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Authors: Sharon Dunn

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“Jenna came to visit me. I had gotten a letter from my potential publisher and waited until Sunday to open it. To celebrate the bad news, I had poured myself a drink. Guess I just wanted to feel it in my hand. I called my sponsor right after that. He assured me that this happens to everyone and I'm back on track, but none of that matters to Jenna. She is tired of being hurt by me, and I don't blame her.”

“When was this?”

“Yesterday.”

Keith's mind raced as he replayed his conversation with Jenna. “Sunday morning?”

Richard nodded.

Now he understood why she had been so cold to him. Seeing her father relapse had probably brought back old fears. She might have even blamed him since he was the one who had suggested reconciliation.

Richard gathered up the books off the counter. “For years, I could not see things from her perspective. She had to handle a lot as a child. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to take care of her. Alcohol makes you selfish. I have put my daughter in the line of fire one too many times. Her hope has been built up, and I have dashed it to pieces.”

“Do you want things to work out between you and your daughter?”

“More than anything.” Richard's shoulders hunched. “But I wouldn't blame her if she never talked to me again.”

“Don't give up, then. Sometimes you've just got to take these baby steps.”

Keith's heart hammered in his chest. He had to find her, had to reassure her. “Why don't you take this information over to the sheriff? I think I am the one who needs to talk to Jenna.”

Keith raced out of the library and across the street. He jumped into the cab of his Dodge. Jet yipped at him. “All is not lost, my friend.” Could he promise Jenna that he would never drink again? No. But he knew with God's help, there was very little chance of it.

The truck charged to life, and he pulled onto the street. Fear mixed with excitement as he turned off the
city street onto the country road. Now that he understood how afraid she was of having to relive the loneliness of her childhood, would his assurances be enough?

The top of the flight barn came into view and he accelerated. He could call her cell and let her know he was on the way, but no, this needed to be done face-to-face. Explaining over the phone wouldn't work, and it might make her not want to see him at all.

He pulled into the center lot and jumped out of his truck. A Lexus was parked in the lot. A hush had descended on the center. When he tried the door of the center, it was open. He stepped inside. “Hello?”

The clock said it was after five. The volunteers would have left by now. Keith walked down the hill. The wooden bar for the flight barn door lay on the ground. When he checked the carport by Jenna's cottage, her Subaru was gone. A chill blanketed Keith's skin. Given all that had happened, Jenna wouldn't take off and leave doors unlocked.

An owl on a tether came around the corner. The bird flapped its wings, but didn't take off. Something was going on here. Jenna would never leave a bird out like that.

He gathered up the bird. As he headed toward the hill to put the bird in a cage, he spotted Jenna's car winding up a mountain.

Keith found a cage for the bird, raced outside and jumped in his truck. He ripped out of the parking lot and sped toward the mountain road, saying a prayer for Jenna's safety.

SIXTEEN

J
enna couldn't get a deep breath. She adjusted her sticky hands on the steering wheel. Peter turned toward her, pointing the gun at her.

She pressed her lips together. “What are you going to do?”

“This one will have to look like an accident.”

What did he mean by
this one?
“Please, Peter.” Her mouth felt dry. Even without the gun, Peter was strong. With the gun, she was completely outmatched.

“Course, you are always running over hill and dale to save those precious birds. It is entirely believable that sooner or later you might slip off a mountain.”

Jenna's heart thudded against her rib cage. She had just passed the last crossroads. At this point, the road only went one place, to the top of Mount Larson. Unless they met a car coming down the mountain, her chances of finding help had gone from slim to none.

One thought tumbled over another as she tried to come up with possibilities for escape. There was nothing in the car she could defend herself with. A pocketknife wasn't much of a match against a gun.

“Why are you going so slow?” Each word was like a knife jab in her skin.

“This is a single lane dirt road with a hundred foot drop-off.” The speedometer read fifteen. She probably could have pushed it up to twenty or twenty-five, but going slower gave her time to think.

Peter faced forward, but still pointed the gun toward her. In her peripheral vision, she saw him reach down and tug on the seat belt as though it were uncomfortable.

She needed to buy some time. Maybe if she got him talking. “So all your talk about caring about the birds was just a big front?”

“What I care about is the game,” he said.

She fought to keep her voice level. The one thing she had control over was her emotions. Letting him see her sense of betrayal would give him the upper hand in an even greater way. “The game? What are you talking about?”

