Never Let Go (Brothers From Money Book 9) Read online

  “That would be wonderful,” Brooke said, taking a box out of the back of the truck, thinking that Marissa hadn’t been kidding about people taking care of one another up here.

  Thinking about her new friends, who after only a few days already felt like family, she began to calm down. It was just a storm after all, but just as she was beginning to drift off to sleep in front of the fire, she heard what sounded like gun shots. First one, then several more followed by a silence, then one last shot. Jumping to her feet, she ran to the door and made sure it was securely bolted, then she looked out each window, only seeing the wind and rain lashing the trees.

  Shivering, she stood at the front window for a long time watching the storm again when an especially bright flash of lightning lit up the woods and she was sure she saw a figure leaning against one of the trees, but the light was gone so fast she couldn’t be sure. Watching the spot, waiting for the next flash, she was relieved to see nothing when the forest was lit up again. Assuming it had just been a figment of her imagination, she turned back to the fire but then a loud crash made her jump.

  Crossing back to the window, she pulled the curtain aside and looked out, seeing nothing but the dark night. When a log shifted in the fire, she actually cried out, then laughed at herself. She was going to have to get a lot tougher if she was going to make it up here. Squaring her shoulders, she marched back to her chair by the fire and picked up the book she’d been reading, determined to ignore the storm.

  She sat and read for a few minutes finally distracted by plans for the garden she would plant in the spring. But her concentration was broken by a loud thump on the front porch. Immediately on her feet, the book hit the floor with a loud thud. Another loud thud directly in front of her door had her flying to the fireplace to grab the poker. Yielding it like a weapon, she crept up to the window and looked out.

  There was no one in her yard, her truck the only vehicle in sight, but then there was another thump, this one much quieter than the first. Knowing she had no choice, she slid the bolt on the door and opened it a crack, still seeing nothing in the yard or on the porch. Just as she was about to close the door, she heard a groan out in the yard and waited for a flash of lightening, which when it came had her bolting out of the house and into the yard.

  For a split second, she’d thought that someone had left their muddy clothes in her yard, but then she realized that it was a man. Crouching next to him, she rolled him onto his back only to discover a nasty wound on his shoulder. The rain was pelting his face, but he seemed not to notice as the water just rolled off his face in rivers. Soaked to the skin and already freezing, she realized that he must be equally cold.

  Seeing no other choice, she grabbed him under the arms and began dragging him into the house, praying the whole time that he was a good guy and not a bad one. The man was very large, at least six foot six, and muscular, so it was no easy task dragging him up the porch stairs and into the house. Once they were out of the storm, she stopped to rest, panting with the effort of moving the man.

  She had no choice but to leave him lying in the entry way while she quickly spread a blanket on the floor in front of the fireplace, then stripped off her clothes and pulled him onto the blanket. Standing over him shivering, she realized that she’d have to get his wet clothes off if he was ever going to get warm. Kneeling down next to him, she took a deep breath and put her hand on his chest.

  “I’m going to get these wet clothes off of you so you can get warm,” she said, gasping when her hand came in contact with the hard muscles of his chest, not from the cold of his skin but because of a strange surge of electricity that seemed to pass between them.

  Chapter 2

  Calvin swam to consciousness when he felt a warm hand on his chest. It wasn’t just that the hand was warm that woke him. It was the surge of awareness that passed through him that woke him; it was a strange feeling, one both comforting and arousing. In the next instant, however, the pain in his shoulder overcame anything else and with a sigh he passed out again.

  Brooke watched the man as she carefully undressed him, afraid of what she might find. Once she had his soaked boots off, she slid his jeans off, careful not to touch him anymore than necessary, afraid she’d get that same jolt she had before. She left his soaked boxers on, not brave enough to remove them, then she covered him up with a pile of blankets.

  It was much harder to remove his shirt, she was worried about injuring him further, not to mention the pain it would cause if she started moving his arm. Finally, she grabbed the scissors and cut the shirt off, gasping when she saw the wound in his shoulder, which had stopped bleeding but looked raw and ugly. After dragging the blankets up to his chin, she put more wood on the fire, went up to her bedroom, threw on an old t-shirt, and grabbed her emergency kit and the emergency radio.

  The man was clearly still passed out, but when she slid her hands under the blanket, he felt a bit warmer. Grabbing the radio to call for help, she stared shocked at the blinking red light that told her the battery was dead. They must have left it on when Margret’s husband had shown her how to work it. Cursing her stupidity, she gently set the phone aside instead of throwing it like she wanted to. Taking a deep breath, she began searching her brain for the first aid training she’d just received, then opened the emergency kit and began assembling bandage material.

  After rolling the man over and determining that the bullet had gone all the way through, she cleaned the wound, cringing every time the man flinched in his sleep, but knowing that infection was their biggest enemy. She managed to bandage the shoulder after applying as much antibiotic cream as she could, then sat back to rest, pleased that she’d done a decent job of patching the man up.

  By the time she’d cleaned up the mess she’d made, she was sweating, but the man still looked pale and he was shivering. With each shiver he grimaced, the shivering clearly making the wound hurt. Then he began to thrash around making her worry that his wound would start bleeding. Knowing her only choice was to get him warmed up faster, she piled a little more wood on the fire and looked for more blankets.

