Appalachian Abduction. Debbie Herbert
pretty new here. Everyone else will have more experience. Don’t you want the full resources the sheriff’s office can provide?”
Hell, yeah. No question. Charlotte gazed out the passenger window, where shadows already lengthened with a hint of the coming twilight. To his credit, James didn’t press her as she weighed the pros and cons of telling him everything. But it wasn’t much of a choice, really. She had a bum leg now, and she’d been seen by the bodyguards who were obviously protecting the traffickers.
“I do need your help,” she admitted. “But if you go to the sheriff, he’ll contact my boss for verification of my story, and then all hell will break loose.”
James’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re on the up-and-up, what’s the problem?”
“I’ve been suspended.” There, she’d said it. Six years of exemplary service, and now she was in the hot seat. James would think she was a total screwup.
He pulled into the cabin’s driveway, shut off the engine and faced her, arms folded. “Why?”
She jerked her head from his piercing gaze and stared down at her folded hands. “Because I won’t give up on this case. That’s why. The official charge against me is insubordination.”
“Go on,” he urged at the beat of silence between them.
Charlotte lifted her head. Officer Tedder had been more than patient. He could have arrested her for trespassing, or even decided she was too much trouble and not searched for her after she’d fled. But he’d found her and coaxed her into getting help for her injury. A good man, she decided. Perhaps even a trustworthy one. She’d been burned before, but mostly, her gut and intuition had served her well in a dangerous profession.
“Can we talk somewhere other than here? Sitting in the open in your truck is an invitation for trouble.” Her stomach churned as she remembered the black sedan with tinted windows that had cruised through town.
He countered with a question of his own. “Is this where you run from me again?”
“No running. You can follow me in my truck while I get a motel room, or we can go in your cabin to talk.”
James drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “My cabin. I’ll park my truck behind yours. No casual observer passing by would notice it. Probably safer than you spending the night at the local motel with your vehicle in plain view, anyway.”
“Agreed.”
He drove across the yard and parked behind her rental truck. Charlotte opened her door and eased onto the ground, putting most of her weight on her left leg. If it came down to another chase by land, she was doomed.
They walked across the yard, but try as she might, a low hiss of pain escaped her lips as she started up the porch steps. James placed a hand on her right forearm, and she leaned into his strength, hobbling across the wooden porch.
Damn if it wasn’t heaven to feel his strong muscles taut and solid against her. For the first time since arriving at Lavender Mountain, Charlotte felt safe and protected. Not an emotional luxury she often indulged in with her line of work.
James frowned at the broken door frame as he ushered her inside. “Stay here while I check the cabin,” he murmured, setting down the jug of sassafras tea from Miss Glory.
She nodded, grateful. Ordinarily that kind of take-command attitude by male coworkers annoyed her, but he was the only one around with a gun and two good legs. And he was her best hope for rescuing Jenny.
* * *
“ALL’S CLEAR,” JAMES ANNOUNCED, returning to the den and placing the gun in his holster. “And I closed the back bedroom window you opened earlier this morning. You remember, the one you crawled out to run from me.”
Charlotte nodded, making no apologies, and limped to the couch. Instead of collapsing into an exhausted heap, she settled in primly, back straight and feet crossed at the ankles.
What a striking woman. In the dark shadows, her hair glowed like sun fire and her eyes gleamed with intelligence, determination and...sorry to say, still a trace of wariness. Not that he blamed her for the mistrust. She’d most likely seen the worst of human nature, just as he had in Afghanistan.
He picked up the jug of tea and strode to the kitchen, where he located a glass in the near-empty cabinets. Miss Glory’s tonic was purported to do wonders, and he hoped it lived up to its hype. He added ice to the glass and poured the pale, caramel-colored drink. Charlotte was being damn foolish about treating her injuries, but he couldn’t force her to accept medical attention. A wry smile twitched the edges of his mouth. He imagined Charlotte Helms could be mighty stubborn when it came to changing her mind.
That was okay—he could be as damn stubborn as Charlotte, and he meant to draw out everything from her about this case. The greatest lesson he’d learned in the military was to work with others as a team. It enhanced the chance of success for any mission. He preferred a quiet, solitary life these days, but when it came to his new job, he was all about teamwork.
James returned to the den. “Drink up,” he ordered, handing Charlotte the glass. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Where are you going?”
“To get my tool kit.”
And his tablet, because he wasn’t letting this woman out of sight again. While she slept tonight, he’d double-check her story. Insomnia came in handy every now and then.
James scanned the yard and then strode to his truck, retrieving the toolbox, the tablet, a box of crackers and a cooler packed with water bottles. Another thing the military had taught him was to be prepared. The water and crackers would satisfy their basic needs for the evening, but he longingly recalled the smell of fried chicken and mashed potatoes at the Dixie Diner. Tomorrow he’d go back and eat his fill at the lunch buffet.
Inside, Charlotte sipped tea and raised a brow. “Quite an armful. You must have been a Boy Scout.”
“Lucky for you. What did Miss Glory whisper to you back at the shop?”
She blinked at the sudden question. “I couldn’t understand what she muttered. Her Southern accent’s pretty strong.”
Again, he suspected she wasn’t truthful, but in this instance, it didn’t matter. Not in the grand scheme of things. He let it go. “What do you think of Miss Glory’s tea?”
“Has a licorice taste. I like it. Either that, or I’m really thirsty. You believe in this stuff?”
“People who refuse standard medical treatment can hardly complain.”
A surprised chuckle escaped her lips, and her eyes sparkled. “Touché.”
James nearly dropped the supplies in his hand. He’d known she was attractive—that was plain to any fool—but when she smiled? Stunning.
Charlotte’s eyes widened and their teal hue deepened. The space between them grew electric, humming with energy. He swallowed hard and turned away, setting down the supplies and then gripping his hammer like a lifeline. Sexual attraction was the last thing he needed in this sticky situation.
“I don’t have replacement hardware, but I can nail up this door and make do for tonight. That is, if you still want to stay here?”
“You’ll let me stay?” Her voice was husky, and she cleared her throat. “Thank you.”
“For now. Unless your safety becomes compromised. First thing in the morning, we’ll—”
“We? I don’t need you to stay with me.”
“You think I’d leave you alone out here?” He might be reluctant to get involved with people, but he always did the right thing. Or tried to. “As I was saying, at dawn, we’ll get my four-wheeler, and you can show me where you were shot at.”
She slowly nodded. “Like I said, I don’t need your protection,