Surviving the Wilderness, page 1
“Quinn, get down!” Jeff shouted. “We’re under fire!”
Bullets whizzed past Quinn’s head and ricocheted off the rocks, sending debris and scrub raining down around them. There was nowhere to run, let alone hide.
The shots stopped. Quinn searched through the rain for their attacker and finally saw what they were facing. A remotely controlled drone was making a slow sweeping turn. Someone had jury-rigged it into a deadly weapon by welding a semiautomatic to the bottom.
Where was the person operating it? There was nothing around here for miles. And yet, in one terrifying moment of clarity, everything made sense.
And now it was coming back their way.
“Jeff!” she shouted. “What do we do?”
Maggie K. Black is an award-winning journalist and romantic suspense author with an insatiable love of traveling the world. She has lived in the American South, Europe and the Middle East. She now makes her home in Canada with her history-teacher husband, their two beautiful girls and a small but mighty dog. Maggie enjoys connecting with her readers at maggiekblack.com.
Books by Maggie K. Black
Love Inspired Suspense
Undercover Protection
Surviving the Wilderness
Protected Identities
Christmas Witness Protection
Runaway Witness
Christmas Witness Conspiracy
True North Heroes
Undercover Holiday Fiancée
The Littlest Target
Rescuing His Secret Child
Cold Case Secrets
Visit the Author Profile page at LoveInspired.com for more titles.
Surviving the Wilderness
Maggie K. Black
Then said Martha unto Jesus, Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died. But I know, that even now, whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee.
Jesus saith unto her, Thy brother shall rise again.
—John 11:21–23
With thanks to Mike for being such a relentless, determined and unwavering advocate for our kids, and for all the ways you stepped up and saved their lives that went unnoticed.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Dear Reader
Excerpt from Amish Cradle Conspiracy by Dana R. Lynn
ONE
Water crashed down a sheer rock cliff just inches away from wilderness guide Quinn Dukes’ feet with a force that was both majestic and deadly. At quarter after six in the morning in Northern Ontario, the predawn sun was still just a tiny sliver of gold against an otherwise pitch-black horizon. The waterfall she was about to descend in the darkness was at least five stories tall. The threat of impending rain felt heavy in the air. She tugged firmly on her belay rope, double-checked it was hooked securely to her climbing harness, and braced herself to leap backward. A light flickered in the trees far below to her right. She froze.
Had something gone wrong back at the campsite of the tour she was leading, and they’d sent someone looking for her?
A cold breeze brushed her skin. Today was the third and final day of her most challenging trip yet: leading over a dozen adults down a wild and raging river with the help of decently experienced co-guide named Bruno whom she’d been forced to hire at the last minute when her original pick had been struck and injured by a hit-and-run driver. All the other tents had been silent, and her sister Rose had been only half awake when Quinn had slipped out of her sleeping bag.
Rose had been the one pushing her to take an hour to herself to pray and settle her mind before sunrise. Quinn had been surprised when Bruno had agreed to hold down the fort. Considering it would be about an hour before the sun fully rose and they weren’t set to hit the rapids until nine, most of her campers would probably still be asleep by the time she got back.
* * *
It’d been a little over a year since Quinn had launched her very own wilderness adventure company. Ever since, she’d been caught between the joy of knowing she’d actually achieved her dream and the fear that she was just one wrong step away from losing it all. At just twenty-six, with the kind of long blond hair and freckles that made her look even younger, she knew some people didn’t take her seriously and her fledgling company was still nowhere near breaking even. But a lot of her campers were incredibly active on social media and if they loved this adventure trip, the positive buzz could go a long way to keeping her dream alive.
Lord, I’m trying to trust You with my fears. Help me calm my heart.
She watched the figure move between the trees for a long moment, trying to determine if it was Rose or Bruno. But as whoever it was didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry, she decided to rappel and meet them at the bottom.
Quinn wrapped the rope around her hand, leaped backward over the edge of the waterfall and felt her body free-fall for a single exhilarating moment. Then the toes of her boots touched the slippery rock again and she dug in hard. Adrenaline and happiness coursed through her. She leaped once more. Cold water tickled the side of her face. She belayed a few more feet to a thin, natural ledge then paused and looked around.
The person with the flashlight was a clearer shape now. He was a man, judging by his height and muscular appearance. A little over six feet tall, she thought, with strong arms and broad shoulders yet still looking like he could use a good meal. Several inches taller than Bruno and definitely not her sister. While many of the campers were physically fit, his distinctive build didn’t quite match any of them. A shiver ran down her spine and through her arms into the fingers holding the rope.
Who was he? And what was he doing there?
