The Guardian (The Ranger Brigade, 1, Band 1572) - Softcover

Buch 1 von 4: The Ranger Brigade

Myers, Cindi

 
9780373698394: The Guardian (The Ranger Brigade, 1, Band 1572)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0373698399 ISBN 13: 9780373698394
Verlag: Harlequin Intrigue, 2015

Inhaltsangabe

Memories of rescuing her fueled his dreams. Seeing her again fueled his desire.  

Far from the mountains of Afghanistan, Abby Stewart found solace in the wild country of western Colorado. But after finishing one war, she was caught in another. In securing the crime scene, Lieutenant Michael Dance was more surprised to see Abby than the dead body. How could he forget her face after caring for her wounds and saving her life? And yet she didn't remember him at all. That wouldn't stop him from embarking on a high stakes investigation leading to much worse than murder. And if it helped jog Abby's memory and soften her toward him, he wouldn't leave her side until she was safe once more…

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Cindi Myers became one of the most popular people in eighth grade when she and her best friend wrote a torrid historical romance and passed the manuscript around among friends. Fame was short-lived, alas; the English teacher confiscated the manuscript. Since then, Cindi has written more than 50 published novels. Her historical and contemporary romances and women’s fiction have garnered praise from reviewers and readers alike. 

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Abby Stewart was not lost. Maybe she'd wandered a little off her planned route, but she wasn't lost.

She was a scientist and a decorated war veteran. She had GPS and maps and a good sense of direction. So she couldn't be lost. But standing in the middle of nowhere in the Colorado wilderness did have her a little disoriented, she could admit. The problem was, the terrain around Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park tended to all look the same after a while: thousands of acres of rugged, roadless wilderness covered in pinon forests, and scrubby desert set against a backdrop of spectacular mountain views. People did get lost out here every year.

But Abby wasn't one of them, she reminded herself again. She took a deep breath and consulted her handheld GPS. There was the shallow draw she'd just passed, and to the west were the foothills of the Cimarron Mountains. And there was her location now. The display showed she'd hiked three miles from her car. All she had to do was head northeast and she'd eventually make it back to her parking spot and the red dirt two-track she'd driven in on. Feeling more reassured, she returned the GPS unit to her backpack and scanned the landscape around her. To a casual observer, the place probably looked pretty desolate—a high plateau of scrubby grass, cactus and stunted juniper. But to Abby, who was on her way to earning a master's degree in environmental science, the Black Canyon of the Gunnison was a treasure trove of more than eight hundred plant species, including the handful she was focusing on in her research.

Her anxiety over temporarily losing her bearings vanished as she focused on a gray-green clump of vegetation in the shadow of a misshapen pinon. She bent over, peering closer, and a surge of triumph filled her. Yes! A terrific specimen of Lomatium concinnum— desert parsley to the layman. Number four on the list of species she needed to collect for her research. She knelt and slipped off her pack and quickly took out a digital camera, small trowel and collecting bag.

Intent on photographing the parsley in place, then carefully digging it up, leaving as much of the root system intact as possible, she missed the sounds of approaching footsteps until they were almost on her. A branch crackled and she started, heart pounding. She peered into the dense underbrush in front of her, in the direction of the sound, and heard a shuffling noise—the muffled swish of fabric rubbing against the brush. Whoever this was wasn't trying to be particularly quiet, but what were they doing out here, literally in the middle of nowhere?

In the week Abby had been camped in the area she'd seen fewer than a dozen other people since checking in at the park ranger station, and all of those had been in the campground or along the paved road. Here in the backcountry she'd imagined herself completely alone.

Stealthily, she slid the Sig Sauer from the holster at her side. She'd told the few friends who'd asked about the gun that she carried it to deal with snakes and other wildlife she might encounter in the backcountry, but the truth was, ever since her stint in Afghanistan, she felt safer armed when she went out alone. Flashes of unsettling memories crowded her mind as she drew the weapon; suddenly, she was back in Kandahar, stalking insurgents who'd just wiped out half her patrol group. As a woman, she'd often been tasked with going into the homes of locals to question the women there with the aid of an interpreter. Every time she stepped into one of those homes, she wondered if she'd come out alive. This scene had the same sense of being cut off from the rest of the world, the same sense of paranoia and danger.

Heart racing, she struggled to control her breathing and to push the memories away. She wasn't in Afghanistan. She was in Colorado. In a national park. She was safe. This was probably just another hiker, someone else who appreciated the solitude and peace of the wilderness. She inched forward and pushed aside the feathery, aromatic branches of a pinon.

A small, dark woman bent over the ground, deftly pulling up plants and stuffing them into the pockets of her full skirt. Dandelions, Abby noted. A popular edible wild green. She replaced the gun in its holster and stood. "Hello," she said.

The woman jumped and dropped a handful of dandelions. She turned, as if to run. "Wait!" Abby called. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you." She retrieved the plants and held them out to the woman. She was young, barely out of her teens, and very beautiful. Her skin was the rich brown of toffee, and she had high cheekbones, a rosebud mouth and large black eyes framed by lacy lashes. She wore a loose blue blouse, a long, full skirt and leather sandals, with a plaid shawl draped across her body.

She came forward and hesitantly accepted the dandelions from Abby. "Gracias," she said, her voice just above a whisper.

Latina, Abby thought. A large community of Mexican immigrants lived in the area. She searched her mind for what schoolgirl Spanish she could recall. "Habla inglés?"

The woman shook her head and wrapped her arms around what Abby had first assumed to be a bag for storing the plants she collected, but she now realized was a swaddled infant, cradled close to the woman's torso with a sling made from the red, blue and green shawl. "You have a baby!" Abby smiled. "A niño" she added.

The woman held the baby closer and stared at Abby, eyes wide with fear.

Maybe she was an illegal, afraid Abby would report her to the authorities. "Don't worry," Abby said, unable to remember the Spanish words. "I'm looking for plants, like you." She broke a stem from the desert parsley and held it out. "Donde esta este? " she asked. Where is this?

The woman eyed Abby warily, but stepped forward to study the plant. She nodded. "Si. Yo conozco."

"You know this plant? Can you show me where to find more? Donde esta?"

The woman looked around, then motioned Abby to follow her. Abby did so, excitement growing. So far, specimens of Lomatium had been rare. Having more plants to study would be a tremendous find.

The woman moved rapidly over the rough ground despite her long skirts and the burden of the baby. Her black hair swung behind her in a ponytail that reached almost to her waist. Where did she live? The closest homes were miles from here, and the only road into this section of the park was the one Abby had come in on. Was she collecting the dandelions because she had an interest in wild food—or because it was the only thing she had to eat?

The woman stopped abruptly beside a large rock and looked down at the ground. Desert parsley spread out for several feet in every direction—the most specimens Abby had ever seen. Her smile widened. "That's wonderful. Thank you so much. Muchas gracias?" She clasped the woman's hand and shook it. The woman offered a shy smile.

"Mi nombre es Abby."

"Soy Mariposa," the woman said.

Mariposa. Butterfly. Her name was butterfly? "Y su niño?" Abby nodded to the baby.

Mariposa smiled and folded back the blanket to reveal a tiny dark-haired infant. "Es una niña," she said. "Angelique."

"Angelique," Abby repeated. A little angel.

"Usted ha cido harido." Mariposa lightly touched the side of Abby's face.

Abby flinched. Not because the touch was painful, but because she didn't like being reminded of the scar there. Multiple surgeries and time had...

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Verlag
Harlequin Intrigue
Erscheinungsdatum
2015
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0373698399
ISBN 13 
9780373698394
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
224
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