  When the shivering only got worse, she used her last resort and stripped off her t-shirt, then crawled under the blankets with him. Gritting her teeth at the intimacy of the situation, she rolled the man onto his uninjured shoulder and scooted up to his cold back. Wrapping her arms around him, she gasped at his cold flesh as well as at the wave of electricity that passed between them.

  The man sighed and the shivering began to cease almost immediately as he soaked up her body heat. When he finally lay quietly, she thought about moving away but was afraid to disturb him. Finally, as the storm began to play itself out, now only a quiet patter of rain on the roof, she let her eyes drift closed, exhausted from the events of the last few hours. Telling herself she’d only sleep for a few minutes, she drifted off, the man’s heartbeat under her hand.

  Calvin awoke, realizing that one of his arms was numb while the other was throbbing. As he was trying to remember what had happened to him, he also realized that there was a very female body pressed up against his back and that female body was barely dressed. Cracking open his eyes, he scanned the room trying to figure out where he was, but no matter how hard he tried, he had no memory of how he got here or who was snuggled up to him.

  His last memory was stumbling through the woods following a light he’d spotted, then he remembered what was wrong with his shoulder; he’d been shot. When he tried to move it, pain shot through it like his shoulder had been stabbed with a hot fireplace poker. Gasping, he woke the woman who quickly scrambled out from under the blankets and stood looking down at him.

  Clearly, she’d forgotten that he was here and that she’d spent the night wrapped around him. Then the memories must have come flooding back because she looked from him to herself standing in her bra and panties. “Oh, um, you were so cold and you started to shiver and it was making your wound hurt and so I had to warm you up fast. I, uh, guess I feel asle
ep,” she stammered, then fled the room.

  Calvin watched her flee, unable to stop the chuckle that bubbled up out of his chest. His shoulder protested the movement, but the sight he’d just seen seemed to dim the pain just as well as any painkiller could. When the woman returned, she’d put on a big fuzzy robe and slippers, her face pink with embarrassment. She crossed the room and poked at the fire, adding logs until it flamed to life. Then she took the poker with her and sat down across the room.

  “You look much better this morning. I guess you know that you’ve been shot, the bullet went completely through, but it’s a nasty wound. We need to get you some help,” Brooke said, her eyes trained on him where he lay on the floor.

  Calvin searched his memory for a second. “The last thing I really remember clearly is falling off a cliff, then wandering around until I saw what must have been your light. I remember throwing rocks at your door because I’d fallen and I couldn’t get up.”

  Brooke considered that for a minute. “Who are you and why were you shot?” she asked, not breaking her stony stare.

  Calvin considered how much to tell her, but decided the truth was the only option. Otherwise, she might think he was dangerous. “I got shot trying to protect my nephew and another child. I’m sure you heard that we found an Indian burial ground, but there was also a treasure and someone thought they could use the kids to get to it. I’m Calvin Montgomery, Cooper is my brother.”

  Brooke looked at him for a long time, then got up and left the room, coming back with a binder she was flipping thought. She finally found the page she was looking for and looked at it for a long time, then back at him. Satisfied, she set the book down and returned the poker to the stand by the fireplace.

  “Well, that makes me feel better, now I won’t have to shoot you too,” she said, then smiled at him. “I’m Brooke Jenkins by the way. You really do need some medical attention, but I’m afraid the battery on the emergency radio is dead,” she said, heading to the kitchen.

  “Don’t worry, someone will come looking for me before long, they’ll have been out all night,” Calvin said, trying to get comfortable.

  Brooke came back from the kitchen with a glass of water and some painkillers. “Sorry, all I have is over the counter, but it will help with the pain a little,” she said, kneeling down to help him take the pills, trying to hide her reaction to touching him. “Are you hungry? I could make some breakfast.”

  Calvin swallowed the pills, shocked at the feeling of Brooke’s hands on him and the instant rush of desire that followed the bolt of electricity that passed between them. She acted like she was unaware of it, but he saw the slight shaking of her hands as she helped him get more comfortable. Intrigued by the feeling, he reached out and placed his hand on her arm; this time not only did he feel that simmering electricity and desire, but a feeling of comfort as well.

  She looked so shocked at his touch that he drew his hand back, then said, “I need to thank you for saving my life. I don’t think I would have made it through the night.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, shaking a little as she got up. “I’m going to make us some breakfast and then if no one has come for you, I’ll go get help.”

  They’d just finished breakfast when there was a loud knock on the door. Brooke jumped but then realized that it must be the search party. Peeking through the curtains, she breathed a sigh of relief when she recognized Margret’s husband in the group. Throwing open the door, she let the men in and after that it was pure chaos for a few minutes while everyone fussed over Calvin. It wasn’t long before they had him loaded up in a truck and on his way to the hospital, everyone crediting Brooke for saving his life.

  By the time she was finally alone that afternoon, after hours of questioning by both the family and the authorities, the sun was sinking in the sky and she was exhausted. Her mind swirling with thoughts of buried treasure and kidnapping, she fell asleep without even taking her clothes off. When she awoke the next morning, the world seemed normal again and she almost thought the events of the previous day had been a dream, but it had been far from a dream. Only a few days in Coldwater Canyon and she’d already had to treat a gunshot wound.

