UNDERCOVER GUARDIAN

Days before Christmas, CIA agent Amber Starke is on the run with her murdered best friend’s special-needs son. And they’re next on his criminal father’s hit list. Amber failed her undercover mission to bring down her friend’s husband for his crimes, but she won’t fail to protect her friend’s son. Now that the killer knows she’s not just a nanny but an agent, she must rely on her childhood crush, Deputy Lance Goode. The handsome lawman was burned in love by his first wife, who was killed while evading the law. But he’ll do everything he can to help Amber, except offer his heart. Unlocking the secrets in Amber’s autistic charge is the key to their survival, but with the killer on their trail, one mistake could cost them their lives.

“You have no one to trust.”

Amber didn’t need him reminding her.

“Well, now you’ve got me.”

She turned a fierce gaze on him. “You are going to leave and forget you ever saw the boy or me.”

Lance stood his ground. “That’s not happening. You’re stuck with me.”

“I don’t think you understand. The last two people who got involved with me are dead. I can’t let that happen to you.”

“And yet you came home,” he said softly.

Only to get something she desperately needed.

She gave a humorless laugh. “Is there supposed to be some psychological meaning to that?”

“What do you think?”

She glanced toward the house. “Maybe there is. I’ve been in a lot of tight spots, but this time I might be in over my head.”

“Then let me help.”

She met his gaze. “You could be putting yourself in the kind of danger that people don’t live to talk about.”

He didn’t flinch. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed reading Lance and Amber’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it! I loved writing Lance a healing story. He’d been through so much pain with the betrayal and eventual death of his first wife that I knew it would take someone super special to make him give up on the idea that he should be alone the rest of his life. And I knew that someone special was Amber. Of course she had her own baggage to deal with, but who doesn’t? We all have our issues, but it’s how we handle them that determines what the future will hold for us. Lance was still somewhat bitter about his past and yet coming to an acceptance of it as well when the story began. He had found some contentment when Amber dropped into his world and rocked it to the foundation. But Lance stood strong and his true character came out and he behaved like the hero he was meant to be, not based on his own power, but because he relied on God to be his strength. I pray that if you find yourself in a tough situation where you are faced with choosing bitterness or letting God heal you, I pray you choose God.

And thank you for choosing to read this story. I pray God’s blessings over you.

LYNETTE EASON is a bestselling, award-winning author who makes her home in South Carolina with her husband and two teenage children. She enjoys traveling, spending time with her family and teaching at various writing conferences around the country. She is a member of RWA (Romance Writers of America) and ACFW (American Christian Fiction Writers). Lynette can often be found online interacting with her readers. You can find her at Facebook.com/lynette.eason and on Twitter, @lynetteeason.

Classified Christmas Mission

Lynette Eason

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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He will cover you with His feathers,

and under His wings you will find refuge;

His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

—Psalms 91:4

Dedicated to my family. I love you so much.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

ONE

CIA officer Amber Starke pressed the gas pedal and prayed that she wouldn’t slide over the cliff and into the ravine below. She was trying to escape killers, not plunge to her death because she got careless in bad weather. But she couldn’t see the road she needed. It was around here somewhere, but her childhood memory was vague, the exact location of the drive refusing to rise to the surface. Of course it was dark and her windshield resembled a field of white.

The sun continued to drop along with the temperature and the snow-stressed windshield wipers slowed as ice started to form on them. Amber knew it would be time to find a place to hole up and she had just the destination in mind.

If they could get there.

She’d been driving for the last seventeen hours stopping only for restroom breaks and food. She hadn’t planned to do so, but her young passenger hadn’t protested so she’d kept going. Yesterday it had been fifteen hours of the same. She didn’t know why Sam had been so agreeable in riding almost nonstop, but she just counted her blessings and kept going.

She glanced in the rearview mirror and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the sleeping child. The six-year-old who didn’t like change had just had his life turned upside down. With a dead mother and killer for a father, Amber knew she was the child’s only hope to live to see seven. She just prayed she could make that happen. But in order to do that, she had to figure out how to coax the secrets from his brain before his father caught up with them. Fortunately, Sam loved road trips. She had a feeling it was because there were very few distractions and plenty of game time on his phone to entertain him. She’d gotten him a special phone that was encrypted and untraceable. He didn’t know that, but it sure made her feel better.

Amber saw the sharp curve ahead and lightly pressed the brakes. The sedan slowed, but she could feel the ice building on the road.

Great. She remembered the harsh winters from her childhood and this looked to be one of the harshest. She wanted to kick herself for not checking the weather before heading east from California, but getting away from the people trying to kill them had taken precedence.

The wipers continued to slow, becoming heavy with snow and she knew she couldn’t keep going much longer. She had to get to the cabin. They’d be safe there, she was certain of it. In all the years she’d been with the agency she’d never been traced to her hometown of Wrangler’s Corner. But the deciding factor in making a beeline for home was that she had documents, passports and money hidden away that would allow her and Sam to disappear for good. She just had to get to it.

She slapped the wheel. The weather! She did not need this snow. Her brain kicked in, trying to come up with a plan should she need it.

She supposed as long as she could keep the car running and the heater on, they’d be all right but after a glance at the gas gauge, Amber saw that wasn’t going to be an option. She was pushing empty. She hadn’t liked the looks of the two men at the last gas station so had simply circled the pumps and kept going.

She might have enough to get to the cabin. She glanced behind her. Had she been followed? She didn’t think so, but the people after her and Sam were good. Scary good. Her fingers flexed on the wheel. Her heart still cried for her friend, Sam’s mother, who’d died two days ago, killed by Sam’s father before the cancer could claim her life. She’d died too soon. A violent senseless death that caused the rage to boil in Amber’s soul when the memories pressed in.

“Home. Number One Mom.”

“What?” She looked in the rearview mirror. Sam was awake.

His dark eyes wouldn’t meet hers. “Home.” He clasped his arms around his middle and began his familiar rocking back and forth. “Go home.”

She blinked against the tears that wanted to well. “Hey, Sam, I know you want to go home, but we can’t right now, okay?”

“Home! Number One Mom.”

With Sam’s autism, Amber wasn’t sure exactly what he understood and what he didn’t. He was verbal sometimes. Other times the day would pass without him uttering a word. And he loved numbers. He numbered everything and it seemed to appease him even if she didn’t have a clue what it was he was numbering. She knew Number One Mom referred to the woman who’d given him birth. Amber’s friend who now lay cold in her grave.

One thing she’d learned while watching Sam grow up these past four years and becoming his Number Two Mom as he called her, no two autistic kids were alike so it was best to treat them individually. And Sam was definitely unique with a quirky personality and a photographic memory.

With her right hand, she reached into her purse that rested on the passenger seat and pulled out a different device. It held only one game and it was his favorite. She’d been saving it for just this moment. She held it toward him. “Here. You want to play?”

“Yes. Favorite game Number one game.” He snatched it and powered it on.

“What do you say?”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

His head bent over the game, she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d known Sam since he was two. His mother, Nadia Pirhadi, had become her best friend after Amber had recruited her as an asset for the agency approximately four years ago. The woman had proven extremely capable. Forced into an arranged marriage by her family, she loathed her husband’s evil activities and, unbeknownst to him, had vowed to use her position to bring him down. It had taken her almost six years to seize the opportunity to contact the CIA, but she’d managed to do it—and that brought Amber into her life. A deadly mistake as far as Amber was now concerned.

