Rocky Mountain Manhunt

His first obvious step was to gain her trust so she’d allow him to come closer. If he could get her talking, he could convince her to leave. Feigning nonchalance, he said, “You’re cooking something.”

“I caught a fish.” She sounded proud of herself. “That’s my dinner.”

“I’m hungry, too. Maybe we could share.”

A frown creased her forehead. “I suppose I should offer my hospitality. That’s the proper thing to do, to share whatever is mine.”

“You’re right,” he said. “That’s proper.”

But when he took a step closer, she raised her gun again. Her attitude changed. “Normal rules don’t apply out here.” Her voice was firm. “I advise you not to come any closer.”

Looking down the barrel of her handgun, he planted his feet and took root. “I’m not moving.”

Her gaze darted as though searching for something. “I don’t want to shoot you, but I will.”

Approaching her was like trying to get close to a wounded mountain lion. She needed his help but refused to take it. She was scared. And, therefore, dangerous.

“I don’t mean any harm.” He needed to convince her that he was a friend. Reaching into the pocket of his flannel shirt, he took out the candy bar and held it up so she could see. “I’ll make you a deal—put down the gun, and you can have this.”

“Chocolate,” she whispered. “Oh, how I’ve missed chocolate.”

Her mouth watered. Her stomach growled. Never in her life had Rain wanted anything more than she wanted that candy bar. She wanted to inhale the sugary cocoa fragrance, to feel the gooey texture as it melted on her tongue.

This man—Liam—held the candy bar toward her. He was calm, unaware of the treasure in his hands. She swallowed hard, remembering her father and the candy bars he’d carried.

But she wasn’t ready to entrust her hard-won safety to Liam. Though he said he was alone and worked for CCC, she didn’t know for sure. He could be one of the hunters.

Still keeping watch on him, she glanced toward the meadow and the stream. The sound of her gunshot should have summoned other searchers, other hunters.

But she saw no one else.

Was it safe to take the chocolate?

No way would she allow Liam to come closer. He was a big man, over six feet tall. Though he was lean, his shoulders looked muscular inside his red-and-black plaid flannel shirt.

Her gaze zeroed in on the candy bar. “Do you have any credentials from CCC?”

“Nope. It’s a volunteer organization.”

“Then how do I know you’re working with them?”

“You have to trust me,” he said.

Not a chance. Not so easily. What if he was armed? She certainly couldn’t get close enough to frisk him. Gesturing emphatically with her gun, she said, “Take off your shirt.”

He set the candy bar down on the pine needles and did as she asked, peeling off the plaid flannel. A white T-shirt fit snugly across his chest. His upper arms were sinewy and strong. There wasn’t an ounce of flab on his frame.

“Now,” she said, “put your hands over your head and turn around in a circle. Real slow.”

Though she should have been looking for a handgun or a holster fastened to his leather belt, she was distracted by his tapering torso and his tight, round bottom. She wanted to believe that he wasn’t one of the men hunting her. But how could she be sure?

When he faced her again, she studied his features, looking for a reason to trust him. Or to know he was the enemy. He had a good, strong nose and firm jaw that made her think he was either stubborn or arrogant. What about his eyes? Eyes were the clearest indicator of temperament. His were deep-set, hazel in color. Though she was holding a lethal weapon, his eyes showed no fear. Instead, there was…determination? Curiosity?

“Empty your pockets,” she ordered.

A muscle in his jaw twitched, and she could tell that he was irritated. But he did as she asked.

The contents of his pockets included a Swiss Army knife, but nothing else that could be considered dangerous.

Satisfied that he was unarmed, she said, “Okay, I’ll take that chocolate now.”

“It’s my dinner,” he said. “Do I get some of your fish?”

When she’d been a little girl, camping with her father, Rain had learned to share her bounty with anyone who showed up at the campfire. Wilderness hospitality meant looking out for each other.

Obviously, such protocol didn’t apply to someone who meant to do you harm. Though Liam said he was on a search-and-rescue mission, she still wasn’t convinced. She wouldn’t give up her edge, no matter how attractive his butt. “Toss the candy bar over here, close to these rocks. Then, step back five paces.”

Again, he followed her instructions.

