Keeping Christmas Part 14

He stared at her as he slowly holstered his weapon and tried to still his thundering pulse. "Did you ever think that going for a run when there are so many people after you might be a bad idea?"

"No one knows we're here, right?"

Her reasoning was pus.h.i.+ng him over the edge. "You're the one who said my call yesterday would have your father and his men breaking down our doors last night."

"I guess the lodge is harder to find than I thought," she shot back with a grin.

"What's so d.a.m.ned funny?"

"You. As you recently said to me, you can't have it both ways. Either you believe my life is in danger. Or you don't. Obviously, you do."

"You scared the h.e.l.l out of me." It was out before he could call it back.

She c.o.c.ked her head at him. "Admit it. You believe that someone wants me dead."

"Anyone who's ever met you probably wants to kill you," he said, his pulse finally dropping back to normal. Ice crystals glistened in the morning sunlight. The air smelled of pine and snow. And Dixie looked great.

"Whatever," she said with a little shake of her head just as she'd done when she was a kid and he'd wanted to turn her over his knee.

Some things just didn't change.

Beauregard Bonner had known where they were, but no hit men had shown up to take her out. That had to be one h.e.l.l of a relief for her. She'd been wrong about her father.

"Ever been on a snowmobile?" he asked.

She shook her head, eyes wide and bright, her face suddenly alive with excitement.

He grinned. "Hop on."

The gunshot came out of nowhere. A tree just past Dixie's head splintered, the sound a loud crack that echoed across the mountainside. As he lunged for her, he heard the second shot. It whistled past his head as he tackled Dixie and took her down hard behind the snowmobile.

"You believe me now?" There were tears in her eyes. "I knew it. I knew it."

He cursed himself, his own stupidity. He shouldn't have made the call yesterday from the lodge phone. But he'd been so convinced that her father only had her best interests at heart. What the h.e.l.l had he been thinking?

"Stay here and stay down," he ordered, pulling his weapon as he crouched behind the snowmobile, then made a run for it, dodging in and out of the trees, s.h.i.+elding himself as he moved quickly in the direction of the gunfire.

He could only estimate where the shot had come from, given where the first bullet had struck the tree. But as he moved, he came across the tracks in the fresh snow. They crisscrossed the mountainside, moving first in one direction, then back the other way.

Chance took off at a run following the tracks, keeping to the trees just as the shooter had. He hadn't gone far when he heard the sound of a vehicle engine turning over, then the spinning of tires in the snow.

It was hard to run fast enough through the snow. He reached the clearing just in time to see the sun catch on a rig's rooftop as it dropped over the side of the mountain. He couldn't tell what the vehicle had been, let alone the color with the sun glinting off it.

DIXIE WAS LYING in the snow on her back, staring up at the blue sky overhead. She didn't look in Chance's direction as she heard him approach, but she recognized the sound of his footfalls.

She'd been lying there, more frightened than she'd ever been before-even waking up in the trunk of her own car. Her fear had been not for herself but for Chance. She'd involved him in this and now she regretted it.

His shadow fell over her and she hurriedly wiped at her tears, not wanting him to see just how scared she was, how upset.

"I'm sorry," he said, and offered her a hand up.

She took it. "I'm the one who's sorry. I should never have gotten you into this," she said, brus.h.i.+ng off what snow she could, her jeans caked with snow. But she didn't feel it. Felt nothing but an unbearable pain in her heart.

"Don't be ridiculous. This is what I get paid to do," he said.

"Then it's a stupid job." Her gaze met his, anger sparking between them mixing with the fear in an explosive combination. "As far as I'm concerned, you're fired."

"Sorry, but I don't work for you."

"That's right. You work for my father." She turned to run back to the lodge but he grabbed her arm and spun her into him. Her body slammed against his, knocking the breath out of her even before his mouth dropped to hers and his arms wrapped around her.

The kiss was all pa.s.sion and fire, fear and regret. She'd seen the way he'd looked at her last night at the pool. The kiss took the rest of her breath. She leaned into him, letting him take her weight as she lost herself in his lips. His arms bound her to him as if he never wanted to let her go.

The sound of an approaching snowmobile droned loudly, bringing them both back from that amazing place the kiss had taken them.

His arms loosened but his mouth stayed on hers until the last possible moment. They parted just an instant before a snowmobile came roaring up over the rise in the trail.

She saw Chance's hand slip inside his coat to where she knew he'd holstered his weapon only minutes before. The snowmobile slowed, the rider's features ghostly behind the smoked gla.s.s of his helmet. He gave a nod and throttled the machine up as he zoomed past in a clatter of engine and cloud of gray smoke.

Dixie felt weak, as if it had taken all her energy to stand after what had just happened between her and Chance. Hadn't she always dreamed of this day? Not that it had happened as she'd hoped. No, nothing about this was how she'd imagined it.

Like the way he was looking at her now. As if he was mentally kicking himself for what he'd just done.

"Don't," she said, shaking her head. "Don't try to take that back. You messed up big-time not coming in the pool with me last night and we both know it. Don't make it worse by telling yourself you're sorry about that kiss."