The remote area was a spiderwebby maze of rivers hemmed in by towering rocks and thick trees. She hadn’t seen so much as a roof shingle or tire track since they’d taken off from near Thunder Bay three days ago. The man switched off his flashlight and she stared at the darkness where his form had been just seconds ago. Then she continued down the waterfall, willing her nerves not to be rattled.
Truth be told, he did remind her of someone. Just not anyone she’d ever expected or wanted to see again. Despite how often he seemed to cross her mind.
Corporal Jefferey Connor of the Canadian Military Rangers was a complicated, reasonably handsome and incredibly moody man she’d worked with on similar trips for a large adventure company a couple of years back. At the time he’d just returned from serving his country overseas to work part-time for the branch of the military that saved lives inside Canada’s borders. The tension in his jaw and sadness in his blue eyes had hinted he’d experienced something pretty bad on his last tour. Jeff had been fearless in the face of danger, incredible at leading trips and the most talented senior wilderness guide she’d ever worked under. But he’d been chronically incapable of asking anyone for help and had double-guessed every decision she’d made, treating her like a novice and pushing every single one of her buttons—including a few she hadn’t even known she’d had.
They’d only worked together for four months, on both camping trips and teaching survival skills, before he disappeared suddenly for unspecified and mysterious “family reasons”. And yet, for some unknown reason, the frustrating, infuriating man had been stuck in her mind like the fragment of some annoying song she couldn’t stop humming ever since. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d momentarily mistaken some total stranger for the one man she couldn’t forget. Something told her it wouldn’t be the last.
Quinn gritted her teeth and let her mind focus on the rush of the water beside her, the rope in her hands and the slippery rock beneath her feet.
There was a sudden yank on the rope, as if someone at the top of the falls was trying to shake her right off the side of the cliff.
“Hey!” she shouted. “Stop it! You could kill someone doing that!”
The rope shook again, this time succeeding in pulling her off the rock and sending her body swinging free. She looked up into the darkness, feeling fear and anger pound through her in equal measure as she tried to scramble for hand-and footholds.
“Who’s up there?” she shouted. “This isn’t funny! It’s dangerous. Stop it right now!”
A flashlight clicked on above her. She gasped in confusion.
The face leering down at her was grotesque and rubbery, with small, beady eyes over a large hooked nose. The head was bald with wisps of hair sticking out over huge ears. It looked more troll-like than human. Her mind faltered as she tried to figure out what she was even seeing.
Then the rope gave way.
She fell in a helplessly tumbling free fall toward the water below.
* * *
Jeff ran through the forest so quickly he could barely feel his boots touch the ground. As a Canadian Ranger, rescuing those in danger and teaching people how to survive in the wilderness was what he was trained for. And as a man who’d witnessed far too many people die when he’d served his country overseas, the need to make sure the woman he’d just seen fall was okay pounded like a drum through his core.
The waterfall—a daring, gutsy, dangerous climb—lay on just one of many winding branches springing from the large and fast river that cut through towering, sheer-granite rock near his cabin. The water in the spring-fed pool at the base was shockingly cold and would be enough to knock the breath from even the strongest swimmer’s lungs.
He’d tackled the waterfall himself a couple of times since he and his little girl had moved to the rustic and remote former hunter’s cabin. When Jeff suddenly learned he had a child, he’d had to get the toddler as far away as possible from the angry man who’d been cruelly led to believe he was her real father before the death of her mother, Della, had led to the truth coming out.
Jeff and Della had a very brief and unhappy relationship while serving together overseas. He’d had no idea Della was pregnant with his daughter Addison when she’d abruptly ended it. Paul had then started dating Della, and they’d been engaged to marry when she’d died.
Addison had been living with her grandmother while both Paul and Della served in separate units overseas, but still Jeff couldn’t imagine the pain Paul had felt when he’d been told not only was his fiancée dead, but a DNA test had proved Addison was another man’s child.
Since then Paul had started posting things online in the dark edges of the web questioning just how Jeff had managed to survive the makeshift drone attack that had killed her and thirteen other soldiers serving in Jeff and Della’s military unit.
When his older brother Vic, who was staying with him and Addison for a while, had told Jeff that a dozen campers had pulled their canoes ashore in a narrow cove that sliced a jagged gap in the rock face, and hiked up into the woods to set up tents, Jeff had been more shocked than irritated. His nearest town was over an hour’s drive away. The cabin was so deep into the wilderness, it was completely off the grid, leaving them to rely on a well for water, generators for electricity and wood-burning stoves for heat.
But now, as his eyes trained on the deep pool at the base of the falls, watching the water beat relentlessly against branches and logs, pushing them down into its depths, he knew there was something far worse than seeing some a stranger saunter onto his land—knowing he’d let her die there. Jeff’s first-aid training was pretty extensive, and Vic had served as a military medic before coming home to be with his late wife as she’d died of cancer. The climber just needed to survive until he could reach her. He pushed himself faster, until his chest ached like it was on fire and his throat felt scorched with smoke.
