Canyon Standoff

by Valerie Hansen

  While Hannah had met Morgan, he’d never told his sister about their marriage. Initially, he knew she’d question his rush to the altar. Foolishness and pride had kept him quiet ever since.

  He thought of Morgan daily, but more intensely on these hikes. Morgan Dunham was still a park ranger here, and he spent little time in public areas to avoid seeing her.

  Eric lay on the flat rock, closed his eyes and let the still, hot air bake away the aches in his joints.

  If things had been different, he could have loved Morgan forever. That was probably why he took serious pains to avoid her. She was the kind of woman who would make a soldier question his life choices.

  After this last deployment, some of those decisions looked a lot like taking a job in a remote park where nobody shot at him or tried to blow him up. At thirty-one, the thought of another deployment sapped his mental and physical energy.

  But right now, under the heat of the sun after a long day of hiking, peace bred a warm rest he couldn’t fight.

  A shift in the light sat him straight up, heart pounding. The sun had dipped, deepening the shadows around him. How long had he been asleep?

  He glanced at his watch. Over an hour. Why had Hannah let him sleep? They had to make camp before dark and—

  Hannah.

  Eric sprang to his feet so fast, head swimming with heat. His sister hadn’t returned. Her pack still sat where she’d left it.

  His heart drove faster as he jogged toward the creek bend, calling her name over and over, echoes overlapping his shouts.

  Past the bend, in the mud at the edge of the creek, there were boot prints that disappeared at the water’s edge.

  And a yellow bandanna lying at the edge of the shallow water.

  ONE

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Lanning. I can’t comment on active investigations or searches, but I can put you through to Public Relations.” Ranger Morgan Dunham glanced out of the small office into the lobby of the Backcountry Information Center. In the sunlit room, rangers answered questions or helped backpackers obtain permits for trips deep into the Grand Canyon.

  If only she’d stepped in to help with the backlog instead of answering the phone. Brandon Lanning was a self-styled outdoor guru and blogger who had latched onto the disappearance of a female hiker two weeks earlier. He called multiple times a day, convinced there was a vast conspiracy “the people” needed to know about.

  “All I want is an update on Hannah Larson. This is a high-profile missing-persons case.”

  Hannah had disappeared in the canyon two weeks earlier. While the circumstances were somewhat strange, it was far from “high profile.” The mission had shifted from rescue to recovery, and resources had been assigned to other rescues and a troubling series of attacks on park rangers. Two rangers had been beaten at remote stations. Another had nearly been shoved off a ledge following a nature talk. Coupled with Hannah’s disappearance, the park was on edge.

  No way was she passing that on to Blogger Brandon.

  She didn’t want to talk about it with anyone. Hannah’s disappearance was too personal. “I’m transferring you to Public Relations. Have a nice day.” Morgan punched buttons, then settled the phone into its cradle.

  Tomorrow, Morgan was headed out on a private search, using vacation time to hike an area outside the search grid.

  Tapping a pen on the desk, she stared into the lobby. Hannah Larson. The name brought images of another time, another search... The search for the girl’s parents had ended with the recovery of two bodies, miles apart, wrecked by the Colorado River’s rapids.

  Brought images of Hannah’s brother, Eric, Morgan’s ex-husband. The marriage had been short-lived, but the emotions ran high.

  She’d met his sister only a handful of times, the first on the day Rangers Kim and Rob Larson were buried, the loss deep for the family and for the Park Service. Hannah had been at college when Eric proposed on the edge of the canyon less than a week later. Morgan should have recognized it for the fit of grief it was, should have realized she was reacting to her own loneliness as a newly minted ranger running from her past.

  When Hannah disappeared, Morgan had been on a ten-day backcountry patrol miles away from the search area, unable to help. Now she’d had her mandatory four days of postpatrol rest and had taken leave starting tomorrow. She intended to spend the next two weeks on a private patrol.

  While her marriage to Eric had flamed out quickly in a battle of distance and competing life goals, he deserved closure if the massive canyon had stolen his last living family member. And Morgan would do everything she could to help him find it...as long as she didn’t have to actually lay eyes on him.

  Half of her longed to find him and offer some comfort, but seeing him again might cause her to chuck her career and follow him wherever the army ordered. Not a day had passed in the last eight years when she hadn’t lost herself at some point in the what-ifs of their failed attempt at a life together.

  Morgan turned to the computer and moved the mouse, wiping away an image of a sunset over the canyon, and studied the gridded map laid out during the search. She zoomed in on the area around Still Spring, where Hannah had vanished, then sketched out a route along the Unkar Delta, one few of the searchers had chosen.

  So much made no sense. Even with the recent rains, Lava Creek wasn’t deep enough to sweep away a grown woman. Getting lost would have been hard unless Hannah was trying to disappear.

  A couple of searchers had floated the idea Eric had killed his sister, but that didn’t wash. There was no evidence, and Eric...

  He’d never hurt Hannah.

  But too many years had passed... Did Morgan know him anymore?

