Занятия с детьми 2-3 лет. Музыкальное и художественное развитие. М. Ю. Грузова
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      “Rich!” she called through the opening in her helmet—she’d left the visor up—though she wasn’t sure if he would hear her over the snowmobile.

      Living this secluded in these woods, she’d traded the safety and security of knowing that she could call 911 and get a quick response for her privacy, peace and quiet. Now she regretted that decision. She had a satellite phone that didn’t work so well on cloudy days, and a radio she shared with the Wilderness, Inc. crew, but that was iffy in the mountains.

      She was on her own up here for the most part.

      They were on their own.

      Calling his name again, she continued between the trees, grateful the thick evergreen canopy prevented the falling snow from breaking through and hiding the tracks as quickly here. At least she hadn’t seen more blood, which meant that somehow he’d been able to slow the bleeding or stop it completely.

      The snowmobile ground over lumps of buried boulders, and skipped along over recently fallen branches covered in fresh powder. She had to be careful that she didn’t get stuck.

      Why would a man who was bleeding like that get on a snowmobile and ride off into the woods?

      Up ahead, Olivia spotted a snowmobile. She sped forward until she was close enough to identify it as the one Rich had used to come to the house. The snow machine was turned on its side up against a tree.

      Olivia let her gaze search for any sign of Rich, fear pricking her neck like icy daggers. He could die from his injury, or he could die from hypothermia, but why had he left the house?

      Had he been running from someone? Olivia wouldn’t normally jump to such conclusions, except Hadley Wilde had come to this region to hide because she’d been running from an assassin and that’s when she’d met and married Cooper Wilde, Wilderness, Inc. owner and Olivia’s boss. Since Hadley had hidden here, it wasn’t so far-fetched to think Rich had come here to hide from someone and had been attacked. It wasn’t as if he’d expected to find Olivia living in the house. They hadn’t spoken since their mom’s funeral.

      A sudden chill, much colder than the air around her, slid up her spine.

      She searched the woods again for his tracks, but they were now long gone.

      “Rich!” she called.

      She was torn about what to do. Should she keep searching until she found him or go back for help? Either decision could be the wrong choice. She could be too late to save him either way.

      God, what should I do? I can’t just leave him out here. He needs help now!

      Indecision twisted her insides.

      Another snowmobile approached. Friend or foe? Who else would be up here besides her, Rich and whoever was the reason he’d fled the house?

      Run!

      Her mind screamed but her legs struggled to respond.

      As the rider parked next to Rich’s snowmobile, she backed away and pressed her hand against a tree trunk as though she could turn it into a weapon if needed. A knife in her pocket her only real weapon, she slipped her other hand around the hilt, wishing for the gun she’d left in her bedroom.

      The rider slid from the snowmobile and pulled his visor up. Familiarity wrapped around her.

      She didn’t think the man was Coop or Gray, or anyone else from the Wilderness, Inc. crew. She stepped closer. “Who... Do I know you?”

      But then she noticed his eyes. Those ice-blue eyes like the color of snow in the shadows—she would never forget them.

      He pulled his helmet off, his own surprise at seeing her still registering on his rugged features, his winter-wheat hair thick but mussed from the helmet.

      Zachary Long.

      Gone were the smooth but chiseled features of the younger man she’d known and loved. A pang shot through her. Ten years had changed him significantly. His handsome features were stronger, the sharp look of life’s experiences and losses evident in his gaze, and it almost sucked the oxygen from her.

      “Olivia?”

      His voice wrapped around her, cradling her against the shock of seeing him. “Zach. What...what are you doing here?”

      Olivia shook off the rush of emotion. “No. Scratch that. It doesn’t matter. I need to find Rich. He’s bleeding somewhere out there. I don’t know where. The weather is turning bad and I have to find him!”

      Lines creased Zach’s forehead, growing deeper between his brows. He acted as if he wanted to ask questions but thought better of it and gave a subtle shake of his head.

      “Let’s get some help.” He removed his gloves and pulled out his smartphone. “If I can’t make the call, I’ll try a text. Something has to go through.”

      Olivia wanted to laugh at that, except this was no laughing matter.

      “Who could I text locally—”

      Bark exploded from the tree next to her.

      * * *

      “Get down!” Zach hadn’t been sure he could find the old Kendricks vacation place when Rich had left his cryptic and urgent message about meeting him there, but he’d been a detective in Portland long enough to know when to heed that sense something was wrong.

      And he’d just gotten his confirmation.

      The sound of gunfire still echoed from the shot. Zach’s mind registered the danger as reflex took over.

      He lunged for Olivia and threw her to the ground, pinning her under him to protect her. He remained in that position, waiting, listening.

      “Why is someone shooting at us?” he whispered through the opening in her helmet, his face close to hers. This could have everything to do with Rich and his message.

      “Get off me!”

      Her harsh tone startled him. He’d only tried to protect her. Apparently she didn’t need protecting. Didn’t she understand it was second nature to him as an officer of the law? Make that an ex-officer, ex-detective with the Portland Police Department.

      He rolled away. “Stay down.”

      Zach crept over to hide behind the snowmobiles, trying to get a look at who had fired the shot. Olivia crawled over to him and another bullet pinged against the snowmobile closest to her. Another hit the tree behind him.

      To let the assailant know Zach had come armed and prepared, he reached for the weapon in his shoulder holster, chambered a round and fired toward the shooter to hold him off. Even though he was no longer a detective, he still carried a weapon, his concealed weapon permit legal anywhere in the state of Oregon. This incident confirmed the necessity.

      He hoped the rounds he fired would hold off the shooter while he and Olivia made a quick plan.

      “I said to stay down.” He turned to look at her, softening his expression. She didn’t seem to notice he’d snapped СКАЧАТЬ