Her jaw tightened as she slowly rounded the curve. She should have known better. She’d been undercover so long, she’d relaxed her guard. Gotten slack. Whatever. She stiffened and looked back to check on Sam. His attention was ensnared by the game and her mind went back to Nadia.

No, she hadn’t gotten slack. She’d been on edge for four years, though. She’d missed something. Something that should have told her Nadia’s husband was suspicious, that he suspected his wife was snooping, looking for information to pass on to the CIA. But Amber had missed it and as a result, she’d gotten her best friend killed.

Now it was up to her to protect the woman’s son and bring her killers to justice. Amber’s jaw tightened. Being on US soil would serve in her best interests. If this had happened two weeks ago while she’d been in Ibirizstan, she’d really be in trouble. But Nadia had insisted that Amber accompany her to the States. She wanted her friend there to be her support while she saw the oncologist. And Amber hadn’t been able to refuse. Nor had she wanted to.

She glanced in her rearview mirror and tightened her grip on the wheel. Headlights were coming up fast even on this growing-more-treacherous-by-the-minute back road. She ordered her pulse to slow. It could be nothing. Just someone who hadn’t expected the weather to get so bad. She looked at Sam once more. He hadn’t moved, his attention completely on the game in his hands.

She pressed the brake and the car slowed without a problem. The vehicle behind her slowed as well, the headlights still beaming in her back window. With her right hand, Amber lifted the edge of her sweatshirt and unclipped the strap that held her Glock 17 in the holster. She’d never carried a gun before the past week, but recent circumstances had dictated that she put her concealed weapons permit to use.

Another glance in the rearview mirror had her nerves tightening. The headlights were still there and closing in fast. She had a feeling that meant danger had found them. She curled her fingers around the weapon and pulled it from the holster.

* * *

Deputy Lance Goode figured he’d be at the Starke ranch in time to eat a home-cooked meal and catch the football game with brothers, Clay and Seth Starke. The Titans versus the Raiders. Should be a shutout, might even be a little boring, but he wanted to see it. Actually boring sounded good to him right now.

He’d made two arrests today. One for a DUI and the other for assault. Mark Jessup had broken his wife’s nose, and she’d pressed charges. For now. He grimaced. Domestic violence. Not usually a problem in the small town of Wrangler’s Corner, Tennessee, but this had been his third call to the home in the past three weeks and, as he suspected, the situation had escalated and the husband had finally done some real damage to his wife. So now the man could sit in a jail cell for a bit. At least until she dropped the charges. Which he knew she would.

In the meantime he planned to hang out with the Starkes. Lance knew they considered him a part of the family and, when he wasn’t on duty, Sunday nights were the highlight of his week. He’d just punched himself off the clock, showered and changed clothes at the station. The only thing remaining from his uniform was the Glock 17 strapped to his hip. Now he was ready for some good food and fun.

Fighting to see through the drifting snow, Lance kept the SUV steady, grateful for the chains on the tires. The forecast had called for cold and snow and the meteorologists had actually gotten it right for once. He wished they’d been wrong. His phone rang and he hit the button that would allow the call to come in through the speakers of his car. “Hello?”

“You headed over here?” Clay Starke asked.

“Should be there in about fifteen minutes.”

“It’s looking nasty out there. You have a bag in your car in case you need to stay the night?”

“Yep.” He often stayed in the guest room on Sunday nights. Not because he didn’t have anywhere else to stay, but because he was invited.

He caught sight of headlights just ahead on the sharp curve and slowed. “Let me go. I need to concentrate in this weather. You’re right, it’s getting nasty.”

“Supposed to get nastier. See you in a few.”

He hung up and focused on keeping the Ford Police Interceptor on his side of the road. The headlights came closer. Followed by a second set. Who was crazy enough to be out in this mess besides him?

He passed the first car and blinked. Even through the falling snow, he’d caught a glimpse of the driver when the wiper scraped the moisture from the windshield. Amber Starke? What was she doing here? Neither Clay nor Seth—and more importantly, Amber’s mother—had mentioned she’d planned to come home for a visit. Or had they just neglected to mention it to him?

A loud crack split the quiet mountainside and Lance flinched then stepped on the brakes. His Interceptor responded beautifully in spite of the ice and he pulled to a stop. Chills swept over him. He’d heard that sound before. Had heard it often out here in the Tennessee hills. A gunshot.

When he looked back he saw Amber’s SUV spin and then plunge over the side of the mountain. The vehicle behind her never stopped, just roared past.

For the third time that day, his adrenaline pumped into overdrive. He grabbed the radio just below the dash and called it in even as he executed a three-point turn in the middle of the freezing road.

“Lance?” Gretchen, the Wrangler’s Corner second shift dispatcher, answered.

“I’ve got a wreck on Jasper Road, Gretch. I need some backup. And probably an ambulance.”

“It’s going to take them a while to get there in this mess.”

“I know. I’ve got my first aid kit in the car. I’ll be doing what I can. Just tell them to hurry.” Trained as a first responder, he had the knowledge and the equipment to help. He just hoped it would be enough.

Gretchen put out the call and Lance pulled to a stop on the side of the road. His heart pounded as he climbed out, alert and looking to make sure the shooter wasn’t doubling back.

He didn’t see any sign of that so he headed to the edge to look over. He saw the tracks disappear under an overhang. He dropped to his knees and tried to see. Relief shot through him. Amber’s SUV had only gone down the slight slope, under the overhang, and wedged itself between two trees. He could see the back of it, just barely jutting out. Now he just had to find out if the bullet had done any bodily damage.

He looked at the space between him and her car. White space. It looked like snow, but could be ice. He ran to the back of his SUV and opened the back. He grabbed the hundred-foot-length rope that he always carried with him and hefted it over his shoulder with a grunt. He lugged it to the front of the Ford and tied one end to the grill then tossed the rest down to Amber’s car. It reached, but barely. It would have to do. With one more glance over his shoulder, he grasped hold of the rope and slipped and slid down the embankment to the car. Once he reached the back, he was able to duck under the overhang and squeeze himself between the rock and the driver’s door.

Amber lay against the wheel, eyes closed. Fear shot through. Please let her be all right. He reached for the door handle and pulled it open. It hit the rock, but there was enough room for her to get out if she wasn’t too badly hurt.

Amber lifted her head, and he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

TWO

Amber processed who stood before her and lowered her weapon with relief. “Lance?”

“Yeah. Are you all right? Someone shot at you!”

She scowled. “I’m fine.” She hadn’t been hurt when she’d placed her head on the steering wheel, she just wanted the person who approached the car to think she was. “And I sort of figured out that someone was shooting, thanks.” Sam! She released her seat belt and spun to see the boy staring at them, the game still clutched in his hand. He was safe. Unhurt, as well. His seat belt had done the job. His gaze flicked from her to Lance then back to her. Then down to the game he still clutched. He wasn’t even fazed—or curious about what had just happened.

“I’ve got backup on the way,” Lance said. “Let’s get you two out of the car and into mine. I’ve got the heater running.”

She snapped her head up. “Cancel that backup. We’re fine and don’t need help.”

“What?”

She hated repeating herself. Especially when she was in a hurry. “Tell them we’re fine and they don’t need to come.”

“I can’t do that. Someone shot at you. There will be an investigation.”

She shoved out of the vehicle. “There can’t be an investigation because no one can know I’m here, you understand? This never happened.” He gaped, then narrowed his eyes and tightened his jaw. She ran a shaky hand through her hair. Great. Now what? This was Lance, the most stubborn man in the town. She was going to have to read him in. But first—“Help me get Sam to the old Landers cabin and I’ll explain everything.”