  Had they really known each other to start with? Not only had they hidden their marriage from his sister, but she’d never shared her deepest fears with him, never shared the reason she’d left the police force to become a backcountry ranger. He’d have looked at her differently, would have shunned her like...

  Not that it mattered. The walls between them had been higher than either of them had acknowledged.

  And now, with his sister missing, she couldn’t do anything for him except search.

  She propped her chin on her balled fist, closed her eyes and prayed for Hannah’s safety. Only God could provide after this amount of time. She asked God to guide and encourage searchers disheartened after a long trek with no resolution.

  She prayed for Eric. Lord, comfort him. Don’t let him become bitter—

  “Morgan.”

  The sound of her name hit her ears like a rock slide. Her eyes tightened. It had to be imaginary, because that voice... It sounded like his.

  “Morgan, open your eyes.” The words cracked with exhaustion and uncertainty.

  She counted to three. If no one was there, she was hallucinating, which meant a host of bad things. But if he was in front of her, life was about to get worse than a wild imagination.

  Morgan looked up and rocketed to her feet, the sensation that her heart had lodged in her throat nearly choking her. “Eric.” His name shattered into a whisper.

  Eric Larson stood on the other side of the desk, still tall, even more muscular and with a face more chiseled and matured by time and experience. His brown hair was short and streaked by the sun. And his eyes... Those same brown eyes that had gazed at her with love and longing were now dark with grief and determination.

  The woozy sensation of looking into the eyes of a stranger who had once been her husband almost rocked her off her feet. She gripped the edge of the desk and fought for some sort of professional control.

  He said nothing, merely stared as though their reunion shook him, as well.

  Morgan cleared her throat and found her voice first. “I’m sorry about Hannah.” Aiming a finger at a chair on the other side of the desk, she sat and waited for him to do the same.

  He glanc
ed over his shoulder at the door, then studied her before he sat, tension cording his muscles. He watched her as though he expected something Morgan didn’t know how to give him.

  Still, he said nothing.

  Morgan turned the computer screen toward him, desperate to break the tense silence. “I’m taking leave for two weeks and heading out tomorrow, checking out this area here.” She stabbed a finger at the location she’d marked. “It’s outside the search grid, but it won’t hurt to—”

  “They think I’m pushing myself too hard and they won’t give me another permit to hike unless I have someone with me. I’m going with you.”

  The steel in his voice ran a chill along her arms. Hiking the backcountry with the man who’d very briefly been her entire world? The man who still haunted both her dreams and her waking thoughts?

  No. Any other ranger in the park could take him. Several of them owed her favors. She was going out on her own without any dangerous proximity to Eric Larson.

  Morgan dug her teeth into her lower lip. A direct denial would ramp up his stubborn streak. She needed a minute. “I thought you left this morning.”

  “And I thought you’d help me. Maybe I was wrong.” He leaped out of the chair and paced to the door, staring out into the lobby, his shoulders a tight line. “I’m sorry. This whole mess has me...” Eric returned and sank into the chair again, as though despair and defeat had liquefied his bones. His gaze rested on the floor between his feet. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  He’d worn the same lost-little-boy expression ten years ago, wrestling with the loss of his parents.

  It had melted Morgan’s heart.

  She was eight years older and a broken marriage wiser now, but this man still squeezed her emotions. If Morgan still had the right, she’d round the desk, crouch in front of him and pull his head to her shoulder, let him share her strength.

  But they’d signed away the right when they inked divorce papers. Although it was way beyond her better judgment, the best she could offer him was her time.

  “I’m heading out from Nankoweap Trailhead at five thirty in the morning. Another ranger is dropping me off early so I can hike before the day gets too hot. Meet me there.” There was no need to give him further instructions. She’d followed his journeys with Hannah every year, tracing their paper trail through the system. Eric knew what to pack and how to dress. He was also a meticulous planner and didn’t need her babysitting him.

  “Thank you.” He lifted his gaze to meet hers briefly, then dropped it again. “I wouldn’t be here if I had another option. I’d... I’d let you keep on living your life without my interference.”

  “I know.” Morgan puffed out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “I’ll take care of having your permit updated and bring you a new one with me at the trailhead tomorrow. When was the last time you slept?”

  Eric shook his head, his posture saying he might fall asleep in the chair if he didn’t move soon. It was probably the first time he’d sat, the first time he’d allowed himself to remove some of the burden.

  Rounding the desk, Morgan laid a hand on his shoulder, the first time she’d touched him in too many years. It was a memory and a touch she didn’t allow to linger. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your car. You’re no good to Hannah if you land yourself in the hospital.”

  He stood and let her usher him into the lobby. At the exterior door, Morgan called over her shoulder to Ranger Mark Davis, “Be back in a minute.”

  He waved her away with a quick glance and an approving nod at her companion. Yeah, nobody knew that, to her, Eric was so much more than a grieving family member.

  They stepped into the September morning and walked to the end of the sidewalk near the parking lot. “Where’s your car?”

