Mountain Hideaway. Christy Barritt
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was pampered into someone practical.
Despite how frustrating she was, Trent couldn’t stand the thought of her striking out on her own again. He was certain the woman was in danger, and he didn’t know why yet. Her fiancé—former fiancé—had told Tessa’s family that she’d had a mental break. According to Leo McAllister, one minute they’d been talking about the wedding and the next she’d gone crazy. She’d begun throwing things, accusing him of things. Leo had tried to stop her, but she’d taken off. No one had seen her since then.
Trent had known going into this that he might be confronting someone who’d flown off their rocker. But when he looked at Tessa, that wasn’t the impression he had.
Was he so drawn to this case because of Laurel? It was the only thing that made sense. Guilt had been eating at him for years. He’d thought he had the emotion under control. But something about Tessa’s big blue eyes made him travel back in time. Flashes of that horrible day continued to assault him and try to take him away.
He couldn’t afford to immerse himself in the guilt and grief right now.
And he didn’t want anyone else to go through it.
“I’ll show you to your cabin, then.” He put his hand on Tessa’s back and led her to the door. He figured she would object, that she’d flinch until his hand slipped away. But she didn’t.
Her eyes had gone from fearful to dull. He’d seen that look before, the one that came when emotions were overwhelming, when they’d hammered a person so much that they began to feel like a shell of who they’d once been. He’d been there before.
He unlocked the cabin door and pushed it open. Even though he’d been keeping an eye on the place and felt certain no one knew he was here, he still instructed Tessa to stay where she was. Then he checked out every potential hiding place before deeming the cabin clear.
“Will this be suitable?” he asked her.
She nodded, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. “Yes.”
“Tessa, I’m sorry.”
“For what?” she questioned.
He shook his head, trying to find the right words. “For whatever you went through.”
She opened her mouth as if to object but then closed her lips again.
He took a step toward the door when he heard her speak again.
“What do I do now? Just wait here? Indefinitely? Until those men find me again?”
He turned, praying he’d know what to say. “That’s up to you, Tessa. You can let me help or you can keep denying who you are. Things will move a lot faster if you just tell me the truth.”
She stared at him. A moment of complacency flashed in her eyes. Then stubborn determination reappeared. “If I had something to tell you, I would.”
He stepped closer, wishing she would stop playing these games. “You know more than you’re letting on.”
They stared at each other in a silent battle of wills.
Finally Trent nodded. She would tell him in her own time, and that was that. Until then, he’d do his best to keep her safe.
“Have it your way, then,” Trent said.
Her face softened with...surprise? “I’m going to bed.”
He stepped toward the hallway, feeling crankier than he should. He’d sacrificed a lot to come here—time, his own money, in some ways his reputation. He hoped it wasn’t all for naught. “Maybe some sleep will give you a fresh perspective.”
Even better, maybe some sleep would give him perspective, because a lot of the conclusions he’d drawn before coming here were proving to be dangerously incorrect.
* * *
An hour later, Tessa still stared at the space around her, feeling a mix of both uneasiness and relief—uneasiness at being here and the circumstances that had led to it and relief that she was away from Trent.
Had her mom really hired him to find her? Tessa had known her family wouldn’t give up easily. But she’d hoped to hide away so well that there was no hope of that ever happening.
She paced the room, knowing she wouldn’t get any sleep tonight. Not after everything that had happened. It wasn’t even a slight possibility.
In the light of the cabin she’d gotten a better look at Trent. He was tall, broad and appeared to be made of solid muscle. His hair was blond with a tint of red, curly and cropped close. When his lip had started to twist up, she’d thought she’d seen a dimple on the left cheek of his very defined face.
Sure, he was handsome. Very handsome.
But sometimes a wolf looked like a sheep...or, in this case, like a ruggedly handsome Ken doll. That made him even more dangerous.
Pushing aside those thoughts, she realized that she needed to learn the lay of the house. That way, if she needed to run or hide, she at least had an idea of what her possibilities were.
The living room was simple and outfitted like most rental properties would be. There was a well-used leather couch, several magazines on the outdated coffee table and a small dinette nestled against the wall in the kitchen.
She headed toward the bedroom, determined to check that all of the windows were locked. She had to remain on guard and careful. But as soon as she stepped into the room, she stopped.
The painting on the wall.
It was by Alejandro Gaurs.
His paintings were exclusive to the world-renowned McAllister Gallery.
The art gallery that Leo’s family owned.
Her breath caught.
Had she been tricked? Did Leo own this cabin? Whoever did had obviously bought the artwork at his gallery.
What if Trent had tricked her? What if he really was working for Leo?
That had to be it, she realized. Trent had convinced her that her mom had sent him, but that was all a lie. He was working for the enemy. He’d led her right into the lion’s den.
Panic rose in her.
She couldn’t take this risk.
She had to get out of here. Now.
Tessa grabbed her backpack and slipped out the back door, trying to remain in the shadows. She looked toward Trent’s cabin then toward the woods, but saw no one.
Moving quietly, she headed for the trees. As soon as she took her first step into the depths of the forest, she realized what a precarious place she was in. These woods could kill her.
But it was a chance she had to take.
Everything inside her told her to run fast, but she knew she had to take it slow. She couldn’t be careless. One wrong step and she could break a bone. Even worse, she could fall to her death from one of the many cliffs in the area.
Slow and steady won the race. That was the saying, at least.
As Tessa left every bit—however small—of security behind, her trembles deepened. How was she going to get out of this situation? How would she last out in the wilderness? She’d read books on surviving out in nature, but everything she’d learned seemed to leave her thoughts. She only hoped the information would return as instinct kicked in.
That same intuition had kicked in when she’d grabbed Trent’s gun in the car. All of those days at the shooting range had paid off. She’d been unable to buy her own gun—she’d never get past the background check, especially not with her fake name. But at least she’d picked up a few valuable skills in the process.