“I don’t want you here, Echo,” he said, trying sincerity. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I know you don’t. But you’re injured and someone needs to cover your back.”

“And that someone is you,” he said, and the tone of his voice let her know what he thought of that idea.

“I’m better than nothing,” she said, and then added, “Don’t say I’m not. You know it’s true. If these men are as horrible as you say they are, two people are better than one.”

“Not when one of them is a pretty woman,” he said, “which is why I’m asking you for the last time to turn the truck around and drive to the airport.”

She spared him another glance “I’m relieved to hear you say this is the last time you’re asking. It’s getting monotonous. Listen, Adam, I promise I’ll go meekly away after this little visit. You’ll never have to even think of me again.”

He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again without uttering a word. What was the point? He knew he’d never stop thinking about her.

Westin Legacy
Alice Sharpe

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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This book is dedicated with love and appreciation to my husband, Arnold, brainstormer superb!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Alice Sharpe met her husband-to-be on a cold, foggy beach in Northern California. One year later they were married. Their union has survived the rearing of two children, a handful of earthquakes registering over 6.5, numerous cats and a few special dogs, the latest of which is a yellow Lab named Annie Rose. Alice and her husband now live in a small rural town in Oregon, where she devotes the majority of her time to pursuing her second love, writing.

Alice loves to hear from readers. You can write her at P.O. Box 755, Brownsville, OR 97327. An SASE for reply is appreciated.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Adam Westin —It’s up to him to stop the looting of the prehistoric burial cave located on Open Sky land before an explosive threat from the past destroys everything—and everyone—he loves.

Echo De Gris —She spent her first years of life on the Open Sky. She’s back now, but just for a visit. Becoming reacquainted with her childhood nemesis makes her wonder if she’ll ever want to leave. A killer makes her wonder if she’ll live long enough to get away.

Cody Westin —He’s determined not to make the same mistake his father made. He wants his wife back—is he too late?

Brice Westin —Is it true he doesn’t know where Adam’s mother disappeared to all those years ago, or is it possible he’s known all along and will now do anything to protect that secret?

Lonnie Nielsen —He’s in for a heap of trouble. Or is he causing it?

Del Halverson —One of Brice’s oldest friends. What exactly did he do when he left Wyoming? And is he doing it again?

J.D. Oakes —Another old pal with a hazy past. Is it finally catching up with him?

Pete Westin —Echo’s stepfather. Is it a coincidence that he left the Open Sky after Adam’s mother’s disappearance, and returned the day the violence escalated?

David Lassiter —The cowpoke who ran off with Adam’s mother. Or did he?

Willet Garvey —He’s no fan of the Westins. How far will hatred and greed take him?

Hank Garvey —Willet’s son, Hank is determined to exact revenge at any cost.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Prologue

As Lonnie fumbled the key in the lock, he glanced over his shoulder and scanned the faces of his buddies.

“Remember, you guys,” he said, not too surprised to detect a slur in his voice. Damn hooch sure snuck up on a man. “This is top secret. You gotta…gotta promise you won’t tell anyone about this. Especially not Janine.”

The other two men nodded solemnly.

The key finally clicked and he pushed in the door. He didn’t want to turn on the light until he’d secured the room again. Never knew when Janine might take it into her head to come on down to the basement and make sure he wasn’t gambling her trust fund away on a busted flush. He urged his friends forward into the heavy shadows. “Don’t touch nothing,” he warned.

Once they were all crammed inside, he closed the door, slid the dead bolt, switched on the light and waited for a chorus of gratifying gasps.

“What’s all this junk?”

The corners of Lonnie’s mouth drooped. “What do you mean, what is it? It’s artifacts.”

“Your ‘private stash’ is bunch of old broken pots?” one man scoffed. Now Lonnie was getting mad. After all these years he had finally decided to share his collection and this was what he got? He pointed at a square-looking figure in a glass case. “That there, that’s a rare Central American Human Effigy. Worth almost five thousand bucks.” He pointed at another case. “And that canteen is Southwest Anasazi. I paid three thousand for it. The case over there is full of Mississippian Indian relics. Any museum would love to have just one of these things.”

“Where’d you get ’em?”

This came from his best friend of the group, who was eyeing Lonnie as though he was some kind of traitor.

“Here and there.”

“Black market?”

Lonnie shrugged.

“What about this?”

Lonnie turned to admire a prehistoric carved rock bowl. The handle was a crude rendition of a human head, turned away from the indentation, the skull overlaid with a veneer of gold.

“That’s my latest purchase,” Lonnie boasted. “It’s local, from right here in Wyoming. No one knows which tribe, but it’s old. Prehistoric. Paid a bundle for it, too.”

“Someone local sold it to you? Who?”

Lonnie shook his head. “No, no, I ain’t telling. He promised me more pieces though. Said he was going deeper, whatever that means.”

There was a sudden chill in the room as though a north wind had just blown over the top of an icy Rocky Mountain peak. Lonnie looked from one face to the next. Neither set of eyes revealed a thing.

It was there, though. In the air. Something cold and watchful.

He rubbed his eyes, wondering if the booze had made him woolly-headed, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he wasn’t the only one in that small private room who kept secrets.

Or that the ones he sensed might be as dangerous as his own.

Chapter One

They’d been driving for what felt like forever, but that wasn’t the real problem. It seemed to Echo De Gris that her stepfather’s anxiety had increased with every advancing mile into Wyoming and now that they were on Open Sky Ranch land, it was almost suffocating.

This made no sense because he was the one who had insisted moving back here soon after Echo’s mother’s long illness had finally claimed her life. Echo had been surprised when, at the last minute, he’d asked her to come along on the trip—they had never really been close and she was in the middle of life-changing events of her own. But how could she deny him?

“There it is,” he said, his voice anxious. He shifted around and flashed her a nervous smile, then peered back out the window. His voice barely a whisper, he repeated himself. “There it is.”

She’d been so involved maneuvering the big truck and rented trailer along the gravel road that wound its way through the rolling hillsides of tall grass that she hadn’t looked very far ahead. She did now as they topped a peak, and caught a glimpse of a large log house nestled near a pond in the valley below. Aspens surrounded the house while the uncompromising Rocky Mountains ringed the valley. A dozen barns and outbuildings fanned into corrals and fenced pastures while an airstrip ran more or less parallel to a stream. There were several black cows in evidence, their lowing riding on a gentle breeze. Horses, some with foals at their sides, dotted the hillsides.

She’d lived here as a small girl but everything looked bigger now than she remembered. High white clouds, brilliant blue skies, jagged peaks.