  She spent the morning putting the house back in shape, wondering where she was going to do her laundry. She was all for living simply, but no way was she going to wash her clothes by hand. Getting out a notebook, she began a list of things she’d need to look into, laundry at the top. Deciding that the best approach was to go about her day as normal, she began to unpack, thinking about Margret’s suggestion that she move her bed into the living room until she had heat.

  The bedroom she’d chosen had a wonderful view of the mountains, but she knew how cold it would be in the winter; she shivered even thinking about it. When she’d finished in the bedroom, she moved on to the kitchen but was interrupted by the first of many visitors she’d have that day. Most pretended to be concerned for her safety after the storm, but she knew that what they really wanted was to hear about her rescue of Calvin.

  By the end of the afternoon, she hadn’t accomplished much on list, but she’d met all of her neighbors and shared so many cups of coffee she was swimming in caffeine. Still, she now felt like a part of Coldwater Canyon including so many invitations for dinner that she’d had to start writing them down. She hadn’t heard a word about Calvin’s condition all day, but he was never far from her thoughts. The way her body reacted to him was still a mystery to her.

  Of course he was a very handsome man, but he certainly wasn’t the first handsome man she’d been around. What she’d felt when she touched him had been deeper than just physical attraction, but she wasn’t sure that the circumstances hadn’t been responsible for that feeling. Something deep inside her had been awakened because he was injured, not because they were connected in some strange primal way. She was about to go inside and have dinner when Marissa and Scott pulled into the front yard on four wheelers.

  She waited on the porch for them. When they got close enough, she asked, “Marissa, how is Calvin?”

  Marissa smiled and said, “He’s fine. You did a good job of patching him up. They did a bit of surgery just to clean the wound up, but he’ll be out of the hospital in a few days.”

  Brooke breathed a sigh of relief, then they followed her into the house. When Marissa and Scott left more than an hour later, they’d filled Brooke in on the stash of gold coins they’d found and the subsequent kidnapping and Calvin’s getting shot.

  “So, this Max guy thought that kidnapping the boys would force Paige to give him the coins, but she chased after him and eventually killed him?” Brooke asked, a bit shocked. She’d expect something like that in the city but not out here.

  “That’s it in a nutshell. Calvin got shot trying to distract Max so the kids could slip away,” Marissa added. Then said, “It’s not usually like this around here.”

  Scott grunted, and said, “Marissa should have warned you that trouble seems to follow her around.”

  “Hey, you get in just as much trouble as I do,” she said, slapping him on the arm.

  Brooke was jealous for a second, the love between the two of them so clear it made her heart ache. She’d never been a particularly romantic person, and since the loss of her family she’d closed her heart to anything that might cause her more pain, but looking at Marissa and Scott, she felt a stirring deep inside. It would be nice to have someone to share life with, someone who knew her inside and out and still loved her.

  All too soon, Marissa and Scott had to leave. She was sorry to see them go, but they left one of the four wheelers for her. “Now you can get around the park. There are only a few roads, most of the time it’s easier to travel with one of these. This winter we’ll all get snowmobiles, so if you don’t know how to drive one let me know. We’re putting together a group lesson since most people have never been on one.”

  “Put me on that list,” Brooke said, walking them to the door.

  The n
ext day, while she and one of the helpers Marissa had hired for her were stripping the old wallpaper in the entryway, a car pulled up to the house. The man who got out of the car was carrying a huge bouquet of flowers and a look of annoyance on his face. When she answered the door, he asked for her, shoved the flowers into her hands, then turned around and got back in his car, mumbling under his breath about charging more the next time.

  She took the flowers into the kitchen and put them down on the table, pulling off the card, pleased when she saw that the flowers were from Calvin. He’d written her a note on a little piece of paper and stuffed it into the envelope. With shaking hands, she opened the note.

  I can never thank you enough for saving my life, but maybe these will brighten your day.

  Smiling from ear to ear, she took the flowers and put them in the living room where she could enjoy them; they were already filling the house with a wonderful aroma. Right then and there, she decided that she’d plant lots of flowers and keep the house full of them. Humming, she went back to work, ignoring the questioning look her helper sent her, enjoying the little sizzle of desire that was so new to her. Calvin would never be interested in her, but it was fun to daydream about him and encouraging that she felt even a bit of attraction for a man. She couldn’t wait to tell Winter about all the excitement.

  Calvin opened his eyes to find himself in a hospital bed. When he turned his head, he saw Cooper slumped in a chair next to him. His eyes were closed, but Calvin could tell that he wasn’t asleep. “Hey,” he croaked through a very dry throat.

  Cooper sat up and smiled at him. “Hey, about time you woke up. You’d think you’d been shot then wandered around the woods for hours in the rain,” Cooper said, the relief to see Calvin awake clear on his face.

  “So that all really happened,” Calvin said, after a while. “It all seems really hazy to me. Are Paige and the boys okay? I think I remember you telling me they were, but....”