RedemptionRidge (2 page)

Chapter Three

On instinct, Cecelia dropped to the ground. Her palms fell
on rain-soaked pine needles and brambles, burning and sticking. She expected to
see Jake fall and to feel Peter’s anger on her head. Instead her ex dropped
like a rock, crumpling as a puppet does when its master decides the show is
over. Peter was a rag doll in the dirt, his eyes staring at her and unblinking.
Relief kept her on her hands and knees, weak and still trying to catch her
breath.

Confusion whirled in her head and time seemed to slow. Jake
was saying something to her, shouting above another vicious roar of thunder.
She could see his lips moving and that was all. He ran to Peter and checked
vitals.

Jake started her way, and he’d put his gun away somewhere.

Unbidden fear rose up. Jake was an unknown. Another
stranger.

She came to her feet in a rush, her ankle protesting. She
put a hand out in defense. “Don’t touch me.”

He halted, eyes narrowed. With a sharply cut jaw, dark brows
and a cruel mouth, he would frighten the hell out of most women. A day’s worth
of beard made him more pirate than savior. Which one was he?

“Are you all right?” Jake’s eyes held genuine concern. “Are
you hurt?”

His voice had a rumbling quality, a low and lingering sound
that brushed against nerves she didn’t know she had until now. Fear still owned
the day. How could he be so cool when he’d just killed a man?

“You shot him.” Her words came out calm. She was stunned,
unable to put two thoughts together that made much sense.

“Yeah.” One of his dark brows tilted upward, for the moment
Jake looked more devil than saint.

Many men would have defended what they’d done, pointed out
the obvious, that Peter had shot first. She’d seen Peter shoot, seen this man
drop to one knee and take aim a split second later.

She covered her face as reality crawled its way around
inside her like a worm and threatened to eat her alive. “Maybe I could have
done something to stop it.”

He grunted. “From where I was standing it looked cut and
dried what would happen if I hadn’t stopped him. He would have killed you and
me both given the chance.”

His answer was given in dispassionate tones but as she
looked at him closer she saw his chest rising and falling with agitation. Anger
filled his eyes. Was it directed toward her or the dead man?

He ran his hand over his face. “Who was he?”

“My ex-husband. I can’t believe that dirtbag was
ever
my husband.”

She wanted to scream and maybe to cry. Anything calmer and
more reasonable would seem ridiculous and unfeeling under the circumstances.

He held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s get you someplace
warm.”

She stared at his outstretched hand. “You…do you have a cell
phone? We have to call the cops.”

“Yeah, but it’s dead.” Thunder rumbled and blocked his next
words. He tried again. “I was driving back to my cabin when my crappy car died.
Then I tried my cheap cell phone and it’s dead too. I’m not much of a mechanic,
so the car is toast until I can call the auto club. The rain started and I
guess your ex didn’t see me at the side of the road. When he stopped a hundred
yards down I saw him get out of the car. I headed toward him hoping he’d have a
cell phone. That’s when I saw him take you out of the trunk.”

“And you followed us,” she whispered.

He nodded.

Shame and gratefulness mixed with fear still bounced around
in her. “You put your life on the line for me. Not many people would do that.”

“I know a lot of people who would have done the same thing.”

His modesty impressed her too. “Oh God. I’m so sorry. I…he
could have killed you. Thank God he was always a lousy shot.” An inappropriate
and humorless laugh escaped. “I thought all he had was a knife.”

She closed her eyes and rain ran down her eyelids, across
her face, and teased her lips. Shivers racked her body without remorse. She
wrapped her arms around herself, and when she opened her eyes her rescuer had
stepped nearer.

He took another step closer and then another. “Don’t
apologize for him. A man should never put his hands on a woman in anger. No excuses.
Ever.”

She’d heard the platitudes before but never from the men in
her life. Old habits died hard though, and distrust stayed.

“You expect me to believe your car and your cell phone died
at the same time?” she asked in suspicion.

He snorted. “Hell no. I wouldn’t believe it either, but it’s
true.”

