Kitabı oku: «Mountain Midwife», sayfa 2
Dumbstruck, he held the wriggling infant close to his chest. His gaze met hers. In his eyes, she saw a reflection of her own wonderment, and she appreciated his honest reverence for the miracle of life. For a tough guy, he was sensitive.
Her focus right now was on the mother. Rachel urged, “You need to push again.”
“No way.” With a sob, Penny covered her eyes with her forearm. “I can’t.”
She had to expel the afterbirth. As Rachel massaged the uterus, she felt the muscles contract, naturally doing what was necessary. The placenta slipped out. Gradually, the bleeding slowed and stopped.
Cole stood behind her shoulder, watching with concern. “Is she going to be okay?”
“They both are.”
Penny forced herself into a sitting position with pillows behind her back. “I want my baby.”
With Cole’s help, Rachel clipped the cord, washed the infant and cleared her nose of mucus. The rest of the cleanup could wait. She settled the new baby on Penny’s breast.
As mother and child cooed to each other, she turned toward Cole in time to see him swipe away a tear. Turning away, he said, “I’ll tell the others.”
“Whoa, there. You’re not leaving me with all the mess to clean up.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Rachel sank into a chair beside the bed and watched the bonding of mother and child. Though Penny hadn’t seemed the least bit maternal, her expression was serene and gentle.
“Do you have a name?” Rachel asked.
“Goldie. She’s my golden child.”
From the other room, she heard the men arguing loudly. Catching bits of their conversation, Rachel got the idea that they were tired of waiting around. Bad news for her.
When the gang was on the run again, they had no further need for a midwife. She was afraid to think of what might happen next.
Chapter Three
In the bedroom, Cole stood at the window and looked out into a deep, dark forest. Fresh snow piled up on the sill. He could hardly believe that he was considering an escape into that freezing darkness. He lived in L.A., where his only contact with snow was the occasional snowboarding trip to Big Bear Lake. He hated the cold.
A month ago, when the FBI office in Denver tapped him for this undercover assignment, he’d tried to wriggle out of it. But they’d needed an agent who was an unfamiliar face in the western states. The operating theory was that someone inside the FBI was connected to the spree of casino and bank robberies.
He stepped away from the window and began repacking Rachel’s medical equipment in the cases from her van. Both of the women were in the bathroom, chatting about benefits of breast feeding and how to use the pump. As he eavesdropped, he marveled at how normal their conversation sounded. For the moment, Penny wasn’t a hardened criminal and Rachel wasn’t a kidnap victim. They were just two women, talking about babies.
And he was just an average guy—shocked and amazed by the mysteries of childbirth. He didn’t have words to describe how he’d felt when Goldie was born. He forgot where he was and why he was there. Watching the newborn take her first breath had amazed him. Her cry was the voice of an angel. Pure and innocent.
In that moment, he wanted to protect Penny instead of taking her into FBI custody.
And then there was Rachel. Slender but muscular, she moved with a natural grace. Her short, dark hair made her blue eyes look huge, even though she wasn’t wearing any makeup. He felt guilty as hell for dragging her into this mess. Top priority for him was to make sure Rachel escaped unharmed.
From the bathroom, he overheard her say, “Your body needs time to recover, Penny. You should spend time in bed, relaxing.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Will the men agree to let you sleep tonight?”
“They’ll do what I say,” Penny said airily. “They can’t leave me behind.”
“Why not?” Rachel asked.
“Because I’m the only one who knows where the money is hidden.”
Cole feared that her confidence might be misplaced. Frank and the other two were anxious to get going. No doubt, they could force Penny to tell them about the stash from five different robberies in three states.
Rachel seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “What if they threaten you?”
“They wouldn’t dare. My baby’s father is the head honcho. The big boss. If anybody hurts me, they’ll answer to him.”
Cole held his breath. Say his name, Penny. He needed to know the identity of the criminal mastermind who controlled this gang and at least five others. They referred to him as Baron, and he was famous for taking bloody revenge on those who betrayed him. Cole’s reason for joining this gang of misfits was to infiltrate the upper levels of the organization and get evidence that could be used against Baron.
Rachel asked, “Does he know about Goldie?”
“Don’t you remember? I told you all about Baron, about how we met. Damn, Rachel. You should learn to pay attention.”
