Cowboy Under Fire

by LENA DIAZ,

  “Hayley, I understand your fears,” he called out from below, his voice gentle, sweet, soothing. “It’s okay. Just know that I love you. I want to make sure you know that, all right? I love you, Hayley Nash. I want to make love to you, make babies with you, watch your hair turn gray and rock on a front porch with you sassing at me the whole time. But if all we have is these last few minutes, I understand. We’ll face the end together. We’ll die together. I’m here for you. It’s okay.”

  She jerked her head up. He’d die for her? Forget that. She wanted him to live.

  The door burst open behind her with a thundering boom. Flames roiled over her head, reaching for the air outside.

  She scrambled out the window, biting her lip to not cry out from the pain of her knee bumping against it.

  “That’s it, Hayley,” he called out. “That’s it, sweetheart. You’re doing great.”

  She clung to the windowsill above her, flattening her body against the rock wall. Her hands ached. Her arm muscles burned. Her whole body started shaking.

  “I love you,” he called out. “Trust me. Just let go.”

  “I love you, Dalton!” She let go.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Hayley shielded her eyes from the sun overhead, watching as the workers fastened the last of the black metal fire escapes onto the back of the new castle. Most of the Justice Seekers roamed around the enormous patio, drinking and eating, laughing at each other’s outlandish stories as music piped in through the outdoor speakers. Beside Hayley, Dalton stood watching the workers as well, his arm wrapped around her waist. Everyone was there, even still-recovering Bryson in his wheelchair, marking this very special occasion: the completion of Camelot. A newer, better, far safer Camelot than the previous one.

  Mason had been shaken to the core after Dalton and Hayley had come so close to perishing in the flames. He’d razed the entire thing to the ground and built this new building in a completely different location. It was still perched in the gorgeous Smoky Mountains, with incredible views. But it was on a long piece of flat land that had cost a fortune to have carved out this high up.

  The patio extended twenty yards past the base of the building in all directions. And there were trees, right up close to the building, with different levels of branches in case anyone needed to break their fall. Not that they should have to with balconies and fire escapes clinging to the stone facade.

  “You might want to wipe that look of distaste off your face before Mason notices how much you hate his new castle,” Dalton teased.

  Her face grew warm. “I’m sorry. It’s just so—”

  “Ugly?”

  She laughed. “Safety before beauty. At least the front is beautiful. It must have cost him a fortune.”

  “Not really.”

  She glanced up in question.

  “Let’s just say that Bethany might have bequeathed him the money as her penance for what she did.”

  “Wait. I thought the millions she was trying to get transferred to an untraceable account went through. The money’s lost forever.”

  “It’s untraceable. I agree with that.” He winked.

  She shook her head. “Some things I just shouldn’t ask about.” She tilted her head, hoping a different angle would make the fire escape ladders look better. Nope. Still hideous. “I think the fire traumatized Mason more than it did us. He went a bit overboard.”

  “No. He didn’t.” He gently turned her to face him. “Anything that helps ensure your safety is a good thing.” He grinned. “Even if it’s ugly.”

  She shook her head in wonder and smoothed her hands up his suit, delighting at the way her engagement ring winked in the sunlight. “I love you more than you’ll ever know, Dalton. You saved me, in every way that a person can be saved.”

  He stared down at her in wonder and slowly shook his head. “No, Hayley, my love. I didn’t save you. You saved me.”

  She smiled up at him through yet another waterfall of tears, then kissed her sweet knight.

  And they lived happily-ever-after.

  * * *

  Look for the next book in Lena Diaz’s

  The Justice Seekers miniseries when

  Agent Under Siege goes on sale in January 2021,

  only from Harlequin Intrigue!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Mountain of Evidence by Cindi Myers.

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  Mountain of Evidence

  by Cindi Myers

  Chapter One

  Missing Man: Presumed Dangerous

  $25,000 Reward!

  The bold announcement on the poster tacked to the post office bulletin board was enough to catch the attention of almost every patron who waited in line, but it was the photo beneath the words that made Eve Shea’s stomach sink. The dark-haired man with the chiseled features of an outdoorsman and determined blue eyes looked out from what was probably a company ID photo, but in the context of the poster looked more like a mug shot.

  Wanted: Dane Trask

  43, 6′2″, 180 lb.

  Blue eyes, dark brown hair

  Armed and dangerous

  If you know anything about the whereabouts of this man, call the number below.

  Dane, where are you, and what have you done? Eve thought as she stared at the picture of her former lover—the man she had once dreamed of marrying. Though she and Dane had agreed to stop seeing each other six months ago, Eve couldn’t help but feel for him. He hadn’t been the man she needed, but she had believed he was a good man, and now the news reports were saying that he had done terrible things—embezzled money from his employer, and even committed acts of terrorism. Could she really have loved a terrorist?

