Wind River Wrangler (Wind River Valley #1)(94)

A shot rang out.

Bark flew a few feet from her face, the splinters striking the side of her face and neck.

Screaming, Shiloh winced, ducking and running over the crown.

He had a gun!

Sobbing for breath, stumbling, she hit a patch of wet pine needles, her feet jerking out from beneath her. Shiloh grunted, suddenly finding herself sliding down on her back and butt, heading straight down over a small cliff. She threw out her hands, a croak tearing out of her as she flew off into space.

Slamming into the rocks and pine needles twenty feet below, she landed with an “Oomph!”

Terrorized, she looked up the cliff. She saw Leath there, aiming his pistol right at her.

Screaming, she raced toward a huge fir tree.

The bark exploded near her head. And then several more bullets poured into the tree she scrambled behind, cowering, gripping the roots, trying to make herself small enough that he couldn’t hit her.

A sudden bolt of light flashed above her. The whole area went blindingly light. Shiloh gasped, hands flying up to her eyes. She felt electricity tingling throughout her. The next thing she knew, she was being hurled through the air, tumbling end over end. The noxious odor of ozone stung and burned her nostrils. She landed hard, the wind knocked out of her lungs. She lay semiconscious on the ground, the rain pummeling her face, forcing her back to awareness.

Thunder followed.

As she lay there, partially stunned by the near miss of the bolt, the thunder shook the hill like it was Jello-O in a container. Her whole body vibrated with the fierce sounds rolling through the area.

Where is Leath?

Shiloh rolled to her side, forcing herself to her hands and knees. Dizziness assailed her. She heard herself gasping like a fish out of water.

Leath? Where?

Twisting her head, the pall of rain coming down even harder, making her feel like she was enclosed in a curtain she couldn’t see through, Shiloh saw nothing but the torrent surrounding her. Beneath her hands water ran in violent rivulets down from the top of the grove. With a small cry, Shiloh launched herself to her feet, stumbling, running, wobbling down the other side of the slope. She couldn’t see Leath. That meant nothing. He would find a way down that twenty-foot cliff and come after her. The rain was hiding her. She ran brokenly, her legs cramped, pain flaring up into her thighs. If she didn’t run, she’d die.

Another zigzag of lightning sizzled overhead.

Shiloh screamed, throwing her hands over her head, ducking and falling.

The bolt hit somewhere nearby. The hill shook. The ozone filled the air and was rapidly dispensed by the curtain of heavy rain. Shiloh was blinded, unsure of her direction now as she slowly got to her feet. Her calves were cramping so bad that she could feel fist-sized knots in each of them. It hurt to take one step. Biting down on her lower lip, she forced herself to break into an awkward, stumbling trot, continuing down the hill.

The rain started to let up the farther downward she jogged, fell, got back up, and then jogged some more. The wind wasn’t as fierce. Shiloh’s hair was plastered around her. All her clothing was soaked, clinging to her body. She was chilled, her hands feeling numb from the coldness the storm had brought with it.

Suddenly, as she moved around a huge hole in the ground, she saw Leath.

He smiled at her, his pistol raised, no more than forty feet away from her, his back to the hole that had been dug out of the ground.

“STOP!” he yelled at her.

Shiloh jerked to a halt, staggering, facing him. Blinking away the water running into her eyes, her breath coming in gasps, she faced him. Leath’s blue eyes were slits. The smile on his face sent icy terror through her. Her eyes were fixed on the pistol he held out in both his hands. His smile never wavered.

“You little bitch! You’re dead!”

A huge dark brown shape hurtled out of the muddy hole in the ground.

Shiloh screamed.

The sow grizzly bear roared, attacking Leath.

Leath jerked around, his eyes growing huge. He fired his pistol five times into the angry eight-hundred-pound female grizzly before she leaped upon him.

Shiloh blinked, backing away, hearing Leath screaming, his arms flailing as the grizzly’s five-inch fangs sank into his neck and shoulder. Blood was pouring out of the bruin’s skull where he’d shot her, and she was furious, slinging Leath around like he was a rag doll between her massive jaws. Grunting, the bear took him to the ground, her huge front paws holding his body down so he couldn’t escape.

Leath screamed weakly, raising his pistol, trying to fire it again at the angry bear.

Shiloh kept backing away, horrified. She stumbled over a rock, falling.

“I’ve got you. . . .”

Warm, strong hands caught her as she fell.

Roan!

She sobbed, jerking a look up at him as he hauled her against him, his pistol aimed directly at the distracted grizzly bear.

“Roan!” she croaked, her voice high, off pitch.

Roan pulled her around so she couldn’t see what the bear was going to do to Leath. “Come on,” he urged, tucking her beneath his arm, his arm around her waist, holding her close, holding her so she could remain upright. “He’s dead already.”

Everything became a blur. Roan was jogging down the flat, muddy road and she had wrapped her arm around his narrow waist. Her legs wouldn’t work. The cramps were so painful she was crying out, unable to run with him. Roan stopped and had hauled her up into his arms, carrying her. The rain was slowing. It was no longer bullets hurled from the sky. Unable to cry, Shiloh could only feel relief as Roan approached his truck.