“Sorry,” she murmured.
“He loves me. After this job, he promised to take me home with him, to raise our baby.”
“Is that what you want?”
“You bet it is.” Penny giggled. “Want to know a secret? A little while ago, I called Baron and told him about Goldie. He’s coming here. He ought to be here any minute.”
Not good news. Cole might have been able to convince the others in the gang to release Rachel. These guys weren’t killers, except for Frank. Baron was a different story; he wouldn’t leave a witness alive.
From the bathroom, he heard Rachel ask, “How does he know where you are? Cole said this house wasn’t a scheduled stop.”
“Simple,” Penny replied. “This is Baron’s house.”
That was all Cole needed to hear. He could find Baron’s identity by checking property records. As far as he was concerned, his undercover assignment was over. He reached into his jeans pocket, took out his cell phone.
This wasn’t an everyday cell. Though Cole didn’t need a lot of fancy apps, he’d used the geniuses at the FBI to modify his phone to suit his specific needs.
The first modification: He could disable the GPS locator. Unless he had it turned on, he couldn’t be tracked. His handler—Agent Ted Waxman in L.A.—wasn’t thrilled with the need for secrecy, but Cole needed to be sure his cover wouldn’t be blown by some federal agent jumping the gun.
Second, his directory of phone numbers couldn’t be read without using a five-digit code. His identity was protected in case somebody picked up his phone.
Third and most important, his number was blocked to everyone. Waxman couldn’t call him with new orders and information. Cole, alone, made the decision when he would make contact and when he needed help.
Now was that time. He activated the GPS locator to alert Waxman that he was ready for extraction. Response time was usually less than an hour. Cole intended to be away from the house when that time came.
He slid the phone into his pocket and called out, “Hey, ladies, I need some help figuring out how to pack this stuff.”
Rachel came out of the bathroom. Right away, he could see the change in her demeanor. No longer the self-assured professional, she had a haunted look in her eyes. Beneath her wispy bangs, her forehead pinched with worry. She whispered, “What’s going to happen to me?”
Now would have been a good time to flash a badge and tell her that he was FBI, but he wasn’t carrying identification. “I’ll get you out of here.”
Her gaze assessed him. During the hours of Penny’s labor and the aftermath, a bond had grown between them. He hoped it was enough to make her cooperate without the reassurance of his credentials.
She asked, “Why should I trust you?”
“You don’t have much choice.”
Penny swept into the room and went to the travel bassinette where her baby was sleeping. “Be sure that you put all the baby stuff in the huge backpack so I can take it with me.”
“Like what?” Cole asked.
“Diapers,” Rachel said. “There’s a sling for carrying newborns. And you’ll need blankets and formula.”
“But I’m breast-feeding. My milk already came in. Does that mean my boobs are going to get small again? Jenna said they would.”
“Your friend Jenna doesn’t have children. She doesn’t know.” Rachel’s hands trembled as she sorted through the various baby items. “I don’t have a car seat I can leave with you. You’ll need to buy one as soon as possible.”
Cole saw an opportunity to get Rachel alone. He wanted to reassure her that help was on the way. He asked her, “Don’t you have a baby seat in your van?”
“I want it.” Penny climbed onto the bed and stretched out. Her pink flannel robe contrasted her wan complexion. “Get it for me.”
Rachel said, “I need that car seat for emergencies. If I have to transport a child to a hospital or—”
“Don’t be stupid, Rachel. You’re not going to need that van anymore. You’re coming with me. I need you to help me with Goldie.”
Rachel recoiled as though she’d been slapped. “I have a job.”
“So what? You’ll make more money with me than you would as a midwife.” Penny propped herself up on one elbow. “Come here and help me get these pillows arranged.”
Rachel did as she’d been ordered, then she turned toward Cole. “I’ll help you get the car seat out of the van. The straps are complicated, and I don’t want you to break it.”
From the bed, Penny waved. “Hurry back. I want more tea.”
He grabbed Rachel’s down parka from the bedroom closet and held it for her. She hadn’t said a word, but he knew she’d made a decision to stick with him. Not surprising. Trusting Penny to take care of her would be suicidal.
RACHEL DIDN’T HAVE A PLAN. Trust Cole? Sure, he’d shown sensitivity when the baby was delivered. The whole time he was helping her, he’d been smart and kind, even gentlemanly. But he also had kidnapped her and jammed a gun into her neck.
