Page 50 of Trapped with the Covert Ops Soldier

“But...?”

“You have the power to hurt me. You’re the one man I trust. The only one who doesn’t set my internal alarms off. That’s kind of scary.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“No?”

“No. I’m going to stick to you like glue.”

“What about after we find the guy who’s been shooting at me?”

“I have no plans to leave.” He ran a hand down her face. “In fact, I’ve discovered I really like it here.”

“Really like it?” What did that mean?

“Yeah.” He leaned forward and kissed her.

They cuddled together a bit longer, then went downstairs to finish cooking supper and put their supplies away. They ate, then went back to bed, making love again.

Smitty liked to snuggle when he slept, curling around her body, and holding her like she was precious. She tried to relax, to enjoy the feeling of having someone close, but the series of events from the second shooting kept replaying through her mind.

The wood exploding behind her head.

Yes, she agreed that the shot had been aimed at her, but it was also only a couple of feet from Smitty.

He could have died as easily as she.

Who was the ghost behind the sniper rifle?

If this person really thought she’d found the mine, she had to do something to convince them she hadn’t.

She’d been tossing dynamite into the lake for weeks and nothing happened until Smitty came along. The only thing she’d done differently had been to give him the dynamite and miss a morning.

He’d given the dynamite to the sheriff.

The sheriff. So, what hadhedone with it?

Someone saw it and what...magically knew it was from the old mine? Lots of people had old dynamite. Her dad had some.

It was the only answer, the only thing that had changed. Damn it, she’d let Smitty distract her from her self-appointed mission, resulting in it blowing up in her face.

The problem now was someone thought she’d found a way into the old mine. She’d have to show whoever was shooting at her that old dynamite didn’t equal access to gold the dead had claimed as their own.

She didn’t believe in ghosts, but the mine would never be safe for the living. Any gold that might be in it wasn’t worth dying for. Cold, dark, and damp—the mine would be a horrible place to die.

Greed made people stupid.

And trigger happy.

She could not sit back and do nothing.

Abby tried to sleep, but her brain wouldn’t shut itself off. If she wanted to end this crazy shit, she needed to find the ghost and explain the dynamite.

She wiggled out from Smitty’s embrace, found her clothes, and got dressed. The keys to Smitty’s Jeep were in his jeans pocket. She hated to strand him like this, but it was only about five miles back to the ranch from the cabin, so he’d be fine.

Better than with her on this wild ghost chase.

She started the Jeep and drove off, hoping he wouldn’t wake up until she was well into her insane plan.

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