“That cabin’s been empty since June. After Mrs. Landers died, her kids didn’t want anything to do with it.”

“I know. That’s the point.” She popped the trunk and pulled the two backpacks from it. She’d have to get the suitcase later.

“You can’t leave the scene of the accident.”

“I don’t have a choice. No one else is involved, no one is hurt. I can leave. Now you can be a friend and help me or stay here, but we’re leaving. And don’t tell anyone you saw me or Sam, got it?”

“Why?”

She wanted to stomp her foot and yell at him. Instead she took a deep breath. “Because whoever just shot at us and ran us off the road isn’t going to stop there. They’ll be back, and I want to be gone when they show back up.”

“Why is someone trying to kill you?”

Frustration pounded through her. “I don’t have time to explain right now. Help me get to the cabin and I’ll tell you everything.”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second more then gave a low groan and punched his phone’s screen with quick jabs. “Gretchen? Yeah. Cancel the backup. Yes, I’m sure. We’re good.”

Lance grabbed the backpacks from her. Amber moved to the back passenger door on the side away from the overhang, reached in and grabbed two heavy coats from where they’d fallen to the floorboard. “Come on, Sam, we have to go.” He ignored her. The sirens grew closer then went silent. “Sam. Number One Mom would want you to come with me.”

He didn’t look up, but scooted across the seat and out the door, his gaze still on his game. She gave a sigh of relief. She never was very sure what would work with him and what wouldn’t. Telling him his mother wanted him to do something seemed wrong, but if it was to save his life she’d do it. She held his coat for him and after a brief hesitation, he allowed her to help him put it on. She zipped it and pulled a hat on his head. “Gloves are in your pockets, Sam.” He simply stood there. “Sam? Your hands will get cold if you don’t put on the gloves.” She reached for the first pocket and he stepped back.

“No.”

She placed a hand on his arm and he didn’t pull away. She was never sure if she could touch him or not. They’d forgo the gloves for now. “Sam, I have to hold you while we walk up with the rope, okay?”

“Will he let me piggyback him?” Lance asked.

“No. Probably not.” She slipped her arms into her coat and zipped it. Then she got Sam’s attention and pointed. “See? We have to climb the rope up to the top.” He didn’t acknowledge her. She wrapped an arm around his waist with one hand and grasped the rope with the other. “Walk with me, Sam.” At first he resisted. Tried to pull away from her. She let him go and he slipped and fell on his rear. She held out a hand. “I have to help you, okay?” She reached for his arm again and helped him up. When he didn’t pull away, she scooted him behind her. “Walk in my steps. Count how many steps it takes to get to the top, will you?” She started off again, Lance staying silent behind Sam. She knew if the boy fell again, he’d catch him.

This time Sam put one foot in front of the other. “Good job, Sam.” He was either too distracted to notice her touch or just didn’t care at the moment. He let her lead, stepping carefully into the footprints she left in the snow. He held the game at his side, forgotten in this new adventure of “step in Amber’s steps.” His other hand clutched her belt and she heard him counting under his breath.

Amber led the way, memories of exploring these woods with her brothers and Lance crowded her mind. She’d had a great childhood, running free without a care in the world—except when one of those brothers took it upon himself to tease her...or scare her...or talk her into doing something that would get her in trouble with her parents. Yes, those were good times. Times that seemed like a hundred years ago.

And now she was running from killers. With a special-needs child to keep safe. She’d do it or die trying, but she had to admit, the responsibility scared her to death. Almost more than being caught by the people chasing them. Once they were in Lance’s car, she would find the road that led to the cabin. Or she could just let Lance get them there. She glanced at the man beside her. He would remember which road to take.

She kept her gun within reach, nerves humming since she halfway expected someone to jump out of the trees. But that was silly. Finally, she crested the hill. She let go of the rope and led Sam to stand next to the Ford.

“Why is someone shooting at you?” Lance said as he caught up with her.

He wanted to discuss this now? “Because I have something they want.”

She spotted the road she’d been looking for. “And there it is. We almost made it.” The exertion had kept them warm but she knew that once they weren’t moving, she would be cold. Very cold. “How many steps, Sam?”

“Sixty-seven.”

He always answered her questions about numbers. Such an interesting kid. And she loved him fiercely.

“The cabin’s not too far from here,” Lance said. “Get in and I’ll take you there.”

She opened the back door for Sam then paused. “No, wait.” She shut the door. “You can’t take us, we need to walk through the woods.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Getting that way. If the people who shot at me come back, they’ll see the tracks and know I went off the road. Then they’ll look for tracks leading away. If you drive us, you’ll leave fresh tracks straight from here to the cabin.”

“What about your footprints?”

She looked up. It was snowing fast enough to fill shallow steps but not the deep grooves his SUV would make. Maybe. “I’ll just have to take that chance. As long as we’re moving through the woods, we should be all right.”

“What if you walk along the edge of the lake?”

“And let the water cover our tracks?”

“And come up to the house from the back. They’ll be looking for tracks on this side.”

She looked at Sam.

He tilted his head and looked at the ground. “Hungry. Number five for six forty-nine plus add cheese for ninety-nine cents and a number twenty-four for two ninety-nine. The subtotal is ten forty-seven plus sixty-three cents for tax. The grand total is eleven dollars and ten cents.”

Lance lifted a brow. “A human calculator?”

“Something like that. And he likes lists.”

“I guess we know what he wants for dinner,” Lance said. “What restaurant?”

“Burgers-N-Shakes To Go. But that’s going to have to wait.”

She picked up the pace and looked back to make sure Sam was still in her footsteps. He was. And Lance was right behind Sam.

She heard the car on the road behind them before she saw it. She spun and motioned for Lance to get behind a tree. But he was already moving, crossing the street to the wooded area. He stashed the backpacks and drew his weapon then slid behind the large oak and faced the road.

Amber did the same. “Sam, over here. Hurry.” Sam didn’t look up, just trudged toward her. She positioned him where she wanted him. He was small enough that she knew he was invisible from the road. “Stay here, okay? Don’t move. Count how many seconds we stand here quiet without making a sound. Start now.”

He didn’t look at her but he didn’t move either. She just prayed that he stayed that way. She took cover behind one of the other larger trees nearest to Sam. If she had to grab him and run, she would. The car slowed, looking at the SUV parked on the edge of the road. She knew her car wasn’t visible from where the sedan was positioned, but if they got out and looked close, it would be. She held her breath and caught Lance’s eye. He was ready to act should he need to.

The car was the same one she’d seen behind her just a while ago. The same one the bullet had come from. The same one that had been parked in Yousef Pirhadi’s driveway the morning she’d run with Sam. How had they found her?

* * *

Lance didn’t know the whole story, but he knew he had to help Amber and Sam. The car next to his SUV sat still and idled. He wondered if the occupants were talking about whether they should explore the area. If they got out and started looking around, Lance figured they’d be discovered.

A fire truck lumbered into view and Lance nearly went to his knees with gratitude. It moved slowly, carefully plowing its way through the few inches of snow that hadn’t yet frozen.

The sedan gently pulled away from the scene appearing not to be in a hurry. Anyone watching would just assume he’d slowed to check on the accident victims but decided to leave when help arrived. Lance released a breath and saw Amber do the same. She shoved her weapon out of sight and touched Sam on the arm. Sam ignored her. “Come on, Sam, time to go.”

Again, the boy didn’t move and Amber sighed.

Lance spotted the video game sitting on the ground. “He might need this.” Lance picked it up and handed it to Sam.

