pedigree.
She took a deep breath and idly picked up one of the books in his stack. “They were looking for Crew.”
Bryan’s face brightened. “How is Crew?”
“I wish I could tell you. He has a drug and alcohol habit. Sometimes he has a place to live, sometimes not.” Now she was the one who sounded bitter. Crew, two years older than her, had been her protector when they were kids. But years of having to be an adult too soon had worn him down. He’d started out a petty thief and picked up a drug habit along the way.
Bryan stroked his chin. “I always liked Crew. I liked the way he looked out for you.”
Sarah felt a stab to her heart. Crew had made bad choices; she knew that. But the image that burned in her mind of her brother was of him offering her his last morsel of bread when they’d run away from an abusive foster home and hidden in the forest. Her heart warmed toward Bryan that he could remember the most positive thing about Crew, the reason she still loved her brother.
“I keep hoping he’ll turn things around.” And she wouldn’t give up that hope no matter how bad things looked.
Bryan stepped away from the window. “Sometimes people do, you know. Get their lives together.” He rested his gaze on her long enough to make her feel self-conscious. His look could still send an electric charge through her.
Sarah glanced down at the book she had picked up. C. S. Lewis, one of her favorite authors. But what was Bryan doing with a book like this? He’d never been interested in books with faith messages when she’d known him. Maybe his comment about people getting their lives together had been as much about himself as her brother. She hoped so. She’d found faith at the home where she stayed while she was pregnant. She’d gotten her life back on track at Naomi’s Place. Maybe somewhere along the road Bryan had had a similar transformation. She’d never stopped praying for him.
She put the book back on the stack. “We should get going.”
“Yeah, it’s a little bit of a hike to get to the truck.” Bryan walked across the room. “Do you want a drink of water before we go?”
She rose to her feet and stared out the windows that provided a panoramic view of the forest. “My throat is dry.” She still couldn’t figure out why Bryan would choose such a lonely job. He’d always been so outgoing. “How long do you stay up here at a time?”
Bryan lifted one of the gallon containers of water to the desk and retrieved a cup. “Three weeks on and one week off.”
She crossed her arms and stared down at the rocks and forest they had climbed through to get here. She saw a flash of yellow and then Deep Voice stepped free of the thick forest. His gaze traveled up toward the tower. Panic pulsed through her. “Bryan, I think we have a problem.”
THREE
Adrenaline flooded through Bryan’s body. The thug charged straight for them at a steady and intense pace. He was the bigger of the two men, muscular to an excess. The short, thin man must have taken off in the vehicle, maybe planning on taking the winding road that would eventually bring him to the other side of the fire-lookout tower in case his friend didn’t make it up the mountainside. It was a rookie mistake for Bryan to assume they’d both left in the SUV. He’d been too distracted by Sarah to think straight—and he was paying for that now.
“What do we do?” The fear in Sarah’s voice intensified.
His mind catapulted from one possibility to another. She was the prime target. He had to get her out of here.
Bryan flipped open the glass door that led to the catwalk, grabbed a length of rope and tied it off on the central post in the tower. “He’ll come up the stairs. You slip off this side of the tower. Go due east, and you’ll see a trail that leads to an open area. My truck is there.”
“But what about you?”
The look in her eyes was wild. She was so afraid. He longed to take her in his arms, but after all they had been through ten years ago, would she even accept his comfort? “I’ll hold him off.” He walked over to a box and pulled out a set of keys which he handed to her. “Go to town and get help. I’ll be all right.”
She shook her head. “We should stay together.”
“Go, Sarah. I can handle this guy.” He pushed her toward the door. They didn’t have time for a discussion.
She grabbed the rope, stepped out on the catwalk and moved to the edge of the tower. Her gaze locked on to him, longing filling her eyes. He’d seen that look before. She’d been a strong, resourceful young woman when he’d met her. But there was a vulnerable side to Sarah that stayed hidden from most people.
He pressed his hands against her face, kissed her forehead. “Go. You’ll be fine.”
The look of fear and doubt remained as she shook her head.
“And I’ll be okay, too,” he added.
She nodded, though the worry lines in her forehead intensified. She slipped off the side of the tower and disappeared from view.
He raced over to the radio. Where was his replacement? Had the sheriff made it out to the road by the lake and stopped the thug in the car? He had to let the authorities know what was happening. Before he could reach anyone, he heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
The fire tower door had no lock. He could buy Sarah precious minutes by holding this guy off. He’d taken down him and his cohort once before. This time it was only one man.
The footsteps intensified, grew louder.
Bryan grabbed a steak knife. There was no closet, no place to hide and try to get the jump on the guy...or was there? He crawled out on the catwalk and pulled himself to the roof just as the door burst open.
He pressed flat against the roof, angling his head so he could see through the skylight. Maybe the assailant would look around, figure they hadn’t come to the fire tower and leave. That would be the best case scenario. He’d be able to catch up with Sarah and make sure she got safely into town.
From this angle he could see the top of the man’s head. There was a pistol in his hand. So, he had found the gun.
The thug surveyed the room. Then he noticed the open door where Sarah had escaped. Bryan cringed. In his haste, he’d forgotten to close it.
The assailant stomped through the open door that led to the catwalk. He studied the rope where Sarah had descended.
With his belly pressed against the roof, Bryan swung around, head facing downward on the slanted roof. Sarah should be emerging into an open section of the forest. If the thug looked in that direction, he would see her and know where she’d gone.
Bryan slid down the roof. The man looked up but had no time to brace himself before Bryan leapt on top of him, knocking him to the ground and breaking a section of the railing around the catwalk. Both men recovered and rose to their feet. Bryan was relieved to notice that the assailant had dropped his gun in the struggle. The narrow catwalk provided little room to maneuver. Bryan struck the man across the face, hoping to throw him off balance.
The man had a square jaw and eyes like slits. His lip curled back, revealing large teeth. He lunged toward Bryan. If he could get an upper hand, find a way to subdue him and restrain him, the sheriff could question him and find out why they were after Sarah’s brother.
“Where is the Langston woman?” The man barreled toward him.
Bryan dodged, but slipped off the edge of the catwalk where the railing had broken free. He fell to the rocky ground below. It took him a moment to recover. When he looked up, he couldn’t see the man.
On hands and knees he scrambled to the base of the tower. The overhang of the catwalk shielded him from view. He worked his way around the tower back to the stairs.
Grabbing a thick branch for a weapon, he