Free ROCKY MOUNTAIN RESCUE by Cindi Myers Page B

him?
    “I think this is our turnoff up here,” he said, indicating a road that branched to the left. “It goes around the lake and doesn’t get much use this time of year, but it’s usually kept plowed.”
    “I’ll take your word for it,” she said.
    The two-lane road was paved for the first mile, and then blacktop gave way to gravel. A thin layer of snow covered the rock, and banks of snow had been pushed up on either side. He had to slow his speed to about thirty around the many curves; no doubt it would take even longer to get to Crested Butte. She struggled to avoid fidgeting with impatience.
    “I still can’t believe anyone would want anything from Carlo,” she said after half an hour of silence. Talking was better than letting her thoughts range out of control, and for a guy, Patrick was a decent listener. He didn’t discount her ideas with every breath.
    “Maybe we’re looking at this wrong,” Patrick said. “Maybe Carlo isn’t the target at all—maybe it’s you.”
    “Me?”
    “If someone wanted to hurt you, what better way to do that than to take away the one person who matters most to you?”
    She wrapped her arms across her stomach, his words like a physical blow. “If Sammy was still alive, I might believe he’d do something like this. He hated me enough.”
    “Why did he hate you?”
    She’d spent most of her marriage trying to figure out the answer to that question. “I was one more thing his father forced on him. Left to his own devices, he’d have chosen a tall, long-legged, busty model type. Someone he could dress up and show off, who’d cling to his arm and look at him adoringly and pretend not to have a brain in her head.”
    “It’s not as if you aren’t attractive.”
    She winced. Did he feel sorry for her? Why else would he be handing out compliments? “He called me ‘troll.’” Saying the hated nickname out loud still hurt. “And he said I was too smart for my own good.” Though at least she was smart enough not to feel insulted by his acknowledgment of her brains.
    Patrick’s knuckles on the steering wheel whitened. “You’re not a troll,” he said. “And I’d rather be with a smart woman than ten supermodels who play dumb.”
    “I don’t guess you get many chances to guard supermodels,” she said. “You might change your mind if you did.”
    She didn’t give him a chance to hand out more false compliments. She sat forward and peered at the road ahead. “Are you sure we’re headed the right way? This doesn’t look like much of a road.”
    The graveled two-track had narrowed further, trees closing in on either side. They’d seen no sign of houses or other traffic in miles. “The map showed this as an alternate route.” He glanced at the screen on the GPS unit mounted on the dash. “And the GPS shows we’re headed in the right direction.”
    “It just doesn’t look as if anyone has traveled this way in a while.”
    “That’s good. Whoever is threatening you won’t think to check this route.”
    “Maybe not.” But her expression remained clouded.
    They rounded a curve and he had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting a tree. The huge pine lay across the road, branches filling their field of vision, the needles almost black against the white snow. Patrick shifted into Park and stared at the tree. It completely blocked both lanes.
    “What do we do now?” Stacy asked.
    He slipped his gun from his holster, making sure it was loaded and ready to fire, then grasped the door handle. “Stay here while I check things out,” he said. “If anyone starts shooting, stay down.”

Chapter Seven
    The tree was positioned perfectly for an ambush, lying in the arc of a narrow, uphill curve with thick woods on either side. Keeping low and using the car as a shield, Patrick examined the snow around them for tracks, but found only the prints of squirrels and birds. He froze and strained his ears, listening, but heard only the pinging of the cooling engine and