She put out her hand to the desk to balance herself. She was cold. Colder than she’d ever been in her life. There was no heat in the cabin. No protection from the biting cold. Her limbs felt like blocks of ice. She shivered uncontrollably. Once she started, she couldn’t stop.

The man lit a cigarette and lazily blew smoke. He leaned against the small sink and watched her with cold eyes.

“I won’t beat around the bush. I’m going to kill you.”

Panic flooded her. Her throat tightened, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t want to die.

“But I’m going to be civil about it.”

He looked amused at his proclamation. He even emitted a dry chuckle.

“I’ll offer you a choice. A very quick, painless death, or,” he paused for effect, “it can be a very messy, very prolonged, very painful death. Your choice.”

Her mouth went dry.

“All you have to do is tell me who all knows what happened on your wedding night. Very simple. Mr. Bardwell is very keen to protect his interests. Which would be difficult in a jail cell, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

He took out a large, sharp-looking knife as he spoke. He caressed the sleek metal with his fingertips, running them over the edge to the point.

Holly’s mind raced. He was a talkative bastard. He was clearly enjoying the situation. Obviously if she talked, it would be over with in a matter of minutes. She eyed the knife, abject terror raging through her body.

She closed her eyes and tried to summon her courage. She pictured Ryan and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from weeping. She couldn’t allow this bastard to get away with what he’d done.

“So what will it be, Mrs. Bardwell? Shall we enjoy a brief conversation before your untimely demise?”

Her hand splayed out over the desk and she stood to her feet. “Go to hell,” she spat.

His eyes hardened. He crossed the space between them and without warning, grabbed her arm and yanked it behind her back. He whirled her around until she faced the desk. She cried out in pain as he continued to exert enormous pressure on her arm.

Higher he pushed. She screamed in agony and then she felt a pop. He’d broken her arm!

He let go and her arm fell, dangling at her side. Spots dotted her vision, growing larger until she feared she’d black out from the pain. Her hand scraped the desk trying to hold herself upright. Her fingertips brushed across a pencil and she curled her hand around it.

Rage taking control, adrenaline pumping through her veins, she whirled around, pencil in hand and plunged it into his face. It sank into his cheek, and he stumbled back howling in pain.

She wasted no time. Ignoring the horrific pain in her left arm, she flew at him, ramming her knee into his groin. Once, twice and a third time until he fell to the floor.

She didn’t hesitate even for a moment. She ran.

She threw open the door to the cabin and plunged into the snow. Icy wetness met her hips as she scrambled to gain her footing.

Her heart sank. She’d never make it out alive. The snow was too high. Too deep. She’d freeze to death in her scanty clothing long before she could make it to safety.

She set her jaw until it ached. She wasn’t going to die at the bastard’s hands. If she died, it wouldn’t be without a fight.

Ignoring the pain, the cold and the horrible numbness affecting her limbs, she struggled on, determined to put as much distance between her and her abductor as she could.

She headed for the trees, hoping to lose herself in the wooded area. A hysterical laugh bubbled from her throat. How could she lose anyone in three feet of snow?

Her head popped back. She was yanked backwards, a hand wrapped tightly in her hair. She turned on him, fighting tooth and nail. Her survival was at hand.

Metal glistened in the early morning sun. Then tearing agony exploded in her chest. She fell back into the snow, dimly aware of the man holding a knife above her. Her uninjured arm sank into the snow. Her hand grasped for purchase and knocked against a rock. She gripped it tightly, prepared to make her last stand.

With a cry of rage, she hauled her arm forward and bashed the man’s head with the rock as he plunged downward with the knife again. This time the knife glanced off her shoulder, cutting a long gash down her arm.

He fell face first into the snow, and she gave him no time to recover. She rolled, raising the rock high again and hitting him as hard as she could. He went still, and she dropped the rock.

She rolled and scooted away, trying desperately to regain her footing. The world tilted and swayed around her, her mind swimming in sheer agony. He’d stabbed her in the chest. She could feel hot blood running over her skin. Her left arm dangled uselessly beside her. Somehow she had to find a way home.

She stumbled down the hill, away from the cover of the trees. She needed to be in plain sight now. Her only hope was rescue.