And talk about remote…

“Herd must be up at the summer pastures,” Pete Westin mused and there was a wistful tone to his craggy voice. She wasn’t sure why he’d sold out and moved her and her mother to the West Coast twenty-some-odd years before; she was just grateful he had. Imagine growing up someplace like this. Even the thought of a day or two in such a spot made her itchy.

A few moments later, she drove into the yard, pulling the rig to a stop beside a half dozen other trucks, most of them with dusty ATVs roped into the beds. All she had to do now was help her stepfather get settled, then she was free to catch a ride to Woodwind and buy a ticket on the first plane headed back to civilization.

“I wonder where everybody is. I expected them to be mowing the fields by now, but it doesn’t look as though they’ve even started,” Pete said as he opened his door.

Echo scooted out from behind the wheel. “I’ll take a look around,” she said. It was a big truck with a long drop to the ground and her full skirt caught in the retracting seat belt. She ended up with bare thighs in a swirl of cotton.

“Never mind, here comes someone,” Pete called from the other side of the truck.

As Echo battled with her clothes she looked up to see a man approaching.

There was something about a cowboy, even to a city slicker like her. Maybe it was the snug jeans or the shirt stretched across strong, broad shoulders; maybe it was the way a guy moved when he didn’t spend a lot of time sitting. Or the hat—black in this instance—shading the eyes, squaring the jaw. Whatever it was, whew. Some of them just had “it” and you knew what “it” was when you saw it.

He looked away from her predicament, but not before she saw the speculation in his silvery eyes. Damn—she was nearly naked from the waist down. With a final yank, she reclaimed her skirt.

His gaze moved to her face, then away as he appeared to notice her stepfather on the far side of the truck. He looked quickly back at Echo and speculation turned into surprise. “Either Uncle Pete got himself a pretty young wife or you’re my little cousin Echo,” he said as they shook hands.

She narrowed her eyes and looked him over again. Too young to be Cody…gray eyes…

She’d seen his college graduation picture a few years earlier, taken with his dad, a herd of cattle behind them. “You’re Adam,” she said.

His smile tipped handsome into gorgeous. “I didn’t know you were coming with Uncle Pete.”

“It was sort of last-minute. I’ll be gone before you know it.”

“She’s got herself a new job in New York City,” Pete grumbled. He’d made no bones about his opinion of her moving across the country.

Adam released her hand. “New York, huh. You’ve turned into a big city girl.”

“I grew up in San Francisco,” she reminded him. “I mean, after we left here.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you. It’s been a long time.”

“Yes, it has.”

Adam continued on around the truck to greet his uncle. “First Pierce comes home and now you. It’s getting to be like the old days around here. Welcome, Uncle Pete.”

Pete Westin looked genuinely pleased as he delivered a manly clap on the shoulder to Adam. “Where is Pierce?”

“Still in Chatioux. Analise’s father took a turn for the worse. They’re getting ready to crown her brother king so Pierce extended his stay. He should be home next week.”

“I read about what happened here last winter in the newspapers. They made it sound like Pierce was going to marry this Princess Analise.”

“That’s the rumor.”

“How about that? The troublemaker gets himself a princess. How about Cody? Is he around?”

“He and Jamie are working on the mowers. We were supposed to start haying yesterday but everything went wrong. With any luck we start tomorrow bright and early. Dad is out in the barn with a couple cronies you might remember.”

“I’ll head on out there,” Echo’s stepfather said.

Adam nodded across the yard. “No need, they’re on their way.”

Echo turned to see three men. She’d assume she’d recognize her uncle, but the fact was she wasn’t sure which of the men was Birch Westin. All three of them appeared to be in their sixties and cut from the same Western cloth, all imposing in their own way, all about the same size. She looked at their hats—the most recent picture she’d seen of her uncle had him in a black Stetson with silver disks on the band. No help there: they all wore tan hats, two of them straw.

That’s when she remembered Uncle Birch had had knee surgery last winter followed by a series of setbacks that had delayed healing. One man limped, plus, the closer he got, the more he reminded her of Adam if you looked past the wear and tear of time.

“So, you made it,” Birch growled at Echo’s stepfather.

Echo’s stepfather’s shoulders grew rigid. “Yeah,” he said.

Birch nodded, then turned to Echo. His voice softened. “This is a nice surprise. I didn’t know you were coming, too.”

“I’m just here for a day or so,” she explained, moving to accept a perfunctory hug. Birch was as stiff a hugger as her stepfather—neither was the warm, cuddly type. Were all the Westin men like that? Her gaze flicked to Adam. Was he?

Birch took up introductions. “Pete, you remember J. D. Oakes,” he said, gesturing at the man with the white handlebar mustache and a piercing gaze. J.D. held between two fingers what appeared to be a hand-rolled cigarette. It smelled foul. “And this here is Del Halverson. I don’t know if you and Del ever ran into each other way back when.”

Pete shook both men’s hands. “Sure, I know these two. Del, I think you bought your place a year or two before I left. You’d just returned from the East Coast as I recall.”

Del Halverson was a florid man with small features bunched in the middle of a large face. “I wasn’t away long,” he said. “Got tired of working for my uncle in a damn bank. We all left Wyoming at one time or another, right? Even Lonnie moved away to be a soldier for a while. Big city lights tempt a man. Most of us wander back sooner or later. ’Cept you, J.D. You didn’t come from around here.”

“I came from a hundred miles north of here. I swear, Del, unless a man is born in your backyard, he’s a foreigner.” He smiled at Echo as he added, “I remember when you were a wisp of a little girl.” Then he dropped his cigarette to the gravel and ground it out with his boot. He looked up, caught Uncle Birch scowling at him, and hastened to pick it up. “Sorry, I forgot,” he said, and crossed to an old milk pail filled with sand that leaned beside a post. He dropped in the butt and turned back to Del. “Let’s get out of the way so these people can get reacquainted.”

Both men said their goodbyes then climbed into one of the trucks and drove off.

An uneasy silence ensued until Echo finally broke it. With a sweeping gesture, she indicated the house. “It sure looks different than I remember,” she said.

“Cody remodeled three summers ago before he married Cassie,” Adam volunteered.

“Fat lot of good it did him,” Uncle Birch snarled. “She ran off last winter anyway.”

Echo didn’t miss the knot that formed in Adam’s jaw. She wasn’t exactly sure what prompted it unless he didn’t appreciate his father making those kind of comments about his brother.

“This place is hard on women,” Pete commented.

Birch turned on his brother. “Is that why you sold me your share of the ranch and moved Althea away? Because the place was hard on her?”

“Partly.”

“Pauline is still here,” Birch grumbled. “She lasted.”

“Maybe because you never married her. Where is she, anyway?”

“In town for the day.”

“Looking forward to seeing her. And you know I didn’t move just because of Althea. Things weren’t the same after…”

His voice trailed off and he looked at the ground.

