“I don’t suppose you know anything about people using shotguns on eagles around here?”
Keith shook his head. “Gramps has a rifle, not a shotgun.” He narrowed his eyes. “He wouldn’t shoot at a bird anyway.”
He seemed protective of his grandfather. She hadn’t intended to accuse. “That means you have trespassers.”
“Trespassers?” He rubbed the five o’clock shadow on his jaw. “You mean other than you, Jenna Murphy?” His tone lightened; all the suspicion she had heard earlier was gone.
Jenna’s breath caught. Something in the way he had said her name made her think he remembered her more than he was letting on. But why had he tried to hide it? Was her perception of their friendship so much different than his? True, he had been two years older than her, but she had felt such a special bond with him until that disastrous summer when he had changed so much.
The last time she had seen Keith, he had been seventeen and deeply troubled. That was the summer his visit had ended abruptly with an arrest for drunk driving. Etta and Norman King had been heartbroken about sending their grandson away, but the arrest had been the final straw. Keith’s drinking had led to wrecking farm equipment, nearly running over his grandfather and stealing from his grandparents. They had had no choice. His wildness had put everyone at risk. Jenna shook off the memories and returned her focus to the task at hand.
“That eagle went down on your grandfather’s property. Any idea who might be doing something like that?”
He drew his eyebrows together and his voice intensified. “No, but I will find out who it is. It’s not right to do that to my grandparents.”
Jenna turned her attention to the pet carrier she had dropped. “If you don’t mind, I have an injured hawk to catch.” She scanned the shorter trees and the undergrowth. No sign of the bird. The wounded hawk couldn’t get airborne, but had managed to bounce for miles as she’d tried to chase him down. A flightless bird didn’t stand much of a chance of survival. She had to find him before nightfall.
Jenna picked up the carrier and stalked a few feet away. She turned back around. “Good running into you, Keith Roland. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
He lifted a chin in acknowledgment of her comment but offered nothing in return, no explanation of what he was doing in town or how long he planned to stay. He must have mended his relationship with his grandparents, but when? What had he been doing for the last twelve years?
Shortly after the summer Keith left, Etta King had run into Jenna in town. She’d shown Jenna a picture of a clean-cut soldier, Keith. Etta had expressed hope that enlistment in the marines would “straighten that boy out.” Jenna didn’t run into Etta very much, and talking about Keith was painful for both of them. She had no idea if the military had been good for Keith or not.
She strode a few feet up the hill.
“Do you need some help finding that bird, Jenna Murphy?” Keith shouted after her.
For someone who didn’t remember her, he seemed to like saying her name.
A gust of wind wafted down the mountain, causing the limbs of the evergreens to creak. The breeze caught Jenna’s long brown hair and plastered it against her face. She shoved the wayward strands behind her ears. “That would be nice.”
After staking the post hole digger in the ground, he walked toward her with large even strides.
The wind settled. Something crashed in the forest, breaking branches. The injured hawk? No, it sounded like something bigger. Heavier. More dangerous. Jenna caught a flash of movement up the hill.
A noise she had never heard before shattered the silence. A sort of explosive snap pounded against her eardrums.
Keith’s eyes grew wide. He leaped toward her. “Get down.” He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her to the ground.
Her palms hit the hard earth; vibrations of pain surged up her arms. “What is going on?” She scrambled to get to her feet; he yanked her again down to the ground.
His arm went across her back like an iron bar. “We’re being shot at. Stay down.”
“Shot at?” Jenna shook her head in disbelief. Why would someone be shooting at them? Could it have anything to do with the injured birds?
Still on his stomach, Keith scanned the landscape around them.
A second popping explosion stirred up a poof of dirt five feet in front of them, confirming Keith’s words.
Jenna’s heart revved into overdrive. Her mouth went dry. “I’ve never been shot at before.”
He put his lips close to her ear. “I have. I know what to do. Those rocks up there will give us some cover.” He rose to a crouch, pulling her with him by grabbing the back of her shirt. “Stay low.”
Jenna’s mind reeled; she fought for a deep breath. What was happening? Why would anyone want to shoot at them?
Keith wrapped his arm around her waist. “You have to keep moving.”
The strength of his voice in her ear freed her from the paralysis of panic. At least somebody knew how to respond.
Her heart pounded wildly. Keith dragged her up the mountain.
Another shot shattered the air around her. She screamed. She stumbled.
Keith pulled her to her feet. “Stay with me, Jenna.”
She gasped for breath as he nearly carried her the remaining feet to the outcropping of boulders. Keith guided her in between two large rocks. The massive rocks allowed them both to crouch unseen and safe for the moment. Jenna pressed her back against the hard surface while Keith faced her.
Her pulse drummed in her ears. A tingling chill spread over her skin. She placed a hand on her somersaulting stomach. She could have died.
He touched a warm hand to her cheek. “You all right?”
Every muscle in her body trembled. “No. I’m definitely not all right. Maybe you get shot at all the time, but I don’t.”
“Jenna, look at me and take a breath.” He clamped his hands on her shoulders.
She shook her head, unable to focus. Her thoughts moved in a hundred directions at once.
His palms pressed against her cheeks forcing her to look at him. “You’re safe here. You are out of the line of fire. Do you understand?”
The warmth of his touch and the steadiness of his gaze calmed her. She stared into the deep gray of his eyes. She nodded. Not only did he have experience with being shot at, obviously he had dealt with someone falling apart, too. As he had said, he knew what to do.
The forest fell silent. Keith scooted away from her and scanned the sky above them.
“Why…why would someone be shooting at us?” Her throat was parched. An intense craving for a cup of cool water overwhelmed her.
“I don’t know, but they didn’t do a very good job of it. Either they are really bad shots or they weren’t aiming to kill. Maybe they are trying to scare us away.” He leaned forward to see beyond the protection of the rocks.
“Be careful.” She grabbed his arm, feeling the hardness of muscle beneath fabric.
“I don’t see anything out there.” He settled back, pulling his knees up to his chest. “We’ll wait a while.”
Their feet intertwined in the small space. Pebbles pricked the skin on Jenna’s hand as she rested her palm on the ground.
“I wonder what the trespassers are doing on Gramps’s land.”
“You mean besides shooting at us…and shooting at eagles and maybe hawks, as well?” A shudder ran through her body. She pressed her feet harder into the ground in an effort to get beyond the trauma of what had happened. They would have