Colorado Wildfire. Cassie Miles
“Don’t tell anyone you saw me today.”
Vertical worry lines creased between his brows. “That’s asking a lot, brother. Those guys you shot are going to mention the mystery rifleman. And the forensic investigators are going to find bullets from the rifle.”
Wade nodded toward the gun on the ground. “There it is. You can say that you were using it.”
“You got it from the safe house, didn’t you?”
“The rifle and two handguns,” Wade said dismissively. There were more important issues at stake. Yes, he’d breached the sanctity of a federal safe house. So what? The place was never used. “I’m asking you for twenty-four hours. By nightfall tomorrow, I’ll know what I need to do.”
“I knew you spent the night in the safe house. As soon as I walked through the door, I could see that the dust on the floor had been disturbed.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, and I ran water in the sink. And I ate a can of beans, left a dirty cup and messed up the sheets in the bedroom. Sue me.” He heard a tiny click as the lock on his cuffs sprang open. “I need you to focus. Will you give me twenty-four hours?”
“If you can convince Sam, I’ll do it.”
Wade wished he was more sure of himself as he watched Samantha hike up the hill and stand beside Ty. Turning her profile to Wade, she spoke to his friend.
“My dispatcher contacted police and ambulance services in Glenwood Springs. They said they’d be here in half an hour, but I’m guessing it’ll take longer. We need to do as much first aid as we can.”
“I’ll work on the guy by the sedan. And I’ll get a tarp from your SUV to throw over Morrissey’s body. His lieutenant is on his way. He’ll want to see that we’re showing respect.”
“Even if Morrissey doesn’t deserve it,” Wade put in.
“Truer words never spoken.” Ty backed down the hill. “I’m going to leave you two alone now.”
Her thumbs hooked in her belt, she tilted her head down and stared at the buffalo grass beneath her boots. She’d left her hat in the SUV, and he noticed that her braided chestnut-brown hair wasn’t as shiny as it used to be. Still beautiful but a little bit thin, her hair looked as if she hadn’t been able to spend much time taking care of it. Managing the responsibilities of the sheriff’s office was a lot of work.
A new wave of guilt splashed over him. Though he’d made sure that all her bills would be paid, he’d left her with a lot of loose ends. “Samantha?”
Her lower lip stuck out in a pout. “What?”
Her features weren’t as tense as they’d been before. The deep sorrow had faded. The anger was gone, too. With a shock, he realized that he couldn’t read her mood. They used to be in perfect harmony, perfect understanding. He’d lost that connection.
“Samantha, look at me.”
She slanted a gaze in his direction. “I don’t know what to do.”
He swung his arms apart and made a grand gesture to show the cuffs dangling from his left wrist with the right side completely free.
“Ta-da!” He jumped to his feet. Like a magician, he took a bow. “The Great Wade has escaped the surly bonds.”
Her blue eyes twinkled as though she was about to laugh. Instead, her chest heaved and a harsh sob exploded through her lips. In reaction, she slapped her hands over her mouth.
He caught her before she could run away from him. Gently, he peeled her hands away from her face and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. Her mouth trembled as she held back tears.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “Everything is going to be all right.”
Sobs overwhelmed her. He gathered her close and cuddled her against his chest, holding her shoulders while she poured out a torrent of tears. He patted her shoulders and stroked her hair, her silky-soft hair that smelled of flowery shampoo in spite of the fire and the smoke.
More than anything, he wanted to tell her that he loved her. This was the wrong time, too soon. And he was scared. Wade Calloway wasn’t afraid of much. He was tough enough to take on a dozen rotten cops and a drug cartel, but he knew that Samantha could destroy him. If she denied his love or had given up on loving him, he might as well be dead.
“I have to go,” he whispered to her. Ty had mentioned an officer with the state patrol was on his way, and then there would be the ambulances.
“I know.” Her deep shuddering sobs had subsided to sniffles. Using his shirt, she wiped her face. “I heard some of the stuff you were telling Ty. You want to keep up the pretense that you’re dead.”
“And if the wrong people know I’m still alive and kicking, you and Jenny could be threatened.” Her nose was red, and her cheeks were puffy from crying, but he thought she looked adorable. “You can’t tell anybody you saw me. Within twenty-four hours, I’ll have this straightened out.”
With her right hand, she reached behind her back. Keeping her voice low so Ty wouldn’t overhear, she showed Wade his fancy Colt .45 with copper-inlaid handle. “I found this in the car with Morrissey, and I’m guessing it was put there to throw suspicion on you.”
“Good guess.” He took the gun from her and stuck it into his belt at the small of his back. “You kept this gun locked up at the house, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “They must have broken in to get it.”
A thief had violated the home he and Samantha had built together, their sanctuary, the house where their daughter slept. “Did you notice the break-in?”
She shook her head. “Half the time I leave the doors unlocked.”
“That stops now,” he said. “You can’t trust anyone. Understand? Not anyone.”
“What about Ty?”
Much as he hated to cast suspicion on his friend, Wade would rather err by being too cautious. “Trust him but keep your guard up.”
“Of course I would. Ty told me a whopper of a lie about my husband being killed in the Roaring Fork River. Oh, wait, you told me that very same lie.” Her bloodshot eyes narrowed. “Can I trust you, Wade?”
“I’ll make this up to you. I promise.”
“Not what I want to hear.” She gripped the front of his plaid flannel shirt with both hands and pulled him close. “You need to listen to me, listen hard. You’ve spent a year trying to handle this by yourself. Don’t make that mistake again.”
“What do you mean?”
“You need me.” She released his shirt and stepped back. “You need my help.”
She was right. During the past year, Samantha had proved she was capable of taking care of herself, their child and the entire population of Swain County.
He couldn’t ask for a better partner.
Sam’s first-aid kit was suitable for scraped knees and poison-ivy rashes. Not life-threatening injuries. She knelt beside the unconscious man with the shoulder wound, which she had managed to bandage while still keeping his hands cuffed behind his back.
Wade had slipped out of his cuffs easily, which was as she’d expected. Arresting him was more of a symbolic gesture, a way of showing him that she refused to be ignored and would never be kept out of the loop again.
She still couldn’t believe it. Her husband was back. He was alive. She wiped the smile from her face and tamped down her sense memory of how his arms felt when he embraced