Buried Mountain Secrets. Terri Reed

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      “You’ll never make the summit before dark,” Leslie told him with worry in her voice.

      “I have to check something,” he said. “Let the sheriff know.”

      Though concern showed on her face, she nodded. “Be careful.” She turned her horse and moved back down the trail.

      Alex urged Truman, as quickly as he dared in the waning light, back to the place where he’d seen evidence that someone had gone off the trail. He dismounted and dropped the reins, letting them hit the ground, a signal for Truman to stay put while Alex made his way through the bushes, following the broken branches and the faint outline of two sets of booted feet.

      The dimming daylight plus the canopy of branches overhead made tracking the footsteps difficult, but he didn’t want to break out his flashlight just yet and risk revealing his presence to whoever might be nearby.

      A rustling in the bushes a few feet to his left sent his senses on high alert. His heart hammered in his chest. His hand went to his holstered gun. With caution and stealth, he moved slowly forward.

      * * *

      Fear that her attacker had returned stole Maya’s breath. Praying the bright blue backpack now on her back wouldn’t be a beacon to her location, she hunkered down in the bushes and tightened her fingers around the tree branch gripped between her hands. She kept her head low and prayed for protection.

      After she’d hidden behind the tree trunk, she’d heard the assailant crashing about the woods, mumbling and cursing to himself. Then he moved south, back toward the trailhead, no doubt thinking she’d headed in that direction.

      She’d started to make her way back to the path when she had heard heavy footsteps coming her way. She’d taken cover here in these bramble bushes.

      The woods had gone silent.

      Daring to peek out from behind the bushes, her gaze landed first on a pair of dark boots standing on the other side of the shrub she’d hidden behind.

      “Come out with your hands up,” a deep, familiar voice commanded.

      Deputy Alex Trevino.

      This wasn’t her attacker. This was her rescuer. God had answered her prayers. Though why he’d send Alex, of all people, she couldn’t fathom. Wasn’t Kaitlyn available?

      Shaking her head at her own idiotic thoughts—who was she to complain about how God answered her prayer—she slowly rose and stepped out from behind the bushes. “Alex.”

      He quickly holstered his drawn weapon, for which she was thankful.

      He hurried to her side. “Maya? Are you okay?” He gripped her shoulders, visually searching her, his gaze warm and concerned.

      She let go of the stick she’d expected to use as a weapon and hugged her arms around her middle as a measure of relief ebbed through her veins. She could only imagine how frightful she must look considering her trek through the woods. And why that should even matter she didn’t know. The only thing that mattered was her brother. “I’m fine. But Brady...” She swallowed back the bile of fear burning her throat.

      “What happened to your brother?”

      “I don’t know. He didn’t return when he was supposed to this afternoon. I got worried so I came out here. I found his backpack.” She hitched the straps higher on her shoulders. “Someone attacked me from behind, but I escaped and whoever it was chased me into the woods.” She shuddered as the memory flooded her mind.

      Alex cupped her elbow and started her walking back toward the trail. A sense of safety and well-being blanketed her, allowing the constriction in her chest to ease a bit.

      “Did you get a look at your attacker’s face?”

      She shook her head with regret. “No. I think it was a man.” She shrugged. “He had on a hoodie and a weird mask. But he had cold dark eyes.” A shiver slid over her skin. “I’m pretty sure he went south so I waited until I thought the coast was clear. I was working my way back to the trail when I heard you.” She grasped his arm. “We have to find Brady.”

      “We will,” he assured her in a voice full of confidence.

      She hoped he was right and that Brady was uninjured. What if the maniac who’d attacked her attacked Brady? Brady wouldn’t know how to defend himself. Worry for her brother ate at her, making her limbs shake.

      Alex helped her over a root. “We found a deceased man on Pine Ridge Trail.”

      She sucked in a sharp breath as panic whirled through her like a tornado. But he’d asked about Brady, so it couldn’t be her brother, could it?

      Her thoughts must have shown on her face because Alex threaded his fingers through hers. “It’s not your brother.”

      “The man who attacked me?”

      “Maybe.” Alex’s voice held a grim note. “Hard to know if you can’t identify your assailant.”

      “But who killed him?” None of this made sense. First, she was attacked for no apparent reason and now, her assailant could be dead.

      What about Brady? Where was he?

      They emerged out of the thick forest onto the trail where Alex’s beautiful horse, Truman, waited. Alex quickly stepped into the stirrup and hoisted himself into the saddle, then reached for her. She grasped his larger hand and let him lift her off the ground. She swung a leg over the back of the horse and settled behind Alex on the horse’s back.

      “Set your feet on the back of my calves,” he told her.

      She did but wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. She lightly placed them on his waist. With sure movement, he clasped her hands and drew them forward so that her arms wrapped around his middle.

      Awareness zipped along her veins. She felt secure and cared for as she hung onto him. The scent of his aftershave mingled with the earthy forest and horseflesh, and teased her senses, making her realize how long it had been since she’d allowed anyone, besides Brady, this close.

      If the circumstances were different, she’d have been embarrassed by the close contact. But the situation had her stomach tied up in knots and with every step the animal took, she hurt knowing she was possibly moving farther away from her brother.

      Alex kept the horse moving at a slow pace because the forest was now shrouded in darkness. With a flashlight held in one hand, he illuminated the trail. They had gone several hundred feet when Truman neighed loudly and reared back.

      “Whoa, there.” Alex expertly controlled the horse. Maya shifted, trying to see what had caused the animal to spook.

      Someone careened out of the branches of the tree above them, slamming into her, causing her to loosen her hold on Alex and forcing her off the horse. She hit the ground hard on her shoulder, a fiery pain exploded at the point of contact and radiated down her arm.

      Her assailant landed on his feet like a ninja from a movie and grabbed her by the backpack, dragging her toward the forest. Hoping to make it more difficult for him, she went limp. The blinding light of Alex’s flashlight СКАЧАТЬ