He chuckled, his lips turning up in a grin. "You think you know what I'm feeling right now?" He shook his head. "I shouldn't have kissed you, but believe me I have no regrets."

She smiled. "Then I guess we're making progress."

"It's not going to happen again," he said, taking a step back as if he feared being too close to her.

She laughed. "We'll see."

"We need to talk about what just happened."

"I thought we were."

"Someone just shot shot at you," he said, way too serious. at you," he said, way too serious.

"It isn't the first time. I told you, they shot at me in Texas as I was getting away."

He sighed as he raked a hand through his hair, his gaze locked with hers. "You're taking this awfully well."

She shook her head. "Don't you know me well enough by now to understand that I'm not one of those women who falls apart? When this is over..." She grinned. "Well, that will be another story. Right now, I just need to get to my aunt's before whoever took a shot at me does."

"You're right."

Her smile widened as she looked at him. "You should say that more often. I really like the sound of it."

"You know this doesn't necessarily mean that your father is behind this. It could be someone close to him. Someone he confides in. Or even someone who's put a tap on his phone line."

She cut her eyes to him. "Why are you defending him?"

"I just don't like jumping to conclusions," he said.

"No, you can't imagine a father wanting his daughter dead." She saw that she'd struck more than a nerve. "Will you tell me about your daughter some time?"

He reared back in surprise, shaking his head, his gaze warning her not to push this.

She took a breath, still trembling inside from her encounter both with a near bullet wound-and her even more intimate encounter with Chance Walker. At this point, she would have been hard-pressed to say which had the most affect on her.

"That offer of a ride still open? Because my not-so-scrawny behind is freezing."

Chance looked relieved and maybe a little surprised that she'd dropped the subject so easily. Clearly he'd hoped she didn't know. He'd underestimated her. But then, he had from the start. Since the day Chance Walker had left Texas, she'd made a point of keeping up with his life in Montana. She was her father's daughter, after all.

CHANCE SAID NOTHING on the ride back to the lodge. On entering their suite, he picked up the phone, then put it back down again.

"You aren't going to call the police?" she asked, relieved.

He looked at her and she could tell he was struggling with this. "It isn't because I'm worried that your father's money has corrupted the local sheriff."

"So let me get this straight," she said. "There are times that it's a bad bad idea to call the cops?" idea to call the cops?"

He scowled at her. "The sheriff would have to drive out for our statements. It would take hours. He'd check the tracks in the snow and find what I did. Man-size boot prints, nothing distinguis.h.i.+ng about them. He would find the slug in the tree and figure out that it came from a rifle. He would trail the footprints to tire tracks."

She nodded.

Chance sighed. "In the end, he'd make the report and conclude it was probably a stray bullet from a late hunt."

"A hunter? You believe that?"

"No." He met her gaze and shook his head. "I still don't know what to believe."

She nodded, knowing the feeling only too well. "I meant what I said earlier. Call my father and quit. I don't want your death on my conscience."

"You have a conscience?"

"I'm serious, Chance."

He shook his head. "Sorry, but you didn't hire me, so you can't fire me. I'm in this to the end now."

"If it's the money-"

"It's not the money," he said, eyes snapping. "I finish what I start."

She c.o.c.ked her head at him and grinned. "Really? That's good to hear." She hoped that also applied to what he'd started on the trail earlier.

"I mean it, Dixie. We're going to Livingston to talk to Glendora Ferris. I'm not finished until we find out who's trying to kill you and why."

She looked into his eyes and saw that he did mean it. "I just don't want you to be sorry."

He laughed. "h.e.l.l, I was sorry the minute I laid eyes on your father again. The way I see it, things can only get worse."

She wasn't sure how to take that since his gaze went to her lips as if he was remembering the kiss.

Unconsciously she touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip. He groaned and turned away, leaving her smiling.

"Strip out of those wet clothes," he ordered, his back to her. "While you get a hot shower, I'll get your clothing dried. We'll stop by your car on the way to Livingston and get the rest of your clothes."

She stripped down and tossed her wet, cold clothing on the floor right behind him. He didn't move until she went into the bathroom and started to close the door. What was he so afraid of? But she knew the answer to that.

She turned on the shower and stepped under the spray, her skin red and chilled. She wrapped her arms around herself and stood under the hot water, thinking about Chance Walker, thinking about his daughter, and finally thinking about what had happened in the woods.

For a while, flirting with Chance, she'd been able to put it out of her mind. Hadn't she known that Chance had alerted the killers where she was by calling her father from the lodge phone?

Tears stung her eyes. What was it she'd stumbled across digging in her family's past that could make her own father want her dead?

Chapter Eleven

While Dixie was in the shower, Chance put in a call to Bonner in Texas and wasn't surprised when his call was answered by an abrupt, "Don't tell me you no longer have Dixie."

"Call off your thugs," Chance ordered.

"I told you I didn't hire anyone else."

"Bull."

"Chance, if there is anyone else after Dixie...well, I don't know anything about it. Have you asked her? her?"

"Listen, Bonner, someone just took a potshot at your daughter. I want to know what the h.e.l.l is going on."

Bonner swore. "She's all right?"