She realized with a jolt that he stood close to her now. She
took a step away, a fine trembling radiating from her center.

“Don’t be afraid. You’re safe now,” he said.

She shook her head, feeling out of sorts and confused by
everything. What should she feel, and could she trust this man? Slowly, as if
she might be a scared animal ready to bolt, he put his hands on her shoulders.
He squeezed gently. When she looked up at him, he towered over her. In the low
light she could see his eyes were liquid brown, at once penetrating but soft
with understanding. Tall, dark and handsome didn’t describe him. No, that
description was too damn bland. He was over six feet of lethal male
testosterone with smoldering eyes and a lean but powerful build. He wore a blue
rain jacket of some kind, jeans and white athletic shoes. His voice held a
smoky essence that made a low, sweet arousal burn in her stomach. He didn’t
smile much but he was always polite, and the way he looked at her—well, she
might have imagined the hunger she saw in his eyes all those times he stopped
by the Tastee Freez. One of the women she worked with had asked him out but
he’d turned her down, or so the woman had said. The woman had promptly
suggested Jake was gay but Cecelia didn’t believe it.

Trust your gut.
Janey had always said that too.

“You killed a man,” she said, knowing how stupid and obvious
it sounded but unable to utter another coherent statement.

He nodded and took a big breath. He released it gradually
between his parted lips. “Yeah.”

“How can you be so calm?”

“I’m not. But it’s not the first time for me.”

A tingle darted up her spine. “What?”

He released her shoulders and held out his hand. “Jake
McNamara. We’ve never been officially introduced.”

She shook his hand and his big palm fit snugly around hers.
His grip squeezed firmly but gently. He released her promptly.

“You’re in the military right?”

“U.S. Army.”

It came clear to her, and she wondered why her brain was so
damn sluggish. “You killed people in the desert.”

One of those small nods again. She dared look into his
intense eyes and saw the truth. He’d killed, but he’d done it to survive. Not
for the joy of it. How she knew that, she couldn’t say.

“Sure you’re not hurt?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine.” She glanced over at Peter, so still and
lifeless. Her stomach lurched. The dark stain on Peter’s chest told her in no
uncertain terms where the bullet had hit him. Rain soaked his body, just as it
did hers. Shocks of lightning darted overhead, so close she should have
flinched. Yet she was numb, cold to the bone emotionally and physically.

“We need to get help,” she said.

“What we need is to go back to my car. I’ve got water, a
Thermos of coffee and some trail mix. That’ll hold us until this rain stops. I
don’t think we should try to walk down until it clears up.”

She glanced around. “We’re close to Redemption Ridge?”

He gestured with one thumb back down the hill. “Ten miles
that way.”

Rain came down harder. “What were you doing out here?”

“I was on my way up to the cabin I’m staying at for a
month’s leave.”

She heard secrets in his voice but didn’t dare ask what they
were in this situation. She rubbed her cold hands together.

“Do you live in Redemption Ridge?” he asked.

“Yes.” Another round of shaking took hold of her. “I need to
get back there. I’m scheduled to work at the mall tonight at Ladies Luxuries.
If I’m late—”

“Whoa. I don’t think you’ll work tonight. Once we get to the
cops there will be a hell of a lot of explaining to do.”

She rubbed her forehead as pain throbbed in her temple. Fear
spiked as she imagined what might happen. “Right. Of course.”

“It’s okay. Give yourself slack. It was self-defense. He
kidnapped you. I know that and so do you. We’ll clear it up.”

“I’m glad you’re so positive. I’m not.”

“Both of us are innocent of any wrongdoing. Your ex intended
to kill you.”

She knew it, and yet what had happened rocked through her
like the storm above. The storm didn’t care about her drama—thunder rumbled
like an earthquake under her feet, her body so soaked now she wondered if she’d
ever be dry again. She felt sick to her stomach.

“Look I’m not sorry about your ex,” he said. “Hate me if you
want but I wasn’t going to stand by and let him hurt or kill you.”