Birch glowered at his brother. “Go ahead and say it.”

The silence that followed his remark was so deep it felt like the earth itself held its breath. Echo shifted uneasily, glancing over at Adam, who was staring at the ground.

Finally, Pete thumped his leg with his fist. “That’s all water under the bridge. I’m back now to stay unless you’d rather I didn’t. It’s not my ranch anymore.”

“The Open Sky will always be your home,” Birch muttered. “Some things don’t change.”

“Then take me out to the barn and bring me up to speed. I plan to help with the haying. I used to know my way around a tractor, you know.”

A smile lifted Birch’s lips for a millisecond. “We can use the help. Come on, Adam, we’ll—”

“I can’t,” Adam said so quickly Echo decided he was as anxious to escape these two querulous old men as she was. He turned to Pete and added, “We discovered someone was looting the burial cave this winter. I need to ride out and check the safeguards Pierce and I put in place. What with haying, there won’t be another opportunity for the next few weeks.”

Echo saw her chance. “I’ll go with you,” she said.

“I’m going on horseback.”

“That’s fine.”

“Do you still ride?”

“Of course.” Sort of…

He glanced down at her sandals. “You’re not dressed for it.”

“I have boots and jeans in the truck.”

“It’s a long ride—”

“Oh, come on. I can keep up. I was pretty good on a horse.”

“That was a lifetime ago,” Adam said.

“I was a natural. Uncle Birch told me so.”

Birch actually chuckled as he took off his hat, rubbed the red mark it had left on his forehead and pulled it on again.

“Well, Pete, let’s you and me go find Cody and Jamie. Leave these two to pick up where they left off—squabbling.” With that, the two older men walked toward the outbuildings, both with ramrod-straight backs, both with hands jammed in their pockets.

Adam’s gaze followed his father and uncle.

“So,” Echo continued, “are you going to take me with you or not?”

He looked straight into her eyes. “You’re as pushy as you were when you were a skinny kid with pigtails.”

“I prefer to think of it as highly focused.”

“Self-delusional, too,” he muttered. “Okay, hurry and change. I’ll go saddle a couple horses. You want a broken-down mare or maybe a pony would be more your speed?”

She grinned, pleased he could still dish it out. “Give me a stallion, buddy, I can handle him.”

“I bet you can,” he murmured as he walked away.

ADAM RODE AHEAD OF THE BLACK gelding he’d saddled for Echo. Bagels was a spirited horse and under normal circumstances, Adam might have chosen another for what he guessed was an out-of-shape rider. But time was short and besides his own mount, Solar Flare, Bagels was the only horse in the barn even remotely suitable.

He smiled to himself at the phrase “out of shape.” One look at Echo De Gris in her jeans had confirmed what the earlier glimpse of her bare legs had blatantly announced. Whatever his cousin Echo was, she was also a damn good-looking woman.

Take the glossy short black hair that fell fetchingly across her forehead. Or her black-as-coal eyes, glinting with mischief. Or her slender back and strong arms. Before now his notice of her had been that of a slightly older boy stuck “babysitting” the brattiest little girl in the West. She’d matured into a very attractive woman if you didn’t count that willful streak of hers. Look at the way she’d coerced him into this ride.

“Hey up there,” she called.

He turned in his saddle to face her and caught a glimpse of her breasts jouncing softly as she rode. Nothing wrong with that, either. “What’s up?”

“What’s that little yellow building over there?”

“Ice fishing shack. We drag it over the lake when it freezes up, cut a hole in the ice and go to it.” He turned in the saddle, but she once again hailed him and he turned back.

“What about that house over there on the point?” She indicated with one hand and swayed slightly in the saddle. The gelding snorted.

“What about it?”

“It looks new. Whose is it?”

“Mine.”

“Hold up a minute,” she insisted. He rode to the top of the next rise and waited for her.

“I’m in a hurry,” he reminded her.

“Then ride, I’ll keep up. Tell me about this house of yours. It looks huge. You must be expecting to raise a big family.”

He shrugged.

“What’s your girlfriend think?”

“I don’t have a ‘girlfriend.’”

“Don’t you like girls?”

“Yes, I like girls,” he said. “There’s just no one special right now.”

“Did you build the house for the one that got away?”

“No one got away,” he said, casting her a look. “I haven’t met anyone…yet.”

“You built the house before you even met a girl you wanted to marry?”

He applied a gentle kick to Solar Flare to increase the speed. Echo did the same to her horse and managed to stay alongside him although her position in the saddle was precarious at best.

“Do you know I produce television shows?” she asked a little breathlessly.

“I thought you were a decorator of some kind.”

“Nope.”

“Is that your new job in New York, producing television shows?”

“That’s it.”

“What kind?”

“I did nature shows in San Francisco, but in New York I’m moving to food.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”

“I’m going to produce a cooking show. You know, on cable.”

“I’ve never heard of a cooking show,” he said honestly.

“You must live under a rock. There are whole channels devoted to cooking and eating and restaurants and all the rest.”

He shook his head.

“Anyway,” she continued, “last year, in Frisco, we did a three-part special on birds. I produced the segment on Bowerbirds. Have you ever hear of them?”

“I don’t think so.”

She waved a hand in the air and slipped again, grabbed the saddle horn and steadied herself. The horse tossed his head as if to ask what in the heck she was doing back there. “The male Bowerbirds really go all-out building these fantastic nests to lure a female into mating with them,” Echo said a little breathlessly. “Each nest is different, too. The males decorate them with colorful trash they find or maybe with flowers or dead insects…anything to attract a potential partner.”

The look he cast her this time was longer. “Wait just a second. Are you comparing me to a bird?”

She laughed. “Judging from that house you’re building, you’re aiming to capture a princess of your own and raise about ten kids.”

“No princess, no thanks. When I marry it will be to a girl who was raised on a ranch and knows exactly what she’s in for. And as for kids, don’t tell me, let me guess. You don’t like them. They’re too much trouble. They get in the way of a career.”

“Wrong, oh, wise one. I actually like kids.” Her forehead creased as she added, “Do you know what all that blustery stuff between my stepfather and your father was about?”

Adam turned away from the lake, following the steep trail into the trees. “It sounded like it was about your mother.”

“I think it kind of sounded as though they were talking about your mother.”

“No,” he said firmly. “No one on this ranch talks about my mother.”

Echo leaned sideways toward him. When he realized it wasn’t entirely on purpose, he put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back upright.

“Least of all you?” she said.

“Least of all, me.”

“But—”

“If your mother had run away with some cowhand while you were still a little kid, would you have spent a lot of time worrying about her?”

