Page 1 of Valor (Long Hot Summer: Christian Romantic Suspense #2)

CHAPTER ONE

Owen Ross hunched low in the front seat of the rusty dark-green pickup truck that he’d parked halfway down a dirt track well off the main road as he waited for his drug cartel contact to arrive. It felt strange to be back in the game. This was his first time reaching out to his contacts since January, when he’d been shot and nearly arrested along with the rest of his crew.

He’d never expected to survive when he’d escaped five months ago, weak and fighting off a life-threatening infection. And it was clear from the call he’d finally made to Will Minor, the Colorado cop who worked with Colin Granger of the DEA, that both men had written him off as dead and buried too.

He knew he should have died that night. He didn’t believe in God the way Emily did, but it was hard to explain how his snowmobile had taken him as far as Doc’s run-down ranch before sputtering out of gas. The registered nurse his crew had kidnapped had taken good care of him, and thankfully, Doc had picked up where Emily had left off.

Emily. He gave himself a mental shake. He had no business thinking of Emily Sanders. She was beautiful, sweet, kind, and honest. Everything he wasn’t. Yet even as Doc, a retired veterinarian, treated him with antibiotics that were intended for his horses, Owen had been preoccupied with thoughts of Emily. Yearning for her touch. Her voice. Her caring.

Enough. Emily was back home where she belonged. And he still had a job to do.

His revenge had carried him forward this past year. Over twelve months of being associated with low-life scumbags while searching for the man at the top of the food chain. Domingo Hernandez, the man he knew had brutally murdered his younger brother, Oliver. His brother had turned to a life of crime, but he hadn’t deserved to die for his sins.

Especially since much of the fault for Oliver’s actions rested solely on Owen’s shoulders.

Yet his desperate thirst for revenge had faded since his injury and subsequent recovery. To the point he’d even considered packing up to go back home.

Then he’d remembered Oliver’s once innocent face. His brother’s desperate attempt to care for their ill mother. Two harsh reminders that this was no time for him to go soft. Not until he’d accomplished his mission.

Even if that meant risking another go-around with death.

So be it. If that meant joining his brother and mother in the afterlife—assuming there was one—then he’d accept his fate.

But he’d make sure to bring Domingo Hernandez down with him.

And the first step in achieving that goal was to get back into the drug business. Hence his meeting with Juan Sanchez. Juan was one of the few men he knew that still worked for Hernandez. Owen’s goal was to convince Juan to bring him back into the fold.

A rustling sound caught his attention. Because of the mild spring air, he’d decided to wait with his truck windows open. He scrunched lower in the seat, listening intently. Juan should be there any minute, but the drug runner should be arriving by car.

Not skulking through the woods.

Something wasn’t right. Every one of Owen’s senses had kicked into high gear. He’d spent enough time in the mountains recovering from his gunshot wound that he was keenly aware of the usual bird and wildlife noises.

None of which were present now.

Another rustling sound. He cocked his head, trying to pinpoint the general location in his mind. To his right and somewhat behind his truck.

He pulled his weapon—the one that he was not legally allowed to carry. Thankfully, just about everyone in Cody, Wyoming, carried a side arm, so he wouldn’t be required to produce his permit. At least, not without provocation.

Owen took a calming breath, then abruptly opened his driver’s side door and rolled out of the truck, landing on his knees. At the exact same time, the pop, pop, pop of gunfire rang out as several rounds punctured the vehicle. Using the battered truck as cover, he rose just enough to pinpoint the man standing partially behind a tree and returned fire.

Hearing a gasp of pain, he wanted to believe he’d hit the shooter. But he ducked and stayed where he was, waiting and listening for more gunfire.

The seconds ticked by for a full minute. Then two. Then five.

He couldn’t stay there forever. Easing along the side of the truck, he peeked over the top of the truck bed to scan the woods. Spying the man sprawled on the ground, he narrowed his gaze and continued to wait.

When the sounds of wildlife returned, he knew the threat was over. The guy who’d fired at him must have come alone. Owen rose and hurried over to the fallen man. Up close, he could see his aim had been true. The gunman had fired a half dozen rounds into his truck. Owen had only fired twice, and one bullet was embedded in the right side of his chest. He checked for a pulse and found nothing.

The guy was dead. And worse, Owen had never seen him before in his life. He wasn’t Juan Sanchez, that’s for sure. The guy who could have been part Hispanic appeared to be in his early thirties and dressed in typical jeans, western shirt, and belt buckle, along with hiking boots. After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled out his phone and took a picture of the dead man’s face.