She closed her eyes. She’d never told them she loved them. Hot tears fell, mixing with the blood that ran freely down her body. If only she’d told them.

* * *

Adam drove the Land Rover to its limits. For two hours, they’d searched every nook and cranny of the mountain. There was only one possibility left, and despite his best effort, he was fast losing hope.

“Around the next bend, take the path off the road,” Ethan directed, his voice grim. “We have to hope the snowfall hasn’t made the trail impassable.”

Adam tore around the corner and braked as the turnoff rushed to greet them.

“Adam look!” Ethan cried out.

Adam wasted no time. A fresh trail down the path. One made recently. By a vehicle. He sped up the bumpy incline, slipping and rocking in the snow. The four-wheel drive made quick work of the path, and soon they rounded the bend to the old mining cabin.

A black SUV glinted in the sunlight. Adam roared to a stop, grabbed his rifle and piled out of the Rover. Ethan followed quickly behind, his gun up and ready.

Adam frowned when he saw the door wide open. He ducked under the window and peered inside through the entryway. It was empty.

He and Ethan rushed inside.

“Someone’s been here,” Ethan muttered. “Very recently.”

Ethan picked up a still lit cigarette lying on the floor and flicked it away.

Adam’s heart sank as he looked around. There were visible signs of a scuffle. Blood on the floor. He whirled around and ran out the door, his eyes searching the snow for fresh signs.

Deep trenches in the snow led away from the cabin and into the trees in the distance. He and Ethan leapt off the porch and began charging after the tracks.

A few seconds later, Ethan put a hand out to halt Adam.

“Look!”

Ethan pointed to a body in the distance. They ran over to find a man slumped in the snow. Blood seeped from a wound in the back of his head.

Adam rolled him over. He was unconscious. Hope beat a steady rhythm in his heart. Had Holly been able to escape him?

Then his eyes came to rest on the dark red blood that stained the snow. Blood that did not come from the man. His eyes followed the splatters across the snow where it continued down the hill.

“Let’s go!” he shouted.

They powered down the hill. Adam prayed the whole way. God let them find her. Let her be okay.

“Adam, there she is!”

Adam looked ahead in time to see Holly wobble and slump into the snow. He ran the remaining thirty yards, his heart screaming the entire way.

When he got to her, he reached down and pulled her up to his chest.

“Oh God,” he moaned.

There was so much blood. It bathed her entire front. Her left arm lay at an odd angle, swollen and discolored.

“Holly! Holly, baby,” he cried.

Ethan sank down beside him and helped Adam lift her from the snow.

Her eyes fluttered weakly. Disorientation clouded their depths. She pushed and shoved, trying to stand.

She was running on adrenaline, and she was fast running out. She began to shake violently.

“She’s going into shock,” Adam said. “We have to get her out of here now. Radio in. Tell them to have the chopper waiting. We’ll have to get her as far down the mountain as we can.

“Ryan,” she cried out. “Oh God, Ryan.” She struggled weakly against Adam, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“Shhh, baby. Ryan’s okay. I swear it.”

She didn’t seem to hear him.

“I never told…I never told them I loved them,” she whispered.

Adam held her tighter against him. He buried his lips in her hair and blinked back tears. “God, I love you too, baby. I love you too.”

He stood up, holding her carefully in his arms. He had no idea the extent of her injuries, but he had to get her down the mountain fast.

Ethan rushed ahead, clearing a path in the snow for Adam. They struggled up the hill, each step excruciatingly slow. Finally the Land Rover was in sight. Ethan surged forward, redoubling his efforts.

“Get me the first aid kit,” Adam barked. “I’ll sit in the backseat and lay her down. I need to try and stop the bleeding.”

Ethan threw open the back and hauled out the first aid kit, several blankets and a wad of bandages.

As soon as Adam got into the back with Holly, Ethan cranked the engine and roared back down the trail toward the main road.

“How is she, Adam? I need to know something,” Ethan said, desperation creeping into his voice.

“The bastard broke her arm. Looks like he stabbed her in the chest. Christ, there’s so much blood!”

Helplessness had him in a firm grip. He kept a finger to her neck, feeling for her pulse. It was weak and erratic, but it still beat against his skin.