Hold On To Me (Hawkeye Book 4) Read online

  He nudged Elissa down a different aisle, then hurried her back outside.

  In record time, he topped off the gas tank before accelerating down the on-ramp, sliding into traffic at the exact posted speed limit.

  As they climbed into the mountains, leaving the metro area behind them, he looked in the rearview mirror, then loosened his grip on the steering wheel. Until that moment she hadn’t realized how tense he was.

  His phone rang, and Hawkeye’s name appeared on the screen that had been showing a map.

  Without saying anything, Commander Walker pushed the button to answer the call.

  “Phase one of Operation Wildflower is underway, I presume?” Hawkeye’s calm, almost cheerful voice filled the cabin.

  “Operation Wildflower?” she repeated.

  “I’ll explain it to you later.” Jacob slid her a glance before refocusing on the road and his conversation with Hawkeye. “Affirmative. Extraction complete. You already know that.”

  “Fagan had a couple of things to say about our client and your, ahem, lack of diplomacy.”

  “Stop with that word. I think you mean manhandling.” Irritated, she scowled. How dare they talk about her as if she weren’t there. “Actually the more appropriate term would be kidnapping.”

  “Hello, Elissa.”

  At one time, Hawkeye’s voice had been as familiar as her own, until she realized he’d never allowed her to glimpse beyond a carefully constructed facade that hid his emotional pain and broken pieces.

  “Commander Walker is one of the finest individuals I’ve ever known.”

  If she wasn’t so annoyed, the words of praise might have meant something to her. “Is that supposed to make this all better?”

  “Besides myself, he’s the only one I trust with your life.”

  At the jagged note of emotion in his voice, her shoulders rolled forward. Whether she believed she was at risk or not, he did. “I hate this cloak-and-dagger stuff.”

  “And I hate that you’re mixed up in it. I’ll never forgive myself.”

  Even though she wanted to be mad, she couldn’t be. But that didn’t give him—or anyone else—permission to upend her entire world. “You know what’s going on in my life, right? Let’s be reasonable.”

  “Yesterday you refused.”

  “I’ve changed my mind.” She blew out a wisp of breath. “Kayla is welcome to stay with me. I have an extra bedroom. And that way I can go back to work—”

  “No.” The two men spoke in unison, making her rub her temple to ward off the growing headache.

  She should have already been in bed.

  “Everything is covered at the pub.”

  Exhaustion evaporated. “What?”

  “I talked to your parents and apprised them of the situation. They’re being provided with hourly updates.”

  “How dare you?” Fury, white and blinding, flashed through her. She leaned forward, and the seatbelt grabbed her, preventing further movement. “What the hell is wrong with you? My dad can’t handle that kind of stress.”

  “Patrick is stronger than you think. His only concern is your safety, and he immediately set about providing a solution to the problem. Your manager, Mary, says she’s feeling better, and she intends to return to work tomorrow.”

  She exhaled her relief.

  “Your dad was also able to get hold of Joseph. He’s agreed to take the day shifts.”

  That news shaved the edges off Elissa’s biggest concerns. Joseph had spent a number of years working for them and occasionally still picked up a few shifts. He knew Conroy Pub almost as well as she did, and he had earned her trust. Still, she hated that Hawkeye had upended so many people’s lives.

  As if he’d read her mind, Hawkeye spoke again, this time, more softly. “I know you’re not happy. None of this would have been necessary if you’d have cooperated when I asked you to.”

  The same argument. Again. She sank back into the seat.

  “There’s a package waiting for you at the ranch. Some shoes and clothes, along with a secure cell phone—you’ll be able to call your parents as soon as you arrive. You’ll also be provided with a Bonds computer.”

  “Seriously?” Even though she wouldn’t admit it, she was impressed. Because of her demanding graphic arts business, she’d lusted after one for years, but she’d never had that kind of money. Regardless, that wasn’t the point. Right now, she needed her own equipment. “My software and files are on my desktop.”