As she climbed down from the boulders, her heart beat faster. The air grew thick with portent, and she felt a little bit dizzy. Interaction with another human being had jolted something loose inside her head. Another memory. Not a pleasant one.

A sense of danger flared, and the heat spread through her veins, melting her resolve, dragging her toward a dangerous weariness. She was losing control. Fight it! Don’t give in! Bracing her back against the boulder, she faced the tall stranger.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” Her voice quavered. “Stay back.”

What next? It was hard to think. Her brain was in turmoil. She forced words through her lips. “Put your hands over your head.”

He followed her instructions. The precious, beautiful, delicious chocolate was within her grasp, but she couldn’t move. She stared at the center of Liam’s chest. And she remembered….

A burst of gunfire. It crashed and rattled inside her head. She saw blood that wasn’t her own. A man had been shot, fatally wounded. The thick, red blood spread across his chest as he staggered toward her.

Rain blinked rapidly, trying to clear this unwanted vision from her head. For an instant, she had seen the past with crystal clarity. And it terrified her.

She glanced down at the gun in her trembling hand, and she feared the worst. Had she fired the fatal bullet? Was she a murderer? In an awful yet logical way, it made sense. She hadn’t hesitated to shoot at Liam. Had someone else threatened her?

Oh God, what if she was on the run because she’d killed another human being? What if the hunters who were after her were lawmen?

Rain needed to find out more, to unlock her memories. Right now, Liam was her only source of information.

“The names,” she said. “Tell me again. What are the names of those missing people?”

“Kate Carradine,” he said. “Wayne Silverman.”

Had she killed Wayne Silverman? Though she couldn’t visualize his face, there was no doubt in her mind that he had died. His spirit had departed from this earth. “What else do you know?”

“Wayne was your boyfriend.” Liam’s hands were still raised above his head. “Together, you left Denver and went to the mountains for a camping trip. There were several forest fires that weekend. When you didn’t return on Monday morning, search parties started looking.”

“A fire.” When she had first come to this meadow, her clothing had smelled of smoke. It was becoming inescapably clear that she was, in fact, Kate Carradine.

“Let me help you,” Liam offered. “I’ll take you home where you’ll be safe.”

“Home?” But this forest was her home. If she returned to Denver, she would be walking into lethal peril. But how could that be? She’d be returning to her family. Her mother, Elizabeth. Her stepfather and stepbrother. Returning to their welcoming embrace gave her no comfort.

“Listen, Kate—”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not who you think I am.”

Liam raised his eyebrows. “You’re Kate Carradine.”

“No.” She could take care of herself as long as she stayed here. This was her sanctuary. Loudly, she proclaimed, “My name is Rain. I live here. And I’m not leaving. Not ever.”

In two measured steps, she approached the candy bar. Her intention was to retrieve her chocolate and take it back to her cave where she could eat it slowly and make the flavor last for days. But when she touched the smooth wrapper, her self-discipline faded.

One bite wouldn’t hurt. Still holding her Glock, she tore open the wrapper with her teeth. The smell was heavenly. Her taste buds danced with giddy anticipation. She bit through the chocolate and caramel. A warm memory of her father’s face flashed across her mind, easing her fear. Candy bars had only good, comforting associations for her.

Another taste. Chocolate smeared across her chapped lips. She licked it off and nibbled again.

When she looked up, she saw Liam watching her. He was grinning, and before she could stop herself, she returned his smile.

Just as quickly, she scowled. It was still too soon to trust him. “This isn’t funny, you know. I’ve been out here for twenty-eight days.”

“I’m not laughing.” He knitted his fingers together and rested his hands on top of his head. “I like to see a woman who enjoys her food.”

She took another small bite, savoring the texture. The sugar rushed through her system, boosting her energy, giving her a false sense of well-being. “All right, Liam. What kind of work do you do when you’re not flying search and rescue for CCC?”

“I’m a charter pilot based out of Grand Lake.”

“Why did you come to this spot?”

“A couple of days ago, I took aerial photos of your meadow. When the pictures came back, I noticed a parka on the ground.”

She nodded. He was telling the truth. Her parka had gotten wet and she’d laid it out in the grasses to dry. “So you came back to look around.”