Sam took it. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Lance picked up the backpacks and passed them to her. “I’ve got to address this. I guess they decided to check the scene in spite of my canceling the call. Head to the cabin. I’ll be there shortly.”

“You won’t mention us?”

He sighed. “No, I won’t mention you. But we’re going to have a long talk when I get there.”

She nodded. “Fine. Thank you. And if you can avoid having them find the car just yet, I would appreciate it.”

He drew in a breath. “All right. I’ll do my best.”

“I just need to buy some time. I know someone will see the car sooner or later, I just need later, okay?”

“Like I said, I’ll try. Watch out for that sedan. Keep the same plan. Stay in these woods and cross the street before you get to the house. Cut through the beachy area of the lake and come up to the back of the house. There should be a key under the turtle in the flower bed.”

“That’s what I was counting on.” She touched Sam’s hand and he let her begin to lead him out of the woods and, hopefully, toward safety.

Lance watched them until they disappeared over the next rise then down the hill. Then he turned and made his way back across the street to answer the questions as best he could. He pulled his phone from the clip on his belt and saw he had six missed calls. All from Clay, Amber’s brother. He pressed the button to dial the man’s number and lifted the phone to his ear. Clay answered on the first ring. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. I came across an accident and stopped to help.” All truth. He wouldn’t lie to his boss.

“You need me to come out there?” Clay obviously hadn’t heard about the wreck—or the fact that Lance had called for backup and then canceled it. Hopefully, by the time that was revealed, Amber would have agreed to bring her brother in on whatever was going on with her.

“No, but I’m going to be a while. Fortunately, there aren’t any injuries or fatalities, but you know how it goes. This is going to take some time.”

“Right. How’s the weather holding for you?”

Lance looked at the sky and the white ground around him. “The snow’s stopped falling but the temperature hasn’t. It’s going to be a cold one.”

“Stay warm.”

“Yeah, you, too.”

“Want me to save you a plate?”

Lance thought about it. He wasn’t going to leave Amber and Sam at the cabin alone. She needed someone to watch her back and he knew that she wasn’t going to ask for help. He felt guilty, torn between letting Clay know his sister needed help and keeping her secret like she’d asked. He’d keep his word, but he didn’t like it—or think it was right. However, if he spilled the story to Clay and it put Amber and Sam in even more danger...

Lance sighed. “No. I may not make it tonight after all. If you don’t see me, don’t worry about it. I’ll check in with you later.”

“If you’re sure.”

Lance glanced in the direction Amber and Sam had gone. “I’m sure.” Maybe by the time he heard Amber’s story and put the pieces to this puzzle together, he’d think of a way to convince her to bring her brother, the sheriff of Wrangler’s Corner, into her small circle of trust.

THREE

Amber put one wet, frozen foot in front of the other as she led the way to the cabin. Her adrenaline was crashing and so was her energy. She’d been awake almost two straight days. If she didn’t get some sleep soon, her body was going to quit on her. Fortunately, Sam was in a good mood and seemed content to follow her lead. Of course, he’d slept a good bit of the drive and she’d just carried him through the water so his feet would stay dry. Once she explained to him why she needed to carry him, he acquiesced. Sometimes logic worked with him, sometimes not. She was thankful he’d made it easy on her this time.

Amber finally reached the flower bed and pulled her gloves from her hands. She dug through the dirt and leaves in the place she knew the turtle used to be. Her fingers touched a hard surface, and she brushed the refuse away. It was still there. “Thank you, God. Now please, let the key be there, too,” she whispered.

“Thank you, God,” Sam mimicked her.

Amber lifted the turtle and the once-silver key lay on the small patch of dirt. She snatched it up and headed for the back door. Sam plodded along beside her. She shivered. “You ready to get warmed up?”

He didn’t answer and she didn’t expect him to. She tested the knob and it was locked as she’d figured it would be. She inserted the key and twisted. Nothing. What? “Oh come on,” she muttered. She tried again. Still nothing. She slapped the door with her palm. Tried the key again.

And it turned.

She sucked in a breath and pushed the door open. “Hello? Anyone here?” She didn’t think so, but it didn’t hurt to use a bit of caution. She kept her hand on her weapon and Sam behind her. “Hello?” The house echoed back at her. The musty odor filled her nose, and she knew no one had been in the home for a while. It was cold inside. Almost as cold as it was outside.

She just prayed the power and water were still on. Her stomach rumbled reminding her they needed to eat something. The beef jerky, jar of peanut butter and bag of crackers in the backpack might have to suffice.

She pushed the door open farther and stepped inside. Her feet felt like blocks of ice but she couldn’t do anything about that just yet. Sam followed and she shut and locked the door behind him. “All right, let’s see if this works.” She reached for the light switch and flipped it up. A low glow came from the lamp on the end table. She let out a small breath of relief. Power was on. Now to clear the house. She checked on Sam who huddled in his coat, his game still clutched in his right hand. “You okay?”

“Yes.” Sam walked to the couch and sat down. Amber blinked at the fact that he’d answered her this time. She’d never figure out how his mind worked. And that was okay. For the past four years that she’d known Sam, she’d followed Nadia’s example and talked to him like she would any other six-year-old. Sometimes he answered, sometimes he didn’t.

She leaned over and unlaced her wet boots and kicked them off. Her socks squished against the hardwoods as she made her way to the thermostat on the wall. If the power was on, there should be heat, right? Please let there be heat, God.

Because she really didn’t feel like trying to find dry wood to start a fire in the fireplace.

She flipped the switch and heard a rumble in the back of the house as the furnace came to life. Oh, thank You, thank You. The Landerses’ children might not have wanted anything to do with the cabin, but they’d been paying the power bill. Which meant they probably had water, too. She searched the cabin for a laundry room and found the stackable washer and dryer in the hall. Just where she remembered it being.

Amber pulled her socks off, grabbed her boots and threw them in the dryer. It started right up, but the thunk, thunk of her boots had her worried. She found several towels in the bathroom and tossed them in with her boots. Now the thunks were muted, and she didn’t think anyone would be able to hear it from outside. She turned the oven on high and opened the door. It would heat fast and help warm the area. She’d be sure to turn it down as soon as they were comfortable.

She could smell the odor from the heating unit. It hadn’t been used in a while. At the sink, she turned on the faucet and water rushed into the basin and swirled down the drain.

Perfect.

She turned to see Sam still in his coat, sitting on the sofa and playing his game. Amber walked over to him and unlaced his boots. “Might as well get comfortable, kiddo.” She sighed and looked at the shoes in her hands. The sole of the left one was coming off. “We’re going to have to get you some new shoes soon.”

“No new shoes. Boots.”

“Okay. New boots then.”

“No. Old boots.” He fell silent and continued to focus on the game.

Amber pursed her lips. “What is it about these boots that you like so much anyway?”

Sam didn’t acknowledge her question and she didn’t force the issue. He had two pairs of shoes he’d wear without a tantrum. The ones she’d just removed from his feet and the pair sitting in his closet at the home he’d never return to.

She set the boots on the floor, walked to the windows near the back door and glanced out. Darkness had fallen but the full moon allowed her to see fairly well outside. The lake looked like a dark pool of black ink surrounded by trees and white snow. She could see her footsteps leading up from the lake and prayed that the people after them wouldn’t think to look in the backyards of the homes surrounding the lake. Or that the once-again falling snow would fill in the tracks before they started looking.

Amber moved to the front windows, scanning the area. The driveway branched off into a side road that led to the main road she’d been traveling when the goons had shot at her.