“I guess it would depend on why she ran.” Echo gasped as the gelding made a small but jarring leap across a gully. “Understanding that very basic thing seems important to me.”

“Not to me.”

“My stepfather mentioned your mother sent a postcard after she left. From Canada, I think he said. Did anyone track it down? Why don’t you try to find out where she went or if she’s dead or alive?”

Reaching the top of the ridge, he once again waited for the gelding to catch up. When Echo was beside him, he met and held her gaze. “Get this straight. My mother died for me a long, long time ago. She chose life with a guy named David Lassiter over a family who loved and needed her. Now, if you want to ride with me, I think we should change the subject, don’t you?”

Her black eyes flashed irritation. The gelding, apparently sensing her mood, pawed at the ground and snorted again. “I’m beginning to remember what you were like, Adam Westin. We always had to do everything your way, you always had to be the boss.”

“I was older than you.” The horse was turning in a circle now, making ominous guttural sounds in his throat. “Echo, be careful—”

“If your whole family is as sanctimonious about your mother as you are, no wonder she ran away!”

“Forget my mother for a minute. Calm down. Your horse—”

“I will not calm down. Maybe the two or three years between us was a big difference when we were little kids, but it’s nothing now,” she continued. “I have half a mind—”

The horse had had enough. He bolted. Going fast.

And in the wrong direction.

Chapter Two

“Whoa,” Echo shouted. She yanked on the reins automatically but all that seemed to do was make the horse toss his head. She looked down at the ground and wished she hadn’t. A blur of flying hooves, rocks and grass made her dizzy. Any half-baked idea she’d had of abandoning the saddle went away.

Thank goodness the horse had the good sense to stay in the open. At least so far…

Think. No way did she want Adam to save her although it probably beat plunging off a cliff.

Should she try pulling on the reins again? Both reins at the same time? One harder than the other? Help!

She couldn’t think straight. Her insides were bouncing around like ice cubes in a cocktail shaker. She was lost in panic mode just like the horse…?.

So calm him down….

Snatches of long-ago lessons finally fought their way through the electrical flash points in her brain. She needed to center herself in the saddle or she was going to go right over the gelding’s head the next time he tossed it. She managed to thread her fingers through a handful of mane down by his withers. Gulping with fear and effort, she attempted what seemed impossible, working to find a rhythm to the horse’s thundering gait and adapt herself to it, to stop fighting him. Give him time. All she had to do was stay on his back until he decided he’d had enough.

Gradually it seemed the horse’s surges decreased. She gently but firmly squeezed her knees, concentrating like crazy on relaxing into his stride. She was suddenly aware of Adam riding the big red-gold horse alongside her and had no idea how long he’d been there. He didn’t try to grab anything, just little by little began backing his horse off and that, too, seemed to reassure the gelding.

At last the gallop became a trot and the trot petered away to a nervous, staccato walk. Echo gently patted the gelding’s hot neck and made soothing sounds until he came to a full stop.

Adam slowly got off his horse and took the gelding’s reins. She slid out of the saddle. Her knees buckled when her feet hit the ground. Adam caught her and for a few seconds, she leaned against him and breathed heavy.

“Are you okay?” he muttered against her hair.

No voice yet to answer.

“I had no idea Bagels would respond to rider inexperience like that,” he said. “You did good, I mean for someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing.”

“The compliments just keep rolling off your tongue,” she muttered. Now that it was over, she’d turned into a jellyfish. Eventually it occurred to her that Adam Westin was not stiff like his father or her stepfather, not at all. He was firm and lean, yes, but he was also incredibly tender and his arms supporting her were strong. Warm. Sexy.

She pushed herself away, embarrassed to have such thoughts about him.

He tipped up her chin and smiled down at her. The leap her heart took into her throat was so disconcerting she twisted her head away.

He released her at once. “Take the reins. We’ll walk the horses for a while to cool them off.” He smoothed the gelding’s long nose. “You okay now, Bagels? Got it all out of your system?”

He started leading his horse up the path and she followed with Bagels, relieved her legs were working again. “I wish I’d known what to call him when he was running off with me,” she said.

“I don’t think it would have helped.”

“Probably not.”

They continued on in silence. Bagels pressed his muzzle against her neck every once and a while as though trying to make up and she patted him. The sound of the horses’ hooves against the rocks and the birds overhead began to meld together.

The adrenaline rush was gone and now she felt woozy, her feet like granite. “Tell me about this cave we’re going to,” she called, hoping for a diversion. “For starters, how much farther?”

“Well, you and Bagels very cleverly took us by a different route than the one I had planned,” he said, glancing at her over his shoulder, his gray eyes amused. “We’ll be coming in the back way now. I guess we’ll walk a half hour or so and then ride an hour.”

“It’s a distance, isn’t it?”

“I tried to warn you.”

“And when we get there?”

“We check the lock I put on the entrance.”

“What exactly was taken?”

“There’s no way to know for sure because the contents have never been documented. Apparently, the tribe that used the cave summered here in the high valley. When one of them died, their body was wrapped in blankets and laid to rest inside the cave where there are dozens of fissures. Sometimes amulets or relics of one kind or another were buried with them. My great-grandfather came across the cavern a long time ago and since then, we’ve all been caretaking it. About thirty years ago, my father made it clear we were all to stay away from it.”

“Did you?”

“Not really. My brothers and I just stopped telling him about our adventures. For the most part, we did respect the burial cavern. It was the prospecting shafts we mainly took an interest in, and they’re in the main cavern. We didn’t advertise our activities to Dad.

“Then last winter Pierce came back to the ranch when Cody was called away and I was hiking in Hawaii. Princess Analise showed up and for some reason they were both pretty vague about, he took her to the cave.”

“I read about a cave in the newspaper stories that followed their exploits. The article didn’t say anything about burials or relics.”

“That’s because we kept those facts to ourselves. But at that time, Pierce noticed activity. Since then, I’ve been keeping a closer eye.”

“Are these artifacts valuable?”

He shrugged. “Not overly so, not intrinsically, anyway. Nothing worth a fortune but none of it should have been lost. I’ve been asking my father to allow me to invite the university in to excavate and preserve the site for years, but he likes things the way they are.”

“So it’s on Open Sky land?”

“Absolutely. Our family has known about it for generations. I’m surprised Uncle Pete never mentioned it to you.”

“Is your father the chatty type?”

Adam laughed. “God, no.”

“Neither is Pete. I guess it runs in your family except now that I say that, you can talk when you want to.”

His lips twitched and he shook his head.

They climbed a series of rocks, their horses picking their way behind them. Adam turned every so often as if to see if she needed help. She made sure she didn’t. Her femme fatale episode was behind her now. Onward and upward.