“That’s right,” he said. “Now, I have a question for you. Why do you want to stay here?”

“I want to be left alone.”

“Something’s got you scared,” he said.

His perceptiveness surprised her. Her eyes narrowed as she met his gaze. “Why do you think I’m afraid?”

Steadily and calmly, he said, “You’re hiding from something. Why?”

This was more than enough sharing of information. Even if Liam wasn’t one of the hunters, she wanted him gone. Rain had no intention of leaving these mountains.

She’d nibbled the candy bar down to a stub, which she held out toward him. “The rest is yours.”

As he approached, she realized her mistake in inviting him closer. Before she could pull the candy bar back, Liam took it from her. And he kept on coming.

She scrambled backward until she was trapped between the boulder and this tall, muscular man. He must be nuts to come at her like this. Didn’t he see the Glock? The barrel was only inches away from his belly. If she pulled the trigger—

He grasped her wrist and bent her elbow. The bore of the gun pointed toward the sky. His body pressed against hers. She could feel his hard strength and the heat that emanated from him. This was her first human contact in weeks, and the sensation startled her. She’d forgotten what it was like to be touched.

His nearness took her breath away. His fingers locked firmly around her forearm, and his gaze imprisoned hers.

“I could disarm you.” He wasn’t bragging, merely stating a fact.

Her lips pressed tightly together. There was no point in objecting. Liam was capable of physically overpowering her.

“However…” His voice was deep and resonant and— God help her!—sexy. “I’m not interested in taking your gun away.”

Up close, his hazel eyes were flecked with gold and deep, forest green. He stared with an unblinking intensity that verified her earlier impression: this was a stubborn man. She asked, “What do you want from me?”

“The truth,” he said. “You could have returned to civilization if you wanted. You seem to be healthy enough to hike out. But you stayed here, and I want to know why.”

Rain swallowed hard. “I don’t have a simple explanation.”

“We’ve got time to talk,” he said. “Without having you wave a gun in my face.”

“Fair enough.”

When he stepped back and released her, the gun lowered to her side. The fact that he had released her, rather than press his advantage, counted for a great deal. Though still wary, she had to believe that he meant her no harm.

“Come with me.” Rain circled around the boulders and led him into her little camp. He was the first person to see her wilderness home.

“Very nice,” he said.

She was proud of what she’d done here. The gravelled area in front of her cave was neatly groomed. This was her dining room and kitchen. She’d cleared away the foliage and built her fire pit against the rocks. Using stones and a sturdy pine branch with the bark whittled away, she’d made a spit across the fire. Though she hadn’t managed to catch any fresh meat to cook on her spit, she used the branch to hang her only cooking pot above the flames. The water in the pot churned at a slow, erratic boil.

She offered, “Would you like some tea?”

“Sure.”

Luckily, she had two cups—one of which she used for brushing her teeth by the creek. She poured water into the toothbrush cup to rinse it out.

“What’s that?” he asked. “The thing you’re using to hold your water?”

“It’s a sock.”

“I can see that. Why isn’t the water draining through it?”

“Because it’s lined with a condom.”

“Ah.” A sick expression pulled down the corners of his mouth. “And where did you find condoms?”

“In my backpack.” She pointed to three other condom-socks hanging from tree branches. “Handy little things. They hold about a quart of water each. Does that seem excessive to you?”

“Not if they’re elephant condoms.”

She dipped boiling water from the pot into each cup and added her own special mixture of sage, sorrel bark and mint. “We let it steep. Then, it’s tea.”

He asked, “Is this all the food you’ve had to eat?”

“I had seven MREs. Those lasted for about two weeks.”

“Meals, Ready-to-Eat. Like in the Army.” Liam leaned against a boulder beside the fire. “So you packed for a week’s worth of camping.”

“I had all the basics.”

Whether or not she’d packed these items herself was an unanswered question. Surreptitiously, she glanced toward the expedition-sized backpack that leaned against the inner wall of her cave. In addition to the camping gear, the bottom of the backpack had been lined with neatly wrapped bundles of hundred-dollar bills. Almost fifty thousand in cash. There had also been a pouch containing jewelry—diamonds and gold.

