Page 33 of Mountain Men Heroes

Ethan!

Trees meant cover. In a flat run through the sea of grass, she dashed across the forty yards of a death trap. Heavy pants rocked her chest, but she narrowed her eyes and scanned the space between the trees. Where was he? She had to find him.

Deep guttural roars of anger snaked through the trees from the right and sent a flock of sharp-tailed grouse scattering for safety behind her.

“Oh God. Ethan.”

Three

Instinct pulled her hand to her holster.

She blew out a trembling breath and took another to steady her nerves. Trouble waited for her every inch she advanced, but she hoped to deliver a little of it herself if someone hurt Ethan. She steadied her aim and worked around several massive pines. Roots twined together along the forest floor to create large gnarled traps.

The lack of rain in the area made the foliage underfoot crackle and crunch with each step as she made her way closer to where she pinpointed the gunshot.

Scurrying little steps broke the silence as a startled squirrel dashed across her path, sensing danger too. Another few feet and the thickly wooded area gradually thinned until it opened into another section of the same large field that hugged the lake.

It was too quiet.

Nothing moved, chirped or twitched. Not even the squirrel could be seen close by.

Rustling came from her right, and a familiar flash of gray from Ethan’s shirt caught her eye near the base of a large tree.

She stared for only a second before moving to holster her weapon. “Ethan, thank God.” Spatters of blood spotted the pine needles. So focused on getting to Ethan she failed to realize they were not alone.

A flash of white from the corner of her eye caught her by surprise. But it was too late. A sharp blow directly beneath her shoulder blades forced the last of the air from her lungs.

Massive arms wrapped around her like steel bands and the weight of Mt. Everest collided with her smaller frame. Unable to move, screams stuck in her throat and choked out the little bit of air she managed to drag in.

No matter what she did, the impact was inevitable. The ground rushed up to meet her head-on. Caged in, there was no use fighting it. She could not move an arm or a hand to stop the brutal blow from coming.

Pain splintered across her cheek and stars swam in her vision. Oil and copper filled her nostrils as she tried to refill her lungs with a vital amount of air.

Gritting her teeth, fear and a blood-boiling amount of rage drove her head back. She smiled when the satisfying crunch followed by a grunt hit her ears. The vice-like hold her assailant had on her released. She kicked up, not wasting a single precious second—another tidbit her overprotective brothers had taught her in the back yard after school over a case of cola and some sparring mats.

Reached for her gun, but only found an empty holster.

Fuck!

The fear freezing the blood in her veins dethawed and a whole boatload of pissed off woman charged in like Hell’s fury. Beefy fingers locked around her ankle, and she went down again. This time, she caught herself. Through narrowed eyes, she took stock of her surroundings. Miracles of miracles her glasses only slipped a little, but that didn’t fix her current situation. There was nothing within reach she could use to fight with since her gun tumbled out of her hand in the tumble.

Fists and feet then.

“Let’s do this,” she bit out and rolled to her back, letting him think she had no defenses. With one hard tug, he had her within his grasp. But not for long. Thank God for slippery waders and girls that knew how to use them.

With her free foot, Remy hauled back and drove the solid heel home. Mmm. “That’s gotta hurt.” He’d be wearing a size six boot print on his face for eons.

“Try to get a date wearing that, jackass.”

His hold slipped.

She heard someone barreling toward them. Ethan or jackass’s friend she didn’t know, but she did know Ethan was hurt. She’s seen the blood on the forest floor.

Fingers flying over the dry pine needles and dirt, she fumbled for her gun but didn’t dare take her eyes off the naked blond brute. She cocked her leg back again ready to deliver another blow. Through the blood smeared down the side of his face from the broken nose she’d delivered, he never saw it coming.

Crack. “Don’t fuck with a So-Cal girl, fucker.” If she’d broken his nose before he had no chance of it ever healing now.

He let her go completely now and reared back with a fierce, ugly roar that vibrated the air surrounding them. The second his gaze found her murder slithered over his expression.

---