He was quite a bit ahead of her when she noticed he’d stopped. Shading his eyes with one hand, he was peering up into the sky. “It’s getting late,” he called. “Let’s get to the top of this bluff and ride again. It’s a little rocky so go slow.”

“Slow is my new middle name,” she mumbled, and when she finally returned to the saddle, she did so with a smile on her face if not one in her gut. But Bagels seemed as happy as she was that the drama was over and plodded along behind Adam’s mount like a good horse.

“It’s over the next ridge,” he said at last. They’d actually climbed high enough that snow still existed in shady pockets of land and the temperature dropped. They were soon over the ridge and coming down the far side toward the mountain that was apparently their goal. Echo breathed in big gulps of pine-scented air and marveled that it didn’t seem so remote and lonely here after all.

It took her a second to notice Adam had stopped his horse dead in his tracks. She stopped as well, and for a second, admired the way Adam looked sitting in his saddle, the man and the horse in total harmony and striking against the green trees and brilliant blue sky. Eventually it occurred to her there was something ominous in the way he stared down the mountain. He was so still and vigilant…?.

It began to unnerve her. Even the birds seemed to have stopped chattering in the treetops and both horses stood with their ears perked forward.

Waiting…

Just when she was about to crack, Adam turned toward her. “Someone is down there.” His voice was very soft.

The leather saddle creaked as he leaned forward and unsnapped a strap on a long holster that held a rifle, although he didn’t take the weapon out of the scabbard.

Okay, this was unnerving. And exciting. Really, she’d been positive she’d die of boredom over the next twenty-four hours and already she’d survived a runaway horse, enjoyed some banter with a good-looking relative and now they were going to catch a grave robber.

“Adam?”

“Shh,” he said.

She lowered her voice. “I assume you’re talking about a bad guy?”

“I think the odds are pretty good. Come on, stay close to me.”

Try to get rid of me….

Maybe instead of cooking shows she should divert into true-life action documentaries. The construction of coq au vin, while interesting, didn’t get the pulse pounding like this…?.

They got off the horses again and walked them partway down the hill. Every twig they trod upon sounded like a thunderclap. Adam finally stopped at a flat spot and tied both horses to a tree. “That looks like an ATV down there. I’m going to check it out. You can stay with the horses.”

“That’s okay.” She fully intended to stay near the gun.

He pulled out the rifle and handled it as though he knew what he was doing. She crept along behind him.

The battered old scooterlike thing sported more rust than paint. It had obviously been parked in an out-of-the-way spot with some attempt at concealment. That kind of shouted nefarious goings-on to Echo, and her spine tingled between her shoulder blades.

He leaned in very close to her, one hand on her shoulder, his breath warm against her ear. The juxtaposition of this intimacy and the tension of the situation really set the sparks flying.

“I’m going to see who’s in that cave. I want to catch him red-handed.”

Me, too! she thought but didn’t say. No way am I missing this.

Where was a camera crew when you needed one?

More creeping through the trees until she finally saw where they were headed. Even she could tell the doorlike thing over the mouth of the cave was ajar.

“I’m going in,” he said, turning to her. She’d been plastered to his back so they ended up nose to nose. “You stay here. If you hear shots or see someone come running out of that cave, stay hidden behind these rocks. Don’t try to help me. Don’t try to stop them. Just hide.”

“I’m going with you,” she said.

“Just listen to me, will you?”

“Stop bossing me around.”

“I should have tied you up with the horses.” With that he slunk away.

She lost sight of him for a few minutes, then he emerged next to the cave opening. In an instant, he’d slipped inside.

How could she bear standing outside waiting for something to happen? Besides, he might need help.

She started slinking down the trail. When she heard a muffled sound coming from the cave, she broke into a run.

Chapter Three

The lock was neatly sawed in half.

Adam patted his pockets for his flashlight as he stole through the door, then stopped. Whoever was in here had already lit the wall torches. The light wasn’t great but it was good enough to make his way.

Last March, Pierce had told him that he had found fuel in the torches which he’d assumed Adam or Cody had put there. They hadn’t. After they had proof that the burial chamber had been violated, Adam had made a point of emptying them, but obviously someone had come along after him and filled them again.

Damn. This place was just too remote to adequately safeguard now that someone was intent on robbing it. His father would need to see this for what it was or three generations of Westin stewardship was going to be for nothing. Maybe this thief was going at it slowly, but sooner or later, greed would get the better of him and all this history would disappear forever.

But why now, why after all these years? Who knew about it and how had they found out? Who had told?

Adam paused for a second as a new sound came from the cavern up ahead. It sounded like rocks falling but not enough for an avalanche. Hugging the wall, he waited a few minutes. The sound continued but now he could tell it wasn’t falling rocks. He held the rifle down at his side, ready in case he caught someone unprepared and that someone panicked, but not anticipating he would need to use it.

The cave floor was rocky and sloped toward the large main cavern. Two main tunnels led from this cavern; one traveled on to the burial chamber. The other emptied into one of several prospecting shafts.

He paused for a few seconds near the rocks that would give him cover before turning into the main cavern. Then he slowly and methodically rounded the rocks.

The torches had been lit in this cavern, as well. The floor was covered with stalagmites; stalactites descended from the ceiling. This time of year, they dripped steadily, forming rivulets through the main cavern.

A man was working on the distant side, near the out-cropping that led to the burial chamber tunnel. He wielded a pickax, apparently breaking up the rocks to create a larger and more direct opening. His movements near one of the torches threw giant wild shadows onto the walls.

Adam’s fingers tightened on the rifle. He remembered the metal cart Pierce had discovered in this chamber. They’d talked about what it was used for—neither remembered it being there years before. Now Adam speculated that this man had hauled it here, probably during the winter months when Pierce found the tampered lock on the gate near the BLM lease land. It currently appeared this guy was widening the entrance of the tunnel so he could use the cart for the wholesale looting of the chamber.

Adam swallowed hard. The noise from the man’s activities undoubtedly masked Adam’s infuriated advance across the cave, but Adam almost welcomed a confrontation. He wanted to know who this bozo was, catch him and haul his ass into town for the sheriff to deal with.

Something of his presence must have filtered through the man’s consciousness. The pickax stopped midswing and he turned abruptly. He wore a big tan cowboy hat and a bandana up around his face all the way to his eyes like the old bandits in the television shows wore. Between his getup and the terrible quality of the torch light, it was impossible to tell who he was although he wasn’t a huge guy.

None of the Garvey men were very big. Could this be a brother of the late Lucas and Doyle? Since the Garveys blamed the Westins for their deaths, could they feel justified in robbing this cave? No wait, the looting had started before they died. Still, it was possible Lucas had heard something of its existence and passed it along to his family.

