Rescuing Liberty: Perseverance Book 1 (21 page)

With the girl looking on, I cut large chunks
of quail meat from the bones, placed them into the skillet, and
covered them with water. Once the lid was secured, I balanced the
pan in the fire.

“
You’re boiling it?” Connor eyed the
skillet skeptically.

“
Yah. Everyone knows quail is better
if you boil it for awhile. Tenders it right up.” My reply was
polite even though I wanted to yell at him to mind his own business
and stay out of my kitchen.

“
Everyone knows that, huh?” he
asked.

I grinned. “Well, everyone who knows
anything about cooking quail.”

While the meat was boiling, Ashley and I
gathered a few small sticks and whittled one side of each to a
point. Once the quail was no longer pink in the middle, we used the
trimmed sticks as skewers. I sprinkled salt, pepper and rosemary on
each chunk of meat. Then we held the sticks over the fire, like
marshmallows, until the meat sizzled and browned.

Our labors produced mouth-watering smells
and scrumptious, tender meat. The outside slightly crispy, and
inside was a juicy, delicious perfection. Some veggies would have
perfected the dish, but it was still quite literally the best meal
I’d had in a long time.

Ashley was a little hesitant at first, but
the intoxicating aroma convinced even her. She closed her eyes, and
I watched as her taste buds experienced the culinary ecstasy of my
cooking. A big self-congratulatory smile spread across my face, and
I was in danger of breaking my arm to pat myself on the back when
Connor spoke.

“
I always wanted to marry a cook.” His
big, dark eyes studied me, daring me to react.

Fear humbled me immediately and I tried to
cover it up with a look of contempt. “Not this cook. Not even if
you were the last man on earth, Mr. Dunstan.”

Connor’s gaze bore into me, making my knees
knock. He sized me up like a witness he was about to cross-examine.
Arching an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curved up in a very
devious smirk. “Is that a challenge, Miss Collins?”

I looked to Ashley for help, but the
wretched girl was smiling! And that was the moment I knew I was in
serious trouble.

CHAPTER TWENTY

OUR BICYCLE TRANSPORTATION was a blessing,
making me wonder why I hadn’t thought of it sooner. We followed
Highway 18 for three days, turned north on Highway 203, and
continued for another three days. The soreness of my legs became
toned muscle as we averaged about ten miles a day on the bikes,
stopping frequently to hunt, fish or forage. There was always food.
Not an abundance, but enough.

As much as I hated to admit it, Connor and I
made a great team. We took turns scouting and hunting, teaching
Ashley as we went. I felt protected and safe with him by my side,
and hoped he felt the same. Everything was going so well until
Ashley started having stomach problems.

“
Ash, did you eat something bad?” I
asked after her third particularly long bathroom break of the day.
“Maybe some berries or something? If you did, you should tell
me.”

She smiled sheepishly. “No, nothing like
that.”

“
What then?” I asked. “This isn’t
normal. Something is up. You keep running off to the bathroom and
leaving Connor and I … alone.” I did a mental face palm. “Oh crap.
That’s it, isn’t it?”

“
I have no idea what you’re talking
about,” Ashley replied with her mouth, but her eyes said something
else entirely.

My stomach sunk. “You’ew playing match
maker, aren’t you?” I raised an eyebrow at her. “Please tell me
you’re not doing that.”

She smiled sweetly.

Uh-oh.
I
massaged my temples and closed my eyes.

“
I … he said he just wanted to talk to
you.” She fidgeted and scanned the area. “He wants to get to know
you better. It’s so sweet, Lib.”

I shook my head and chuckled, flattered
about and terrified of Connor’s attention. “Ash, I thought you were
my girl? How can I trust you to have my back if you’re plotting
against me?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry, Lib. I didn’t think
you’d be upset.” She stared down at her feet and I felt like a
heel.

I put my finger under her chin and raised
it. Forcing her eyes to find mine, I smiled. “I’m not upset. You’re
a sweetheart, Ash. Love ya girly. Just promise me; no more bogus
bathroom breaks. Connor can get to know me just fine with you there
with us.”

She dimpled. “I promise. And I love ya
too.”