  Eric aimed the key fob at a gunmetal-gray Jeep Wrangler near the end of the first row and pressed the button.

  The world exploded.

  * * *

  Eric dived, dragging Morgan down and instinctively rolling her beneath him. Gravel and dirt rained around them.

  His ears rang, the initial shock of sound nearly blinding him. He fought to recover his senses, to remember this was Arizona, not overseas. This was safe ground.

  Or what should be safe ground. He reached for his hip. No pistol. It was secured in his rental vehicle.

  As the blast echoed away, he sat up and tucked Morgan behind him. A handful of people in the parking lot emerged from behind vehicles, pale and shaken.

  Rangers rushed from every direction. They called orders and herded frightened visitors to safety.

  No one seemed to be injured, although everyone was shaken.

  It was likely a prank, but the explosion had been too loud to be fireworks or a soda-bottle bomb. It didn’t matter. The entire government would descend soon, no matter how small the device.

  “You okay?” He pivoted and reached for her, needing to reassure himself she was safe.

  Morgan was pale. Too pale. Her deep brown eyes found the source of the explosion and she locked her gaze onto the smoking trash can. She might be present, but her mind was clearly somewhere else.

  Eric had seen it in too many soldiers, when post-traumatic stress disorder and memories knocked them out of the present and into a past they refused to talk about.

  Morgan was rattled, but not by what was happening in the moment. Something else haunted her.

  Something much worse.

  “Hey.” Forgetting everything around them, Eric cradled her chin in his palms. His fingers lay across her cheek, over faint scars he had noticed years ago. Scars she’d never explained.

  Pieces clicked into place. Sometime, somewhere, something had literally exploded in Morgan’s face. Every piece of his heart that had ever loved her had to let her know she was safe.

  Had to protect her. She might not be his any longer, but he would never let anything hurt her. “Morgan, it’s me. It’s Eric. You’re safe. It’s okay. It’s really okay.”

  Her eyes shifted and narrowed as she searched his face. She blinked rapidly and jerked her chin, tearing her gaze from his and ripping his hands from her face.

  As though a switch flipped, the Morgan who’d vanished regained her park ranger bravado. She was on her feet, hand resting on the pistol at her hip, scanning the area. “What happened? Is everyone okay?” Her voice trembled, but anyone who didn’t know her would likely miss it.

  “Everyone seems to be fine.” Eric urged her inside to safety, but she jerked away.

  “I’ve got this. Get into the building and wait for instructions.” She was already walking away, holding a hand out toward a group huddled in front of the wood-and-glass building, waving them toward the lobby. “I mean it, Eric.”

  Sure she did. He’d been wrong to treat her like a weak female in need of protection. She was competent and trained.

  But she still needed someone to watch her back.

  Eric dogged Morgan’s footsteps into the lobby and stood to the side while the other park rangers took inventory of visitors, calmed frightened tourists and secured the area around the blast zone.

  More Park Service employees arrived, clogging the space.

  Eric’s mind whirled, analyzing postures and gestures in the mass of people. Any one of them could have detonated the trash can as part of a larger plan to gather everyone into one place and then cause even worse damage.

  Across the room near the service counters, Morgan engaged in a serious conversation with an older ranger, but her eyes scanned the room, a deep crease etched into her forehead. She was likely doing the same thing Eric was, evaluating the threat level.

  Easing around a mother and her three teenage children, he made his way to Morgan’s side.

  The other ranger, Towbridge by his name tag, was speaking. “Investigative Services is coming in. Given the other incidents we’ve had recentl
y, we’re looking at a wide-scope investigation.”

  Morgan stood with her back to the wall, a defensive stance if Eric had ever seen one. “Will this affect my leave?”

  “No.” Towbridge shook his head as his phone buzzed. He reached for the device. “You’re probably safer in the backcountry. Just be careful. Maybe reconsider going alone.” Pulling the phone to his ear, he stepped away.

  With a curt nod, Morgan turned and gasped as she saw Eric at her elbow. “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough. What other incidents?”

  Her stare was guarded, her expression tense. With a glance to make sure no one was near, she lowered her voice. “There have been a handful of attacks on rangers in some of the isolated public areas of the park.”

  “So this could be an escalation, a threat of something bigger to come?”

  The lines around her mouth tightened, and she flicked another glance at the crowd. “This could be as simple as fireworks and a bored teenager—”

  “It was bigger than fireworks.”

  Morgan brushed past him, headed for a knot of people near the door. “You were here at the time of the blast. Investigators will want to talk to you as well as everyone else here. After you’re released, pack and get some sleep. Meet me in the morning.” She walked away. “You and I are done here.”

  TWO

  Thunder echoed through the canyon, rolling from seemingly a thousand directions at once, a wave of sound that chilled Morgan from the inside out. Sure, it had been years since she left the city and started working as a backcountry law enforcement ranger, years since the bombing that had shattered lives and mangled her emotions...