River Arrow (New Guardsmen Book 2)

River Arrow

New Guardsmen: Two

ELLA DRAKE

Jared Covington is about to veer off course. He’s survived the end of known civilization by staying focused. His crew, his community, and his own life demand he take no chances. Working the Mississippi River carries enough risk, but it pays to avoid trouble where he can, including never getting involved with the ragtag communities on his trade route. He doesn’t count on Mari and how involved he wants to get.

Mari is a survivor. An attacking drifter gang has captured her entire village and she’s the only one who can stop them. If she’s going to die saving her people, least she can do is finally get her hands on Jared, the man she’s dreamed of since she first set eyes on him. When her entire life is upside down may not be the best time to get him in her bed, but she’s not taking chances.

Mari knows Jared is her lucky break. She just has to convince him of that. Later. For now, their sizzling attraction is put on hold. Because, unless they free the village from the drifters, there is no future.

New Guardsmen series
:

Desert Blade

River Arrow

Badland’s Edge

What was left of Memphis, Tennessee disappeared behind Jared Covington as he poled his boat through the water. The burned-out building shells rising above dead vines made his skin crawl, but they were gone now, left behind with a bend in the river. The keelboat coasted toward the east bank and under the overhang of a tree—a scarce tree, enormous and tall but scraggly and offering little shade. Sometimes the old cities felt haunted and it chipped at his energy until he wondered why he did this run.

“Pull it over,” Jared muttered.

Even though his crew wasn’t there to hear the usual command, he made the order. His voice was scratchy, tired. He’d left as soon as the sun had risen.

It never failed. His boatsmen would spend a few days in Memphis City, eager to connect with another group of survivors after weeks of silence, but the relief didn’t last. He’d decided to avoid it entirely this year and while his crew stayed behind, he’d come to his favorite fishing spot on the Mississippi. A few days of relaxation and then he’d round them up, head back home.

His body remained tight, unable to comply with the idea of relaxing, even in this spot that usually let him breathe a little easier.

Usually the east side of the Mississippi River held little vegetation, but here, nature had managed a break in the desolation. This little oasis with a tree and some tall grasses was a sign of hope, a sign the past could be overcome. Decades ago, to stave off world starvation, scientists had created the edible tasho vine. It invaded everything. Then it got worse. The pesticides to kill the vine damaged too much. Mass starvation, rioting, and environmental devastation had nearly killed everything.

“This is a damn sight better than Memphis City.”

Apparently, now he spoke to the fish. He planned on getting to know this particular species of fish real good before the day was through, but maybe talking to them was going a little overboard. With a sharp tug, he brought up a rope hanging over the side of the boat and opened the bottle on the end. The chilly water slid down his parched throat and he stretched his overworked muscles.

Scanning the bank for trouble of the human kind, he chewed on a piece of jerky.

Maybe, just maybe, this should be his last trip.

Chuckling, he shook his head. He couldn’t resist making these runs even if he couldn’t sleep while on them, too senses too keyed, too alert for the entire season. Month after month of this. He’d go home, determined to be done. Then he’d winter at Fort Leavenworth with his family—his mom, brother, and his godparents. By the time spring came, he’d be so antsy he couldn’t wait to leave. If he thought about it too much, he might worry what that said about him. So he refused to think on it.

With a roll of his shoulders, Jared reached for a fishing line secured to the side of the cabin. A flicker of movement tensed his shoulders as if the moment of relaxation had never been.

A small splash sounded to the right. Crouching, he grabbed a barge pole and settled into a defensive position.

Sweat trickled down Jared’s temple and caught in the scruff on his cheek. A nearly irresistible urge to wipe his face had his skin itching as the sun crawled over his back. The rush of the river cut out all other noise but he listened, waited, and used all the patience his godfather Derek had taught him.

A flicker of movement broke the surface and he narrowed his gaze. About ten feet off the bow, a body rolled in the water.

“Steady,” he ordered the boat, as if he could bend it to his will.

Jared firmed his grip on the pole. If a drifter gang were nearby, on the hunt for whoever was drowning before his eyes, they’d trample their way in like a pack of desert wolves. There was no sign of anyone else, at least for now. He steered the boat toward the body. With a move long practiced by moving freight, he gripped the tattered shirt and hoisted the dead weight.

“Damn it to hell.”

His shoulders burned and he couldn’t keep his hold. Unable to be gentle, he dropped the body with a thud. A groan from the lump of fabric finally got his blood pumping. Not a corpse, then. Kneeling, he turned the water-logged person to the side and pounded them on the back.

It was a woman. Water gushed from her mouth and she rolled to a crouch as she coughed water. He sat back on his heels and gave her room.

Small compared to him, she had muscular arms, which she’d earned by using that bow she still held in a death grip. Probably also why she’d cut off the sleeves of the canvas shirt so that she’d have mobility to use her weapon. Her feet were bare and gave her a strange vulnerability. Her brown camos frayed into a few threadbare spots on her thighs. Twenty years after the fall of the United States and most military gear had aged considerably.

“Name?” His gruff question seemed to jolt her body.

Braced on the deck, she froze and clenched her fists—one still around that bow. Tilting her head to the side, she glanced at him with large brown eyes.

It hit him like the sun had come out in a blinding rush from behind the clouds. He took a deep, unsteady breath and crossed his arms over his chest. Squinting at him, she carefully edged away and knelt near the side of the deck. Her braided hair lay over her shoulder like shiny black ropes. She shuddered over and over. Probably more from shock and the exertion of nearly drowning than any fear. Her full mouth flattened in a line and she shook her head.

She looked different, water logged and out of her element.

“Tsk. Don’t recognize me from the last time you robbed us blind on a trade?” Her water-scratched voice and her slight southern accent made him hard as a fucking rock.