* * *

We stopped a few miles south of Monroe, at a
duck infested shoal of the Skykomish River. There were feathered
meals everywhere, so we parked our bikes and approached slowly. At
the edge of the river I crouched down, taking my pack off my
shoulders.

“
What are you doing?” Connor squatted
beside me.

I turned my pack upside down, holding the
items inside with one hand while crumbs tumbled out. There weren’t
many morsels in the bottom of my pack, but it was more than enough
to gain the attention of every duck on the water, and within a five
mile radius. They honked, quacked, and flapped, charging us like a
bunch of moms racing toward the best deal of a Black Friday
sale.

Ashley screamed and ran for her bike.

I was tempted to do the same, but hunger
provided me with a sudden and unexpected burst of courage. I
whipped out my dagger and faced the horde of frightening fowl.
Connor did the same, and between the two of us, we took down one
Canadian goose and two ducks before they realized the danger and
scattered. We picked up our kills and were carrying them back to
the bikes when Connor stopped and held his finger to his mouth. His
head tilted to the side for a second, then he dropped his goose and
drew his gun. He sprinted past Ashley and disappeared into the
bushes.

Ashley and I looked at each other, and then
studied the bushes that had just swallowed Connor. I neither saw
nor heard anything. I motioned for Ashley and she ran to me.

“
Did you hear anything?” I pulled my
gun out of my pack and flicked off the safety.

“
I don’t know. How can anyone hear
anything over those?” She pointed toward the ducks that were still
scattering.

Connor parted the bushes and reappeared,
jogging toward us. His brow was furrowed and his body was
tense.

I raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

He turned and stared back at the direction
he’d come from. “I’m not sure.” Bending down, he retrieved the
honker he’d dropped. “But we should get out of here just to be
safe.”

* * *

Connor set the pace when we started up again.
He pushed us hard and spoke little. Ashley and I had to work to
keep up, which ended up killing my already low front tire. By the
time we made it to the outskirts of Monroe I was riding on the rim.
I patted the handle bars of my bike and urged it forward. “You can
do it, Pinky, that’s a good, little, sissy-bike.”

Ashley giggled. “I don’t think that’s going
to help.”

“
I know, but look up there.” I pointed
ahead of us.

We were almost to Main Street, and across
the road sat a small store with a sign that read ‘Bob’s Bike Shop.’
The store looked harmless enough from the outside. The front window
was broken, but the vandalism matched the surrounding buildings. We
made our way inside and examined the remaining inventory.

“
What do you think about this one?” I
pulled a man’s bike down from the top rack.

“
Black?” Ashley asked. “I like this
one.” She pointed to the Pepto-Bismol pink bike by her
knee.

“
Seriously?” I asked. “Do I look like
a girl who likes pink?”

She giggled. “What about purple?” She
pointed to the equally girly-bike beside the pink one.

I sighed dramatically and swung my leg over
the black K2 mountain bike. “What’s wrong with black?”

The sound of a shotgun being cocked behind
us interrupted our girl-bonding shopping day. I immediately
surrendered, raised my hands above my head, and slowly turned
around to see who was threatening us.

“
Wow.” The word escaped through my
lips as I stared at the woman before me.

Our rifle wielder looked like she’d just
stepped out of a Macy’s clothing store. Black, fitted jeans hugged
her slim but shapely figure and were tucked into black knee-high
boots. Her chest was accentuated by a red, fitted scoop neck top
and her shiny, brown hair was cut stylishly into a chin-length bob.
She looked clean and smelled of expensive perfume. Frosty blue
eyes, highlighted by the perfect amount of dark liner, roved from
my black frayed t-shirt to my dirty, rugged jeans, to my worn
sneakers, and then back up to my battered face. My own
frizzy-yet-greasy curls were trying to escape the braid I’d
fashioned to restrain them, and I was acutely aware of the odor
coming from my body. I was quite a bit taller, but somehow she
managed to look down her nose at me, snorting in disgust. I had
been dismissed.

“
What are you doing in my shop?” She
stared out at us over the double-barreled shotgun.