She closed her eyes temporarily. “I don’t hate you. I
thought I was going to die unless I fought him off.”

When he lifted his hand to wipe rain off his face, she saw
his fingers shake. The man might be cool under pressure but what had happened
bothered him too.

A sharp pain lanced through her ankle when she took a step
and she gasped.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Damn ankle. I twisted it when Peter threw me in the trunk.”
Without a word he lifted her into his arms as if she weighed no more than a
feather. “Wait. I can walk.”

He grunted and started to walk back to the road. “I’ve got
you.”

Cecelia decided she had to trust a man someday. Maybe
tonight was as good as any other time.

Chapter Four

Jake’s old blue truck came into view after a short walk.

He put her on her feet on the driver’s side and opened the
truck. “I know you don’t trust me one hundred percent.” He handed her the keys.
“Try and start the truck. You’ll know I’m telling the truth.”

Surprised by the gesture, she took him up on it. She slid
into the driver’s side and tried to start the automatic. No such luck.

Satisfied, she gave him the keys. “Thanks.”

She slid across the bench seat to the passenger side and
sank into the warm interior with a grateful sigh. Before she knew it he was
inside the truck beside her.

He opened the glove box and retrieved a small flip phone.
“Here. Try the phone.”

Automatically she opened it, and discovered it was as dead
as a rock. Just as he’d said.

“You don’t have a cell phone on you anywhere, do you?” he
asked, hope in his eyes.

“No. Peter dumped my purse on the sidewalk when he grabbed
me at the mall.”

“Someone probably found your purse by now and has called the
cops.”

She hoped.

“She gave him the quick-and-dirty version of what happened
when she’d left her job at the Tastee Freez.

He poured black coffee into the Thermos cup and handed it to
her. “This’ll take the edge off.”

She laughed. “Got any whiskey?”

“Wish I did.”

She sipped gratefully. “This is great coffee.”

He grinned, but it was short-lived. “One of my few talents.
My last girlfriend thought it was too strong.”

“Last girlfriend?”

He shrugged. “She thought I should dye my hair blond and get
manicures. Said it would take my edge off.”

Cecelia wrinkled her nose. Jake in blond hair? “I think I
like your edge.”

A half smile curved his lips. “I’m better off without her.
She sent me a Dear John letter while I was in Afghanistan.”

For one moment she tried to imagine sending this man a Dear
John letter and couldn’t. Obviously the woman was a fool. True, Cecelia didn’t
know much about Jake, but what she’d learned so far…
wow
.

As she allowed the hot beverage to thaw her, she watched the
storm. She couldn’t see a thing with water streaming down the windows, the
steady pounding rain adding a humming background noise to their seclusion. He
reached for the glove compartment again and fished out a flashlight. “We’ll use
it sparingly.”

As Cecelia watched him take care of their situation, she
told herself she shouldn’t feel secure in this stranger’s presence. Yet
everything about him said he only meant to keep her safe.

“I’ve seen that look before,” he said when she paused to
stare at him. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and drew out a
wallet. He handed it to her. “Rifle through it all you like if it’ll make you
feel any better.”

All the things you’d expect to find in a wallet were there.
A credit card, Arizona driver’s license declaring he was Jake Morgan McNamara
age thirty-five. A military identification card proved he was a major in the
army.

“Satisfied?” he asked.

“Are you from Arizona originally?”

“Yeah. Near Pinetop. I grew up there.”

“Not so far from Redemption Ridge.”

“No.” He opened the bag of trail mix and grabbed a handful.
“You should eat a bit. You look shaky.”

She did as he suggested and realized she was ravenous. She
ate one handful and then another before stopping. She didn’t want to make
herself sick.

After she took another sip of coffee she said, “We should be
hoofing it out of here to the police.”

“You aren’t walking ten miles on that ankle. Besides, ten
miles is a long walk with lightning like this.” She remembered the lightning
striking the tree, and as if he could read her mind, he said, “You almost got
hit.”