“Stop what you’re doing,” Adam yelled.

The pickax clattered to the rocks, but just as quickly, a shotgun appeared. Adam ducked to the side as a blast whizzed past him. Behind him, he heard a scream.

Adam turned and scanned the cavern as he threw himself behind a forest of stalagmites.

It had to be Echo. He couldn’t see her at first because she wasn’t at the entrance. She’d traveled halfway around the perimeter of the cavern and was close now to the mine shaft. The thief saw her too and let off a blast in her direction. Echo screamed again and disappeared from sight. The man charged the exit, leaving Adam with a split second to make a decision—he either found out if Echo was hurt or he followed the thief.

He knew what he wanted to do. He also knew what he had to do. With a sinking heart, he kept low but he needn’t have bothered—the thief’s footsteps rumbled against the earth as he ran up the tunnel toward freedom. Hopefully he’d be so hell-bent on escape that he wouldn’t take time to look for their horses. Otherwise, Echo—and he—were in for a long walk home.

ECHO LAY ON HER BACK IN THE pitch-black. Thoroughly winded, she wasn’t sure what had happened except she’d fallen, hard, landing on her back, and now was working just to catch her breath.

There wasn’t a single inch of her that didn’t throb in pain.

And she’d seen Adam so she knew he knew she was there and if she could have heard anything over her own pounding heart and sharp intakes of breath, she imagined it would be him coming to scold her.

That roused her enough to pat the damp ground around her. Rocks, gravel, dirt, some mud…

“Echo?”

Adam. “Did he get away?” Her voice was a croak.

“What do you think?”

A light flashed over her face and she winced. It appeared to originate about ten feet over her head and now that her eyes grew accustomed, she could see she’d fallen down a shaft. To make matters more humiliating, a ladder descended right next to her. Well, if she ever moved again, she could at least climb out of this hole by herself.

Except it wasn’t a hole. It was a tunnel. Narrow and shored up with boards, it disappeared into blackness after a few feet. It felt deep and dank and she was sure it was full of unimaginable horrors.

“Are you okay?”

Wasn’t that the second time he’d asked her that since they met again? “No,” she snapped, but found her breath came a little easier. “I’m fine, really. I’ll move in a minute.”

“I’ll come down—”

“No, please don’t. Throw me the flashlight—go after the bad guy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

The light spun toward her and she caught it with one hand by flexing her wrist. Not bad.

“I’ll be back very soon,” he called but she could already hear his rapid steps leading away from the hole. That was fine with her.

She stayed still for several more minutes, then wiggled various limbs and appendages to make sure everything still worked. Nothing appeared to be broken. Using the sides of the shaft and the ladder, she drew herself to her feet. A quick inspection with the flashlight revealed cuts and scrapes acquired on the way down, rips in her clothing, a little blood and swelling. She took a breath that hurt her ribs, but not as though they were fractured.

Now to climb the ladder.

That took a while, but eventually, she hauled herself out of the shaft and crawled onto the cave floor. Just in time, too, because a tall, dark shape was approaching and she was pretty sure it was Adam.

She sure as hell hoped it was Adam.

“Is that quivering mass of womanhood lying on the floor my little cousin Echo?” he said.

She made herself sit up. “Very funny.”

He bent at the knees next to her. “The bad news is he got away. The good news is he didn’t have time to scatter the horses so you don’t have to walk home.”

Instead, she got to ride Bagels the wonder horse who would probably lay back his ears and take off like the wind.

“You’re kind of quiet. Hurt anything?”

“Everything. I’m fine, though.”

“Good. While you contemplate standing and walking, I’m going to go see what damage that jerk did and figure out a way to keep this place safe tonight.”

“Do you know who it was?”

“No.” He stood and walked off in the direction the man had been attacking with a pick. She closed her eyes, tried her first actual deep breath and lived through it.

By the time he returned, she’d managed to get to her feet and hobble a ways toward the lighter oval that represented the way out of this cave. “Find anything?”

He held out his hand. Two charred red shotgun shells rested in his palm. “Aren’t you a little glad you fell when you did?”

She swallowed hard. “Yes. Did he take anything?”

Adam extinguished each torch as they left the cave. “The burial chamber looks relatively unchanged from a few weeks ago, but judging from what he was up to today, I think he’s getting ready for a major haul.”

Limping alongside him, she did what she knew she had to do. “Adam, I’m sorry. If I had stayed outside the cave like you asked me to, you might have found out who he is.”

“Hmm,” he said, looking down at her. “That thought crossed my mind, too.”

“On the other hand if you’d just let me come with you, none of this would have happened.”

He didn’t answer.

“Do you always have to do everything yourself?”

“Echo, I swear—”

“But it’s also possible,” she interrupted, “that if I hadn’t diverted his attention and drawn his fire, he might have shot at you again. I might have saved your life.”

“Honestly. If we weren’t related—”

“We’re not. Not in any way.”

“Well, maybe not technically…”

“Not in any way,” she repeated. “If we were, would I do this?” And with that she grabbed his arm, turned him to face her and kissed him.

He backed away at once. “What are you doing?”

“Just what you’ve been wanting to do since you ogled me in your driveway.”

His eyes grew wide, the whites glistening in the poor light. “You are certifiable, do you know that?”

“Maybe I’m just honest.”

He shook his head again and clutched her elbow with an iron grip. She would have liked shaking him off, but the support helped. After dousing the last torch in the cavern he spoke again. “So, did you strike gold on your little prospecting tour of the mine shaft?”

“I didn’t have time,” she grumbled, thoroughly self-conscious now that she’d given in to the impulse to kiss him. She wasn’t used to men backing away from her. He was acting like nothing had happened. She knew she should act the same but her pride was a little wounded.

It took a while, but eventually they made it to daylight. It was like being reborn, this coming out of the dark into the light through a small opening, and it felt pretty wonderful. Echo took the deepest breath she’d managed yet.

“How are you going to keep him out?” she asked as he looped the chain through the door.

“I reinforced the burial chamber exit but who knows how long that will work. First things first. You need a medic. Your backside is a bloody mess.”

“If I were him, I’d come back tonight while you’re all asleep.”

“He’s not ready yet,” Adam grumbled, and she let it drop.

The reality of her backside occupied almost every moment of the long return ride. Thankfully, Bagels plodded along as though bored with the whole thing until he smelled the other horses or recognized the trees—hard to say how he knew they were home, but he did. His pace picked up, she bounced around harder and through it all, clenched her teeth and didn’t utter a single sound. By the time she slithered out of the saddle in the ranch yard, she was pretty sure she deserved a Purple Heart.