“The challenge of the hunt. At some point, shooting an elk through the head at one hundred yards with a permit in your pocket doesn't give you the rush you crave.”

Jenna swallowed the rising anger. This man had totally deceived her. Her teeth clenched. She couldn't say anything without revealing her rage. The car descended into the final dip before the road would end at the edge of a cliff.

“Fortunately, I found a group of men who felt the same way and were willing to pay for the thrill.” Peter's chin jerked up in a show of pride.

Jenna squeezed the steering wheel. Her knuckles turned white. She couldn't contain her anger any longer.
“Most hunters have respect for the landowners, for the land and for what they hunt.”

Peter leaned toward her, placing the gun on her temple. “Don't go getting all self-righteous on me.” He spat his words out.

The pressure of the barrel of the gun made her eyes water. Her throat constricted. She forced out her words anyway. “I have to say it.” She spoke through gritted teeth. “You sir, are a hunter without honor.”

Peter huffed. “Honor? Give me a break.” He gave the gun a final push against her temple before pulling it away.

They reached the flat area at the top of the mountain. Jenna brought the car to a stop.

“You stay right there,” Peter said as the gun jerked in his hand, “until I come around and open your door.”

Jenna pulled her hands off the steering wheel. Her gaze traveled to the rearview mirror. Fifty yards behind her was the edge of the forest. Could she get to the cover of the trees fast enough? Probably not. Given his shooting abilities, he could put a bullet in her before she had run ten yards.

Her fingers hovered by the keys still in the ignition. Maybe she could get turned around and down the mountain before he had time to shoot. Her trembling fingers touched the key.

She saw a flash of movement in her rearview mirror as Peter passed around the back of the car. She sat up straight. He jerked the door open and grabbed her shirt at the shoulder.

“Go to the rear of your car and grab one of those empty cages.”

Jenna scanned the area around her as she made her way to the hatch and opened it. Her hand touched the smaller carrier.

“Take a bigger one,” Peter commanded. “Lots of eagle nests around here. We want it to look like you were trying to rescue one of your precious goldens, and in your enthusiasm, you fell to your death.”

“You never cared about the birds.”

“Of course not, it was just a front so no one would suspect me.” He flashed a grin that made her blood run cold.

Jenna's pulse drummed in her ears. She closed her eyes, unable to think of a coherent prayer. Only two words came to mind.

Please, God.

Peter leaned toward her and grabbed her phone off her belt. “Now go over to the edge of the cliff and throw the carrier off.”

Her own heartbeat sounded like a death march playing in her head. Jenna bit her lower lip. Her feet felt like they were encased in cement.

“Go,” Peter barked.

Jenna walked to the edge of the cliff. The initial drop off was a gradual forty-five degrees of rocks. She and Keith had climbed this mountain; there were ledges and footholds, but for the most part, it was a straight down.

Jenna tossed the carrier across the broken shale. It bounced once and rolled toward the edge. Peter threw her phone in the same direction, which bounced off several rocks before coming to rest a few feet from the
carrier. It was pretty clear what the next part of his plan was. Would he push her or make her jump?

Jenna stalked over to him. “You haven't thought this through. You can't take my car. You'll have to hike off this mountain. I wouldn't have walked all the way up here to get a bird.”

He leaned toward her, pushing the gun against her stomach and standing so close that his spit hit her face. He waved his own phone at her. “I'll get a ride from one of my many hunter buddies who are sworn to silence and have a little more loyalty than Eddie Helms.”

“So you did shoot him?”

“Quit stalling.” He slapped her hard across the jaw.

The stinging on her face became a tingle. She touched her finger to her cheek. Tears welled.

He pointed toward the rocks. His voice was a low, husky whisper. “You know what you have to do now.”

“If you shoot me, they will trace the bullet and know you were involved.”

Rage exploded in his eyes. “Turn around and walk.”

“I won't. You'll have to shoot me.” Either way, she was going to die. She had no intention of Peter Hickman getting away with this.

His upper lip rippled. He spun her around and poked the gun in her back. “Walk.”

“Shoot me.”

The pressure of the gun against her spine lessened. Peter stepped away from her and then ran to the car. He glanced at her and then down the mountain. He grabbed something from the rear of the car and stalked toward her.

“Change of plans.” He glanced back down the road.

Jenna tried to turn to see what he saw, but he spun her around so she faced the cliff.

In his hand, he held the leather rope she used to tether birds and the cloth she threw on them to calm them. He had also grabbed a long rope she kept in the car. He tied her hands together.

“What's going on?”