  “You’ll find everything already loaded on the new system. Bonds himself handled it.”

  She blinked. “What? Are you kidding me? You actually know Julien Bonds?” The genius of all things electronic. “And why would he do something like that?”

  “We go back. And he loves getting involved in other people’s lives. World-class meddler.”

  Even after all these years, Hawkeye still surprised her.

  “Everything that was on your machine has been loaded on to your new computer.”

  “Wait.” God, no. Her pulse stuttered, and when she managed to speak again, her words were a croaked whisper. “All of it?”

  “All of it.” Hawkeye cleared his throat. “Bonds said there was some kinky shit on there.”

  Unable to breathe, she stared straight ahead into the abyss of an endless highway.

  “Kinky shit?”

  She sensed that Jacob glanced at her, but she didn’t look in his direction. Instead, she wished the vehicle’s undercarriage would open up so she could sink through it. No one had a right to look at her personal gallery, let alone comment on the contents.

  “Elissa?” Jacob asked.

  Desperately she searched for an explanation. “Those pictures… It was… Uhm… A project. For a client. Sworn to secrecy.” The lie was the best she could come up with. No way was she confessing—to either one of these men—that the images were created from her own line drawings and inspired by her own vivid imagination.

  “Bonds said he was impressed, that you have real talent.” Surprise was etched in Hawkeye’s tone. Despite the time they’d spent together, there was a lot he didn’t know about her. “He suggested you consider showing it.”

  Not even if hell freezes over and starts selling the ice. She would never reveal her most intimate self to the world.

  “You’re welcome to get in contact with him. He has some recommendations.”

  “Thanks, but no.” Even if she didn’t have her own hesitations, she doubted there was a gallery on the planet interested in hanging her kind of paintings. “Let’s get back to the previous conversation, please.”

  “I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”

  Of course the asshole of all assholes had continued talking as if she hadn’t said anything.

  “I assure you that every resource is committed to this situation. Follow Commander Walker’s orders, and we’ll have you home before you know it.”

  The connection ended.

  “I hate him.”

  In the darkness, her abductor looked at her.

  “I hate this.”

  “In your place, so would I. It takes a special person to be comfortable with this type of uncertainty.”

  Jacob’s comments, uttered without even a ripple of emotion, intrigued her. “And you are?”

  He was silent for so long that she wasn’t sure he’d answer. “It comes from practice.”

  “Do you always speak so damn cryptically?” Like Hawkeye. Hadn’t she learned a lesson about trying to communicate with military men?

  “It’s been safer that way.”

  “Well, after this is over, you’ll never have to see me again, right? And it’s not like I’d tell anyone anything that you said.”

  “The army teaches you a lot. At the time, I saw it as the only way out of a small town, the responsibilities of ranch life. I wanted adventure. You know, jumping out of helicopters, knocking down doors in a hail of gunfire.”

  She angled herself toward him. “You did all that?”

  “Ye
ah.” He shrugged “And more.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “Not as much as I imagined I would. The adrenaline? That’s fucking addictive. But I learned a lot that I never expected. Discipline. Patience—endless days, even weeks of waiting. Survival skills. Sleeping when I could, wherever I could. Eating even when I wasn’t hungry, existing on soup for days when it was the only thing available.” He adjusted one of the air-conditioning vents. “I learned how to make a plan and how to execute a new one when the first failed.”

  “Like throwing me over your shoulder?”

  “I asked nicely.”

  “That’s not how I remember it.”

  “Hmm.”

  They settled into silence, and she turned over the events that had unfurled since Hawkeye had called the day before. If only she had made different decisions when he said she needed protection. But at the time, she hadn’t believed the threat was real. Even now, she wasn’t sure it was.

  Some time later, the cowboy exited the interstate. “Don’t you think it’s time you tell me where we’re going? You have my phone, so it’s not like I can contact anyone.”

