Love Inspired Suspense December 2013 Bundle: Christmas Cover-Up\Force of Nature\Yuletide Jeopardy\Wilderness Peril (68 page)

ELEVEN

“S
hay!” Rick shoved Kemp out of the way and stepped into the small sparsely furnished living room. “Where is she?” He ground out the words.

“Rick?” Shay's voice sounded shaky. If Kemp so much as touched her, Rick was going to make him pay.

Ignoring the shouts behind him and the risk of being shot to death, he raced across the small space and down a short hallway. “Where are you?”

“In here.” She appeared in a doorjamb, her face ashen and her hair askew. When she saw him, her mouth fell open and she rushed to him.

Relief swept over him when he didn't see any blood. But where had it come from?

He held her close, feeling her body tremble. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Go find him!” From somewhere behind him, Kemp shouted orders at the men he held marginal control over.

Find who? They were running out of time in more ways than one. He could sense Kemp's fragile command slipping away.

The way Shay shook against him, he thought she might be sobbing. Rick had never been good at comforting anyone, but he had to try. He lifted his hand, hesitating before brushing it down her back. “Shh. It's going to be okay.”

He heard Kemp's breathing the moment he came up behind him. Rick turned his face to the side, sending a lethal glare Kemp's way. “What happened?”

Kemp appeared almost as shaken as Shay and shook his head. He went into the bathroom. Rick heard the water running. Probably washing the blood from his hands.

Shay pulled away from Rick and stood on her toes to whisper in his ear. “Get me out of here.” Anguish choked her hushed words. “Get us out.”

Rick tugged her close and squeezed his eyes shut. “Soon,” he whispered back.

Shay stepped away and wiped her eyes.

“Are you hurt?”

She shook her head.

Kemp stepped from the bathroom, wiped his hands on a towel and looked at Rick.

“Someone want to tell me what happened?” It hit Rick that he was alone in this house with Kemp, who wasn't holding a weapon. The guy had told his goons to go after someone. Someone who wasn't Rick. He could overpower him here and now.

But he still didn't know where Aiden was or how to get out of the camp safely. Escape would have to wait for now.

“A man came through the window,” Shay said. “Into the room where Kemp put me. I screamed and then Kemp came through the door and fought the man. Stabbed him.”

“He got away,” Kemp said. “But he won't get far.”

“This is exactly what I was afraid of.” Rick left the confined space of the hallway and paced the living room.

Kemp followed. “For a second I thought it was you, breaking her out. Trying to escape.”

“So it was one of
your
men? Someone you're ordering around?” Rick didn't need to ask why the man came for Shay. These unscrupulous men had been here for weeks without female companionship, it would seem.

“Yes.” Kemp made his way to the kitchen. Rick's gun rested on the counter. Kemp quickly pressed his hand over it and chambered a round, sweat beading his brow. “At this rate, there won't be anyone left to work the mine. Add to that, someone is going to ask why I tried to kill one of my own men while protecting you. I don't know how much longer I can keep you alive. You need to fix the plane. I need to find the gold. Timing is going to be tricky.”

He swiped the sweat away.

Shay moved to stand next to Rick. He swept her into his arms and held her close as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She didn't resist. Shay, the woman he'd considered strong and tough enough to walk the path she'd chosen,
needed
him right now. She was beyond vulnerable in this mining camp, and his own need to protect her was quickly growing into a driving force. If he it let it, it could drive him to make mistakes; it could drown out all reason. And in the end, that was no protection at all.

For a fleeting moment he wished he could have something with her once they were home again. But he couldn't spare the time to think about the future. The present needed all of his concentration.

“You don't need us. Let Shay fix the plane now and then let us go. Let my brother go before more people get hurt.”

“I've lost two able bodies in a few hours. You're going to work and you'd better hope you can prove you have value. What can you do?”