Then he headed out to make a quick circle around the area. He didn’t see the guy’s vehicle. How far had he come on foot? Returning to the dead man, Owen dug in his pockets and found a key fob but no wallet or driver’s license. Maybe they were in the car. Or maybe the guy had purposefully left all identifying information behind.

The western version of a hit man? Hired by Juan Sanchez? His law enforcement contact, Will Minor? Or Colin Granger of the Colorado DEA?

Maybe even Domingo Hernandez himself?

Frustrated, Owen slowly backed away from the dead man. He hit the key fob and followed the sound of the chirping alarm to the source. After a minute, he spotted the SUV several yards behind their designated meeting spot. Jogging toward it, he quickly searched the vehicle but didn’t find anything of interest inside.

He sighed and slid in behind the wheel. The green truck he’d stolen was of no use to him now. Not with all the bullet holes in the thing. Besides, the dead man had shown up here with the sole intent to eliminate him.

Why? Because he’d survived and was considered a threat? There were only a handful of people who knew he was alive. Juan Sanchez, Will Minor, and Colin Granger. Well, and anyone else they talked to about him. Owen frowned, started the engine of the SUV, and backed out of the scrub brush where the gunman had parked it. Heading to the road, he reluctantly decided to drive back to Cody.

Owen did not have a good feeling about this. The meeting with Juan Sanchez had been a setup. Someone wanted him dead.

And he had a bad feeling that whoever it was might know more about his past than he liked. Not just the reasons he’d set about this mission.

But those who had helped him along the way. Like Emily.

Was it possible one of the guys from his original crew talked to someone within Hernandez’s organization? He’d assumed Emily’s brother, Doug, had arrested them all, but maybe one had managed to get a message out to the rest.

Or there was yet another inside leak within law enforcement working with Hernandez. Owen smacked his hand on the steering wheel and stomped hard on the accelerator. He’d purposefully stayed away from Emily for her sake more than anything. But that was no longer an option.

First and foremost, he needed to make sure she was okay. From there, he’d have to come up with a plan.

Too bad, he had no idea whom he could trust.

* * *

Emily Sanders yawned as she walked home from her night shift at the hospital. It was Thursday morning, and she had the next four days off in a row. But rather than making plans to do something fun, the only thing she cared about was getting caught up on sleep.

Working twelve-hour night shifts was wearing on her. And while she loved her job as a registered nurse in the busy emergency department, she couldn’t wait to be switched over to the day shift.

Three months and counting. By late August, she’d be on a normal regular schedule like the rest of the world.

She yawned again and blinked to keep focused on her surroundings. This was part of the reason she walked home in the spring and summer months. She only lived ten blocks from the hospital. Being outside in the fresh air provided a badly needed sense of peace after dealing with the onslaught of patients.

People were up and about, heading off to work. Two of her neighbors waved as they drove past. She returned the gesture with a smile of acknowledgment. Thanks to the kidnapping incident this past January, she’d become somewhat of a local celebrity.

Although in truth, she’d spent the past five months trying to forget about Owen. Not just because he was part of a drug-dealing operation, but because she suspected he was dead. Now that the snow had mostly melted in the warm May sunshine, she scoured the online local newspaper every day searching for information on any dead bodies that may have been found in the woods.

She’d even considered asking her half brother Doug Bridges’s in-laws to help search the area where she’d last seen Owen alive. Doug was happily married to Maya Sullivan, of the infamous Sullivan K9 Search and Rescue Ranch. Maya and her younger siblings had trained search and rescue K9 dogs that were used to find lost people, dead bodies, drugs, and anything else she could think of. If there was a way to find Owen’s body, she was certain the Sullivans could make that happen.

But Doug had made it clear he wanted her to move on from those hours she’d spent with Owen. He got upset if she so much as asked about how the investigation into Owen was going. So much so that she’d stopped asking.

Accepting that her brother was right about one thing—being obsessed with an outlaw wasn’t healthy.

She’d tried to take her brother’s advice to heart. To get back out in the dating world. To meet new people. But she hadn’t gotten very far.

Sure, she’d dated a few guys, but she hadn’t experienced that spark of attraction. Her fault, she knew. She needed to get the mysterious Owen out of her head once and for all. Because even if he wasn’t dead, which she felt sure he must be, he was still a criminal. And if found, he’d be arrested and tossed in jail.