  “Ma’am? It’s your turn.” The man behind her in line got Eve’s attention and nodded toward the front counter, where a clerk waited, deep frown lines furrowing her brow.

  “Oh! Sorry.” Eve hurried to the counter and handed over her parcel to be weighed.

  Dane was still on her mind as she exited the building a few moments later and started the short walk to the flower shop she owned on Main Street in Montrose, Colorado. The last time she had heard from him had been two months ago, when he had texted to wish her a happy birthday. It was just like him to remember and acknowledge the date. “I understand we can’t be lovers,” he had said when they ended their three-year relationship. “But I’ll always be your friend.”

  A knot formed in her throat at the memory. In some ways, the split might have been easier if he had been a jerk about it, but that just wasn’t Dane. He wasn’t the type to act out of anger or spite. Looking back, she could say that was one of the reasons things hadn’t worked out between them—Dane was always so controlled. She had wanted passion, romance, an undying commitment.

  She had wanted a baby. And Dane had been adamant that he had no desire to be a father again. He adored his daughter, Audra, but she was twenty-three and he had no interest in raising another child. It was the one big difference they simply couldn’t get past.

  She pushed open the door to Eve’s Garden and an electronic chime announced her entry. She breathed in the scents of fresh roses and carnations and some of the tension in her shoulders eased. A trio of fountains burbled in the corner and a pyramid of ivy, ferns and other green plants basked in the light streaming through the front display window. Fresh flower arrangements awaited buyers from a bank of lighted coolers, and racks of greeting cards and shelves of small gift items invited browsing. Everything about this place was peaceful and beautiful, the product of her inspiration and hard work.

  “Good morning.” Sarah Maclean, a tal
l fortysomething woman who wore her blond hair in a pixie cut, emerged from the shop’s back room. Eve had hired Sarah as her first full-time employee two years ago. She hadn’t been looking to take on any help but Sarah, who had experience as a floral designer and a desire to go back to work once her youngest child entered high school, had persuaded Eve that she would be an asset to the business. Which, indeed, she was. “I’ve got the arrangements for the Women’s Club luncheon ready to go, and I just sent Manuel out with the orders for First Bank and Hightower Financial,” Sarah said.

  “Thanks,” Eve said, passing through to behind the front counter. “I’d say you’re far too energetic this early in the morning, but I’d be a fool to complain.”

  “I never can sleep past six and I like to keep busy,” Sarah said. “Oh, and I stopped by the post office on my way in and collected the mail from our box. It’s on your desk.”

  Eve had been so shaken by Dane’s wanted poster she had forgotten to even check the post office box. “I’ll go through the mail, then start working on the order for the Salazar wedding and reception,” she said. The wedding and subsequent banquet would require an extra shipment of roses, lilies, stephanotis, and trailing ivy for the bride’s bouquet, six bridesmaids’ bouquets, boutonnieres for the groom, father of the bride, attendants and ushers, corsages for the mothers of the bride and groom, a hair wreath for the flower girl, four large arrangements for the front of the church, and ten table arrangements for the reception, plus small swags for the buffet tables. It could easily be Eve’s largest commission of the year.

  “All right, but first I want to know how your date went on Friday night.” Sarah picked up her coffee cup and leaned back against the counter, as if in anticipation of a long chat. “Was he as good-looking as his picture online? Did the two of you hit it off?”

  Eve had to think a moment to recall what Sarah was talking about. Friday already seemed so long ago. She shrugged. “He was okay, but I doubt I’ll see him again.”

  Sarah’s shoulders and face sagged with disappointment. “What happened? Why wouldn’t he want to see you again? You’re so nice, and funny, and is he blind, because honestly, you’re gorgeous.”

  Eve laughed. “You might be a little bit biased.” In addition to running the shop with the organization only a mother of four could bring, Sarah was intent on whipping Eve’s life into shape. She wasn’t overly pushy, just Eve’s number one champion and cheerleader. “Nothing happened. Not really.” That was part of the problem. Doug Howard had been a well-mannered, good-looking, friendly guy who owned a local pest control company. He was divorced with two boys, and seemed like a good father and a very nice man. But Eve had felt zero attraction to him and by the end of the evening was counting the minutes until she could politely say good-night.

  “No sparks, huh?” Sarah looked sympathetic. “Don’t you worry, hon. You keep putting yourself out there and you’ll find the right man.”

