make him a target—his eyes had adjusted to the dark, like a nocturnal animal in search of prey.
You took the boat, didn’t you, Momma?
With the canoe missing, he had to make a leap in logic that his mother had taken it to escape whoever had assaulted her. Sam preferred picturing her on the run, rather than believing her attackers had made the gators happy with an unexpected meal.
But you were hurt . He tried to imagine what she would’ve done.
His momma would’ve let the current take her downriver to stay ahead of her attackers and go where she knew there’d be help. But with her being hurt and losing blood, anything could’ve happened to her.
When the hair on Sam’s scalp bristled, he stopped dead still and listened. The wind and rain made him strain to hear, but his instinct had triggered a reaction. He ducked low and dared to close his eyes and listen hard.
Come on. Make a mistake.
That’s when it happened again—a soft thud on muddy ground. He opened his eyes with a start and searched the shadows for anything that moved, but he was too late.
Someone hit him from behind. Sam hit the ground hard and grappled with his attacker. He countered with a shift in his weight, to throw the guy off balance and pin him, but his assailant beat him to it. Legs wrapped him up tight. In the slick mud, he couldn’t get a strong enough hold for leverage.
Sam reached an arm around the guy’s chest to toss him off, but when his hand touched something familiar, the shock stopped him cold. Long muddy strands of hair drifted in the wind and caught the glimmer of the moon. When fierce, dark eyes sparked a memory, he realized who had him pinned in the dirt.
Kate Cypress sat on his chest, covered in mud, and held his arms down. Her badge glinted in the pale light. Under the muck, she had on her uniform.
“What the hell are you doing, Kate?” he asked. He yelled loud enough for his voice to be heard over the battering wind. “I could’ve killed you.”
“Sam? Sam Rafferty?” She grimaced. “In case you missed it, I’m the one on top.”
Sam let the tension out of his body, except for the one place he could not control. With Fish and Wildlife Special Agent Kate Cypress pressing on his manhood, she took the fight out of him and replaced it with something else entirely.
After she let her guard down, he flipped her on her back and pressed his body against her. With his face inches from hers, he grinned.
“As I recall, you liked being on top.”
If he had any doubts about Kate hearing him over the blustering weather, those vanished when she glared at him.
“Don’t piss me off, Rafferty. I’m not in the mood.”
Kate pushed him off and sat up, resting her elbows on her knees. Sam couldn’t help but grin when he saw her covered in mud with her drenched uniform sticking tight to her body.
“You’ll have to take a rain check on the sex, Cypress. Sorry. Best I can do.”
Kate let out an exasperated groan aimed at his ‘rain check.’ Pissing her off came as naturally to him as breathing. She punched him in the arm before she stood and offered him a hand. The wind nearly toppled her over again. Sam took her hand and noticed Kate’s expression had turned grave.
“The forecast on the hurricane was wrong. It came ashore early,” she said as she brushed off her pants.
“That’s a newsflash. You and I both know weather forecasts are only horoscopes with numbers. What are you doing here, Kate?”
“I came to check on your mom and saw the cabin, all that blood. What the hell happened?”
“I have no idea, but I’m guessing she’s been shot,” he said. “The blood spatter in the kitchen had to be hers. That’s where she kept her shotgun stashed, but her canoe is missing. I hope that means she got away.”
“Whoever attacked her, what would they be doing out here…and during a hurricane? Hell, why would anyone attack your mom?”
Sam heaved a sigh and said, “Momma has that effect on
Christopher Knight, Alan Butler