  “The Starlight Mountain Ranch.”

  “It’s yours?”

  “Yeah.” He paused for so long she wasn’t sure he’d go on. “Fourth generation.”

  More intrigued than ever, she turned as much as she could to face him. Too bad there wasn’t a little more ambient light so she could read his expressions. “And you live there with family?”

  “It’s just me. I’m the last one.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Her family meant everything to her. Her dad’s recent health battle had only brought them closer together. She didn’t like to imagine a future without them in it.

  “I’ve had some time to get used to it.”

  “Is it a big place?”

  “Depends on how you define that. Been added to throughout the years. The entire holding is around eight thousand acres.”

  “And are you ever going to tell me where it is?”

  “Not far from Steamboat Springs. About twenty-five minutes south. On Trout Creek, a tributary of the Yampa River.”

  It was a beautiful area of the state, one she’d visited a few times. “We spent a couple of Christmases at one of the resorts near there.”

  “Good memories?”

  They were…a reminder of a time when life was simpler, when they’d been together as a family, away from the responsibilities of running a business, and they’d played cards and board games, worked a few jigsaw puzzles, then spent evenings sipping hot chocolate in front of a crackling fire. “That’s where I learned to ski and ice skate.”

  “You might enjoy yourself at the ranch.”

  “Vacations generally don’t include having a jailer.”

  He glanced toward her. “Think of me as a protective friend.”

  The way she’d already responded to him made that idea laughable. “I don’t even know who you are. I mean, beyond Commander Walker. Are you like Hawkeye, no first name, no last name?”

  “It’s Jacob.”

  “That’s nice.” Strong. It suited him. “Is it a family name?”

  “No. It was one of my mother’s few contributions to childrearing before she disappeared from my life. Haven’t had any contact with her since…” He paused, as if deliberating how much to reveal. When he continued, his tone was flat. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Oh God.” The more she knew about him, the more he wound his way into her emotions. To keep herself safe, she couldn’t let that happen. “That had to have hurt.”

  “My grandparents made sure I didn’t miss her much.”

  Was that true, though? “Is she still alive?”

  “Yeah.” He set his jaw and turned on the radio, telling her the conversation was over.

  Over the next hour and a half, she dozed, only to be jolted awake when he drove over a cattle guard.

  “Sorry about that, Sleeping Beauty.”

  She blinked and forced herself to sit up a little straighter. “I wish I could see the surroundings.”

  “I’ll give you a tour tomorrow. Or, rather, later today.”

  Jacob stopped in front of a massive iron gate. The truck’s headlights allowed her to make out an ornate W in the middle.

  He pressed a button on the dashboard, and the entrance swung open.

  They continued along a dirt road for several minutes before the house came into view, fully lit. The home, constructed from beautiful pine logs, was massive, with several different wings. Numerous cozy-looking chimneys climbed toward the sky. “This is stunning.”

  “It’s big. Too big for one person. My great-grandparents had a large family. And they took care of the ranch hands. It was a gathering place.”

  He pulled to a stop, and she gratefully climbed down from the passenger side. In the distance, the sun was casting its first rays, painting a few clouds pink.

  Jacob grabbed his duffel bag before pressing a button on the remote to lock the vehicle. “After you.”

  She climbed the five steps to the porch. A swing, covered in pillows, hung near the door. Two Adirondack chairs were angled so they faced the distant mountain peak.

  It appeared to be a perfect spot to sit and read.

  Which she’d probably have plenty of time to do. Her stomach twisted into a sudden knot of resigned annoyance.

  A loud hiss ripped through the still morning air. She glanced back at Jacob. “Uhm, do you have mountain lions or something out here?”

  “Or something.”

  Suddenly, a massive animal leaped up the steps in a single movement, landing next to her. Screaming, she jumped sideways.

  The creature crouched down, still hissing, staring at her. Contemplating if she was going to be breakfast? “Is that a lynx or something?”

