relevance for him. Yet...hadn’t he longed to feel the weight of a weapon in his hand? Now at least he knew why. But he couldn’t visualize himself with a gun or a blade.
“What happened on that day?” Audrey asked. “I take it from your comments Nathanial disappeared.”
“Yes.” Blake’s dark gaze focused on Audrey for a moment. Nathanial recognized the gleam of speculation there before Blake turned his gaze on him. Nathanial wasn’t prepared for the bleak sadness flooding the man’s expression. “You were on the roof with an assault rifle. Your job was to scout the area and to keep those on the ground informed of any potential threats.”
Nathanial’s stomach dropped. He had a horrible feeling that he’d failed. Purposely? “I left my post?”
A tense moment of silence met his question. Finally Blake gave a short nod. “Yes. One moment you were on the com device in my ear telling me to hold on. Then static.”
“We sent men to the roof to see what happened,” Drew said. “They found your rifle, com devices and your Becker Necker lying abandoned.”
Nathanial wasn’t sure what a Becker Necker was, so he glanced at Audrey to see if she did.
“A combat knife made by the US company Ka-Bar,” she answered his unspoken question. Then she turned her sharp-eyed gaze on Blake. “What’s a Canada Border Services officer doing carrying a US-made military knife?”
“It was a gift,” Blake replied. A muscle jumped in his jaw, as if he were struggling to contain some emotion.