Hooking a thumb in his waistband, he eased the tight fit of his pants over his unruly cock and glared at the woman responsible. “Mari. How the hell did you get drowned in the river?”

Her brows slanted in a scowl, but her dark skin didn’t turn red in anger the way his did. As it was, his bare chest had probably gone pink. Which pissed him off even more, but his discomfort apparently only calmed her. She let out a long breath and her expression smoothed out. With the way she’d recovered so fast, she must not have been in the water too long.

“You need to take me to the village. Need to get home.”

“The hell I will.” He squared his shoulders and repositioned the barge pole.

“You have to.”

With a scowl, he found a good position and tensed, ready to push them from shore. “I don’t take passengers. You can just get off the boat and be on your way.”

“I didn’t nearly drown for no reason...”

Frustration rose hot and furious. “You were waiting on me. That’s what you were doing. You knew I’d come this way and you…”

“And I what?” She tilted her head, her puzzled expression and innocence of any malicious thought clear on her beautiful face. “No, man. I didn’t know you were anywhere near here.”

She crouched and stared out over the water. “I ran, just to let them think I’d turn tail before I doubled back. But I got turned around, trying to get out of sight, and got tangled in the water with all these clothes on. Swallowed too much river. Did you see anybody? They’re still out there somewhere.”

“Who?” The fury banked for a moment, he searched the scrub as far as he could see along the eastern shore. The bank was bare. Dirt and rocks covered the ground for a few feet. After that, clumps of brush or a tenacious tree here and there. Nobody was out there. There weren’t many places to hide.

“They’re back in the village,” Mari muttered. “I tried to lead them away from the compound. They managed to slice my thigh but I outran them. That’s why I got dumb and swallowed too much water.”

“You’re still standing.” He didn’t look at her damn thigh but now he could smell the iron taint of her blood on the air. She better be able to walk her pretty ass right off his boat. He might be antsy in the spring to get on the river, but come end of the season, he itched to get home and tried to tell himself it wasn’t to be sure everyone was still there. Alive.

A spitting cough cut through the air followed by a loud crack.

Gunfire.

Jared hit the deck and pole in one hand, the other on her arm, yanked Mari down. With a roll, he covered her body and shoved off from the bank. The boat jerked and spun into the current. Shots whizzed in the air. Wood splintered beside him. The deck pitched. Jared flattened himself over a scrabbling Mari. “Stop moving!”

“Get off me.” She bucked up and he shoved her back down.

“You’re going to get us both killed. Nobody’s directing this thing.”

The boat careened in the water as it picked up speed. The hull scraped on the bottom. The deck canted and they slid. Jared grabbed a rope and held on, keeping them from sliding into the river. He gripped the rope tighter. The boat righted with a loud splash and Jared relaxed his burning muscles.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered. He’d spent the whole day fighting the current to head north. In only a few minutes they’d be miles away, erasing the day’s hard work.

He blew out a breath and his next lungful of air froze him in place. His face was buried in Mari’s hair. It smelled clean, underneath a layer of river mud. Disgusted that he lingered while sniffing someone’s hair, he barked a laugh and rolled off her. Struggling to his feet, he went with the roll of the boat to gain his balance.

Lunging after the pole that rested precariously near the edge, Jared grabbed it, ran to the back of the boat, and jammed it in the water.

In seconds, his shoulders ached and his chest grew tight. Mari limped to him. She’d grabbed another oar and started to copy Jared’s actions.

“No. Drop that anchor. Over there.”

Mari scrambled to the lever and shoved it back. The chain rattled over the wood deck. The boat lurched as it caught in the river bed. Jared’s blood pumped, his chest heaved, and his entire body vibrated, but he didn’t have time to think, to recover. Their attackers were still out there. With no other option, he knelt next to his emergency stash of ethanol. Trouble came in all forms on the river. Whether it was weather or murderous gangs, sometimes he needed the speed of an engine.

He hesitated. Ethanol was hard to come by while on the river. At home, in Fort Leavenworth, they’d learned to distill it from sunchokes. They couldn’t waste it, but if the season was good, they didn’t have to ration too much, either. It didn’t matter how much they had in reserve, though. He couldn’t bring barrels and barrels of it with him on the boat. There just wasn’t enough room. He had enough to fill the engine twice. Was this a dire enough situation to warrant using the precious fuel? He glanced at Mari. She’d fallen to the deck and clutched her leg. A long cut through her cargo pants exposed a bloody, deep gash that ran from her knee to her hip.

“Yeah. Gotta burn the fuel,” he muttered.

“What?” Mari stared at him with a glazed expression. She was going down. In a hurry.

“Don’t worry.”

Mari nodded, her eyes went dazed, non-seeing, and she slumped back onto one of the crates lashed to the back of the boat.

His brows rose. She’d trusted him enough to let herself pass out. From what he knew of Mari, she’d have held on to consciousness out of pure stubbornness if she had to. There was a reason anyone from the river communities could trust him. He kept to himself, traded fairly, and he did what he had to do. Like right now, getting this boat moving.

The tank filled and ran with a purr. Jared ground his teeth and emptied his mind. He rolled the anchor up and followed his gut. After seven years on the river, he knew where to go to get rid of his unwanted passenger. Getting rid of her was the best idea. He didn’t get involved. He didn’t fight other people’s fights.

With a grunt, he slammed his fist into the back of the deck house. The pain in his hand relieved some of the pressure building behind his eyes.

“Fuck.” This trip had turned to utter shit.

If he interfered, if he helped Mari’s village, he ran the risk of getting himself hurt or killed. He owed it to everyone he traded with to keep that from happening. People depended on him. His family depended on him. His crew expected him to bring the boat back and take them back to Leavenworth.

He had to make it home.