All she needed from him was her car keys.
When they stepped outside through the side door of the house, he caught hold of her arm and pulled her back, behind the bare branches of a bush and a towering pine. Edging uphill, he whispered, “Duck down and stay quiet. Something isn’t right.”
The night was still and cold. Snowflakes drifted lazily, and she was glad for the warmth of her parka and hood. Behind them was a steep, thickly forested hillside. Peeking around Cole’s shoulder, she saw the side of the house and the edge of the wooden porch that stretched across the front. Since she’d been sequestered in the bedroom with Penny and hadn’t seen the rest of the house, she hadn’t realized that it was two stories with a slanted roof. To her right was a long, low garage. Was her van parked inside? She couldn’t see past the house, didn’t know if there was a road in front or other cars.
Through the stillness, she heard the rumble of voices. There were others out here, hiding in the darkness.
She whispered, “Can you see anything?”
“A couple of shadows. No headlights.”
Mysterious figures creeping toward the hideout might actually be to her advantage. She prayed that it was the police who had finally tracked down the gang. “Who is it?”
“Can’t tell.” His voice was as quiet as the falling snow; she had to lean close to hear him. “Could be the cops. Or it could be Penny’s boyfriend.”
“Baron.” He sounded like a real creep—much older than Penny and greedy enough to want his pregnant girlfriend to participate in a robbery. “Penny said this was his house. Why wouldn’t he just walk inside?”
“Hush.”
For a moment, she considered raising her hands above her head and marching to the front of the cabin to surrender. It was a risk, but anything would be better than being under Penny’s thumb.
Gunfire from a semiautomatic weapon shattered the night. She heard breaking glass and shouts from inside the house.
She wasn’t a stranger to violence. When she was driving the ambulance, she’d been thrust into a lot of dicey situations, and she prided herself on an ability to stay calm. But the gunfire shocked her.
Shots were returned from inside the house.
There was another burst from the attackers.
She clung to Cole’s arm. “Tell me what to do.”
“We wait.”
The side door they’d come through flung open. Frank charged outside. With guns in both hands, the big man dashed into the open, firing wildly as he ran toward the garage.
He was shot. His arms flew into the air before he fell. His blood splattered in the snow. He didn’t attempt to get up, but she saw his arm move. “He’s not dead.”
“Don’t even think about stepping into the open to help him,” Cole whispered. “The way I figure, there are only two shooters. Three at the most. They don’t have the manpower to surround the cabin, but they have superior weapons.”
Though her mind was barely able to comprehend what she was experiencing, she nodded.
He continued, “We’ll go up the hill, wait until the shooting is over and circle back around to the garage.”
Taking her gloved hand, he pulled her through the ankle-deep snow into the surrounding forest. Behind them, gunfire exploded. Anybody living within a mile of this house had to be aware that something terrible was happening. The police would have to respond.
Crouched behind a snow-covered boulder, Cole paused and looked back. “We’re leaving tracks. They won’t have any trouble following us. We need to go faster.”
Her survival instinct was strong. She wanted to make a getaway, but there was something else at stake. “We can’t leave Penny here. Or the baby.”
A sliver of moonlight through clouds illuminated his face. In his eyes, she saw a struggle between protecting the innocent and saving his own butt. “Damn it, Rachel. You’re right.”
Sadly, she said, “I know.”
They retraced their steps to the house. Instead of using the door, Cole went to the rear of the house. He stopped outside a window. Inside, she saw the bathroom where she and Penny had been talking only a little while ago.
He dug into his pocket, took out her car keys and handed them to her. “If anything happens to me, get the hell out of here. Hide in the forest until you can get back to the garage.”
The car keys literally opened the door to her escape. Her purse was in the van. And her cell phone.
When he shoved the casement window open, she said, “All those windows were latched.”
“I opened it hours ago,” he said. “I expected to be escaping from the inside out. Not breaking in.”
Walking into a shoot-out was insanity. But the alternative was worse. She couldn’t leave a helpless newborn to the mercy of these violent men.
Cole slipped through the window, and she got in position to follow.
“No,” he said. “Stay here.”
There wasn’t time to argue. He needed her help in handling Penny and the baby. She hoisted herself up and over the sill.