“You ask too many questions.” He placed the blindfold over her eyes.

Only a sliver of light snuck in at the bottom of the cloth. “If they find me like this, it won't look like an accident.”

“I'll deal with you later. Now walk.” He pushed on her back. The hard metal of gun bruised her spine.

Why had Peter changed his plan? Jenna took a hesitant step forward, testing the ground in front of her. Solid.

Peter pushed on her back again. “Hurry.”

Something had panicked him. She could hear it in his voice.

She took several more slow steps.

“You've got a good twenty yards. Come on, run.”

She obeyed. She was breathless by the time he yelled “Stop.” A second later he came up to her and tied the rope around her waist. She pulled away, resisted, but he cinched the rope tighter, causing it to dig into her stomach.

He spoke into her ear. “I'm going to lower you down. Any lack of cooperation from you, and you risk tumbling off this mountain and breaking into a million pieces.”

Her own sense of self-preservation kept her from fighting when she slipped off the cliff face and he lowered her. Her head grazed against the side of the cliff as rocks crashed into each other and cascaded down the mountain.

His voice came from above her. “Hold very still.”

Her feet touched solid surface. She crumpled to her knees. The wind brushed against her face. She detected the rush of a distant waterfall, reminding her that she was close to Eagle Falls where so many eagles nested.

She could barely make out the mechanical clang and hum of her car starting. The faint engine noises faded into the distance. Why on earth was Peter headed back down the mountain? Hope budded anew. Someone must be coming up the road.

Jenna inched her foot across the hard surface until she felt the drop off. If she moved, she would fall hundreds of feet.

SEVENTEEN

K
eith was relieved to see Jenna's car parked at the last intersection before the road wound up the mountain. Maybe she had been called out on a big emergency, and she hadn't had time to lock the center.

He parked his truck beside her vehicle. No one was behind the wheel and the hatch was opened. Keith jumped out and circled the car. There were no carriers in the back. Jenna always had a small carrier and a large carrier with her. He studied the borders of the forest. The evergreens blended into dark shadows.

She wouldn't release a bird in such a thick forest anyway. It was usually easier to let them go in an open area or from a high place. He sauntered a few yards up the road. Wind blew through the grass of the meadow. He called her name. Fear crept into his awareness.

Something felt wrong.

A moment later, a man emerged from the trees holding one of the carriers. Maybe a volunteer. He wore a cowboy hat and dark glasses. The man shouted and waved. He drew closer.

Keith's stomach knotted. Peter Hickman.

Keith closed the distance between them. His feet pounded the hard earth. “Where is Jenna?”

Peter pulled off his sunglasses. “I imagine she is back at the center.” He lifted the pet carrier. “I offered to help out with the release of a bird. She said I could take her car because it has all the needed equipment.”

“You lie.” Keith's blood boiled.

Peter took a step back and held up a hand. “Now hold on, just a minute.”

Keith's hands curled into fists. He wanted to strangle this man. “Where. Is. Jenna?”

Peter stepped back again. “What is your problem? Calm down. I told you. She loaned me her car. Why don't you head to the center? I'm sure she is there.”

“I was just there,” Keith replied through clenched teeth. “The place was empty.” Keith's heart pounded as adrenaline raged through him. Peter didn't know that Keith had linked him to the extreme hunters. Jenna was in danger. He knew it. Had Peter dragged her into the forest?

“Maybe she just stepped out.” Peter offered Keith a crooked smile. “I've got to take the car back to the center. Are we good here?” His voice was patronizing.

Keith's mind reeled. Jenna must have made the same connections he had and now Peter had done something to her. “Where is she?” Keith lunged, hitting Peter across the jaw with a right hook. When Peter got back to his feet, he had a gun in his hand.

Keith swallowed hard to quell the storm brewing inside him. If Peter put the gun away, he might be able to jump him. If he played it cool, Peter might let his guard down. He struggled to keep the emotion out of
his voice. “You're right. I should calm down. I'm sorry I got so upset.” Each beat of his heart was a tick on the clock.

Jenna, where are you? What has he done with you?

Peter continued to hold the gun on him. “You kind of scared me.” He circled around Keith without turning his back.

A few seconds more and Peter would be in the car and gone. He stepped toward the driver's seat, edging along the front bumper, still not taking his eyes off Keith.

Wild drums beat inside Keith's head. He could not let this man go. Peter knew that Keith was on to him. He had the resources to be out of the country within hours. And Jenna?