  “No. It’s a Waffle.”

  “What is it, exactly?”

  “A cat. Maine Coon, we think. She showed up one day as a kitten and refused to leave. We had no idea she’d get so big or be so loud. The vet says that breed vocalize more than others. Lucky us.”

  “Interesting name.”

  “Well, my housekeeper’s little girl dreamed it up because of the cat’s various markings. She looks like a waffle with syrup on it. And whipped cream on the nose.”

  “I can see it.” For the first time in hours, her tension eased, and she smiled.

  He shrugged. “Better than Pancake, I suppose.”

  “You said you have a chef?”

  “I like to eat, and I don’t always have time to cook.”

  Waffle hissed again.

  “She’s harmless.”

  Elissa crouched, and the fur on the back of Waffle’s neck stood on end—then she arched her back and moved back several feet. “Harmless? Are you sure about that?”

  “You could say she has an interesting personality.”

  The moment Jacob stepped on the porch, the feline dashed toward him, then wound herself between his legs, rubbing and purring. “At least she’s got good taste in humans.”

  Elissa rolled her eyes as she stood. “That’s up for debate.”

  “She’s not fond of Hawkeye.”

  “In that case, I like her more and more.”

  With a grin, Jacob reached across her to enter a code on the keypad and opened the door. “Seven, six, three, nine, five, two.”

  “What?”

  “The security code.”

  “You mean I’m allowed to leave?”

  “Of course. Despite what you said, I’m not your jailer, Elissa.”

  She frowned at him. “So I can go to Steamboat for a cappuccino? Maybe do a little shopping?”

  “If I’m with you.”

  Remembering the ridiculous maneuvers he’d gone through to protect her identity at the fuel stop, skepticism raced through her. “And you’ll take me?”

  “Sure.” He shrugged. “Later in the week, if things remain calm.”

  “That’s a carrot, right
?”

  “Meaning?”

  “You know, management techniques. Carrot and the stick. Positive versus negative reinforcement. If you promise me a reward, maybe I’ll behave better.”

  “Yeah. That’s it. You figured me out.” He studied her in silence.

  Annoyingly, her feminine instincts stirred again. She blamed her exhaustion as well as the night’s extraordinary events.

  After some sleep, she’d be herself again, back in control. There was no way her abductor could be this tempting.

  “Go ahead inside.”

  She took a couple of steps only to have Waffle dart past her. The animal jumped onto a nearby table, looked back at Elissa, and hissed again.

  “Mind your manners,” Jacob told the cat before closing the door and dumping his bag on the floor. He stroked a finger between the cat’s ears, and she turned her head into his hand. “Ms. Conroy will be with us for the foreseeable future.”

  The cat hissed, not seeming any happier with the news than Elissa was.

  “I’ll show you around.”

  At lightning speed, Waffle dashed away.

  Elissa followed him to the inviting yet cozy living room with furniture arranged in a U shape. A large couch faced the flagstone patio and wide-open meadow. Another was placed in front of the oversize fireplace and television. She imagined sitting here and relaxing, maybe with a glass of wine.

  Beyond it was a sliding glass door leading to the patio.

  “The kitchen is through here.”

  Maybe because he was a bachelor and the home had been standing for so long, she expected it to be dated. Instead, it was modern, with restaurant-quality appliances and gorgeous marble countertops. “I could spend days in here. It’s a chef’s delight.”

  “Glad you approve. You’re exactly right. Eric designed it himself.”

  “That’s your chef, I assume?”

  “It is. He comes in a couple of times a week.” Jacob filled a bowl with cat food and placed it on the floor. From nowhere, Waffle appeared and delicately picked out a single piece of kibble. “He hopes I’ll start entertaining one of these days. Maybe open the house to guests.”

  “Like a bed-and-breakfast type of thing?”

  “I’d be the perfect host. Easygoing. Attentive as well as accommodating.”