Though he hated letting go, Rick released Shay. He strode to the counter and pressed his hands against it, reining in what he really wanted to do and say to this man. “You can't seriously think those henchmen are going to let me work alongside them. In fact, I'm thinking you might see an uprising before the day's out. They're getting restless.”

“Don't you think I know that?” Kemp was getting restless, too.

Losing control. He likely wouldn't outlast, maybe wouldn't even outlive, this situation of his own creation.

“Why do they need you anyway?” Risk asked, pressing his point. “They can just take the gold for themselves once they find it.”

Pouring on the doubt could destabilize the situation further. That would make things more dangerous, sure, but it could give them a chance to get away if the men were focused on other things.

“I'm the only experienced miner here. They have a job to do and that's to follow my orders. In the end, they might answer to someone else, but they've been instructed to obey each and every one of my orders. I could tell them to sit. Fetch. Roll over. And they'd obey like a good German shepherd. I could tell them to kill you or not. It's my call. So you'd better shut your mouth before I shut it for you.”

Good. Rick was getting to him. Kemp was bluffing now. He'd already admitted that he was losing his persuasive power over the men where Rick, Shay and Aiden were concerned. “The only thing we can do is get in the way. Just let us go.” Voicing his thoughts was a risk—if Kemp agreed that they'd only get in the way, then he might choose to eliminate them himself—but he didn't think Kemp was ready to dispose of them yet.

“Okay. Walk on out of here. See how far you get. I look forward to the show. You can't get fifty yards without these men gunning you down. They'd track you down before you could get a safe distance. But you already know that. You already tried to get away, before you even knew you were being stalked.”

Rick got a better sense of just how trapped Kemp was himself. That Kemp was admitting this to them wasn't a good sign.

Kemp looked at Shay now, his expression hard. “The only way out is the small four-seat passenger plane sitting on the airstrip. We could all fly that out—the four of us. But I have to find the gold first, or else I'll be running forever. You fix the plane—” he turned to glare at Rick “—and you help me get to the gold, and you'll get to walk away. That's the only chance you have of getting out of here alive.”

He started fixing a pot of coffee. The man was unbelievable, his emotions as unpredictable as the circumstances.

“Tell me where my brother is. Let me see him.” Rick was done with the games.

Kemp frowned and gave a subtle nod. “Not until it's time to leave.”

If the man was using Aiden to keep Rick here, then maybe he doubted his own words about the plane being the only escape. Unfortunately, Rick was beginning to believe that his brother was already dead.

How was he going to keep Shay alive?

* * *

Someone knocked on the door. Weapon in hand, Kemp left the coffeepot brewing to answer it.

Shay remained by Rick's side, hoping he couldn't tell how shaky she still was. The man who'd gained access through the bedroom window with plans to assault her had held her down, breathing in her face and informing her to keep completely quiet or he'd slice her into pieces. This he said while pointing a knife at her throat.

At first she wasn't able to breathe, much less scream or even respond to him. What a complete failure she was—she was unable to move under the weight of fear and panic. Under the weight of the sturdy man.

Then he was suddenly thrown from her as Kemp attacked with more strength, more rage, than she'd thought him capable of. When her assailant went for the gun he'd tucked in his waistband, Kemp stabbed him. All Shay saw was blood when Kemp had pulled the knife away.

She'd screamed.

Oddly enough, it almost seemed as if the guy fled through the window because of her scream rather than because of facing off with Kemp. What would happen to him now?

When Kemp opened the door, Rick turned Shay to face him. He gently cupped her face with his palms.

“Are you okay?” The tenderness in his touch, in his eyes, surprised her.

She never wanted to need anyone, but hearing that simple question and seeing the concern in his expression, she knew she'd never needed anything more in her life than for him to stay by her side. And that left her stunned.

How could she need him so much?

It didn't matter. She couldn't let herself need him.

If they weren't here now and in this situation, he would never talk to her like this. Touch her in such a tender way. It was all wrong. Messed up. And she couldn't let herself feel anything for him. Couldn't let her heart go through the hurt.