She glanced at her phone. Her untraceable throwaway phone. And was very tempted to dial her brother Clay’s number. She bit her lip, indecision warring inside her. Her handler would be waiting for her to call, to let her know where she was. Or did she already know?

For the first time since her flight with Sam, she had a moment to think. Kathryn Petrov. Her handler and friend, a woman Amber could trust with her life. Or so she thought. She and Kat had been through a lot together, and she never would have imagined the woman capable of betrayal. Now she didn’t know what to think or who to trust.

The knock on the door froze her for a split second. Sam didn’t bother to look up from his game. Amber slid her weapon into her hand and stepped on bare feet over to the door.

Another knock. “Amber, it’s me, Lance. Let me in. I’m freezing.”

She slid her gun back into the holster and opened the door. When he stepped inside, he squished. “You walked in the lake, too?” she asked.

“Yes. I walked in your prints. I left my SUV at the site of the wreck.” He held up a suitcase. “But I brought this.”

“Oh, thank you.” She took it from him. “Take your shoes and socks off, we’ll throw them in the dryer.”

While he discarded his wet boots and pulled his socks off, she opened the dryer and checked on hers. “Still a bit soggy. Might as well add yours to them.”

Lance padded over in his bare feet and handed her the wet socks and shoes. She tossed them in the dryer and got it started once again and hoped they wouldn’t have to leave the cabin in a hurry.

When she turned to face him, her nose collided with his chest and his hands came up to grip her elbows. She lifted her head, her heart thudding into overdrive. And there it was. The attraction she’d felt for him since...oh, forever. The childhood crush she’d never outgrown. She remembered the crushing despair when she’d learned that he’d married someone else. And as a result, she’d thrown herself into her job to push his memory aside. It had worked for a while. But now...now Krissy, his wife, was dead and he’d been alone for a long time. Had his heart healed from his wife’s betrayal and criminal activities? Was he ready to find someone else? And why was she even wondering?

She swallowed and tried to figure out her next move. Close in for a kiss or step back and pretend she didn’t see the spark of interest in his brown eyes?

He took the decision out of her hands. He cleared his throat. “So, do you have time to talk?”

Disappointed that the choice was suddenly gone, she tilted her head and kept her gaze on his. “Of course. Tell me what happened at the scene.”

“I answered a lot of questions and managed to keep them from finding the car. For now. If you look over the edge, you can’t see the vehicle immediately. When you hit those trees, snow fell and covered the top of it. There’s also a small overhang that sort of hides it, so...” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not sure Gretchen was convinced everything was fine, but I did manage to buy the time you said you needed.”

“Good,” she breathed as relief filled her. “What about the tracks I left going down the side?”

“I parked my SUV over most of them to hide them.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course everyone wanted to know what happened to the person involved.”

She winced. “What did you say?”

“That the person involved walked away from the wreck and was going to be fine. Although I did kind of hint at an abusive relationship and the longer we gave the person to get away the better off she’d be. They quit asking questions after that.”

She blew out a low breath. “Well, it’s the truth. Sort of. Thanks.”

He nodded and rubbed his hands together. “It’s starting to warm up in here.”

“Finally.” She walked over, shut the oven off and closed the door.

“I can’t believe the power and water are still on.”

“And no one’s broken in,” she added.

“That’s due to the security that patrols this area. You’re going to have to keep a low profile if you want to stay here very long.”

“I don’t plan to be here too long. I’m hoping to get what I need and get moving again.”

“What you need?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I guess that brings us full circle. Who shot at you, Amber? Who are you running from and why?”

Amber pursed her lips then motioned for him to have a seat at the kitchen table. Instead, he walked to the window and looked out. He placed his wallet and keys on the end table next to the sofa. “It’s quiet in the back.”

“Yes. For now.” She pushed aside the curtain above the sink. “The front is, too.” She scanned the area. “No headlights, no shadows. The full moon is helpful.”

“How did they find you?”

“I have my theories.”

“Such as?”

“A tracker on my vehicle. One that I didn’t find in spite of my careful search. Maybe.”

“Ah.”

Lance pulled out a chair and planted himself there. Amber turned and opened the freezer. “Oh, thank You, God,” she breathed.

“What?”

“Food.” She turned back to him with a frown. “Are you sure no one’s been living here?”

He shrugged and rubbed his head. “Now that I think about it, Mrs. Landers’s grandson may have been here sometime last month around Thanksgiving.”

“Then all the food in this freezer is probably good.”

“You’re going to eat it?”

Her frown deepened. “I’ll pay him for whatever I take, but yes, if it means the difference between going hungry and eating this food, we’ll eat.”

“Of course, I didn’t mean you should starve.”

She smiled. “I know. And I understand that I’ve just broken into someone else’s home. Then again Mrs. Landers always liked me. She taught my Sunday school class when I was in middle school and she used to have us girls over to hang out and go waterskiing in the summertime. She was always telling me to make myself at home. I think she’d be more than happy to offer her help if she could.”

He knew she was right, but still...the law was the law. Then again, someone had just tried to kill her and for now, this cabin was a safe place for her and Sam. Sam, who hadn’t budged when Lance walked in. Sam, who wanted a hamburger and fries and a chocolate shake. Lance sighed. Their talk could wait until they’d eaten. He stood. “You have any hamburger meat in there?”

“Yep.” She pulled out the patties and passed them to him.

At least the kid would have his burger. “Get me a frying pan. We’ll see if they’re still good.”

“You cook?”

“Out of survival, but yes.”

She dug in the cabinet next to the sink and came up with a frying pan. She handed it to him. “Have at it. I’m going to check on Sam then check all the windows again. I would walk outside, but don’t want to leave any more footprints than we already have.”

He frowned, but nodded. It was still hard to wrap his brain around the fact that Amber was here. She left and he turned the stove on. Within minutes Lance had the burgers cooking.

When he turned, he nearly ran Sam over. The boy stood behind him, watching him. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You like hamburgers, I hear.”

“Hamburgers. Yes.”

“Well, they’ll be ready shortly. You know how to set the table?”

“Three plates, three forks, three glasses, three napkins.”

“That should work.”

“Three hamburgers, three pieces of cheese, three tomato slices, three squirts of ketchup, three squirts of mayonnaise, three buns.”

“I hate it, but I don’t think we have all that.” Lance turned back to the stove and pressed the spatula against the meat. The smell made his stomach rumble, so he was going to go with the conclusion that the meat was fine to eat. He opened the pantry and found a bag of chips, a half-opened pack of cookies and a bag of dried fruit. He checked the dates. All good.

Now that he had time to think about it, he remembered overhearing someone at the diner in town talking about the fact that Jason Landers was going to sell the place. He glanced at the window. New curtains. He looked at the cabinets. They’d been repainted. Yep, Jason had been here working, fixing up the place. He hoped the man didn’t show up anytime soon or they were going to have some explaining to do.

He opened the cabinet and pulled down three plates and three glasses. He handed them to Sam who put them on the table. Lance noticed the boy’s precise movements. The plates went exactly in front of the chairs, the glasses just to the right of the plates.

Lance handed him the silverware from the drawer. Again, Sam placed them perfectly. “Nice job.”

“Yes. Nice job. Hungry.”

“We’ll eat in just a couple of minutes. As soon as Amber gets back in here, all right?”

As though she’d heard him, she came from the back of the cabin and crossed the small den into the kitchen. “Wow, this looks great.”

“Just burger patties tonight, I’m afraid. No buns or salad, but we’ve got chips and dried fruit.”

She waved a hand. “Protein is good. All of that is perfect. I’ve got peanut butter and crackers if we need them.”

“French fries,” Sam said.