Doug would make sure of that.

Pushing the ridiculous thoughts away, she turned up her driveway. Thanks to Doug replacing her front door, she had a brand-new keypad entry that was electronically connected to her camera doorbell. Unbeknownst to her brother, she’d turned off the alerts for the doorbell camera because the stupid thing would go off every single time a car drove by. Or a neighbor walked their dog. Or even when the occasional white-tailed deer or elk would mosey past.

Talk about annoying! Especially when she was trying to sleep during the daytime hours.

It wasn’t like Cody, Wyoming, was a hotbed of crime. Her experience of being kidnapped to take care of Owen’s gunshot wound was a rare exception. Trudging to the kitchen, she opened the fridge and grabbed a Greek yogurt and a container of blueberries. Before she could peel away the top of the yogurt container, she heard a voice and froze.

“Hi, Emily.”

She whirled, squeezing the yogurt so hard she was surprised it didn’t burst in her hand. When she saw Owen sitting in her living room chair, she had the crazy idea that thinking of him had conjured his ghost.

But then he rose and took a few steps toward her. Not a ghost. A flesh and blood man. She instinctively backed away. “H-how did you get in here?”

“I’ve watched you punch in the code.” He shrugged as if the challenge had been negligible. “How have you been?”

She carefully set the yogurt and blueberries aside so that her hands were free. Owen looked better than the last time she’d seen him. For one thing, he could stand without needing assistance. His color was good, and he appeared to have healed completely from his infected gunshot wound.

Her gaze landed on the gun that he wore in a holster attached to his belt. Seeing the weapon should have alarmed her. Being alone with Owen at all should have alarmed her.

But she wasn’t afraid of him. Although maybe she should have been.

“Why are you here?” She crossed her arms over her chest to keep herself calm. “What do you want? You must know the police are still looking for you.”

“Are they?” The way he answered her questions with another question was annoying. “Seems they’re not the only ones.”

What did that mean? She searched his blue eyes for a hint of... what? His feelings for her? She inwardly scoffed at her foolishness. “Let me guess. You want money or a car.”

He averted his gaze. Her heart sank. Of course, he wasn’t there because he wanted to see her. Or because he’d missed her.

“You want my car?” She threw up her hands, irritated that he’d come to take advantage of the situation. “Fine. Take it. I don’t care. Just get out of here. And fast. Before I decide to send my brother after you.”

“I’m not here for your car.” His low, husky voice sent shivers of awareness dancing along her nerves. What was it about him? Why did she care so much? “I’m here to check on you. To make sure you’re okay.”

“Of course I’m okay.” She did her best to sound nonchalant, despite the way her stomach was twisted into knots. “Why do you care anyway? You should be far away from here, Owen. I figured if you were alive, you’d have skipped out of the state by now. Not smart to stick around.” She waved toward the street outside her home. “You should hit the road. I’ll even give you a head start before I call the police.”

“You won’t call the police.” He took another step toward her. She tried to back up but was pressed against the kitchen counter. “You never once reached for your phone.”

The man was infuriatingly right. Calling the police should have been the first thought that entered her mind. Instead, she’d been hit by a wave of relief over knowing he was alive. That despite escaping in the middle of a blizzard while running a fever from an infection, Owen hadn’t died in the snow.

“You haven’t noticed anyone following you? Hanging out nearby? Watching you?” Owen was in the kitchen now, and within arm’s reach.

“No, of course not.” She winced at how breathless her voice sounded. Then the realization of what he was asking sank in. “What are you saying? Do you think someone might come here looking for you?”

“Yeah, exactly.” He held her gaze. Up close, she could see that he was completely healed from his infected wound. He may have lost some weight over his ordeal, but it appeared as if he’d rebuilt his muscle mass. And his tanned skin indicated he’d spent some time in the sun.

“So you came here to prove them right?” She tipped her chin, doing her best to hide her weakness for him. “Great, thanks for doing that. I hope the bad guys you work with didn’t follow you here.”

“I made sure I wasn’t followed, and yeah, I know it was a risk to come back. I had to make sure you were okay.” He raked his gaze over her, and she felt as if he could see through to her heart. “And maybe I just wanted to see you one last time.”

Her breath caught in her throat. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, but then she reminded herself that Owen was a criminal. He worked with drug dealers. He ruined innocent people’s lives.

