Wyoming Mountain Escape by Laura Scott (types of ebook readers .TXT) 📗

Duncan right? Had Brett somehow gotten involved in something sinister? As much as it was difficult to imagine, it was also the only thing that made sense.

And she couldn’t help thinking about the crazy story he’d told Duncan about being hired as protection duty for a nearby rancher.

Was Elroy Lansing a part of this? As the only rancher in the immediate area, he must have been the one Brett was talking about.

“Let’s go.” Duncan took her arm. “We need to move.”

“But—are we going to leave him here?” She glanced doubtfully at the unconscious man. “What if wild animals find him?”

“I’m sorry, but we have to. I told you, I don’t think he’s on the mountain alone. His team will find him before the wild animals get to him. Trust me, we need to be long gone when they do.”

She couldn’t argue his logic. “All right.”

“First we’ll wrap your feet.” Duncan gestured for her to sit, and took several moments wrapping her feet in the remaining strips. Then he handed her the last one. “I need you to wrap this around my arm.”

“Your arm?” She frowned, taking in his mud-stained shirt. “You’re hurt?”

“It’s a minor cut. But I don’t want to leave a blood trail for anyone to follow.” As he spoke, he stripped off his filthy shirt and turned so that she could see his arm. There was a three-inch cut on his bicep, oozing blood.

“It’s going to get infected.” First the dirty shirt, and now a strip from her gown.

“It will be fine for now.” Duncan’s tone was calm. “Just do your best.”

Swallowing hard, she took the last strip from her dress and wrapped it around the wound, tucking the end over into itself to help keep it in place. His skin was warm to the touch, making her shiver with awareness.

Stop it. She gave herself a mental shake. What kind of woman lost her groom-to-be in a horrific murder and then noticed another man? A terrible woman. It was wrong on so many levels. She must be losing her grip on reality. This must be a weird reaction to the violence around her.

Duncan was an old childhood friend, like Brett. Nothing more.

“Okay, let’s go.” Duncan shrugged back into his shirt, helped her put his jacket back on, then took her hand.

“Where?” She tripped over a rock and might have fallen if he hadn’t held her up.

For several long moments he didn’t respond. He led the way without the aid of his phone flashlight app. She understood he was trying to preserve the phone battery, but that wouldn’t matter much if they fell on their faces and ended up rolling like fallen logs down the mountain.

When they were far enough away from their makeshift camp, he lowered his voice and spoke in a whisper as if worried the man they’d left unconscious and bound might be able to hear. “Up the mountain.”

Up? Was he joking? She couldn’t climb a mountain in the darkness.

In a wedding dress.

Yet that’s exactly what she did. It was slow going, especially because of her lack of decent footwear. Duncan took his time, choosing their path carefully. She followed on his heels, doing her best to step where he did, wincing when sharp rocks and sticks poked at her feet. He shortened his stride because of her, and she was grateful. Despite how painstakingly slow they were moving, she felt herself growing breathless with exertion.

She was clearly out of shape, because Duncan acted like this was a stroll in the park. She tried to control her breathing so she didn’t sound like a wounded grizzly. Between her aching feet and her shortness of breath, she was slowing them down. What she wouldn’t give for a four-wheeler. A minibike. Even a horse. She’d learned to ride when her family had moved to Wyoming, but the hotel kept her too busy to have horses of her own.

She took a step. And another. Winced when she stepped on a rock, then took another.

Chelsey had no idea what time it was. Or how long they’d been climbing. But when Duncan came to an abrupt halt, she plowed into him from behind.

“Oomph.” Her face smooshed into his back.

“You okay?” His low voice was barely audible.

“Yes.” In contrast to his ability to be quiet, her whisper sounded like a shout.

Duncan turned and gently tugged her down to the ground. She wanted to collapse against him but forced herself to be strong.

“Wait here.” He moved away without making a sound. How did he do that?

Suddenly it occurred to her that she was holding him back. That if not for his willingness to protect her, he’d be long gone and safe.

Instead he’d fought an assailant for her. Led her through the darkness and put her needs before his. Caring for her in a way no one ever had.

In the months since her mother’s death, she hadn’t felt very close to God. Hadn’t been able to feel His presence, even at church. Brett hadn’t been much of a churchgoer, and she’d skipped several Sunday sermons doing things with him.

But now, she knew God was still watching over her, despite how she’d strayed.

Humbled, she closed her eyes and thanked God for bringing Duncan to Jackson, Wyoming, and for providing him the strength and courage he needed to keep her safe.

He stared out into the darkness, surveying the area.

Nope. He didn’t like it.

The water source was fine, but they weren’t far enough from their previous campsite. In fact, he’d been pretty much following the stream they’d discovered earlier. They needed to keep moving, but he could tell Chelsey was losing strength. Her ragged breathing concerned him. The altitude was getting to her, and they weren’t even that far up the slope.

He bent down to drink some water, then realized she was still wearing his jacket so he wasn’t able to bring water back to Chelsey using his pockets the way he had before.

Sitting back on his heels, he tried to think of what their best