Colton's Lethal Reunion (Coltons of Mustang Valley)

Knowing he was safe was an even better one.

If she took too long deciding, the SUV could come right back down and trap them—run them off the road. It could turn into a shoot-out that most definitely wouldn’t end well. Most particularly if they’d retrieved a stash of weapons.

She knew she was after Odin’s people, but didn’t know if he was with them.

She didn’t just want them.

She was going to bring him in.

She was going to get Tyler—and now Grant and Lavinia Alvin—the justice they deserved.

Putting the truck in gear, she tried to back up. And then to move forward. Rafe told her to try low gear. He gave her a couple of other suggestions and every one of them just dug them in deeper. The truck was too heavy for the damp, dew-soaked earth.

“We’re going to have to continue on foot,” she told

him. “Find a place to hole up where they can’t find us. Wait it out until the chief gets out here.”

She didn’t like the plan at all. Couldn’t stand to feel like a sitting duck. Nor did she want to fail because of a truck in a ditch.

But she wasn’t going to risk Rafe’s life. Period.

Pulling out her phone she prayed for service, and was denied that blessing, as well.

“Come on,” she said, getting out and closing her door softly behind her. Leading the way, she kept her body pressed to the mountain, gun out in front of her, and continued upward, Rafe right behind her. So close he was touching her.

Not holding on. Not pushing. Just there. In contact.

If she had to die, she couldn’t think of a better way. On the job. Closing the most important case of her life. And touching Rafe.

Up until the part where if she died, and he was right there, probably so would he.

They climbed that way for fifteen minutes or more, taking each step quietly, placing their feet carefully, keeping the mountain as cover, slipping behind ridges that protected them from view of the road whenever they could.

Kerry didn’t speak, and Rafe followed suit, just as he’d said he would.

At one point, when she turned her head to look behind them, bringing her face almost nose to nose with his, he leaned forward and kissed her. Not a peck. A deep, albeit quick, kiss. He didn’t explain himself. She didn’t ask questions. But it was like he’d given her some strange shot of energy.

A reason to go on. As if she needed one.

She was this close to getting Odin Rogers; she wasn’t going to fail.

* * *

Kerry saw the SUV first. Of course, being in front, she would, but she stopped so suddenly his body pushed into hers. He held on. With the arm that wasn’t holding his rifle, he held her back to his front, and looked where she was pointing, her gun in her hand. The SUV appeared to have veered off the road, with its front bumper protruding into the side of the mountain.

“Going too fast,” Kerry said. Rafe agreed with her assessment. Was this a good sign that the men they were pursuing had crashed due to excessive speed?

“They could be hurt,” he whispered back. Just wanting to stand there, holding her, until help arrived. Not out of fear for himself, but with every step she took out there, she risked losing her life. He just needed to know she was safe.

That’s what she hadn’t understood—twenty-three years ago, or even now, apparently. He loved her so much that protecting her mattered more than his own happiness—and still did.

“No one’s slumped over the wheel. If they could move, they’d get out of there,” she said softly. “They could be on the other side of the SUV. Come on.” Taking his hand, she pushed him back the way they’d come until she could turn around and lead them both around the side of a hill and up, moving farther back into the mountain range as they climbed. Rafe watched her back, her front and all around them, prepared to use his rifle as a bat as much as anything. “We need a better vantage point,” she said when they were far enough from the road to allow conversation.

Still, she kept her voice soft, almost a whisper. They had no idea how many people might be on the mountain. Or where.

Ten minutes more of mostly vertical hiking and they’d reached a small peak. Lying on her belly, Kerry pulled herself forward, gun in front of her nose, to the edge of the peak and looked downward.

She whispered, “I’ve got you, Odin.” Four simple words. And filled with world-changing promise. That was the moment he understood just how completely Kerry meant what she said.