As soon as she was inside, she heard the baby crying. In the bedroom, Cole knelt beside Penny’s body on the floor. She’d been shot in the chest. Her open eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling.
Rachel reached past Cole to feel Penny’s throat for a pulse. Her skin was still warm, but her heart had stopped. There was nothing. Not even a flutter. Penny was gone. After her heroic struggle to bring her baby into the world, she wouldn’t live to see her child grow. Fate was cruel. Unfair. Oh, God, this is so wrong.
From the front of the house, the gun battle continued, but all she heard was the baby’s cries. If it was the last thing she ever did, Rachel would rescue Goldie. Moving with purpose, she took the baby sling from the backpack. When she snuggled Goldie into the carrier, the infant’s cries modified to a low whimpering.
Cole grabbed the backpack filled with baby supplies. They went through the bathroom window into the forest.
They were only a few steps into the trees when he signaled for her to stop. He said, “Do you hear that?”
She listened. “It’s quiet.”
The shooting had ended. The battle was over. Now the attackers would be coming after them.
Chapter Four
Cole went first, leading Rachel up the forested hill and away from the house. The cumbersome backpack hampered his usual gait. He hunched forward, moving as quickly as possible in the snow-covered terrain. Even if there had been a path through these trees, he wouldn’t have been able to see it. Not in this darkness. Not with the snow falling.
His leather jacket wasn’t the best thing to be wearing in this weather, but he wasn’t cold. The opposite, in fact. He was sweating like a pig. Though breathing hard, he couldn’t seem to get enough wind in his lungs. After only going a couple of hundred yards, his shoulders ached. His thigh muscles were burning. This high elevation was killing him. He estimated that they were more than eight thousand feet above sea level. What the hell was a California guy like him doing here? His natural habitat was palm trees.
He picked his way through the rugged trunks of pine trees and dodged around boulders. After he climbed over a fallen log, he turned to help Rachel. She had the baby in the sling, tucked inside her parka.
She ignored his outstretched hand and jumped over the log, nimble as a white-tailed deer.
“Careful,” he said.
“I’m good.”
Her energy annoyed him. Logically, he knew that Rachel lived here full-time and was acclimated to the altitude. But he wanted to be the strong one—the protector who would lead her and the baby to safety.
Hoping to buy a little time to catch his breath, he asked, “How’s Goldie?”
Rachel peeked inside her parka. “Sleeping. She’s snuggled against my chest and can hear my heartbeat. It probably feels like she’s still in the womb.”
They needed to find shelter soon. It couldn’t be good for a newborn to be exposed to the cold.
“I have a question,” she said. “Why are we going uphill?”
“Escape.”
“If we go down to the road, we’ll be more likely to find a cabin. Or we could flag down a passing car.”
He looked down the hill. The lights from the house were barely visible. “We’re going this way because we can’t risk having the guys who attacked the house find us. They’ll be watching the road.”
“They’ll be looking for us? Why?”
If the gunmen worked for Baron, they wouldn’t leave without the boss man’s baby. If they were Baron’s enemies, the same rationale applied. Goldie was a valuable commodity. “It’s not us they’re after.”
Her arm curled protectively around the infant. “The police ought to be here soon. Somebody must have reported all that gunfire.”
It was too soon to expect a response from his GPS signal, but he trusted that the FBI was closing in on this location. “Nothing would please me more than hearing cop sirens.”
“You can’t mean that.” Her earnest gaze confronted him. “You’ll be taken into custody.”
He’d almost forgotten that she still didn’t know his identity. As far as Rachel was concerned, he was the guy who kidnapped her at gunpoint. An armed robber.
“If I got arrested, would you be heartbroken?”
She exhaled a puff of icy vapor. “No.”
“Maybe a little sad?”
“Let me put it this way. I wouldn’t turn you in.”
Her response surprised him. He had her pegged as a strictly law-abiding citizen who’d be delighted to see any criminal behind bars. But she was willing to make an exception for him. Either she liked him or she had a dark side that she kept hidden.
He turned to face the uphill terrain. “We’ll keep moving until we know we’re safe. Then we can double back to the road.”
