by D'Ann Lindun
“Snowmobiles?” Coltraine suggested.
Mooney laughed. “No way, man. That trail’s barely wide enough for hikers.”
“Walk, then,” Coltraine said.
Andy spoke up. “We can use my horses to get as far as the cabin at Blue Heaven lakes. Then change to snowshoes.”
“SAR will reimburse you for the horses,” Mick said.
Coltraine lifted a brow. “You have enough equipment for seven riders?”
“I do.”
“I’ll bring my mount,” Gabriella said. “That will free up one more.”
“Good.” Mick let the topographical map roll up with a snap. “We need to get started ASAP. People are likely dying. These women aren’t used to snow or cold. They’ll have no idea what to do. The pilot and crew are from the Mid-Eat, probably with no idea of how to cope with inclement weather.”
“What equipment is on board the plane?” Howler asked. “Do they have food? Any blankets?”
“The plane is fully equipped with supplies for a trans-continental flight, so there will be bedding. And enough food for at least a day or two.”
“Any medical supplies?”
Coltraine shook his head. “No more than on the average flight. How long until we leave?”
“Listen up,” Mick ordered. “Andy is in charge of this rescue. Any questions?”
Gabrielle gasped, but with a hard look from Mick, shut up. His word was law. Argue, and find yourself dismissed.
Frank and Howler nodded.
Mooney studied the floor.
Andy’s mouth fell open, and she snapped it shut. Mick put her in charge? After what happened? He was putting his trust in her again? She began to shake, to refuse. If anything went wrong Frank would know what to do; he wouldn’t make the wrong choice.
She made panicked eye contact with her dad and saw nothing there but confidence. She understood—he was making her get back on the horse. Forcing her to face her fear. Expecting the team to help her through it.
Squaring her shoulders, she looked at her watch. “It’s 7:20 now. Howler, you and Mooney gather our equipment. Frank, you get food. Gabriella and I will get our horses. We’ve got to ditch the press, so scatter and meet at the trailhead in one hour. We’ll go from there.”
Coltraine indicated Andy. “I’ll go with you.”
She found his hazel eyes mesmerizing, but her first instinct was to refuse his help. She could get the horses by herself, but she bit her tongue. The animals weren’t in the barn, they were out on a large pasture, and rounding them up might take a little bit of time. An extra pair of hands would be useful. “Let’s go then.”
Coltraine caught up to her as she hurried up the stairs. Before she could react, he grabbed her elbow and spun her toward him. He stood feet spread wide apart. “Do you want to tell me about the mistake you made the last time you were in charge of a mission?”
Stunned into silence not only by his rough handling but his tone, she stared into his cold hazeleyes. “No.”
His hold on her elbow tightened. “I’m not putting Sheikh Dul Fiquar’s daughter’s life in the hands of an amateur.”
She flinched. “We’ll bring her home if she’s still alive.”
“Last time you were in charge, you made a mistake that left someone dead.” His flat tone surprised her almost as much as the fact he knew about it.
Although she wanted to let the rush of hot tears go, she held them back. “Who told you? Gabriella?”
He motioned toward the mass of press. “One of them. But I can have a contact fill me in within minutes.”
“You’ve haven’t already done a background check on all of us?”
“It’s on the way. Time is of the essence. We have to get Sheikha Sabar out immediately. I warned you, this isn’t a run of the mill rescue. We’re dealing with a very powerful man, one with connections in the very highest reaches of our government. We can’t afford mistakes.”
“Then you’ll find out soon enough what happened.”
“I want to hear your version.”
She shook off his hand. He’d already formed an opinion, and nothing she could say would change the past. “I’m going to get the horses. Come, or stay.”
As she stomped up the stairs, his voice carried to her. “I’m in charge here.”
Fury filled her, and she whirled around. He was not going to steal her chance for redemption. “Like hell you are.”
CHAPTER TWO
Making their way through the crush of press prevented Coltraine from arguing further. He put his hand on the small of Andy’s back and a flash of awareness coursed through him.
A man in a wool trench coat stepped in front of them, blocking their way. He stuck a microphone under Andy’s nose. “Rod Carrington, KMEX news, Denver. What can you tell me about the downed plane? Is Sheikha Sabar Dul Fiquar still alive? Do you have any reason to suspect this was terrorist related?”
Andy tried to step around him, and he sidestepped to obstruct her path.
“What are the authorities hiding?” he pressed.
Coltraine pinned the other man with a hard stare. “The lady wants by,” he ordered in his deadliest voice. “Move.”
The reporter stepped to the side but continued to barrage them with questions. “What can you tell us about the plane’s location?”
Other reporters crowded around them, blocking their way, also shouting questions.
“Let us through,” Coltraine ordered, and the swarm of press allowed them to pass through them. “Thank you,” he said politely.
While they had been inside, snowplows had been on the move. The narrow drive into the courthouse parking lot had been blocked off by a pile of snow, leaving no exit. Andy scrambled over the white mound, Coltraine behind her, admiring the curve of her behind in spite of himself.
They darted to her Jeep while the reporters tried to figure a way out of their snowy pen. None seemed willing to climb over the snowbank in their street clothes.