Uncontrollable rage and desperation made Keith leap across the space between the two men and tackle Peter. A gunshot reverberated through the forest.

 

Jenna pressed close to the wall of the cliff. A branch brushed across her cheek. In the rush, Peter had not tied the blindfold very tight. She dipped her head so the branch hooked on the fabric. The branch was a centimeter from her eye. She leaned her head back, and the blindfold released from her eyes. The action caused her shoulder to brush against the loose rock of the cliff. A stone fell at her feet.

As the blindfold fell around her neck, she blinked. The ledge was even smaller than she had imagined. The view made her dizzy. Looking down only fueled her fear of heights.

Her arms strained from being tied behind her back. She tilted her head up. Peter had lowered her a good ten feet. The rope around her waist had been secured above her. A chill ran down her spine. Peter had said he wanted her death to look like an accident. He intended to come back for her.

He'd seen something down the mountain that had panicked him. Another car headed up this way, perhaps. But not Keith. Keith was on his way out of town. He was miles from here. Yet, he was the first person that came to mind. How many thousands of miles and how much time would there have to be between them before the strong connection died? She had to force herself to let it go. Just because he had rescued her so much in the past, saved her bacon in rivers and on the side of cliffs didn't mean he was good for her. He had saved her a thousand times from physical jeopardy but protecting her heart was a different thing altogether.

As much as she could without moving her legs, Jenna peered at the cliff face. She lifted her head. An eagle soared through the sky. The huge wingspan which always made her awestruck was the first clue that it was an eagle. As the bird drew closer, she could distinguish the white head of a mature baldy.

A hundred yards away and below her, the bird came in for a landing in a nest. The brown eaglet blended with the colors of the nest, but she could see slight movement. That guy needed to be pushed out of the nest and soon. This late in the summer most of the juveniles were out on their own. The older eagle flapped its wings before settling over her baby as the wind picked up.

What a picture of security.

Jenna held her breath as pieces of a psalm floated back into her head. Something about God protecting her with his wings. People, even good people like Keith, might let her down. Trusting in God was where the real safety in this world was. Her heart ached and she regretted her harsh words to Keith…and now it was too late.

The wind picked up even more. Her legs were starting to feel numb. She prayed. This was not the end. She was not without hope. Peter had seen someone coming up the mountain. They might get here before Peter could stop them. She was not about to give in to despair. She would do everything she could think of to get out of here.

She lifted her head as high as she could and shouted, “Hey, hey, somebody. I am down here.”

Her foot slipped on the edge of the ledge.

 

Keith's body shuddered from the impact of falling on Peter. The two men rolled on the ground. Peter righted himself and subdued Keith by pinning his arm behind his back. The gun must have gone off. He saw Peter's hat and the crushed sunglasses but no gun.

Out of breath from the struggle, Keith wiggled to break free. “What have you done with Jenna?”

Peter didn't answer. He must be looking around for the gun. He released all the pressure off Keith's arm. Keith scrambled to his feet to see that Peter was pointing the gun at him again.

Behind him, Keith saw Jet racing through the tall grass. By the time Peter was aware of the noise, the dog had leaped up and grabbed Peter's shirttail. The attack
was enough to throw Peter off balance, the gun fell out of his hand as he struggled to stay on his feet.

Keith scrambled for the gun and pointed it at Peter. Jet backed off but continued to bark, showing his teeth.

“Good boy, Jet.” Keith tossed his cell phone to Peter. “Call the Sheriff.”

With a wary glance toward Jet who released a low growl, Peter shook his head. “I haven't done anything wrong.”

“We've linked you with the extreme hunters. No doubt you are the one setting things up. I am sure if we get some searchers out on your property, we can find that helicopter.”

Peter's face blanched, and he took a step back.

Keith's head jerked up. “Now call the sheriff.” He took in a breath. “And then…and then, tell me where Jenna is.” His voice faltered. His thoughts jumbled. Was she still alive? What if Peter had done something to Jenna at the center and then hidden her somewhere? That didn't make sense. Why take her car and make himself look suspicious. “She is around here, isn't she? Tell me where she is.”

 

Jenna's throat hurt from shouting. She pressed hard against the cliff face to keep from slipping again. She couldn't tell if the rope Peter had tied around her waist would hold her or not. Her legs had gone completely numb. She really needed to stretch out. The rope dug into her wrists and stomach.