Rain had tried and tried to come up with reasonable explanations for why she might be carrying money and gems on a camping trip. Unfortunately, she kept coming back to the same conclusion: this loot was stolen. Which made her a thief. If she added that fact to the revelation that she was also possibly a murderer…

“What else was in your pack?” he asked.

No way would she tell him about the treasure. “A hunting knife. Fishing kit. Sleeping bag. That cooking pot. And first aid supplies, thank goodness.”

“Were you injured?”

She rolled up the tattered sleeve of her silk blouse and the T-shirt she wore on top of it. A wide, red scar crossed the middle of her upper arm. “This was bad at first, but I used antiseptic from the first aid kit. And I made a poultice from valerian leaves and roots to draw out the infection. I’m not sure if that was the right herb, but it seemed to help.”

“Was that your only wound?”

She reached up and rubbed her hand through her spiky hair. “I had a bump on my head. No big deal.”

Liam knew that head injuries could be tricky. If she’d had a concussion, it might explain her strange behavior. “You should see a doctor.”

“I’m already healed,” she said blithely. “No infections.”

“Kate, you have to go back,” he said gently. “Sooner or later, you need to let your family know you’re all right. Your mother’s worried.”

“When you leave, you can tell her that I’m okay.”

“She wants you to come home. She’s the one who convinced CCC to continue the search.”

An expression of concern crossed her face, and her gaze turned inward, as though she were reviewing her options. Then, she shook her head. “No,” she said simply. “This is my home. I’m safe here.”

“Safe from what?” he asked. “Why do you think you’re in danger?”

“I just know.”

She handed him a cup of fragrant mint tea and returned to the fire. She wasn’t insane. Her little hideout was orderly and efficient. Her ability to survive required an intelligent application of concentration and knowledge.

But she had completely disowned her prior existence; she refused to be Kate Carradine. “Is somebody after you? Who is it?”

She whipped around to face him. Her fists planted on her hips. Her voice was a challenge. “I can’t remember.”

That didn’t make a whole lot of sense. If she’d been scared enough to stay in hiding for nearly a month, she must know why. “Are you saying that you can’t remember their names?”

She met his gaze. “I can’t remember anything. When I first came here, my memory was completely gone. The slate was wiped clean.”

Son of a bitch! She had amnesia.

Chapter Three

As Liam studied the defiant woman who stood before him, he realized that handling Kate Carradine would require a delicate touch. He couldn’t fling her over his shoulder and haul her out of the forest. He needed to overcome her resistance and convince her to cooperate. Not an easy proposition.

When he’d worked for the Denver district attorney, he’d honed his skills in interrogation, and he was pretty damn good at knowing when someone was telling the truth. But how could he deal with amnesia? He wasn’t a psychologist. “You don’t remember anything?”

“Nothing about the immediate past.” She squared her thin shoulders and gave a diffident shrug. “It’s not really important.”

“The hell it isn’t.”

“If I can’t remember, what difference does it make?”

“Let’s start with the obvious fact that Wayne Silverman is still missing. Your memory might be able to explain what happened to him.”

“I can’t tell you.” Her gaze flickered, but she didn’t look away. “I’m sorry that my disappearance triggered a search-and-rescue effort. And I’m sorry that I caused people to worry. But I didn’t have a choice. I’m in danger.”

“From a person or persons unknown.”

“That’s right,” she said.

He sensed that her amnesia masked darker, more sinister events. Something traumatic had happened to her—something too terrible to remember.

If he hoped to uncover the truth, he needed to keep her talking. “Fill me in on what you do remember. You came here twenty-eight days ago. Wounded.”

“I wasn’t exactly here,” she said. “It took me a while to find this perfect little cave.”

“But you don’t remember where you came from.”

“I was on the run.”

“But you didn’t plan to go into hiding,” he said. “You only had enough food for a week.”

“That’s when the MREs ran out,” she said.

“So you lived off the land,” he said. “How did you know which plants were edible?”

“It’s not difficult. There are obvious ones to stay away from. Vetch. Locoweed. And the state flower, the columbine.” As she talked, she returned to her food-preparation tasks, lifting a cover of leaves from an expertly filleted trout and placing the fish in the boiling water to poach. “There are ways to see if a plant is poisonous.”