The brief rest had allowed him to recover his strength. He slogged onward, wanting to put distance between them and the men with guns. In spite of the burn, his legs took on a steady rhythm as he climbed. Coming through a stand of trees, he realized that they’d reached the highest point on the hill. He maneuvered until he was standing on a boulder and waited for Rachel to join him.
“This is a good lookout point. Do you see anything?”
Together, they peered through the curtain of trees. The snowfall was thick. Heavy clouds had blocked out the light from the moon and stars.
“There.” She pointed down the hill.
The beams of a couple of flashlights flickered in the darkness. They weren’t far away. Maybe eighty yards. He and Rachel were within range of their semiautomatic weapons.
He ducked. She did the same.
The searchers were too close. His hope for escape vanished in the howling wind that sliced through the tree trunks. He and Rachel had left tracks in the snow that a blind man could follow. Peering over the edge of the boulder, he saw the flashlights moving closer. There was only one way out of this.
He slipped his arms out of the backpack. “Take the baby and run. Get as far away from here as you can.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ll distract them.”
Going up against men with superior firepower wasn’t as dumb as it sounded. Cole had the advantage of higher ground. If he waited until they got close, he might be able to take out one of them before the other responded.
“There’s something you haven’t considered,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“Snow.”
While they’d been climbing, the full force of the impending blizzard had gathered. The storm had taken on a fierce intensity.
She grabbed his arm and tugged. “They won’t be able to see us in the blizzard. The wind will cover our tracks.”
Great. He wouldn’t die in a hail of bullets. He’d freeze to death in a blizzard.
“Come on,” she urged. “I need you. Goldie needs you.”
He shouldered the pack again. Going downhill should have been easier, but his knees jolted with every step. At the foot of the slope, they approached an open area where the true velocity of the storm was apparent. The snow fell in sheets. His visibility was cut to only a few yards, but he figured they could cover more distance if they went straight ahead instead of weaving through the trees.
When he stepped into the open, he sank up to his knees. His jeans were wet. His fingers and toes were numb.
“Stay close to the trees,” Rachel said. “It’s not as deep.”
At the edge of the forest, the snow was over his ankles. He trudged through it, making a path for her to follow. One minute turned into ten. Ten into twenty. Inside his boots, his feet felt like frozen blocks of ice. The snow stung his cheeks. So cold, so damned cold. If he was this miserable what was happening to Goldie? Fear for the motherless newborn kept him moving forward. He had to protect this child, had to find shelter.
But he’d lost all sense of direction in the snow. As far as he could tell, they might be heading back toward the house.
Trying to get his bearings, he looked over his shoulder. He doubted that the bad guys were still in pursuit. Any sane person would have turned back by now.
As Rachel had predicted, the snows were already drifting, neatly erasing their tracks.
He couldn’t tell how far they’d gone. It felt like miles, endless miles. Needing a break, he stepped back into the shelter of the forest. His chest ached with the effort of breathing. His eyes were stinging. He squeezed his eyelids shut and opened them again. Squinting, he looked through the trees and saw a solid shape. A cabin. He blinked, hoping that his brain wasn’t playing tricks on him. “Rachel, do you see it?”
“A cabin.” Her voice trembled on the edge of a sob. “Thank God, it’s a cabin.”
He helped her up the small embankment, and they approached the rear of the cabin. No lights shone from inside.
The front door was sheltered by a small porch. Cole hammered against the green painted door with his frozen fist. No answer. Nobody home.
He tried the door handle and found it locked. He was carrying lock picks, but it was too cold to try a delicate manipulation of lock tumblers. He stepped back, prepared to use his body as a battering ram.
“Wait,” Rachel said. “Run your hand over the top sill. They might have left a key.”
“We need to get inside.” He was too damned cold and tired to perform a subtle search. “Why the hell would anybody bother to lock up and then leave a key?”
“This isn’t the city,” she said. “Some of these little cabins are weekend getaways with different families coming and going. Give it a try.”
He peeled off his glove. His fingers were wet and stiff, but he didn’t see the whitened skin indicating the first stage of frostbite. When he felt along the ledge above the door, he touched a key. It seemed that their luck had turned.
Shivering, he fitted the key into the lock and pushed open the door. He and Rachel tumbled inside. When he shut the door against the elements, an ominous silence wrapped around them.
RACHEL DISCARDED HER GLOVES and hit the light switch beside the door. The glow from an overhead light fixture spilled down upon them. They had electricity. So far, so good.