She shifted slightly and more pebbles and dirt cascaded down the mountain. Slowly, carefully, she rose to her feet. Her legs tingled from lack of circulation. The
view around her started to spin. She closed her eyes as a wave of despair washed through her. What if she died here? If she tumbled off this mountain, would the authorities even know Peter had done this?

Even as she was ready to give up, she heard that still small voice that told her to try one more time.

Her throat felt like someone had run sandpaper over it. Jenna gathered her remaining energy, lifted her head and shouted. “Hey, somebody! I'm down here!”

She thought she heard something. A humming noise like a car motor? She shook her head. Was she just so desperate that now she was imagining sounds?

She cried out again. The faint sound of a dog barking reached her ears. Mustering strength, she lifted her head and shouted again. “I'm here!”

A strong clear voice responded. “Jenna!”

Her heart burst with joy. Keith had found her. “Down here.”

His head materialized above her and then Jet's head appeared. The dog offered a sympathetic whine for her predicament. “You seem to have gotten yourself into a pickle.”

She uttered a strange sound that was meant to be the words
thank God,
but the power of the rush of emotion through her made her words come out garbled.

Keith knelt. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you, Jenna Murphy.” His face glowed with affection.

“You came back.”

“I never left,” he said.

Was that because of her or some other reason? “My hands are tied.”

“I see that.” He angled his head side to side,
assessing further. “Hold on, I think we can get you out of there.”

Keith disappeared and returned a few minutes later. He tossed a rope so it hung beside where she was. “I'm coming down to you.”

“Where did you get the climbing gear?”

“After we talked about climbing again, I bought some gear and threw it in my truck.” He buckled himself into the harness. “The sheriff is here to help. Peter is handcuffed in the car.”

Keith rappelled down the mountain until he lined up with Jenna. Her back was to him. “Hold still. I'll cut the ties on your hands.”

The pressure of the knife pressed against the rope. Her hands released, and she grabbed the rope tied around her waist as she wobbled backward. “Is this secure?”

Keith nodded. “This rope is not the best setup, but I'll help you. Come on, take your first foothold.”

Her head buzzed and her pulse accelerated.

Keith positioned a hand on the middle of her back warming her to the core. The fogginess in her head cleared. If Keith was here, she wasn't afraid of falling.

“Like old times.” She placed her foot on the tiny ledge.

“It would be nice if it was like old times for all time,” Keith said.

Jenna reached up and found a handhold. Her foot searched for a ledge, and she pushed herself up. What was Keith saying? She bent her head to look down. “For all time? Are you serious?”

Her foothold gave way, and she slipped back down the rope to face Keith. They swung slightly, both of them
hanging from their ropes. Keith angled his body, so he could rest his open palm on her cheek.

Jenna stared into the gentle gray eyes.

“For all time, for the rest of my life, with you,” he whispered.

 

Keith wrapped the blanket the sheriff had given them tighter around Jenna's shoulders. The hard bench in the sheriff's office pressed against her back.

He leaned close to Jenna. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. She hadn't spoken much since they had gotten off the cliff face. He had proposed to her. What was her answer?

The sheriff clicked through pages on his computer. “If you folks will just wait a few minutes more, I will take your statements.”

The deputy had already taken Peter Hickman into a holding cell.

The sheriff tapped his keyboard. “You'll be glad to know that we matched the bullet in the eagle to the bullet in Eddie Helms. We've got a warrant to search Hickman's place to find the rifle.”

“I thought Craig Smith had something to do with all this?” Jenna said.

“We questioned Craig earlier today. He did get into a card game with Eddie. Eddie was trying to wrap up loose ends before he blew the whistle. He was on his way out to pay off his debt to Craig.”

The sheriff walked over to the other side of the room to retrieve documents. The deputy returned. After speaking to the sheriff, he sauntered over to Jenna and Keith.

“Sheriff wants me to take your statements.” The deputy sat at his computer.

“I'll go first.” Keith pulled his arm away from Jenna.

Keith went through the deputy's questions. Jenna did the same thing. They walked out into the cool of the evening. A few people sauntered along the sidewalks. Lights from the steak house glowed as people stepped inside.

“Do you remember what I said to you on the mountain?” Keith wrapped his arm around Jenna.

This was it. Her heart raced. “Yes, I remember.”

“To be together like old times…for all time. Is that something you'd want?”

She stopped. Her gaze traveled to the library. All the lights had been turned off and shadows covered the steps.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know that he wants to patch things up.”

“I miss him.” Jenna shook her head. “But letting him back into my life means he could hurt me again.”

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