She refused to be so messed up as to be attracted to a guy like him. He might be drop-dead gorgeous on the outside, but what sort of man could he be on the inside to do something as heinous as selling drugs? She gathered every ounce of her inner strength and narrowed her gaze. “Goodbye, Owen. Have a nice life until the police catch up with you.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile. The first since she’d known him. “You’re cute when you’re mad, Em. Very cute.”

She rolled her eyes and pushed away from the counter. Enough was enough. She wasn’t going to be like those pathetic women on reality TV shows who get involved with criminals doing jail time. “And you’re still a low-life scumbag buying and selling drugs.”

Irrationally, a flash of hurt darkened his blue eyes. But it quickly vanished, making her wonder if she’d imagined it or had only seen what she wanted to see.

He gave her a small nod and turned toward the back door. It had a keycode pad installed, just like the front. As he opened the door and stepped outside, she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from asking him to stay.

He didn’t look back at her as he closed the door behind him. A full minute passed before she thought about what he’d said about calling the police.

Why hadn’t she reached for her phone the instant she’d seen him? She pulled it from her scrub pocket but only managed to stare blankly down at the screen.

Irritated, she tossed it on the counter. She didn’t want to call her brother, Doug. Maybe it was the bone-weary exhaustion from working all night combined with seeing Owen again so unexpectedly, but she couldn’t handle all of this now. She’d used all her strength and endurance during her shift.

Besides, once she made the call, Doug would arrive on her doorstep, grill her for information, and then send out a search party to find and arrest Owen.

Which in all honesty was exactly what Owen deserved.

But that could wait until later, when she was better prepared. Crossing over to the back door, she locked it, took a moment to eat her breakfast, and then crawled into bed. She should have fallen asleep instantly, but instead, she restlessly tossed and turned for what seemed like hours before she drifted off.

She awoke disoriented, confused by the light streaming in behind her curtains. It took a moment to remember she’d just worked three night shifts in a row and had come home to find Owen in her house.

Or had that been a dream?

She was hungry and still tired. But it was best to get up now, at noon, rather than sleeping the entire day away. Pushing her hair from her eyes, she staggered to the bathroom. A shower helped clear the cobwebs away, and she felt more like her usual self after she’d blow-dried her long blond hair and changed into a pair of navy capri pants and a matching T-shirt.

Stepping out of her bedroom, she looked around to make sure Owen hadn’t returned. Feeling foolish for even expecting that, she detoured into the kitchen. Food first , she thought, then she’d call Doug.

He’d be upset at the delay, but that was too bad. She pulled some leftover spaghetti from the fridge. As she stuck it in the microwave, she heard a thudding sound coming from the vicinity of her garage.

Had Owen come back after all?

Picking up a kitchen knife, she moved toward the door that connected her house to the garage. After listening for a moment and hearing nothing, she abruptly yanked the door open.

Then she screamed when a man who was not Owen charged toward her.

She thrust the knife at him, horrified when the blade sank into the man’s side. But the wound couldn’t have been serious because it didn’t stop him.

The strange man lunged forward, closing the gap between them.

“No! Help!” Her scream was cut off by the intruder’s fingers curling around her throat.

The back door of her house burst open, and she heard Owen’s voice shouting, “Let her go!”

Caught off guard, her assailant released her and turned toward Owen. Owen fired two rounds, striking the guy in the center of his chest. Her assailant dropped to the floor without saying a word.

“Call 911,” she said shakily, as she kneeled beside the fallen man.

“No. We need to get out of here.” Owen grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the assailant. She wanted to scream at him, but as a nurse, she could tell that unlike the knife still embedded in his side, the two gunshots to the intruder’s chest were fatal.

CPR wasn’t going to help him now.

Her mind reeling, she stumbled as Owen pulled her through the back door and out into the sunlight. She winced as her eyes tried to adjust to the brightness.

“Wait. Stop. We can’t leave the scene of the crime.” It had taken a moment for her mind to function logically after being attacked by a stranger in her own home and being nearly choked to death. “We need to call the police.”

“Not yet.” Owen continued tugging her through the backyard. “Not until we’re someplace safe, and we know who we can trust.”

Belatedly, she remembered how a cop had turned out to be a bad guy back in January. Was Owen right to be suspicious? Maybe.

Or maybe she was trying to convince herself as Owen basically kidnapped her for the second time in a matter of months.