Pauline appeared on the large porch with a yellow Lab wagging its tail by her legs. Maybe the intervening years had grayed the housekeeper’s red curls, but Echo thought she would have recognized her kind face and compassionate eyes anywhere.

Pauline opened her arms as she hurried down the stairs. “Echo De Gris, I heard you were here. Just look at you. You’re all grown-up and looking more like your mother, God rest her soul, than ever. Stay down, Bonnie,” she added, directing her comment to the dog. To Echo, she added, “Come here, honey.”

Echo cautiously shied away from Pauline’s hug and the dog’s enthusiastic greeting with an apologetic smile punctuated by a wince or two.

“What happened to you?” Pauline demanded, eyes narrowing as she took a good look at Echo’s hair and clothes and the smudges and scratches and dirt. “Turn around. Merciful heavens. You’re home a few hours and you get yourself all banged up just like you always did. Or did Adam have something to do with this?”

Adam held up both hands. “Don’t look at me. Echo still has a flair for the dramatic. After I unsaddle the horses, I need to talk to Dad. Where is he?”

“Still out working on the mowers with Jamie and Pete and Cody.” Pauline waved Adam away and turned her attention back to Echo. “Come along, young lady, we need to get you cleaned up and bandaged before supper, though Lord knows what time of the night those men will actually come in to eat it.”

ADAM STOOD AT THE WINDOW and looked out at the moon-drenched silvery landscape. His stomach felt like it was full of snakes and he had his father’s obstinacy to blame for it.

He’d moved into his new house when the weather got warm although there was no time to work on fine-tuning the interior and wouldn’t be for several months. Nevertheless, he’d hauled in furniture and made himself a home, anxious to be on his own.

Ranching had cycles, all geared to market day in October when the season’s calves would be sold. Everything else worked up to and around that. After market, there would still be a million things to do as the winter progressed—fences and machinery maintenance and all the rest required constant vigil. Then they’d move the herd closer to the ranch as calving season approached—the actual grueling weeks of hundreds of cows giving birth, many of them first-time mothers or heifers who needed more help than the experienced animals—followed by moving the herd up to the high pastures for the summer, while mowing the organic grass and hay they would need to feed the cattle when the pastures froze during the winter. Buying good feed because you ran out of your own could eat up profit like crazy.

On and on it went. Since the beef was certified organic, each animal needed to be cared for in a more hands-on approach; scour and other maladies that befell newborn calves needed monitoring without massive or hit-and-miss doses of antibiotics. It all took extra time.

And his father had agreed to give it an all-out effort, respecting Adam’s research and passion about the direction to take with the herd. Adam deeply appreciated this sign of faith.

On the other hand, the old man wouldn’t give on the cave. He was stubbornly holding on to the idea that bigger, stronger locks would solve everything and the Westin men could safeguard an extinct peoples’ earthly remains forever.

Adam pushed himself away from the windowsill and tried lying down on his new mattress. He was usually comfortable being alone, although tonight he kept thinking about what Echo had said about him resembling a damn Bowerbird. He’d looked it up on the computer after supper—she was right, those birds really went to the extreme. Built elaborate nests for the sole purpose of attracting a sexual mate. Wham, bam, his job was over, the female went her merry way and he waited until the next female bird took a fancy to his nest.

But Adam Westin was not a bird. He was a man and if she couldn’t tell the difference—

But he thought she could. There had been a few moments today when he’d felt the overwhelming femininity of her colliding against him; he’d had to force himself to remember this wasn’t another pretty girl, this was his uncle’s stepdaughter. Worse, she was a television producer. What in the hell did a cowboy and television producer have in common?

How about that kiss?

No, she hadn’t meant that. She was just toying with him. She liked to make him squirm, that’s all that was.

He was soon back at the window, fidgeting with the blinds he’d installed, thinking maybe if the room was darker—

What had Echo said? Something about how if she was the looter, she’d come back tonight.

What did she know?

He heard a far-off motor, thought he saw indistinct shapes moving through the trees; it even looked like a horse was down there on the far side of the lake.

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head and everything disappeared except the feeling that he shouldn’t be locked inside this house, he should be at that cave. If Echo was right, he’d never forgive himself…?.

Or her, for that matter.

Fifteen minutes later, dressed and armed with his trusty hunting rifle, he rode out of his barn.

Chapter Four

He skirted the calm lake, traveling the moonlight-dappled trail at a steady gait. Now that he’d made the decision to go, he cursed the hours he’d wasted after their late supper.

Echo hadn’t shared the male-only meal. Pauline explained she and Echo had eaten hours earlier and Echo had begged off visiting that night in favor of nursing her wounds. He would have liked to see her—since the moment he’d left her side, she’d been ever present in his mind. He found her combination of audacity and humor both annoying and interesting. The Westin household could at times be pretty darn somber.

There’d been a couple of years when things had been different at the Open Sky. Right after Cody married Cassie and brought her home, every corner of the big place had suddenly filled with light. Cassie was a beauty with tumbling fair hair and angelic blue eyes, and the way she and Cody had looked at one another had made Adam curious about the kind of love that blossomed into a lifetime promise. He’d enjoyed their interactions, he’d been amused by his father’s more frequent smiles. Cassie even managed to win over Pauline who was pretty damn territorial when it came to her kitchen and household. But Cassie was like that. Easy to like, full of kindness.

At least at first. And then she’d grown increasingly quiet and concurrently, Cody had retreated inside himself. It was obvious their marriage was in trouble.

It culminated at last in a macabre reenactment of the past. Cassie left the ranch just as Adam’s mother had done decades before her. At first it had seemed she’d just be gone a few days, but time had passed and she’d just not come back.

Afterward? After Cassie left? It was obvious to Adam that Cody was determined to find her. Maybe it was because their father hadn’t tried to find their mother that he became obsessed with it. He’d hired a detective he thought no one knew about, and Adam was pretty sure it was a call from that detective that had made Cody call Pierce home months before.

Love hadn’t been kind to the Westin men, although Pierce swore his own tragedies that had included a ruined marriage had lifted the moment he met Princess Analise Emille. Adam hoped the passion he saw between them would burn forever; it worried him that his brother had chosen to share a ranching life with a woman raised in a castle of all places…?.

And yet she seemed tough under all that refined glamour, and very sure of what and who she was. What more could anyone give than the truth of their essence?

Careful, he warned himself. You don’t want to become one of those damn cowboy poets.

He urged the horse onward. Solar Flare knew the trails as well as he did—both of them could travel in near dark. Without Echo and Bagels to create a diversion, the route they traveled was a lot faster. Within an hour he was close enough to the cave to slow down lest thundering hoofbeats alert someone—if anyone was out here to alert.