At her Jeep, Coltraine went round to the passenger side and stepped in. “Get out of here. Quick. While they’re still figuring out what to do.”
Andy turned onto Spruce Avenue and headed west.
Coltraine looked in the side mirror. “We shook the press for now, but what about the others?”
“They all drive four-by-fours, they’ll go right through that little drift.” Andy chuckled. “Did you see the look on that blonde’s face? She couldn’t believe we scaled that snowdrift. I guess she didn’t want to follow in whatever designer shoes she was wearing.”
“They’ll follow your team as soon as they get through.”
She glanced at him. “This isn’t the first time we’ve gone after someone who values their privacy, you know.”
“Have you ever dealt with terrorists?”
Her eyes widened. “No.”
“It’s a whole different deal than you’re used to. We can’t afford any mistakes. If the people after the sheikha beat us to her, they’ll kill her without blinking an eye.”
“I won’t make a mistake.” She glanced at him, and her deep blue eyes were bleak. She stomped on the gas, and the Jeep fishtailed. “I made the only choice I could before.”
He didn’t believe her, but he knew when to stop interrogating. He’d pushed Andrea Baines as far as he could without breaking her. He glanced at her, then away. Tall, probably at least five-nine. He stood over six-three, and the top of her head reached his chin. Slim to the point of boyishness. Short, pitch black hair, dark eyebrows over striking blue eyes and flawless skin. A rare beauty. A certain fragility surrounded her as if she’d been broken and never healed properly.
She worried him.
What if she snapped out there when he needed her most? What if he failed her like he had Lauren?
If the sheikha and her people were still alive, he would have his hands full getting them out of the mountains. He couldn’t divide his attention between the task at hand and a woman who might collapse when the going got tough.
>
This was a fucked-up mess.
A Navy SEAL working with civvies was a disaster in the making. The last time he attempted it, a woman died.
If his team hadn’t been sent to a hot spot in Ecuador, he’d have plenty of backup. The others had not been allowed to leave their mission, but because Coltraine owed Sheikh Dul Fiquar the US government had sent for him when the Sheikh’s daughter went down.
He wondered if he’d be better off without the SAR team. Go it alone.
Painter, steady as a rock. The best of the bunch. For some reason, Howler had a big problem with him. Coltraine hoped the guy could keep his emotions under control. Mooney seemed like a big, spoiled kid. He wouldn’t last a week in the military. And the women. Baines. Savedra. She acted like a cat in heat. Could she keep her mind on business instead of trying to seduce every man in sight?
Fuck!
He’d landed in a big steaming pile of camel shit this time.
He’d been in a lot of tight situations before, but this one ranked right up toward the top.
His attention was drawn back to his surroundings when Andy turned under an enormous log arch. The sign hanging from it read Dream Weavers Therapy. “What is it that you do?”
She shot him a look that clearly said he should’ve known. But he hadn’t had time to get a complete dossier on her. Only her recent SAR history and there were few details about the last mission that left a woman dead.
“I’m a therapist. I run a program for abused women, a place for them to get back their confidence and pride. Along with job skills, they ride horses in the summer, ski in the winter. We do two six-month sessions, the last one just ended. I’m on hiatus until the beginning of January.”
A therapist who’d cracked under pressure?
He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. Right now, she and the team Mick Baines had put together was all Coltraine had. He’d give Andy a chance, but any tiny misstep and he was taking control.
She pulled up next to an enormous log house and shut down the engine. Another huge building sat under a copse of pine trees. She pointed. “The trailer is parked next to the barn over there. The horses are out back in the field.”
During his time in the Middle East, Coltraine had seen some impressive buildings, but Andy’s house and barn ranked right up there with them. She had done well for herself. “Nice place. You must have a lot of well-to-do clients.”
“You must know I can’t discuss any of that any more than you can, Lieutenant. But I can tell you that I’m funded by grants. And my mother helps out.” She reached for the door handle, obviously closing the subject.
“Your parents aren’t together?”
She snorted, a cross between a laugh and a sneeze. For a long minute, he didn’t think she was going to answer. “No. My mom’s Abigail DeLana. You must have seen her in one of her many movies.”
He had, and now he knew where Andy got her stunning looks. Abigail DeLana ranked right up there with old-time movie stars Elizabeth Taylor, Ava Gardner and Vivien Leigh for her dark haired, ivory skinned beauty.
Coltraine followed Andy along a path, already shoveled, toward the barn. How had a famous actress and a guy who probably made thirty grand on a good year get together? More importantly, how had their daughter ended up helping abused women?
The empty barn smelled like hay and leather, but not horses. A row of stalls lined one side of the aisle. The middle area was large enough to ride in; the ground raked smooth. A black and white spotted cat wrapped herself around Andy’s leg, and she gave it a distracted pat. “Run along, kitty.”
“You don’t keep your horses in here?”
She handed him a bucket. “Only when the weather gets really bad.”
He couldn’t help the grin that played around his lips. “I’d hate to see your idea of bad weather.”