In response to his question, she nodded, unable to smile.

“Of course you're not. I'm sorry, Shay. Sorry about all of this.” He let his hands fall away from her face and wrapped a finger around a tendril of her short hair.

What was going through his mind?

“It was my idea to go with him. I didn't want you to get hurt over me,” she said. “You don't need to be sorry. So stop blaming yourself.” She edged away.

Kemp let one of the men inside and walked back to Shay. “We have a problem with the backhoe and these clowns can't seem to fix it,” he said.

She frowned. Why was he looking at her?

“What's this got to do with us?” Rick asked.

“Time to work.” Kemp rounded the counter and scraped a mug from the cabinet to pour some coffee. He grabbed three more. “Shay's a mechanic.”

Shay thought he wanted to keep that part a secret so that the men wouldn't know that she could fix the broken plane. What was he playing at?

“You know how to fix things, right? People with that ability and training can fix just about anything with the right tools.”

“Are you telling me you don't already have a mechanic for all this equipment? How could you make it through the summer without one?”

“We had a mechanic,
had
being the operative word.” Kemp scratched the back of his head, appearing to measure his words. “He didn't get along with a couple of the guys. I think someone shot him.”

Shay gasped. “You
think?
”

“I heard the gunfire. But I didn't see the body. So I can't be sure
.
But he was also the medic. I hated to lose him.”

Rick stared at Kemp. Shay's knees buckled.

Dread fell on her like a cold Alaskan night. What happened if she couldn't fix whatever the problem was? Would the men decide she didn't have any value, just as Kemp said? Shay glanced at Rick, searching for his help, for a way out.

“What sort of problem are we talking about, exactly?” she asked.

“I don't know. You'll have to look at it yourself.”

Shay examined her shaky hands. How on earth would she work in this cold, hostile environment with deadly pressure bearing down on her? Trying to pull herself together, she thought back to when she first got the job working for Connor. She'd had to prove herself then. She'd had to shove aside her fear and doubts and be strong. Make those men believers. She'd just have to do it again. But this Alaska incident had shaken her to the core. Made her question who she was. What she wanted in life.

Made her see Rick a lot differently, too. She could almost understand why he held everything inside—how did anyone communicate a terrifying experience like this? Who could possibly understand what they'd been through?

“Tools.” She pulled her gaze from her calloused, rough mechanic's hands and looked at Kemp. A stocky man stood behind him. “What have you got?” she asked.

“They're in the toolshed. I'll show you.”

“And the manual.” Shay cocked her head. “Please tell me you have that.”

Kemp frowned. “I'll look for it. Get your coat. The weather's going to turn nasty in the next few days, maybe hours. There are two storm systems pushing through. We need to make hay.”

While Kemp ushered the man out the door, Shay headed for the bedroom, but Rick grabbed her arm. “What are you doing? You don't have to do this.”

“Don't I? I think Kemp made it clear that the men are having second thoughts about our presence here. This is my chance to show them I have value. Besides, I thought that was the plan. To work while we figure out our escape. To find the gold so we can leave.”

“I didn't mean for the pressure to fall on you. I don't want you to be the center...” Rick let his words trail off, his expression grim.

“Of attention,” Shay finished. “You don't want me to be in the middle of conflict if it turns out that I can't fix the backhoe and there isn't any more digging for gold. I understand the risk, but the way I see it, if I don't fix it, we're in trouble. And as far as I've seen, I'm the center of attention anyway.”

Creases ran across his forehead, between his brows. “Don't worry. I'll help you. I'll be right there by your side.”

For the first time in hours, Shay felt the hint of a smile spread over her lips. “If there's one thing I'm confident about, it's my own abilities as a mechanic. If this thing is fixable, if we don't have to order a part, then I can handle it. What I can't handle are the guns. I can't work if I think there's a chance someone will point one at me. That would make anyone a little nervous.” Even if they didn't have Shay's experiences, and those were beginning to rack up.