Solar Flare appeared to understand the concept of tiptoeing or so it seemed to Adam as he led him along the path. The valley where a long-extinct Native American tribe had presumably summered hundreds of years before was full of shadows; the cave mouth was a short climb up the mountain face and, as luck would have it, located on the side of the mountain illuminated by the moon.

Still, unfortunately, it was impossible to tell if the covering door to the cave stood ajar. Too many shadows. He’d have to go up there and look.

He tied Solar Flare to a tree before proceeding down the hillside toward the valley. His plan was to skirt the flat areas and climb the mountain hugging the shadows. This time he’d have his rifle ready.

If the lily-livered thief was currently inside the cave busily looting his greedy little heart out, maybe there was a better way of catching him, one that wouldn’t result in more gunfire. How about guarding the cave entrance, calling Cody on his cell to get together a few guys and come on out here? Call the sheriff, too. Hell, the more the merrier.

On the other hand, the very act of disturbing the artifacts was a sacrilege and if left to do as he pleased, the thief would undoubtedly strip the burial cave clean before daybreak. He might not get out if Adam guarded the door, but the damage would be done.

A movement in the bushes ahead settled matters. The thief apparently hadn’t made it to the cave yet. If Adam could get the drop on him, he could launch a surprise attack and bundle the culprit off Open Sky. By dawn he’d be back to work and this would be over with.

All these thoughts raced through Adam’s mind as he crept down the dark side of the hill, glad the moonlight wasn’t directly overhead to give away his position. Every few seconds he stopped to listen, alarmed when he no longer heard movement. Had the thief detected Adam’s approach?

The question was answered an instant later when Adam felt the barrel of a gun jab into the middle of his back. Damn, he’d been made.

“Drop the rifle.”

The voice was muffled. Adam flashed on the bandana the thief wore over the lower part of his face; that explained the voice…?.

“I said drop it.”

Adam slowly lowered the rifle to the ground at his side. When the thief unexpectedly leaned over to pick it up, Adam seized the moment. Turning on the balls of his feet, he tackled the man.

Clutched together, they tumbled down the sloping land, Adam’s rifle abandoned behind. The guy wasn’t very big or strong though he threw some decent punches and with both hands, which meant he must have lost his weapon, too. After a few moments of wrestling and grunting, Adam pinned the guy to the ground and sat on him, keeping a forearm across his throat. They were both breathing heavy.

Gradually, it occurred to Adam that something was wrong.

He tried to blink into focus the pale oval face beneath his but the light was miserable. He felt for the bandana but it must have come off in the struggle and his fingers grazed slick lips. The click of teeth warned he’d come close to getting bitten. He loosened his stranglehold. “Who the hell—”

“Are you trying to kill me?” his victim demanded.

“Not yet. Not until I find out who you are.”

There was a long pause followed by a whispered, “Adam? Is that you?”

A waft of some kind of fruity scent hit his nose at the same time he realized the slippery substance he’d felt on his fingertips was lipstick. Echo!

How could he have not known he was sitting on a woman? Now that he did, everything about her was obvious, from her breasts pressed between his knees to the softness of her throat under his fingers…

He drew both hands back. “Are you okay?”

“Please stop asking me that.”

“Maybe if you could go more than a couple hours without throwing yourself under a bus, I would.”

“Move. You’re heavy.”

“I don’t know if I should. You’re a walking, talking menace.” He said this as he moved off her. On his knees by her side, he offered a hand, which she must have seen as she took it. They sat face-to-face in the dark.

He took a deep breath. “What are you doing out here?”

“The same thing you’re obviously doing.”

“But you were injured.”

“Pauline is a whiz with bandages and antiseptic.”

He shifted his weight off a sore leg. “Why in the world did you think it was a good idea to jab a gun against my spine?”

“I thought you were the bad guy. You were making a lot of noise—”

“I was not.”

“Oh, please. How do you think a greenhorn like me managed to get the drop on you?”

“Judging from everything I’ve seen since you got here, I’d say dumb, blind luck.”

“You wish.”

“Where did you get a gun, anyway?”

She was quiet for a second. “Well, it wasn’t really a gun.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“It was a stick.”

“You stuck a stick in an armed man’s back?”

“More like a branch. I thought you were his partner…”

Adam’s heart skipped a beat. “His partner? Whose partner? You mean you saw someone else out here?”

“Yes. I think—”

Her voice broke off as he grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. “Where?” he insisted. “When?”

“On the mountain, right before I heard you coming.”

“At the cave?”

“He was climbing…?.”

He dropped her arm. “And then you and I made a huge ruckus fighting our way down the slope. He couldn’t have missed hearing that.”

“I suppose—”

“Which means he’ll come investigate.”

The flare of her sudden anxiety charged the still air between them like a downed electrical wire. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe he’ll just leave.”

“Maybe not.”

“Let’s go find your rifle.”

“My idea exactly.” When their hands brushed, he grabbed her fingers. Best to keep her close so she didn’t go off on a tangent and get them both killed.

They climbed the slope as quietly as they could, stopping every few feet to feel for signs of broken bushes to confirm they were going the right direction. The light was slightly brighter headed uphill; a flashlight would have helped a lot but no way was Adam going to risk that.

“I need both hands,” she whispered, and broke away. After a few seconds during which he came across his jackknife which must have tumbled out his pocket unnoticed, she added, “I found the branch I used. Your rifle has to be somewhere nearby.”

The words had no sooner passed her lips when gunfire sounded from the valley and a piece of the bark—on a tree less than five feet away from Adam’s head—flew off and hit him on the cheek. The gunman had found them in the shifting moonlight. Even Adam could see Echo down on all fours patting the ground. Just as she found his rifle, another shot sounded.

“Stay down,” he hollered right before the impact of a bullet spun him to the ground. He grabbed his left shoulder. Blood seeped through his fingers. “Echo! Where are you? Find cover!”

He lay still, hoping she hadn’t been hit, as well. She’d been up the slope, behind him, but he couldn’t locate her exact whereabouts now without sitting up and he wasn’t going to do that.

And then he heard noise. Steps, breaking plants, broken twigs… Someone was coming up the hill toward them.

“Stop right there!” Echo hollered, her voice closer than Adam had figured. “Stop or I’ll shoot.” Without waiting, she let loose with the weapon.

The noise was deafening. Adam squeezed himself into the ground, willing himself to shrink and praying Echo kept the gun barrel high enough to miss him. He could imagine how terrified she was—damn, he was just as terrified but mostly of her…?.

He closed his eyes. If the unknown gunman kept advancing while being on the receiving end of Echo’s volley, he couldn’t be too big a chicken.

It seemed to go on and on in a distant fading way. Adam felt himself drifting. He was glad for the warm earth beneath him as hell raged overhead.

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