Читать книгу Rogue Gunslinger - B.J. Daniels - Страница 11

Chapter Two

It happened so fast. One minute she was standing on the curb waiting for the large delivery truck to pass before crossing the street to the waiting taxi.

The next she was falling forward into the street and the truck bearing down on her. Her arms windmilled as she tried to catch herself, but there was nothing to grab. She could hear the deafening roar of the truck’s engine, smelled diesel fuel turning the air gray and closed her eyes as she realized she was about to die.

The hand that closed over her arm was large and viselike. One minute she was falling headlong into the street in front of the truck and the next she was snatched from the crushing metal bumper as the truck roared on past.

Pulled by the hand gripping her arm, her body whipped back. She slammed into something so solid it could have been a lamppost. She turned just quickly enough that her face came in contact with the chest of a large male body as she tried to get her feet under her. He steadied her for a moment before the fingers on her arm released.

She looked up in time to see the man who’d saved her turn and walk away as if rescuing women was something he did every day. Trembling all over, she was still reeling from her near death.

“Wait!” she called after him. He’d just saved her life. But if he’d heard her, he didn’t turn. All she got was a brief glimpse of granite features, collar-length dark, curly hair beneath a baseball cap above wide shoulders clad in a tan suede sheepskin coat before he disappeared into the crowd.

She turned to find her suitcase and purse had fallen to the ground at the edge of the curb. Still shaken, she reached for them. The taxi that had stopped for her was long gone. No one seemed to have noticed what had almost happened to her.

Why had the man taken off the way he had? A Good Samaritan who didn’t like taking credit for his deeds? Or, she thought with a shudder, the person who’d pushed her in front of the speeding truck—and then saved her.

Was it possible the man had been her True Fan?

She remembered being hit from behind and then the viselike grip of his large hand as his fingers bit into her arm. He hadn’t even taken the time to see if she was all right. A shudder rattled through her. Had this been a warning?

A cab pulled to a stop in front of her. Tears burned her eyes as she stepped toward it. After all this time of being away, she couldn’t wait to go home to Whitehorse.

* * *

SILAS WALKER SWORE. He’d lost the man he’d been following in the crowd of Christmas shoppers. Now he leaned against the front of a building, watching the street. His leg hurt like hell. He realized he was limping badly and cursed. If it wasn’t for his injury, he wouldn’t have lost the man.

Or if he hadn’t stopped just long enough to grab that woman who’d been jostled by the crowd and almost fallen in front of a delivery truck. He shook his head. She should have known better than to stand that close to the street, especially with the sidewalk this crowded. He hated to think what could have happened if he hadn’t been right behind her.

His cell phone vibrated. He checked the screen. A text from his boss that he wanted to see him ASAP. That couldn’t be good. He quickly texted back that he was on his way.

One look at the way he was limping and he knew exactly what his boss was going to say. He’d come back to work too soon. That he knew his boss was right didn’t make it any easier to accept.

But after today, after messing up an easy tail, Silas had to accept that he wasn’t up to the job yet. That alone would force him to lay off his leg for a while. Just over the holidays, not that he was happy about it.

A taxi pulled past. He spotted the woman in the back seat. She wore a bright red long coat with a multicolored scarf—the same woman he’d grabbed out of the way of the truck.

But that wasn’t the surprising part. He recognized her. He’d studied that face on the back cover of her book more times than he wanted to admit. He couldn’t believe his luck. TJ St. Clair. The thriller writer. Her photo hadn’t done her justice.

As the taxi drove on past, he realized she was probably headed for the airport given that he now recalled seeing a suitcase next to her. Somewhere for the holidays?

Smiling, he told himself she might be headed home to Montana. If he was right... Well, what were the chances they might cross paths again?

* * *

TJ HAD WONDERED what it would be like seeing her sisters again. The last time they’d been together they’d argued. Well, that is, she and Chloe had argued with their younger sister Annabelle over their grandmother’s house.

Grandmother Frannie Clementine had died a few months ago. In her will, she’d left everything she had—basically her house in Whitehorse—to Annabelle.

“Did you know she was going to do that?” they’d demanded.

“No, I swear I didn’t,” Annabelle had said on the phone since she hadn’t attended the funeral or seen the will.

“Why would she do that?” Chloe had demanded.

“I have no idea,” their sister had said. “Except...well, I always got the impression that she liked me the best.” She’d tried to pass that off as a joke, but they’d all hung up angry.

Now as TJ stepped off the plane, she felt bad about the argument. The house had turned out to be a whole lot of work—and had held some surprises that neither TJ nor Chloe would have wanted to handle. It had been clear why Grandma Frannie had left the house to Annabelle, who they all agreed was more like Frannie than either TJ or Chloe.

The Billings, Montana, airport was small by most airport standards and sat on rimrocks overlooking the state’s largest city. She hadn’t gone far when she saw her sisters waving at her from the bottom of the escalator.

TJ couldn’t help but grin. They were both wearing elf hats. She groaned. “This has to have been Annabelle’s idea,” she said under her breath. But the sight of them in those hats had definitely broken the ice.

She laughed as she reached them, hugging one and then the other. As she pulled back, she felt such a surge of love for her sisters that it brought tears to her eyes.

“We didn’t want you to feel left out,” Annabelle said, and whipped an elf hat from her bag and settled it on TJ’s blonde head. She grinned and put her arm around them. “We look like triplets.”

“Heaven forbid,” Chloe said.

“I’m starving,” Annabelle said, surprising no one. Since she’d quit modeling for a living, she was always hungry. “Ray J’s barbecue when we get home, eat here or just get snacks like we used to for the ride home?”

“Snacks!” TJ and Chloe said together.

“Did I mention I bought your favorite bottles of wine?” Annabelle asked. “Or we can go out and party tonight.”

TJ and Chloe groaned in unison and then laughed. It felt good being around them again, TJ thought, and felt her eyes burn again with tears. Coming home for the holidays had been the right choice. She realized this was the best she’d felt in a very long time.

Annabelle chattered as they walked through the terminal toward the exit. TJ half listened, thankful that the trouble between them had blown over. They were all three back in Montana just like when they were growing up. They were sisters and she couldn’t have been more delighted to be with them, even though people stared.

She laughed. She’d forgotten they were all now wearing elf hats. For a few minutes, she’d completely forgotten her near-death experience this morning in the city and True Fan’s threats.

But as she and her sisters passed a group waiting in one of the departure lines, she saw a woman raise her phone and take a photo of the three of them. Glancing back, TJ saw the woman quickly begin texting someone.