“God, I’ve seen way too many people die. I can’t bear to lose anyone else. Help me to save her before it’s too late.”
The prayer slipped through Jeff’s lips in a hoarse rasp before he’d even realized it. No, he didn’t pray anymore. Let alone ask God—or anyone else—for help. Not since the roadside drone attack two years ago that had taken out so many of his unit. He should’ve been there, driving the convoy to the remote outpost from base. If he had been, maybe he’d have seen the drone and warned those behind him. Or taken it down himself and saved their lives.
Instead he’d been sitting in the brig for telling off a superior officer he’d thought was mistreating the newer recruits. The closest he’d come to crying out to God had been months later, standing in the back of the church during Della’s memorial service, after her mother had told him the little girl with luminous blue eyes and long blond curls who she’d been raising was secretly his. And that urge to pray for God’s help had been swallowed up in anger.
He broke through the trees and saw the climber. She was lying limp on her back in the water. Long blond hair streamed over her face and floated in the water around her shoulders. He couldn’t tell if she was breathing.
“Hang on!” he shouted. “I’m coming to get you.”
He yanked off his jacket and tossed it on the rocks, but didn’t pause long enough to unlace his boots. Jeff dove in, surfaced and gasped a breath as the unexpected cold hit his system. Water soaked his clothes, threatening to drag him down. The roar of the falls was deafening. He ignored both, focused only on her.
In two strokes, he was by her side. He slid his right arm beneath her shoulders, pulled her to him and carefully swam her to shore. She gasped a breath and sudden hope filled his heart. He climbed the slippery rocks and pulled her up alongside him. The belay rope was still attached to her harness and he dragged it onto the shore. Then he sat there, on the ground, his legs folded beneath him and the woman in his arms. Her chest rose and fell as her breaths stuttered. His hands gently brushed the side of her neck and he felt her fluttering weak pulse beneath his fingertips. So far, so good. Then, for the first time, he really looked into the eyes of the woman he’d rescued. His heart stopped.
“Quinn?” he asked. “Quinn Dukes?”
Was it really her? The most beautiful, gutsy and infuriating woman he’d ever met was lying limp in his arms and barely breathing.
She jolted and sat up so quickly their foreheads collided. He winced as pain shot through his skull.
“Jeff?” Her eyes snapped open. Confusion filled their dark brown depths. “Is it really you?”
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “How did you find me?”
“Find you?” she asked. “I wasn’t looking for you.” She glanced to his arms encircling her body then back to his face just inches from hers. Her eyes widened. “Why...why are you hugging me?”
Hugging? Jeff was so flabbergasted, he’d have leaped up if that hadn’t meant dropping her.
“You fell into the water and I pulled you out!” he practically spluttered. “Don’t you remember?”
“No, not really,” she said slowly. “I remember seeing you in the woods, someone yanking the rope, and looking up to see what looked like a troll.” She struggled to straighten in his arms. A weak smile crossed her lips. “Although I do remember that Jeff Connor avoids touching people unless their life is actually on the line.”
What did that mean? When they’d worked together, Quinn had been an endless beacon of cheeriness who’d never hesitated to throw an arm around a camper in need and dolled out high fives and fist bumps in every direction. But she was the weird one, not him. She’d also been incessantly positive and never stopped asking questions.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“I feel like a did a swan dive into a concrete floor,” Quinn said. “But I don’t think anything’s broken or sprained.”
“And you think you saw a troll face?”
Her eyes darted to the top of the waterfall. He followed her gaze, but there was nothing there.
Fear prickled at the back of his neck. Had Paul finally found his home? Was he coming for Addison?
Quinn closed her eyes for a long moment and he watched her lips move in what looked like a silent prayer.
A siren rose and fell faintly in the distance.
Quinn’s eyes widened. “What’s that?” she asked.
“My security alarm,” Jeff said. One he’d installed in every cabin window in case Paul ever made good on his threats. “Someone’s trying to break into my cabin.”
TWO
The alarm stopped just as abruptly as it had started, which, he was positive, meant his brother was there and had entered the code. But Jeff still felt the color drain from his face.
When he’d installed a security system in a cabin so remote it didn’t even have a phone line, his brother had told him bluntly but gently that he’d thought Paul was just a harmless man in pain who was lashing out in grief. He reminded him that, despite his angry rhetoric, Paul hadn’t even gone to Della’s memorial service or tried to fight it through the courts when Addison’s grandmother gave Jeff custody. Vic had added the fact that Jeff was always on edge. That his flinching at every car backfire, siren wail and whiff of acrid smoke had more to do with Jeff’s own powerfully painful memories of standing under the hot sun in a distant country, staring at the charred remains of an attack that should’ve taken his life.