“True. I just feel guilty sitting here waiting. You’re a
soldier. I’m sure it’s no trouble for you to walk ten miles.”

He smiled, and this time it lit his eyes and touched his
mouth with genuine warmth. When he looked at her she felt an entirely
inappropriate and shocking reaction. He stripped off his jacket to reveal a
plain navy blue t-shirt and she got an unmistakable view of broad shoulders,
strong chest and powerful arms. The man was ripped. Her mouth went dry and she
gulped more coffee.

His gaze did an impersonal assessment of her. “You could
walk farther than that if you had to.”

One more glance at the weather gave her doubts. Water rushed
across the road and night crept through the thunderstorm. Lightning threw
strange shadows around the truck and Jake McNamara looked more dangerous than
ever. Which was worse? A raging storm or a lethal soldier?

As if he’d read her mind he said, “I’m not going to hurt
you. I don’t hurt women, I protect them.”

A strange sensation, a warm curling of forbidden excitement,
did a dance in her stomach.
God, I’m sick. Perfectly sick.
Finding this
man attractive right here and now was twisted. She’d heard men and women
sometimes had a sexual reactions and urges right after surviving a brush with
death. That’s all this was. Nothing more.

“Forgive me if I don’t have a whole lot of trust right now,”
she said in defense against the odd arousal.

“It’s all right.”

His calm acceptance was different too. She wasn’t used to
any man accepting her disagreement.

She couldn’t acknowledge him, that one little bit of caution
remaining. As she flipped through the rest of his wallet she saw a photograph
that made her breath catch. Jake dressed in military dress blues next to a
beautiful blonde woman in a wedding dress. Happiness was in every inch of his
face and the woman’s.

“Are you… Is this your wife?” she asked.

“My sister. Her husband is my best friend. I was one of the
groomsmen at their wedding two years ago.”

A weird and crazy relief went through her. She handed him
the wallet.

“Trust me now?” he asked.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” She took another slow sip of the coffee
then held out the Thermos cup. “Sorry. Did you want some?”

“No. Drink up and get warm.” Silence surrounded them a short
time before he said, “You never told me your name.”

“Cecelia Finnegan.”

“Irish?”

“Yep. Just like you I’ll bet.”

“My grandfather McNamara was from Northern Ireland. I went
back there when I was a teenager on a family visit.”

She’d always wanted to go to Ireland and her thoughts rushed
out. “That’s wonderful. My great-great grandparents were from County Mayo.”

“Belfast for my ancestors. Linen makers.”

Her hard-won cynicism came to the forefront. “God, I can’t
believe we’re sitting here talking about Irish ancestors.”

What could she say? How could she say it? She hadn’t just
watched her ex-husband be murdered. It was self-defense and she knew it. Still,
it had opened a crack in her a mile wide she didn’t know how to fill.

“I can’t believe you were married to that scumbag,” he said.

“I divorced him two years ago when he was caught drug
smuggling for a Mexican cartel.”

“Jesus. How did you get mixed up in that?”

She snorted. “Sheer stupidity. I’ve known Peter since we
were high school sweethearts. I trusted him when I shouldn’t have.”

“Let me guess. A cheerleader and a football player.”

She wanted to laugh at his accuracy but couldn’t find any
humor in it. “Close. He was a soccer player and I was prom queen.” He refilled
her coffee. She held the cup between both palms and tried to absorb some warmth
into her chilled body. “After college he started acting weird. He was
unreliable, angry all the time. I called off our engagement. Five years ago he
came back into my life. Everything had gone to crap for me. My parents were…”
God, she couldn’t believe she was telling him this.

When she stopped, he waited. What the hell? Maybe talking
about her whole messy life would make her feel better.

“My parents weren’t who I thought they were,” she said.

Jake shrugged. “Doesn’t seem unusual to me. My dad is colder
than a fish and my mother something of a doormat. It took me until I was
fifteen to get it through my head their relationship wasn’t the way it should
be between a man and a woman.”

