Rescuing Liberty: Perseverance Book 1 (7 page)

When we forgot to “moan and groan,”
about the lack of comforts in the wilderness, we actually enjoyed
ourselves. He taught us the dangers and benefits of his natural
playground with never ending enthusiasm. I grew up traipsing around
the forest after him with Michelle by my side. He never gave up on
our wilderness training, and I was grateful now more than ever.
Without the things he taught me, I would have died months ago.
Thanks to Howard, not only could I survive, but I could also
provide.

Encouraged by the stream, I rummaged
through the tall grass until I found a decently strong stick; about
three feet long. Ashley sat and rifled through her pack as I
removed excess branches and leaves. She watched me from the corner
of her eye. After measuring and snipping a length of fishing line,
I tied one end securely around the stick. To the other end, I
attached a hook. A small rock toward the hook end of the line acted
as a weight and completed my handiwork. Knowing the soft bank would
most likely yield what I needed next, I dug my fingers in until I
found a very large worm. I split the worm in half and secured one
portion on the hook and set aside the other half for
later.

Ashley made a sound of disgust. I
raised an eyebrow at her, and she returned her attention to her
pack.

Now that the hook was properly baited,
I cast my line and sat down to wait. The sound of water rushing
over rocks soothed my mind. The clean scents and tranquil music of
the forest assaulted the tense muscles in my neck and back, forcing
me to relax. I closed my eyes and reveled in the warmth of the sun
against my eyelids.

A shadow appeared, blocking my
sunshine. “That is not a fishing pole,” Ashley
announced.

I chuckled and opened my eyes. She had
her arms crossed and brows furrowed, scrutinizing my
work.

“
You don’t even know
who MacGyver is. What exactly do you
think
you
know about fishing poles?”

She eyed the pole. “I’ve seen them
before. They don’t look like … like that.”

“
Yes, but have you ever seen a
‘custom-built’ fishing pole?” I nodded toward the stick in my
hands.

She gave up and sat next to me. “You
can really catch fish with that?” Her expression changed from
doubtful to curious.

“
People have been catching fish since
long before fishing poles were made in factories.”

I felt something exploring the worm on
my line, and waited patiently as the top of the pole bobbed.
Something was nudging my line. Finally, the slack pulled tight.
Ashley gasped as I jerked the line up and to the left, pulling the
fish out of the water and dangling it over the ground.

Dropping the pole, we rushed to
inspect our catch: a large, healthy rainbow trout. Colorful scales
reflected the fading sunlight as it flopped around in the grass. I
cut the hook from its mouth and went to retrieve the other half of
the worm to try my luck again.

“
Wow,” Ashley said, still watching the
fish with eyes the size of silver dollars. “That was so cool. I
can’t believe you caught a fish with a stick!”

I cast my line back in and offered her
the pole. “Wanna try?”

She shook her head.

“
Come on Ash, it’s actually
fun.”

I handed her the pole and she griped
it tightly. Her entire body looked stiff.

“
Relax,” I encouraged. “This is
supposed to be the lazy person’s sport.”

She rolled her shoulders and sat back
down.

“
I used to fish a
lot, you know. When I was your age.” I snickered at myself for
sounding like an old lady. “My best friend, Michelle, and I went
fishing with her dad quite a bit. We’d only hold our poles for
about thirty minutes before we’d grow bored and
accidentally
fall in the
water so we could go swimming.”

She glanced at the stream. “Isn’t it
freezing?”

“
It’s only cold for the first few
minutes.” I shrugged. “You get used to it quickly.”

Ashley was starting to squirm when her
line went taut. She stared at the pole and her eyes lit up with
wonder. A precious smile stretched from one ear to the other and
she asked, “Is that a fish? For real?”

“
For real,” I replied and helped her
jerk the pole up to snag the trout. “You did it! Your first fish,
Ash!”

She bore her satisfaction like a gold
medal, beaming a smile that would make Mona Lisa proud. Between the
two of us we caught two more trout in the next half hour. Then I
taught Ashley to gut and clean them properly. As she brought the
skillet out of her backpack, I searched the area and gathered
twigs, grateful for the dry weather. I hardly ever chanced a fire,
but it was still light out and the idea of fried trout was making
me giddy. The area was heavily wooded, with lots of trees to hide
us, and it wouldn’t take long to cook our small catch. We would be
fed and long gone before nightfall.

The fish were happily sizzling in
spray butter and a small amount of the seasonings I’d found at the
farm when I heard an unfamiliar cough. I looked up to find a large,
grimy, disturbingly hairy man with a knife held to Ashley’s
throat.

“
Mmm, fish,” he said, but leered at me
and licked his lips like, ‘Mmm, woman.’

I wanted to kick myself for being
caught unaware, and feared how we’d pay for my negligence. Ashley’s
look of terror pulled me from my self-deprecating thoughts and
calmed me. Determined to act and not panic, I glanced at the pack
that held my gun. It was too far away and thus useless. My knife
was equally worthless, lying by the river, where we’d used it to
gut fish.

Um … Help?
I prayed.

Then, I acted. Putting on my best
helpless girl façade I asked, “What do you want?” I even lowered my
head and batted my eyes like I was working for an Emmy. The
trembling was real though.

The newcomer showed his repulsive
yellow teeth in a predatory smile that made my skin crawl. “Well,
let’s start with some dinner and then we can talk about dessert.”
He looked me over and bile rose in my throat as I tried not to
think too much on the insinuation. His eyes lingered on my chest.
“Two pretty, young ladies out here all alone. Bet you ladies are
lonely.”