“
Ah.” I glanced out the window at the
large sign that had drawn my attention. “So, you’re …
Bob?”

She sneered at me, clearly unimpressed by my
amazing sense of humor and keen observation skills.

Connor appeared behind her and pressed his
glock against the back of her head. “They’re bike shopping, Bob.
Put down the gun, nice and easy.” He took a step closer to her.

She didn’t move.

“
You’ll want to put it down,” Connor
insisted. “Yours is more powerful, but mine is faster.”

I didn’t snicker. Not quite.

She lowered the shotgun, raised her hands in
the air and turned toward Connor. He kicked the rifle out of her
range.

Her voice turned sultry when she recognized
him. “Oh my word. You’re Connor Dunstan, aren’t you?”

I rolled my eyes at the smile that spread
across his face.

There was a rustling sound, followed
by footsteps to my left. We all glanced in the direction to see a
man aiming a semi-automatic at Connor. He was dressed in
cargo-style camouflage pants and a black, sleeveless t-shirt. There
was a tribal band tattoo wrapped around his well-defined, right
bicep. His hair was dark and short, revealing the small stud that
sparkled in his left earlobe. He had that rebellious, bad-boy look
about him that reminded me of Matt Damon in the
Bourne
movies. I watched him, wondering if he was
as competent and deadly as
Jason
Bourne.

Connor grabbed the woman’s arm and pulled
her between himself and the Jason Bourne wannabe. Glock aimed at
the woman’s head, Connor and the man stared each other down. Guns
raised, muscles flexed, testosterone levels flaring, the situation
had every potential to end in tears.

“
Put the gun down, Jeff,” the woman
said, sounding calm.

“
I will when he does.” Jeff continued
to size up Connor.

“
Don’t you recognize him?” she asked.
“He’s that famous attorney from Olympia. The one in the
commercials. He isn’t a murderer. Right, Connor?”

Connor did not confirm nor deny this.
Instead he said, “I’m willing to talk.”

Jeff gave a stiff nod.

“
There.” The woman smiled. “Everyone
agrees to play nice.”

Eyes still locked, they slowly lowered their
weapons. No one made a sound nor drew a breath. When they stood
back up, their firearms remained on the floor.

The woman turned to face Connor, holding out
her hand to him. “My name’s Gina.” She nodded to the man. “Jeff is
my brother.”

As Connor gripped her hand, her smile
widened. If I was a jealous woman—or a woman who cared for Connor
at all—I’d be concerned. But thankfully I wasn’t.

I cleared my throat anyway, to make sure
Ashley and I hadn’t suddenly become invisible. “I’m Liberty, and
this is Ashley.”

She glanced at me again with a look that
told me exactly how unimpressive she found me. My jaw tightened in
response.

“
Now then.” She turned her attention
back to Connor. “Sorry about the guns, but there hasn’t been anyone
around here for over a week. You frightened us.”

“
Understandable. You can’t be too
careful these days.” He motioned to my bike. “Got a flat tire. Just
need a replacement. We have some things we can trade …”

Gina looked thoughtful as she considered
Connor. “We’ve been looking for traveling companions. Which
direction are you heading?”

Connor’s glance shifted from Gina, to Jeff,
back to Gina. “North.”

I was standing to the side, so I saw the
look that Gina and Jeff shared—like a heated argument with their
eyes. His jaw clenched and she smiled in victory.

“
Jeff and I planned to head to Canada,
once we found Dad.”

“
Gina—” Jeff shifted his
feet.

She held up a hand in his direction. “No,
Jeff, I miss him too, but obviously he’s not coming back. Maybe
he’s up north waiting for us. We can’t wait forever for him.” She
turned her smile back on Connor. “Maybe the gentleman is kind
enough to let us tag along?”

Gentleman?
I
looked around the store, wondering if a gentleman had suddenly
appeared. Nope. Still just Connor and Jeff.
Maybe Jeff’s a gentleman?

Connor crossed his arms and leaned back on
his heels. “We can trust you?”

“
No more than we can trust you. But
there is safety in numbers, and we can all benefit from an
alliance.” She intensified the suggestive nature of her words by
placing her hand on Connor’s arm.