Page 49 of Shielded Hearts

For what felt like hours, Colt edged carefully along the cliff. He followed the foot tracks leading in an arc. He knew how to hunt men down, and he was more determined than he ever was fighting for Uncle Sam to find the man who had taken Aspen.

When he spotted the narrow road leading off the mountain, his heart clutched hard like a fist was clamped around it.

Aspen. Oh god, Aspen.

Who had her?

The road was intact and passable, sheltered from the path of the avalanche. The boot prints led to a set of tire tracks. Thick winter treads cut down the mountainside, away from the destroyed cabin.

Someone had driven up here. And what? Witnessed the destruction, pulled Aspen out of the snow?

His mind whirled. With only one set of footprints, Colt could only think that she was unconscious. The man who’d pulled her out had carried her here and put her into his vehicle.

For all Colt knew, he’d taken Aspen to the hospital.

But the bigger question in Colt’s mind had his senses on the sharpest sniper alert—how did the guy find Aspen, unless he watched the avalanche swallow her?

Or caused the avalanche.

That sharp metallic thudding noise echoed in Colt’s memory.

He slapped at his back pocket. As his fingers brushed the outline of his phone, relief made his nerves feel like overstretched rubber bands. “Thank Christ!”

He yanked out the device and called his brother Carson.

As soon as the line connected, a deep chuckle filled his ear. “Colt. Man, did you finally come up for air after running off with the travel agent?”

“Concierge,” he ground out without thinking, and then shook his head.

“What?” Carson asked.

“This isn’t that kind of call. I may need backup.”

“That means you do need backup. Where the hell are you?”

His truck was gone. The only way off the mountain was to start walking down the road. His chest tightened as he realized the odds he was up against.

But he was no quitter. None of the Malones were.

He spouted off the address of the cabin.

“Okay, the Underwood place. What happened?” Carson’s tone sounded with a sharp edge.

“Avalanche.”

“Jesus Christ! Are you all right?”

“Yes. But Aspen… Carson, she’s gone.” His throat closed on the words he never thought would hurt so much to say.

“Fuck! Colt, is she…?”

The question hung in the dead air.

“Someone dug her out. She can’t be conscious. If she were, I would have heard her screaming.” He walked faster, aware now of the bruises and muscle strains in his body even as he failed to give a damn about anything but the woman he had to find.

“I’ll send Gray to get you.”

Their younger brother must still be on military leave after the wedding.

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