Amber bit her lip. “We don’t have any fries tonight, Sam, I’m sorry. Eat the chips, though, they’re made from potatoes just like French fries.” She watched him carefully and Lance wondered if she was trying to guess how the boy would react.

She let out a breath when he simply sat and stared at his plate. Lance doled out the three burgers and the rest of the food and they ate them in silence.

Sam finished his last bite. “Television, please.”

Amber looked up. “There’s one in the bedroom. Come with me and we’ll get you set up.” She shot a look back over her shoulder at Lance and he interpreted it to mean they’d talk when she had Sam distracted.

He cleaned up the kitchen, leaving it cleaner than he’d found it, then walked into the den to check the windows once again. As he stared out into the night his gut twisted. What was Amber involved in? Who was after her and Sam? And why did he have a feeling his life was going to get flipped upside down?

Amber walked back into the living area and moved from window to window, doing exactly what he’d done just moments before. “CIA?” he asked.

She turned to face him, her face blank. “What?”

“You’re with the CIA, aren’t you?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Just answer the question.”

She hesitated and he could almost see her thinking about lying. Finally, she frowned. “Yes. What gave it away?”

Lance shrugged. “The fact that I know you. The fact that your family believes you’re a travel writer and the articles that come out don’t sound like anything you might write.”

She raised her eyes at that statement and he shrugged.

“Yes, I read them. Then there’s the fact that you’ve missed a lot of important family milestones and I don’t think anything less than life or death would have kept you away from being here for those. A travel article wouldn’t have kept you away. And also the fact that you handle yourself like a trained professional. It just fits. Now that I think about it anyway.”

She pursed her lips and nodded. “I came home for Thanksgiving.”

“Last year. And then you missed Christmas. And Aaron and Zoe’s wedding this past June.”

Her jaw tightened. “It couldn’t be helped.”

“I’m beginning to understand that. But what really kind of gave it away was that you found Zoe’s brother, Toby, and brought him with you for Christmas, for Zoe.” Aaron Starke had fallen in love with Zoe Collier, a woman who’d been trying to keep her nine-year-old daughter, Sophia, safe from people who’d been trying to kidnap her. Aaron and Zoe had fallen in love and been married almost six months ago. “Then the day after Christmas, you two disappeared together because you had work that wouldn’t wait.” She pressed her lips together. “So that brings me to my next question,” he said.

“Which is?”

“Why haven’t you contacted your handler?”

“How do you know I haven’t?”

“Call it instinct.”

“I was on assignment in Ibirizstan and only one person in the world knew where I was.”

“Your handler.”

“Yep.”

“Is your cover blown?”

“Wide open.”

“And you think he had something to do with that?”

She sighed and checked the windows again. “She. And I don’t know. Before that happened, I would have trusted her without thought. But now... I was in California three days ago. My informant was killed. Her name was Nadia Pirhadi. She was my best friend and Sam is her son. I’ve been living with her and her family for the past four years working as Sam’s nanny.” Her jaw worked as though holding back emotion and Lance found himself wanting to go to her, to hold her. He curled his fingers into fists and forced himself to remain still. “When everything went south, I grabbed my car keys, Sam and bolted.”

“And everyone thinks you’re a travel writer.”

“That’s what they’re supposed to think.”

He rubbed his eyes then looked at her. “So what makes you think your handler is involved?”

“Because as I was leaving, I heard Sam’s father, who’d just killed Sam’s mother, yell my name.”

Realization hit him. “Your real name, not your covert name.”

“Yes. He called me Amber.”

“And now you have no one to trust and nowhere to turn.”

“Exactly.”

“Well now you’ve got me. And you need to read in Clay.”

She twisted her fingers together then released them to rub her eyes. “I would rather not involve him.”

“He can help us.”

She turned a fierce gaze on him. “There is no us. You’re going to leave and go back to your normal life and forget that you ever saw Sam or me.”

Lance stared at her for a brief moment before letting out a humorless laugh. “Well, I can tell you right now, that’s not happening. You’re stuck with me for the duration.”

“I don’t think you understand. The last two people who’ve gotten involved with me have died. I can’t let that happen to you or anyone else.”

“And yet you came home,” he said softly.

She paused. “What?”

“You ran home.”

“Yes, but it’s just a pop in, pop out kind of thing. I left something here that I needed.”

“But you left it here. At home.”

“Yes.” She gave a short humorless laugh. “Is there supposed to be some deep psychological meaning to that?”

“I don’t know. What do you think?”

She stood frozen for a millisecond then her jaw trembled. “Maybe there is,” she whispered. She glanced toward the back of the house. “I’ve been in a lot of tight spots over the last five years, but this time, it’s very possible I’m in over my head.”

“Then let us help.”

She paused. Paced from window to window then turned and met his gaze. “If you help me, you could be putting yourself in the kind of danger that a lot people don’t live to talk about.”

He didn’t flinch. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

FOUR

Once Amber had helped Sam get a quick sponge bath and into some clean sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt, she waited for him to climb beneath the covers. But then he pushed the blankets away and sat up. “Book. Number One Mom read a book. Please.”

“Number One Mom isn’t here, Sam, I’m sorry.”

He blinked. “Number One Mom is gone.”

“Yes, she is, Sam. She...died.” She didn’t know how much he understood, but he seemed to grasp the concept that his mother wasn’t coming back. Maybe. In some ways he was brilliant and yet, he was definitely still a six-year-old child.

“Number Two Mom read a book. Please.”

Amber opened the app on his phone and brought up his favorite book. A book about dogs and numbers. She read it to him three times before she saw his eyes getting heavy. She closed the app and plugged the phone in next to him. She wasn’t a huge fan of allowing children his age unlimited use of technology, but right now, in their situation, she had to use whatever she could to keep him happy. Once she knew they were safe and his father was either in prison or dead, then they would reevaluate the device usage.

Amber walked back into the den to find Lance standing at the window, his weapon held by his side. She tensed. “What is it?”

“Thought I heard something, but then I caught sight of a doe so maybe I’m just twitchy.”

“Being twitchy might just keep us alive.”

“Right.” After twenty minutes and nothing else happening, she was finally able to relax a fraction. “I’m going to look in on Sam.”

He nodded. Amber walked down the hall to peer in on the child. He lay sprawled on his back, his chest rising and falling with each even breath. Keep him safe, God, no matter how You feel about me, keep that child safe, please. He’s so smart, brilliant really. I know You have some kind of special plan for him. Let him live to fulfill that. She felt tears prick at the back of her eyes and swallowed. Crying accomplished nothing. She wouldn’t start now. Amber returned to the den and found Lance at the back door, peering out the window. He glanced at her when she entered. “How’s he doing?”

“Sleeping. I’m not too surprised. He slept some in the car. It seemed like he slept a lot, but now that I think about it was more like catnaps. He needs a good night’s rest.”

“As do you, probably.”

She couldn’t help the yawn that escaped. “Mmm. Probably.” She walked to the dryer and checked her socks. Dry. Perfect. The boots were still damp so she left them in and started the dryer again. She handed Lance his socks and then sat in the nearest chair to pull hers on.

“Go get the rest, Amber.”

Amber hesitated. She’d had to rely on herself for so long that trusting someone else—even Lance Goode—wasn’t a likely possibility. “I probably wouldn’t fall asleep anyway.”

“You’ve got to or you’re going to get punchy and careless. Trust me, I know.”

Amber rubbed her gritty eyes. It had been all she could do to stay awake and read to Sam. She sighed. Lance was right, of course. She had to sleep. “All right. There’s a couch in Sam’s room. I’ll go try.”