  Eve nodded. “I won’t stop trying, I promise.” After her split with Dane, she and Sarah had devised what they called “the plan.” Eve had registered for two online dating sites, and discreetly put the word out to friends that she was interested in meeting eligible men who were ready to settle down and start a family. She reasoned that the more candidates for “the one” she auditioned, the more likely she was to meet her Mr. Right. It was a little like interviewing a candidate for a job—the most important job she could imagine—her life partner and the father of her children.

  But in six months of going out at least once and often twice a week, she hadn’t even come up with one possible finalist for the position.

  “What about Saturday?” Sarah asked. “Did you go out Saturday night?”

  “Saturday I stayed home.” She had binge-watched romantic movies, eaten ice cream and, frankly, felt sorry for herself.

  “All this stuff with Dane has you upset, doesn’t it?” Sarah asked. She knew the whole story of Dane and Eve’s ill-fated relationship. Eve sometimes thought her friend mourned the break-up harder than Eve had. Now Sarah’s expressive features twisted into a look of horror and pity. “The news stories are just horrible, but you have to ignore them. Dane isn’t part of your life anymore. You have to move on.”

  “Dane will always be part of my life,” she said. “A part that’s in the past, but I can’t just ignore the fact that he’s missing and no one knows whether he’s dead or alive. And that he’s been accused of horrible things. That isn’t like the man I know at all.”

  “I saw a notice at the post office this morning,” Sarah said. “Offering a $25,000 reward for information about Dane’s whereabouts. The poster said he’s dangerous. Do you think that’s true?”

  Was Dane dangerous? He certainly hadn’t been to her. But he had been an army ranger, and he was athletic and fit, and knew how to handle a gun. For some unknown reason, he had left his job almost a month ago, saying he was headed for a hike in Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park. And he hadn’t been heard from since. Park rangers found his black Ford pickup at the bottom of the canyon, but they hadn’t found his body or his backpack, which led some people to believe Dane had tried to fake his own death.

  But why?

  “You’re not answering me,” Sarah said. “Does that mean you think Dane is dangerous?”

  “No!” Eve protested. “I just...” She shrugged. “Before all this, I would have said I knew Dane pretty well. Now, I don’t know what to think.”

  “I always liked him,” Sarah said. “Even if I did think he took you for granted. And I never understood why he was so reluctant to have more children. I mean, he and Audra get along great. You’d think he would want to repeat the experience.”

  It was an old argument, one Eve no longer wanted to hear. “I can’t worry about Dane now. I have to get to work.”

  She moved to the tiny kitchen off the workspace and poured a cup of coffee from the pot Sarah had started earlier, then carried it to her desk in the equally tiny office. There was just enough room in there for a desk, a filing cabinet and a desk chair. Any visitors to the office had to stand in the doorway to speak to her.

  She switched on her computer, then began sorting the pile of mail on the desk blotter. A floral supply catalog, two flyers from printing companies, an announcement about a florists’ convention, a reminder about a seasonal sale from one of her suppliers, a bill from a wholesaler and a small pile of ads and come-ons she transferred straight to the recycling bin under the desk.

  At the bottom of the pile was a nine-by-twelve manila envelope. When she turned it over to read the address on the front, she stopped breathing for a moment. The envelope didn’t have a return address, but the handwriting for her name and PO box was familiar to her from birthday and Valentine’s cards over the past few years.

  Hand trembling, she picked up the silver letter opener embossed with the name of a floral wholesaler—a trade show freebie from last year—and slit open the envelope. She slid out a single sheet of paper.

  FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

  TDC Enterprises Falsifies Reports in

  Major Environmental Fraud

  The press release that followed charged TDC with lying about contaminant levels at a mine site they had contracted to clean up as part of the federal government’s Superfund cleanup program. TDC had been awarded a hefty chunk of taxpayer money to return the contaminated Mary Lee Mine to an environmentally safe condition, free of arsenic, mercury, sulfuric acid and other hazardous chemicals that had leached into soil and water on or near the site over the years.

  Instead of using the government funds to remove contaminants from the site, this press release charged TDC with adding even more contaminants, and then lying about everything in official reports.

  Eve read through the release twice, her wariness growing. Unlike the traditional press releases that had crossed her desk in the three years she had worked for the Montrose Daily Press prior t
o opening this shop, this one contained no contact information, or sources for these allegations.

  She picked up the envelope again and examined it. Something hard lay inside. She upended the envelope and a brass key landed on the desk with a thunk. Pain squeezed her heart as she stared at the key. She had one just like it, tucked away in the jewelry box on top of her dresser at home. Dane had given her that key. Why was he sending her its mate now?

  Copyright © 2020 by Cynthia Myers

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  ISBN-13: 9781488067778

  Cowboy Under Fire

  Copyright © 2020 by Lena Diaz

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.