She unzipped her parka, glad that when she left the house this morning—an eternity ago—she’d been smart enough to dress for subzero weather. This jacket might have saved her life … and Goldie’s as well. She looked down at the tiny bundle she carried in the sling against her chest. The baby’s eyes were closed. She wasn’t moving. Please, God, let her be all right.
Cole hovered beside her, and she knew he was thinking the same thing.
Rachel slipped out of her jacket. Carefully, she braced the baby in her arms and adjusted the sling. Please, God.
Goldie’s eyes popped open and she let out a wail.
Rachel had never heard a more beautiful sound. “She’s okay. Yes, you are, Goldie. You’re all right.”
Looking up, she saw a similar relief in Cole’s ruddy face. He’d torn off his cap and his hair stood up in spikes. His lips were chapped and swollen. Moisture dripped from his leather jacket. In spite of his obvious discomfort, he smiled.
Grateful tears rose behind her eyelids, but she couldn’t let herself fall apart. “Are we safe?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “Tell me what Goldie needs.”
The interior of the cabin was one big, open room with a couple of sofas and chairs at one end and a large wooden table at the other. The kitchen area formed an L shape. A closed door against the back wall probably led into the bedroom. The most important feature, in her mind, was the freestanding propane gas fireplace. “See if you can get that heater going.”
She held Goldie against her shoulder, patting her back and soothing her cries. The poor little thing had to be starving. There was powdered formula in the backpack of supplies, but they needed water.
In the kitchen, Rachel turned the faucet in the sink and was rewarded with a steady flow. This simple, little cabin—probably a weekend getaway—had been well-prepared for winter. No doubt the owners had left the electricity on because the water pipes were wrapped in heat tape. The stove was electric.
Cole joined her. “The fireplace is on. What’s next?”
He looked like hell. Hiking through the blizzard had been more difficult for him than for her. Not only did he go first, but his jacket and boots also weren’t anywhere near as well-insulated as hers. She wanted to tell him to get out of his wet clothes, warm up and take care of himself, but she didn’t want to insult his masculine pride by suggesting he wasn’t in as good a shape as she was.
“Help me get stuff out of the backpack.”
Near the cheery blaze in the propane fireplace, they dug through the baby supplies and put together a nest of blankets for Goldie. When Rachel laid the baby down on the blankets, her cries faded. Goldie wriggled as her diaper was changed.
Cole frowned. “Is she supposed to look like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like a plucked chicken. I thought babies were supposed to have chubby arms and legs.”
“Don’t listen to him.” Rachel stroked Goldie’s fine, dark hair. “You’re gorgeous.”
“Yeah, people always say that. But not all babies are beautiful.”
“This is a golden child.” She zipped Goldie into a yellow micro-fleece sleep sack. “She’s beautiful, strong and brave—not even a day old and she’s already escaped a gang of thugs and made it through a blizzard.”
The baby’s chin tilted, and she seemed to be looking directly at Cole with her lips pursed.
He laughed. “She’s a tough little monkey.”
“Newborns are surprisingly resilient.” She held Goldie against her breast and stood. “I’m going to the kitchen to prepare the formula. Maybe you want to get out of those wet clothes.”
“What about you?”
Her jeans were wet and cold against her legs, and her feet were cold in spite of her lined, waterproof boots. “I’d love to take off my boots.”
“Sit,” he ordered.
Still holding the baby, she sank onto a rocking chair. The heat from the fireplace was making a difference in the room temperature. She couldn’t allow herself to get too comfortable or she’d surely fall asleep. This had been the longest day of her life; she’d attended at two birthings, been kidnapped and escaped through a blizzard.
Cole knelt before her and unfastened the laces on her boots. He eased the boot off her right foot, cradled her heel in his hand and massaged through her wool sock. His touch felt so good that she groaned with pleasure.
“Your feet are almost dry,” Cole said. “Where do I get boots like this?”
“Any outdoor clothing and equipment store.” Anyone who lived in the mountains knew how to shop for snow gear. “You’re not from around here.”
“L.A.,” he said.
This was the first bit of personal information he’d volunteered. She’d entrusted this man with her life even though she knew next to nothing about him. “What’s your last name?”
“McClure.” He pulled off the other boot. “And I’m not who you think I am.”