“What about the other bedroom? That would be more comfortable.”

“No, I want to stay close to Sam. If he wakes up in a strange place he might get scared and start to wander. I’ll be fine.” He frowned but didn’t protest. “Wake me in a few hours and you can take a turn.”

He nodded and she headed back down the hall to the room where Sam slept. Sam rolled over and opened his eyes when she walked in. She went to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Go back to sleep, Sam. It’s all right.”

His eyes closed, and she waited for him to drift off again. When she was convinced he was once again sleeping soundly, she snagged a pillow from the other side of the bed, a musty blanket from the closet and made herself as comfortable as possible on the couch. She didn’t expect to sleep but told herself she could at least relax a little. Her lids closed and she breathed deep.

* * *

Lance rubbed his forehead and moved to another window. It had been three hours since Amber had disappeared into Sam’s room, and Lance had just looked in on them. They were both asleep in spite of Amber’s allegation she wouldn’t be able to. He’d figured she would. Her fatigue had rolled off her in waves. He’d pulled the boots out of the dryer and put his on. He’d placed hers by the couch where she now rested. She’d opened her eyes briefly when he’d entered, saw what he was doing and shut them again.

He glanced from her to the sleeping child and shook his head. It was a huge responsibility that she was taking on and he had to admire her determination. He just prayed she let people help her before it was too late.

From his position by the window, Lance caught a glimpse of shadowy movement in the trees near the edge of the drive. He pulled his weapon and narrowed his eyes. Another deer? Or something more sinister? He waited and watched the area.

Nothing.

But he knew he’d seen something.

And then it moved again. Someone was behind the trees. Tension flooded him. His pulse picked up speed and his brain flashed scenarios. Then the shadow broke away and slipped to the next tree closer to the house. Lance saw the rifle in the figure’s hands.

He snagged his phone from the clip on his belt, huffed a breath of relief that he had a signal and dialed his dispatcher even as he moved down the hall to wake Amber. “Gretchen, I need that backup after all. Send it to the Landers cabin. And now.”

“What’s going on, Lance? You need backup then you don’t. Now you do.”

“I’ll explain later. Just get me the backup.” He hung up. At the bedroom door, he paused. “Amber,” he whispered.

Her eyes opened immediately and she sat up. Whatever she saw in his face had her reaching for the weapon that hadn’t left her side. In one smooth move she swung her feet over the side of the couch. She found the boots, slipped her feet in and fastened the Velcro straps. She stood, weapon palmed and ready. She nodded and Lance led the way back into the den area. “What is it?” she asked as soon as they were in the hall with the door cracked.

“Someone’s outside,” Lance said. “I saw his rifle.”

“They found the footprints.”

“That’s my guess.”

She took the front window while he watched the back. Fortunately, the room was small enough that they could communicate without yelling.

“See anything out the front?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“No, what about you?”

“Not at the moment. How many are there?”

“Probably two.” She checked her weapon again. “The good thing is, they probably don’t expect you to be here.”

“I walked in your footsteps so...”

“Exactly. So it just looks like me alone, although they probably figured I’d carry Sam.”

The glass shattered in front of his face and he jerked back, left cheek stinging. Cold air rushed in, and he lifted his weapon to fire back two quick rounds. The front window ruptured.

“Sam!” Amber fired three shots in the direction the bullets had come from then raced down the hallway to the bedroom.

Silence fell for a moment, and Lance figured their attackers were assessing the situation. They hadn’t expected someone to fire back from both sides of the house. Amber reappeared with Sam in her arms, the child wrapped in the comforter from the bed. She stayed in the windowless hallway and set Sam on the floor. “Stay here, Sam, understand?” The child looked sleepy and a little grumpy, but otherwise unalarmed. Amber handed him the ever-present game but he simply set it on the floor beside him, laid down and closed his eyes.

* * *

Amber flinched when the gunfire started up again. More bullets riddled the walls of the cabin and shattered the windows in the kitchen. She swung her weapon to aim through the broken window in the den and fired back. “We’ve got to get out of here,” she gasped. More bullets came her way, and she jerked back against the end table next to the sofa. The lamp crashed to the floor, and she didn’t have time to worry about it. She caught sight of movement to the left, aimed and squeezed the trigger once more. The figure cried out, stumbled and went to his knees.

“Help should be on the way,” Lance said. “I called dispatch. I’m not even sure they’ll be able to get here, but I’m hoping if they do, the sirens will send these goons running.”

“I think I hit one,” she said. She fell silent as she studied the front area and waited for the sound of gunshots to ring through the night air once again. When it didn’t, she looked back at Sam. He lay still where she’d put him, his eyes watchful, trusting.

He sat up. “One thirteen.”

Amber blinked. “What?”

“One thirteen.”

“One hundred thirteen? What does that mean, Sam?”

“Paper said one thirteen.” Then he laid his head back on the floor and closed his eyes.

Amber knew Sam had just told her something very important, but she had no clue what it meant. And she didn’t have time to think about it now. She had to get them out of the cabin and to a safe place.

She heard the roar of an engine and looked out to see a snowmobile glide to a stop. The rider held out a hand to his wounded partner in crime and pulled him up behind him. They sped away and Amber grabbed Lance’s keys from the floor then raced to Sam. She picked him up and he struggled against her for a brief moment then let her carry him.

Lance was already at the back door. She slapped the keys into his hand. “Let’s get to my car,” he said. “We can head to my ranch. We’ll be safe there. I have a couple of guys who work for me. They’ll help watch out for us.”

“First we need to get to your car.”

“Follow me.”

“I need to grab my backpack. And Sam’s shoes.”

“I’ll get it. I’ll throw his shoes in, too.” Lance bolted to the back of the house and returned within seconds.

Amber tried to decide the best course of action. She was used to making split-second decisions when it came to her own safety, but the child in her arms brought a whole new meaning to the word fear. She couldn’t make a wrong move when it came to protecting him. As a result, she hated to leave the security of the cabin, even as iffy as that security was, to venture into the wide-open space of outside.

But they had no choice. She followed Lance out the door, hovering over the boy in her arms. Sam held himself rigid, but didn’t protest her carrying him. A fact for which she was very grateful.

Lance held his weapon ready, pointing one way, then the other. He led the way and she darted after him. She believed that the two who had been shooting at the cabin were gone, but she wasn’t absolutely sure so that meant her nerves were standing on edge.

Lance didn’t hesitate. He kept going through the ankle-deep snow. At least it had stopped coming down for the moment. She didn’t care about the fact that they would be able to follow their prints. Not now.

“Almost there,” Lance said.

Amber’s arms started to ache. It didn’t help that Sam began wriggling. “Down.”

“Be still, Sam. Please.” She huffed. She was in excellent physical condition, but Sam weighed a little over fifty pounds and conditions were working against her.

“Let me take him,” Lance said.

“He won’t go to you. Just keep going, okay?”

Lance didn’t argue. They continued the trek with Amber anxiously watching over her shoulder. Her breath came in puffs, but she didn’t stop.

They raced down the hill, along the tree line, using the trees for cover as much as possible. It felt like a lifetime, but in actuality was probably only about ten minutes before she found herself back on the road. She crossed the street and slipped into the woods. Lance led her to a small clearing where he’d pulled his Ford. Snow covered the vehicle and had hidden the tracks he’d made when he’d pulled in.

He opened the door and helped her buckle Sam in the backseat. She tucked the blanket around him and he leaned his head against the door.