His statement took her by surprise but it gave her strength
as well. Maybe her situation wasn’t as odd as she’d believed.

“Only child?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“Me too.”

Silence found them, and she wiped at one of the foggy
windows and tried to see outside. Night had grown closer, darkening the shadows
and making it harder to see. Inside this warm haven she started to feel more at
ease even though her clothes were soaked.

“My father was a lawyer and my mother a homemaker,” she
finally said. “They lived a traditional life, very conservative. At least
that’s what I thought. They were churchgoing. I didn’t like one minute of it
but I did it because they said I had to.”

“Sounds like a normal childhood in that respect.”

“Maybe it was. Until I found out Dad was having an affair
with this other couple at the church.”

One of his dark brows went up. “Couple?”

“You heard it right. He was having sex with both of them. I
didn’t care that he was bisexual. I cared that he cheated on my mother. But
that wasn’t all. It turns out I’m not even his real daughter.”

Jake’s eyes widened. “You’re serious?”

“Mom told me right after we found out about my father’s
affair. I’m the product of a one-night stand when she was pissed at my father.”

“Heavy stuff.”

She was on a roll. “After that I got real dumb real fast. I
was twenty and had all the brains of a beetle apparently.”

He tilted his handsome head to one side. “Hell no. I don’t
believe that.”

“I did drugs. At college, I woke up one morning in the bed
of this other college student. I didn’t even remember sleeping with the guy, or
whether I’d used birth control or…you get the picture.” She caught the cynical
look in his eyes. “I know this sounds like a soap opera. Like I’m lying through
my teeth.”

He leaned back against the window and folded his arms over
his chest. “I believe you.”

“Anyway, after that I just made one wrong decision after
another. Dropped out of college, slept around. Found drugs. I was lost.”

Unlike the distaste she’d seen in many other’s faces when
she’d told them her life story, Jake’s eyes warmed with understanding.

“You’re pretty hard on yourself,” he said.

Tension tightened the muscles at the back of her neck and
she rubbed at them. She screwed the empty Thermos top back onto the container.
“There’s a good reason. I got into rehab with help from friends after I spent a
week on the streets. But then I hooked up with Peter again and discovered we’d
taken similar screwed-up paths. He claimed to have cleaned up his act too. A
few years later he was arrested on the drug charges. We went bankrupt; I lost
my legal assistant job. The cops looked at me as a person of interest for a
long time until I was able to prove I didn’t know about Peter’s association
with drug cartels.” The ache in her throat kept her on a roll. “My self-esteem
was so mangled that I believed every time he belted me in the mouth that I
deserved it.”

“Damn.” He whispered low and gravelly, as if he almost
couldn’t speak.

He ran a hand over his hair, a few strands sticking up, wet
and unruly. “And here I thought I had the run on SNAFU.”

“Are you going to one-up me?”

“I might. I just might.” He sighed deeply.

She waited, curiosity draining away some of the fear that
had threatened to unravel her earlier.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the
headrest. “Dad was a car salesman and a stereotypical smarmy bastard to
customers. All his charm turned off when it came to the family. Mom was
weak-willed for most of their marriage and did whatever he told her to do. I
lost a lot of respect for her when I was a kid because she didn’t protect me
from his verbal abuse.”

“Is your father alive?”

“Yeah. Mom got the bravery to divorce him three years ago.
She went to school and got training in secretarial skills. She works for a
doctor’s office. She doesn’t make much money but she has her freedom and
self-respect. I admire her for it.”

“And your father? Do you respect him?”

Jake took a big breath and opened his eyes. “After my mother
divorced him he disappeared. We haven’t seen or heard from him since. I’ve
thought about hiring a private detective to find him but…”

“But?”

“I’m still damned pissed at him. I’m not sure I want to find
him. Not right now.”

“Well look at how you turned out. You rescue women from
asshats. That’s pretty heroic.”

He snorted. “Me? There’s no way I’m a hero.”

The vehemence in his voice made her curious. What could have
happened to him to make him believe that?