Holiday Mountain Conspiracy. Liz Shoaf
“N-no. I couldn’t hear anything above the noise of the snowmobile.” She glanced toward the darkened stairwell. “Was she hurt in the blast?”
“Her name is Mary Grace Ramsey. I found her in a ravine with a gunshot wound well before the bomb was detonated.” He rushed out an explanation when Fran’s face paled. “She’s fine. Just a flesh wound.”
His niece lifted big blue eyes full of love that sent an arrow straight to his heart. “Uncle Ned, are you in trouble? I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”
“Aw, come here, lassie.” He folded her in his arms, then placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back, looking straight into her eyes. “Now havenae I always come back home in one piece?”
She grinned, and he was glad to see it. “Your accent always shows itself when you’re emotional.”
“Aye, that it does.” He grinned and stepped back. “Now, let’s get off this mountain.”
Mary Grace cleared the top step. The dog carrier was strapped to the front of her body and she winced as she slid the straps of her backpack over her shoulders. “I’m all for that,” she said, and gave him a look, practically daring him to mention her wound. “I’ll be fine and I’m ready to leave. I left my car at the base of the mountain.”
Ned led the way to the front door, but came to a grinding halt when he heard a sharp bark behind him and his niece squealed. “You have a dog! What a precious little thing.”
Waiting for both women to come up behind him on the front porch, Ned scanned the frozen tundra surrounding them, but he didn’t sense the presence of another human being. He’d checked a half-mile perimeter around the cabin and at the front of the structure found the remnants of a simple bomb. It had an attachment that appeared as if the device had been detonated remotely. Whoever tried to kill them had left the mountain. He felt it in his gut.
“Stay close.”
He heard Mary Grace grumble to Fran behind him. “Your uncle is certainly a man of few words.”
Fran whispered, “He wasn’t always this way.”
Ned sent her a sharp look over his shoulder and Fran zipped her lips. He pulled the shed door open and started checking his snowmobile.
Mary Grace sidled next to him. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure no one has tampered with my equipment.”
Her eyes rounded and she didn’t ask any more questions, which suited him just fine. He’d talked more since meeting her than he had in a long time.
“Fran, you’ll take your snowmobile. I’ll strap Krieger in behind you. Mary Grace can ride with me. I’ll take the lead, but you stay close. I want to get you back to your mother safe and sound.”
“But, Uncle Ned—”
He interrupted what he knew was coming. Fran and Sylvia were always at odds these days, and normally he would try to help, but now was not the time.
His voice was loving, but firm. “We’ll talk later.”
Everything checked out, so he fired up the snowmobile and motioned for Mary Grace to hop on. He didn’t miss her wince of pain as she threw her leg over the seat.
“Hold on tight.”
She placed her arms around his waist and Ned felt an unfamiliar warmth at her touch. He attributed it to the fact that he hadn’t dated or even been around many women in the last few years. Ignoring the sensation, he pulled in front of the cabin. Fran was already seated on her snowmobile and ready to ride. She’d strapped Krieger in herself.
Ned took two helmets from the side of his snowmobile and handed one to Mary Grace. When they were both ready, he took off and Fran followed closely.
If he were still a praying man, he would have sent up a quick prayer for their safety, but he’d learned not to trust anyone but himself, and that included a God who allowed good people to get hurt.
It didn’t take long to reach the bottom of the mountain, but fortune wasn’t on his side. They pulled to a stop beside Mary Grace’s car and there stood Sheriff Jack Hoyt, his arms crossed over his chest. Ned cut the engine and helped Mary Grace off the back of the sled. Fran was already off her snowmobile and came to stand beside Ned.
Ned nodded at the lawman. “Sheriff.”
Sheriff Hoyt nodded back. “Ned.”
He heard Mary Grace grumble. “What is it with this town? Do all the men speak in one-syllable words?”
Ned ignored her and watched the sheriff. He didn’t have time for any delays or long explanations. He hoped the mountain and snow had muffled the blast enough that it hadn’t been heard in Jackson Hole.
Hoyt’s brows lifted as he nodded at Fran, then focused on Mary Grace. “Saw your vehicle on the side of the road and figured you’d decided to try to find Ned.”
To her credit, Mary Grace pasted on a friendly smile and her explanation didn’t leave any openings for questions. “I sure did, and I appreciate all your help.”
Hoyt turned to Fran. “Didn’t know you were familiar with Ned.”
Taking her cue from Mary Grace, Fran grinned at the sheriff. “I’ve seen him around a few times.”
Ned slowly released the breath he’d been holding. His family understood he didn’t want anyone in Jackson Hole to know he was related to them for their own safety. One day his past might catch up with him.
Hoyt leveled a disbelieving look at the three of them, but cracked a grin when Mary Grace’s dog stuck its head out of the pouch and barked. The sheriff moved close and rubbed its fluffy white head.
“Aw, what a cute dog. I have one of my own. Left him at the station today.”
Hoyt stepped back and gave them all a hard look. “So everything is okay here?”
Ned’s gut clenched when Mary Grace gave the sheriff a wide, welcoming grin.
“Absolutely,” she said, “and I’m sorry for leaving my car on the side of the road. Ned’s driveway was impassable, so I hiked to his cabin. Well, we’ll just be on our way now. I’m sure you’d like to get back to the station where it’s warm.”
Hoyt gave them one last lingering look, nodded and folded his long frame into his patrol car.
Maybe living alone on his mountain hadn’t been a good idea, because when Mary Grace gave that warm, gracious smile to the sheriff, Ned wanted to strangle the guy.
Maybe he’d been isolated for too long and it had affected his brain.
Mary Grace hunched over the steering wheel in her rental car as she followed the two snowmobiles in front of her. Ned had said Fran lived several miles away.
She checked the heater to make sure it was on full blast. She’d never been so cold in her life. She’d take the sticky, sweet humidity in Georgia any day over these bone-chilling temperatures.
She couldn’t imagine Ned living all alone on that isolated mountain. But maybe not completely alone. She now knew he had a sister and a niece. They evidently visited periodically. When she awoke that morning, she assumed he was all alone, because why in the world would anyone choose to live sequestered in complete isolation?
Tinker Bell growled when Krieger stuck his massive head between the bucket seats.
“It’s okay, Tink. Krieger just wants to be friends.”
Tink growled one more time for good measure and Krieger disappeared into the back seat. The dogs reminded