The exertion had kept her warm, but now she shivered in the cold as she hadn’t had time to grab her coat before bolting from the cabin. Amber raced around to the passenger door and climbed into the seat beside Sam. If someone discovered them and bullets started flying again, she wanted to be able to cover Sam with her body.

Or shoot back through the window if she had to.

Within seconds, Lance flipped on his headlights and pulled from his hiding place. “Give it a minute to warm up and I’ll turn the heat on.”

“That’s fine.” She tucked her right hand under her left armpit to warm her nearly frozen fingers. She needed to keep them limber in order to be able to pull the trigger should the need arise.

“A snowmobile picked up that wounded guy,” he said. “I never heard it approach.”

“They parked far enough away then walked in.”

“And when the shooting started, they realized we could hold our own on the firepower. One of them went after it.”

“He had to in order to pick up the guy I shot.”

“Yeah.”

The chains on the tires gripped through the snow and ice and Lance was able to move at a steady, if slow, pace toward his home.

“You’ll need to check with hospitals nearby and see if anyone comes in with a GSW,” she said.

“Yep.”

She sighed. “Sorry. I know you know how to handle this.”

“It’s fine. You never know. You might say something I don’t think of.”

“Right.” She looked at Sam. His eyes were open and he was taking everything in. She leaned toward him. “Sam, what is one thirteen?”

He blinked then crossed his arms across his belly and started rocking. “One thirteen.”

“I know. What is it?” she pressed.

“One thirteen. One thirteen. Number One Dad. Number One Dad.”

“It has something to do with your dad, huh, Sam?”

Sam closed his eyes and continued his rhythmic rocking, counting his backward and forward motion, lips moving silently. Amber knew the child well enough that pressing him now would get her nowhere. She looked out the back window and saw no headlights. In fact, the darkness of the night pressed in all around her. It made her feel safe. Deceptively safe, she knew, but for the moment, she relished it.

Then Lance was pulling into his gravel drive, the chains on the tires crunching the snow and small rocks. “I’m going to park in the garage.”

“Great.”

The door to the three-car garage went up and he pulled the large SUV into the space on the left. The area on the right held a boat and two snowmobiles. He shut the engine off. “Come on in.”

It had been a while since Amber had seen his home. Krissy, his wife, had been alive the last time she’d set foot on the property and he’d made a lot of changes since then.

He opened the back door on Sam’s side and held a hand out to the boy. Sam ignored him and climbed out on his own. Amber shrugged and slid across the seat to follow him. Sam stopped at the door and looked at his feet. Lance unlocked the door, punched in the code for the alarm then led them through a mudroom and into a kitchen. He flipped the lights on then stood still for a moment, listening. Amber did the same, her hand on her weapon.

“Alarm was armed. All looks okay. Stay here a minute.”

She did and he disappeared down a hall. When he returned, he looked slightly less tense. “We’re good.”

“They might have seen your car. They could show up any minute if they got the plate.”

“Maybe. We’ll be prepared for that.” He sent several texts from his phone while she looked around.

“Wow.”

“What?” he asked, finally looking up.

“Your kitchen. It’s really nice.”

He let his eyes roam the area as though seeing it for the first time. “Oh. Thanks.”

“This does not look like it used to. Did you suddenly come into some money?” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, was that rude?”

He crossed the room and flipped another switch. The den lit up. As well as a seven-foot-tall Christmas tree in the corner near the fireplace. The lights blinked off and on, a colorful display of festivity. A stark contrast to the darkness she and Sam were battling. He turned with a small smile. “No. It wasn’t rude. I did get some money from Krissy’s life insurance policy, but mostly I’m just handy with a hammer and some power tools. I had a bit of time on my hands after she died.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t spend it all hidden away in my little cave in the mountains. Apparently, it made people worry about me.”

“You still go there?” He’d always loved the caves in the hills. He knew that area better than anyone.

“Sure. It’s a stress reliever for me. My get-away-from-everything place.”

She scowled. “Maybe I should use it as my get-away-from-the-bad-guys place.”

He smiled. “Come on and I’ll show you the guest bedroom. You want to stay in the same room with Sam, I suppose?”

“Yes, that’s probably best.”

“All of my family lives out of town now. Dad got a job transfer a couple of years ago and my sister and her husband and kids live in Nashville. They come visit every now and then. The kids love the ranch.”

“How is Janine? I heard she made you an uncle again a few months ago.”

“Yep.” He smiled. “That makes four for her. Two girls and two boys. She said Billy wanted a basketball team with two subs.”

“Seven kids?”

“I know.”

“Think they’ll really go for seven?”

“Looks like it. She’s homeschooling and seems to love every minute of it—even the days when she’s pulling out her hair and trying to balance their finances.” He smiled. “So, I know you’re tired. I’ve got two guest bedrooms. The one at the end of the hall has its own bath. Why don’t you use that one?”

“Thanks.” She glanced at the clock hanging on his wall. “It’s only midnight. I thought it might be two or three in the morning.”

“Feels like it. Follow me.”

She did and soon she had Sam tucked in. The child was so tired he didn’t have the energy to protest or oppose his new surroundings. He simply closed his eyes and fell asleep.

She heard footsteps in the hall and turned, her hand going to her weapon.

“It’s just me,” Lance said.

She relaxed a fraction. “Sorry.”

“Your adrenaline is still racing.”

“Must be.”

“You’ll need to crash again soon.”

She lifted a brow. “Hmm.”

His lips curved in a slight smile and he handed her a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt. “The pants belong to my sister who visits every so often. The shirt is mine. It’ll swallow you, but it’s clean and warm. The bathroom is stocked with whatever you need.”

“Thanks.” She took the clothes and he stared a moment longer. She couldn’t read his expression and wasn’t sure she wanted to. “Is there something else?”

He started to shake his head then stopped. “You’re not the same Amber Starke I used to know.”

Amber let out a low laugh. “No, I’m definitely not the girl you used to know.” She paused. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No. Not bad. Maybe not good either. But interesting. Definitely interesting.” He turned and left, and Amber watched him disappear into the den.

Now what did he mean by that? He obviously felt the same tug of attraction she did. And while the thought was exhilarating, it was also...unnerving. She hadn’t planned to be in Wrangler’s Corner long, much less be attracted to a man she thought was lost to her forever. She huffed.

Who was she kidding? Romance and attraction aside, she had killers after her. And even if she didn’t, as long as she was in her line of work, she’d never get involved.

As an operative, before she had become Amber’s handler just six months ago, Kat had met someone she’d thought she might be able to develop a relationship with. She’d gotten involved with a guy named Vincent Ford. She’d met him through her brother and soon found herself defending every move she made.

When she’d finally read him in, he’d dumped her. After that, Kat had wept on Amber’s shoulder about having to lie about her job, her life, her...everything. She’d warned Amber to avoid romantic entanglements at all cost. Amber shook her head. She’d never met the man—Kat had been too worried about introducing him to her friends in the business. Which Amber had understood. Just one more sacrifice she’d had to make thanks to her career.

And now she found herself drawn once again to a man she couldn’t have. Or at least shouldn’t have. She groaned and sighed.

Unwilling to waste any of her remaining energy on thinking about it—or him—she looked around the room.

She needed a hot shower. She wanted a hot shower.

But first things first. She walked to the window to test it and found it secure. As secure as it could be, she supposed. She checked her weapon, tucked the covers around Sam a bit better then walked into the bathroom and turned on the water. While the water heated, she mulled the situation over and over in her mind.

And tried to figure out how she was going to get what she needed and get out of Wrangler’s Corner without getting anyone else involved.

Or killed.

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