Tracking Trisha

My husband, Steve, for believing in me and being proud enough of me to give me the courage to follow my dream. A special thanks to my sister and best friend, Linda, who not only encouraged me to write but read it as well.

TRACKING TRISHA

Copyright © 2011 by Susan E. Smith

First E-Book Publication
June
2012

Cover Design by S. E. Smith

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters, places, and events in this book are fictitious or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is strictly coincidental.

Synopsis

Trisha Grove enjoy
ed
her job as a pilot for Boswell International
but realizes something is still missing from her life – her family. She is ready to call it quits and head back home to Wyoming where her father lives. She never expected her last flight for Boswell
would end with an unplanned trip out of this world.
Trisha isn’t sure at first what is real and what isn’t; all she knows is she is determined to get back to her dad no matter what it takes.

Kelan Reykill is the fourth son in the royal line of Valdier. Commander of the
V’ager,
one of the largest Valdier warships, he prides himself on his strict self-discipline, his ability to remain in command in any situation, and his skill at handling any challenge. That is, until he meets a stubborn human female from the primitive planet his older brother sought refuge on. Now, all he can think about is how to get the female into his bed and under his control while staying in one piece.

When she is taken from him,
Kelan
will
track Trisha to the ends of the universe and further because he knows one thing – she is his true mate
and he will do anything; kill anyone, who tries to harm her.

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18,
please get a refund for this book
.
It is designed for the entertainment of mature readers only.

The large buck moved cautiously through the dense forest. It paused looking around. A shiver passed over its tan coat and its ears twitched back and forth trying to detect the slightest sound that was not natural to its habitat. Its large, dark brown eyes searched the nearby brush looking for the danger it could sense by not see. Taking a tentative step forward, it suddenly swirled and jumped quickly over a log, disappearing into the surrounding forest. A muttered curse exploded from the lips of the fig
ure l
ying silently on the ground. The man slowly rose out of his hiding place
, a large hunting knife in his hand
. He hadn’t eaten in three days. As he stood up brushing the leaves and branches off his shoulders and legs a sharp impact to the center of his back threw him forward where he laid still, knowing he had just been killed.

“Last target down.”
Trisha said softly into her mic
.

She calmly tucked the bow back into the harness clipped to her side and began working her way down the large tree she
was
in. Even as she moved, it was almost impossible to see her small form as she stayed to the shadows and covering of the branches. She jumped down the last couple of feet and moved to the man
who lay
prone on the damp, forest floor. Walking over to him with her pistol held tightly against her, she looked at the red stain spreading over his back.
A clean kill,
she thought,
severe
d
spine, arrow straight through the heart, no sound.

“Good job, baby girl.” A deep voice replied with pride. “That makes ten for ten. Tag target and come on in.”

Trisha grinned as she bent down and touched the target. “Tag, you’re it.” She said.

The man groaned as he turned over and looked up into the shining
dark,
brown eyes of the girl standing ove
r him. His only consolation
was he had been the last one tagged. The bad thing was it was by a twelve year old little girl. He was never going to live down the ribbing from the other guys in his squadron.

“Daddy says we can come in now.” Trisha said as she reached out a hand to help the
soldier
who was going through an intensive wilderness survival training program with Trisha’s
dad
.

“
What gave me away?” The man grumbled as he slowly got to his feet again.

“Your stomach.” Trisha replied with a grin. “You should have eaten those bugs two days ago or some of the fish left over from the grizzly yesterday. They weren’t too bad.”

The man just grunted as he rotated his shoulders trying to ease the pain where Trisha shot him with the arrow. The tips were designed with an ink pack on them so when they hit the target, it was noticeable to the instructors. The problem was it still hurt like hell. He would be sporting a softball size bruise for at least a week.

“How did you know about the bugs and the fish?” The man asked as he tried to look over his shoulder to see what kind of shape he would have been in if she shot him with a real arrow.

“Oh, about an hour after you left I found your trail. You left some really good tracks and it wasn’t too hard to follow you. Anyway, I watched you as tried to decide if you were going to eat them.” Trisha replied as she stepped over a log. “By the way, I severed your spinal column and the arrow would have gone into your heart killing you instantly.”

The man shook his head in wonder. What kind of father would teach his little girl how to track, hunt, and kill for fun? He heard of the father/daughter team from some of the other
Navy Seals
who had gone through the training. None of them ever made it through the first time without getting killed. Very few, if any, ever made it through the second or third time. Once they made it through, the father would send them in again, only this time he would send his daughter in after them. None ever survived.

“Why didn’t you kill me earlier?” The man asked. He followed the small figure in front of him without questioning her whether she knew where they were at, much less where they were going.

“Oh, I like studying my prey to see how it thinks. Daddy says you can learn a lot about a person by studying the way they react to things that are going on around them. You did a good job once you realized I was tracking you. I liked how you used the river to try to cover your tracks.” Trisha said turning towards a narrow animal trail.

“Thanks.” The man grumbled again.

Dante Rodriguez listened as Trisha explained all the things she noticed him doing right and pointed out some things he did wrong. He shook his head thinking it was hard to believe he was listening to a twelve year old. She seemed much older. She moved with an easy grace and confidence which told of her knowledge, experience, and comfort at being in her present environment. He remembered laughing with the other nine guys in his squadron when his commanding officer told them they were going to participate in a wilderness survival camp held by Grove Wilderness Guides, a private company that worked out of Wyoming. The guys all joked that if they could survive basic training and Camp Coronado, they could survive anything. Obviously, the U. S.
Navy Seals
never expected they would be up against the skills of a very talented twelve year old girl.

“Daddy!” Trisha squealed suddenly and took off at a run. Dante watched as her slim shape was engulfed in a hug by a huge, bear of a man.

Later that night, Trisha lay on the roof outside her bedroom window. Her dad
was
sa
ying
goodbye to the last of their clients and she was waiting for him in their favorite spot. Her eyes lit up as the big, muscular frame of her father crawled through the narrow opening without a sound. A moment later, he reclined his huge frame down next to her and they both stared silently up at the night sky.

“You did real good, baby girl.” Her dad said in a gruff voice. “Your mom and I are real proud of you.”

Trisha smiled as she stared up at the twinkling stars. “Which one is she on tonight?” Trisha asked softly.

Her dad pointed to a bright spot. “That one.” He replied just as quietly. “Your mom’s on that star tonight looking down on you. Can you hear her? She’s telling me what a beautiful, young lady you are turning out to be and how proud she is of you.”

Trisha smiled up at the star her dad pointed out. “I’m glad. One day I’m going to fly up there and find her.” Trisha said before she turned her head to look at her dad. “And, when I do, I’m going to take you with me.”

Trisha’s dad, Paul, kept his eyes focused on the star he had chosen tonight. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. His throat was tight from holding in the tears at the innocence in his only daughter’s promise. Since his wife died from a brain aneurism when Trisha was a year old, it
was
just him and her. Every night they would lay out under the stars and pick a different one. He reached over and gently cupped Trisha’s small hand in his larger one.

“You do that, baby girl. You do that and I’ll be happy to go with you.” He finally said.

Trisha Grove grimaced at the faint scars marring her flat sto
mach. One large one and a half-
dozen smaller ones fanned out in different directions. She pulled the black top of her uniform down to cover them and turned away from the mirror. She pictured a nice, sturdy metal filing cabinet in her mind. Once she had a clear vision of it, she mentally put all her bad memories in it and locked it securely, throwing away the key. The damn thing always found a way to open itself up but it was taking longer and longer for it to do so, she thought in satisfaction.