It took a conscious effort not to roll
my eyes while I considered the workings of the amazingly vast male
ego. But he was armed and I, technically, was not, so I did what
women have been doing for years; attempted to disarm him with the
most charming smile in my arsenal and lied through my
teeth.

“
Absolutely. You
should put down the knife and join us. We’ve had no one to talk to
in so very long.”
Was that really a
southern drawl in my voice
? I swallowed
back ideas about women’s rights and equality and ignored the sound
of every woman in my lineage rolling over in her grave, as I
flirted with the filthy beast. All that mattered was
Ashley.

The man withdrew his knife from
Ashley’s throat and set her aside. My heart started to do a
back-flip, but he paused and narrowed his eyes; Ashley’s wince was
evidence that he’d tightened his big paw around her arm. “Promise
you won’t try anything or the girl here dies.”

Hoping he wasn’t smarter
than I’d assumed, I held up my hands in surrender and tried to look
submissive. It was a stretch, but I’d taken classes.
And Momma thought drama was just an easy
“A.”

“
Of course. What could we possibly do
to you? You’d kill us.” My cheeks were cramping from smiling so
long.

The stranger reeked of old
cigarettes, beer, and sweat. He sat next to me, putting his hand
inappropriately high on my thigh. I smiled at him through clenched
teeth.
Enjoy it now buddy, it won’t
last.

The two large, flat stones I’d
previously washed in the stream to use as plates were on the ground
beside the man. I stood and reached for one.

He held up his knife warningly.
“Slowly.”

I winked like we were
sharing some secret innuendo.
Gag.

He smiled back and lowered his knife.
I placed all four of the trout on the makeshift plate and handed
them to him with my left hand. My peripheral vision caught sight of
a shadowy figure quickly moving out of the bushes toward us. As the
stranger turned to see what had caught my eye, I grabbed the still
sizzling skillet and lunged forward, bashing him over the head with
it.

He toppled over just as Connor
withdrew his knife from the stranger’s back.

CHAPTER SEVEN

~Fort Lewis, Washington, June
13

A SHARP RAP on the apartment door woke
the commander sleeping inside. He climbed out of bed, wrapped his
bathrobe around himself, and hurried to the door. Unlocking the
chain, he pulled it open to see a soldier standing on his
doorstep.

He sighed, knowing the news couldn’t
possibly be good. “Report.”

The soldier saluted. “Yessir. Jacobson
has returned.”

The commander’s eyebrows rose in
surprise. “Jacobson? And the team?”

“
No sir. Just Jacobson.”

The commander closed his eyes and
crossed himself. He took deep breaths, in through the nose, out
through the mouth. “Has Captain Parkins been notified?”

* * *

Connor sized Liberty up. Her
frying pan-wielding proficiency had surprised and impressed him,
but he reveled in the fact that she seemed completely startled by
his presence. He’d been following them for days, after all.
Someone needs to pay closer attention
…

“
I won’t let you hurt her!” Ashley
yelled at Connor as she ran between them.

“
Do you really think
I would, Ash?” He stared into her accusatory eyes and saw exactly
what she thought he was capable of.
Will she hate me forever?

“
Libby is all I have. I won’t let you
kill her too.” Her jaw thrust stubbornly outward, like a pit-bull
refusing to release a bone.

“
You were following us this entire
time?” Liberty’s brows knit together. “And when you saw we were in
danger you what … rushed in to knife the guy and save the
day?”

Connor shrugged, leaned over, and
wiped his knife on the dead man’s shirt. Then he rifled through the
man’s pockets for anything that could be useful.

“
What are you doing?” Liberty sounded
appalled.

He retrieved a
lighter.
Bingo.
After shaking it to confirm it still had fluid, he offered it
to Liberty. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m seeing if he has
anything we need.”

“
You can’t steal from him! He’s dead!”
She stared at the lighter and shook her head. “I don’t want
that!”

“
It’s not like he’s going to use it.”
She still wouldn’t take it, so Connor shoved the lighter in his
pocket.

“
You—you—why did you kill
him?”

“
What?” Connor shook his head. “He
was—”

She held up the frying pan. “I had the
situation under control.”

“
How was I supposed
to know that?” he retorted and headed toward the stream, frustrated
by the fact that she was angry with him over the death of someone
who had expressed nefarious intentions toward her and
Ashley.
Can’t win no matter what I
do.

Liberty wouldn’t let it go. “We didn’t ask
for your help.”

He stopped and faced her. “Dammit,
Liberty, I promised my brother I would take care of his
daughter.”

“
Oh.” She raised her eyebrows. “The
brother you murdered?”

Connor’s jaw clenched as he
turned his back to her and slipped the pack from his shoulders. He
unzipped it while he walked, not wanting to spend a single second
more than necessary with the annoying blowhard. He’d unscrewed the
lid from the first water bottle when realization hit him.
Ash spoke to me! Did I hear that
right?

He stopped and turned to stare at her,
pack dangling from his hand. Ashley glared at him.

“
Ash?” he asked.

She turned her back.

Connor stepped toward her. “Would you
just hear me out? Please? Let me explain?”

She didn’t respond.

“
I loved them too,
you know.” He walked over and laid his hand on her shoulder.
“You’re all
I
have. Please don’t shut me out.”

Her shoulders tensed, and she shied
away. With her back still facing him her voice was quiet,
controlled, and dripping with disgust when she finally spoke.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t even look at me. I. Hate.
You.”

Connor closed his eyes and received
her anger as each word ripped through him, starving the hope he’d
been nourishing only moments before. He couldn’t blame her. After
all, he hated himself too. Over and over his mind replayed the last
words he spoke to his brother.