Without looking at him, she reached for a pile of halters. “This storm will blow over. The horses are on vacation, enjoying the outdoors. A little bit of snow won’t hurt them.”
He’d grown up in West Texas, his experience with snow had been limited until he joined the military. His assignments had sent him around the world, including hot spots in Afghanistan. It snowed there, you better believe it.
Andy brushed past him and pushed open the big double doors. A pile of snow fell off them and landed with a soft plop at her feet. She took the grain bucket from him and shook it. “Hey, boys! Come and get it!”
From their location at the bottom of the field, one of the horses raised its head. “C’mon, now! Grain!”
The horse snorted, his breath visible in the cold air.
One of them took a few steps her way, picked up to a trot, then a gallop. The others followed, stampeding into the barn, bucking and kicking as they circled the interior. One of them came so close that Coltraine felt its hot breath on his cheek. Instinctively, he reached for Andy, jerking her out of harm’s way.
Her body pressed against his, and just for a minute, he let himself enjoy her butt up against his groin. He closed his eyes. She smelled as clean and fresh as the snow. Maybe he’d been in dirty, corrupt places too long, but this woman represented something different than anything he’d known before.
Someone he couldn’t have.
As soon as the horses went by, Coltraine let go of Andy and stepped away from her. Becoming attracted to her wasn’t going to happen. Lives depended on him keeping his head clear. He reached for one of the halters. “Which ones?”
She pointed. “The bay, the two sorrels. I’ll grab the others.”
He might’ve been out of West Texas for a few years, but Coltraine hadn’t forgotten how to catch a horse, and in a few minutes he had the geldings caught and tied at the hitch rail near the tack room door.
Andy didn’t comment, but showed him where the saddles were hung. She handed him one. “This goes on the bay.”
Together, they had six horses saddled in no time.
Three more were tacked up with packsaddles in which they would place food and equipment.
After the horses were loaded into the trailer, Andy motioned toward the house. “I need to change clothes and let Tania know where I’ll be. It will only take a minute. Come on and grab a cup of coffee while I get ready.”
Inside, a blast of warm air struck Coltraine.
And the scent of cinnamon.
He knew he’d never smell it again without thinking of Lauren. He refused to allow his mind to go there, focusing on Andy’s slender frame as she guided him through a short, dark hallway into an industrial-sized kitchen. She flipped on the lights and lit up bright stainless steel appliances all spotlessly clean. After pouring him a cup of coffee, she grabbed cream out of the fridge and pointed out a container of sugar on the shelf.
“I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home.”
Although curious about the rest of the house, he stayed in the kitchen. Settling on a barstool, he sipped his hot coffee and looked out the window. The snow had stopped, but low-lying clouds obscured the peaks. He hoped the sheikha and her people were still alive, and that they would stay put until he could come for them. The temperature wasn’t unbearable now, but come nightfall it would drop well below freezing. He doubted any of the Mid Easterners knew how to build a fire. Maybe the pilot. If they were in shock, anything could be going on. And if they were injured . . .
A movement caught his attention.
Leaving his cup on the table, he slipped to the window and looked out. A man, who could only be a reporter, carrying a camera and a notebook, snuck around the side of the barn. Coltraine left the house and followed the man’s footsteps.
Coltraine found the same man who’d blocked Andy earlier peering in the door of the barn. “What are you doing?”
The man spun toward him, dropping his notebook in the snow. “I’m looking for Andrea Baines. Is she here?”
“In the barn? No.” Coltraine stepped forward, bent and retrieved the man’s damp notebook. “Here”
Taking it with trem
bling hands, the man tried to look around Coltraine’s shoulder. “Where can I find her?”
“She’s not available right now.”
“Who are you?”
Coltraine sighed. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you, and I really don’t want to do that.”
The man’s eyes widened. “You’re not serious.” But he didn’t sound certain. He fumbled for his camera.
“You don’t want to do that.”
“I need to talk to Andrea,” the man insisted. “And get a few pictures.”
“I already explained she isn’t available right now.” Coltraine pointed toward the road. “Please leave.”
The man aimed his camera at Coltraine.
With two quick steps, Coltraine took the camera and stuffed it in his coat pocket. Then, with minimum effort, he picked the man up and slung him over his shoulder. Holding the guy’s struggling body with one hand, he opened the barn door, carried the reporter inside and dropped him on a pile of fresh straw in an empty stall. Coltraine backed out, closed the stall door and bolted it. Calmly, he held his hand out through the bars along the top half of the stall. “Give me your cell phone and car keys.”
The reporter’s face turned red, and he lunged to his feet, reaching through the bars for the bolt. “You’ll pay for this. You’ll be on the cover of every paper in the country when I’m through with you. You have no idea who you’re messing with.”
“Give me your keys and your phone,” Coltraine tapped the man’s fingers, “and keep your hands inside there.”
“Or what?” the reporter shouted.
“I don’t think you want me to take them from you,” Coltraine said.
“What’s going on in here?” Andy entered the barn with a horrified look on her face. “Who is that man? Let him out.” She tried to step around Coltraine.
He blocked her path. “As soon as we leave, he can let himself out, but for now he needs to stay put.”