“Like what?”

“Cut off a little piece and put it between your teeth and your gums. If it starts to sting or cause some other reaction, spit it out.”

Her story intrigued him. He was familiar with mountain-survival techniques but had never known anybody who actually lived off the land. “How did you learn all this?”

“My dad,” she said. “He used to take me backpacking and we’d forage for dinner.”

“Makes sense. Your father was the head of RMS, Rocky Mountain Suppliers.” He hadn’t taken that piece of her background into account. “He specialized in outdoor equipment.”

“I remember.” The minute she mentioned her father, her attitude brightened. “When we went camping, we were always testing some kind of gear. Dad used to say he was the luckiest man in the world because camping was a business trip for him. He loved the mountains.”

“Eric Carradine,” Liam said. “And you’re his daughter, Kate.”

“Rain,” she said. “Call me Rain.”

“Okay. It’s Rain.” He decided to humor her. So what if she wanted to call herself Rain? Or Moon? Or Ruby-Throated Hummingbird? After all these days in the wild and a dose of amnesia, some delusional thinking was to be expected.

Besides, her Rain persona appealed to him. He respected and appreciated her gutsy stamina. In her identity as Kate Carradine, he expected her to be a socialite, a pampered society woman who arranged flower bouquets rather than eating them for dinner.

“There’s plenty of food out here,” she said. “Look at all these trees. Inside the new branches is a soft, woody part that’s edible. If you roast pinecones in the fire, then break them open, these little nuts fall out.”

“Sounds like a lot of effort.”

“Oh, it is,” she said. “I spend most of the daylight hours foraging. And I have to hike all over the place to do it because I don’t want to completely wipe out the ecosystem in front of my cave.”

“Because it’s bad for the environment?”

“And I didn’t want anybody to find me.” She poked at the fish in her cooking pot. “Why don’t you sit down and relax?”

Though he had the feeling that he was losing focus on his goal of getting her away from this place, Liam allowed himself to be seduced. He sat on a flat rock at the opposite side of the fire pit and watched as she efficiently arranged leaves and stems on a woven plate made from twigs.

“You made those plates,” he said.

“When I figured out how easy it was to weave young branches and reeds, I made a bunch of things. It gave me something to do at night, when I couldn’t forage.”

Given enough time out here, he suspected she might really create a home for herself. Her little space was swept clean, and she’d placed dried flowers among the rocks for decoration. He pointed to a tall woven vase just inside her cave. “What’s that?”

“My calendar.” She brought the woven vessel closer so he could see inside. “There’s one pebble for every day I’ve been here. I try to choose a rock that looks like the day.”

He reached inside and ran his fingers through the stones. “I see several black ones.”

“Dark days.” Hunkered down opposite him, she plucked out a caramel-colored stone. “This is today. It reminded me of a tiger, and that seemed appropriate because today I caught a fish. I was a huntress.”

“And you held me at bay,” he said.

“Yeah.” She gave a self-deprecating wink. “I’m really fearsome, huh?”

“I wouldn’t use that word to describe you.”

“No? What word would you use?”

“Resourceful,” he said. “Smart.”

She cocked her head to one side and grinned. “Keep going.”

When she wasn’t holding a gun on him, she had a vivid charm and enthusiasm. “Pretty.”

She rolled her eyes. “Now you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not,” he said. “You look good to me.”

“Apparently,” she drawled, “you don’t get out much.”

But he wasn’t lying. He thought she had a great, expressive smile. And he liked the healthy tan color of her skin that contrasted with her cornflower-blue eyes. Even the weird hairdo worked for him. With the dark roots, and blond on top, she reminded him of some kind of exotic, tufted bird.

She passed him a plate with a miniscule shred of trout and weedy leaves. He took a taste. The flavor of the roughage was a cross between grazing and gnawing on a tree limb, but it’d be ungrateful not to eat the food she’d gone to such trouble to gather and prepare.

Rain attacked her plate with gusto. Though she wasn’t transported into ecstasy, like when she’d eaten the candy, she took regular bites and chewed thoroughly.

She glanced at his plate and raised an eyebrow. “Not hungry?”