Shadow Valley Read online

  Shadow Valley

  By Kate Sherwood

  What could be worse than having a long-over affair with your boss—the governor—hit the headlines? Professional and personal exile. Banished from the state capital to ride out the media storm in Shadow Valley, Montana, Megan Archer is tasked with promoting cooperation between local police and the federal agents investigating the area’s drug trade.

  When she’s rescued from a near-drowning by handsome Joe Cody, Megan thinks things might be looking up. Until she finds out that her savior is an alleged drug kingpin and head of a notorious crime family. Yes, Joe has an edge, but the attraction between them is too intense to resist. She refuses to believe that the guy who saved her is a criminal.

  Megan has a responsibility to the law, but in this case a job well done might mean Joe’s downfall. And as Megan uncovers more secrets, it becomes clear that Joe’s not the only one in town who can’t be trusted. Something’s rotten in Shadow Valley…

  54,000 words

  Dear Reader,

  I love October because it’s the perfect month for my favorite season: fall. I adore the sights, sounds, smells and feel of the fall season. Pumpkins and straw bales, colorful mums and burning woodsmoke. And the crisp, cool weather that’s perfect for sitting on the porch and reading a book while sipping hot apple cider.

  This month, we have an excellent variety of books perfectly suited to this very thing, starting with All He Ever Desired, Shannon Stacey’s latest Kowalski family contemporary romance. As always, Shannon delivers a captivating romance with just the right touch of light humor. Joining her in the contemporary romance category is HelenKay Dimon with Lean on Me, the second book in her trilogy. Make sure to check out her first Carina Press title, It’s Not Christmas Without You, and look for We’ll Be Home for Christmas, coming in December 2012.

  If you’re gearing up for Halloween and are in the paranormal mood, check out Regan Summers’s newest novel, Running in the Dark. Debut author Bryn Donovan offers a wonderful paranormal romance in Sole Possession, while Diana Copland’s male/male paranormal romance A Reason to Believe will haunt you long after you’ve read the last page. And joining Diana with a male/male release is L.B. Gregg and her rerelease Men of Smithfield: Seth and David.

  Fans of steampunk romance will be thrilled to see new releases from two of our favorite steampunk authors: Cindy Spencer Pape and Jenny Schwartz. Look for Moonlight & Mechanicals and Courting Trouble to release in mid-October. And as an aside, can I tell you how much I love Jenny’s series name of The Bustlepunk Chronicles? It’s a perfect fit for this series about a spunky young woman in steampunk Australia.

  I’m thrilled to welcome Val Roberts to Carina Press with her newest science-fiction romance novel, The Valmont Contingency. Val and I worked together in the past and I love her voice! And returning to us with another release in the fantasy romance genre is Karalynn Lee. If you’ve never had the pleasure of immersing yourself in one of Karalynn’s worlds, now’s the time to check out Heart of the Dragon’s Realm.

  My team is especially excited about this next book from Julie Rowe. As fans of Downton Abbey, they fell in love with the first book in her new historical romance series set during World War I, Saving the Rifleman.

  If you’re wondering where the romantic suspense is, not to worry, Kate Sherwood offers up a spine-tingling suspense, Shadow Valley. And mystery author Janis Patterson returns with her newest novel, Beaded to Death.

  To round out the month of October, we have two spicy erotic romances to tempt you. With No Reservations, Lilly Cain kicks off her new erotic series, Bad Girls Know. Last, but definitely not least, the book from Christine d’Abo’s Long Shots series I’ve been waiting for. Mouthwatering sex club owner Josh is finally going to get his own happily ever after and you don’t want to miss the mind-blowing chemistry Christine has written to get him there in Calling the Shots.

  We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to [email protected]. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.

  Happy reading!

  ~Angela James

  Executive Editor, Carina Press

  www.carinapress.com

  www.twitter.com/carinapress

  www.facebook.com/carinapress

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  The cold brought Megan Archer back to herself. At first it was confusing, then terrifying. Her situation returned to her in flashes: the feel of the car losing control as it hit a patch of ice, her feet stomping with the full strength of her body on a brake pedal that produced no response, the alien scream of metal as the car slid along the guardrail and the explosive, bewildering impact of the air bag. And now, water. Cold water, seeping into the car, up to Megan’s calves already, and even deeper in the backseat.

  She broke out of her daze and scrambled madly, but she couldn’t get anywhere, and it took her far too long to realize that it was her seat belt that restrained her. She tried to control her rising panic, and forced herself to move slowly and calmly as she unbuckled herself and reached for the door handle. The handle gave, and she pushed the door open about an inch, just enough to let in an extra gush of cold, muddy water, and then it stopped moving. She pushed harder, threw her shoulder against it, but there was no give.

  “Help!” she screamed, but it was pointless. She was on a deserted stretch of mountain highway. If there was anybody close enough to hear her, they’d already have seen the situation and come to her assistance. She fought free of the deflated air bag and shifted across the bucket seats just as the car lurched, settling deeper into whatever pond or river it had found. The water began pouring in faster. She jerked the handle of the passenger door. Locked. She hit the button to release it, but nothing happened. The knot of panic in her gut twisted and tightened, and she jammed her fingers down on the lock release, then slammed it with her fist. Nothing.

  Her whole hand was trembling as her fingers moved to the window button. She took a moment to collect herself, to will the car to work. But when she hit the button, there was no response. She scrambled across and frantically turned the key in the ignition, couldn’t remember which way it was supposed to go and so tried all the options, her fingers bearing down on the window button the whole time. The key turned, but there were no engine sounds, no lights on the dashboard and no movement of the windows. The water was up to her waist.

  She pulled her legs up onto the seat and crouched there for a moment, trying to find a plan. She needed to get out. Oh God, she needed to get out. Doors and windows wouldn’t work, so she needed to find another way. She whirled around to look at the backseat. It was a two-door car, but maybe she could get out through the trunk somehow. The hatch—did it have a release on the inside? S
he couldn’t remember, and the water was deeper behind the front seats, but she scrambled back anyhow. She took a deep breath and plunged her whole body into the water, half swimming, struggling toward the back of the car. The water was so cold it hurt her face, and seemed to slow her brain, but she needed to keep going. Her fingers found the release for the seat, and finally something worked. She was able to pull the seat forward, but then had to pull away, bringing her face back to the front seat for a desperate gasp of air. The water was halfway up the steering wheel, but she couldn’t take time to think about that.

  She was afraid. Terrified. And she didn’t know what to do. Stay in the front and try to kick out the windows? Swim to the back and risk getting stuck in the tight space while she struggled to find the hatch release that might not even exist? Her panic made her breathing too ragged for her to draw a deep breath, and the cold made it hard to move, hard to think.

  When she caught a flash of movement from outside the car, at first she thought she was hallucinating. But she wasn’t. There was a shape out there—a man, his silhouette tall and strong against the late afternoon sun—and he was coming toward her. He was wading now, coming fast, the water up to his thighs and his eyes locked on hers. It was as if she could feel his strength pouring into her body.

  He reached the driver’s side door and didn’t even try to open it. He yelled something she couldn’t make out, but then he gestured with his arm and she saw that he was holding a hammer. She understood, pushing away from the door and bringing her own arm up to cover her face. The glass shattered with a crash, and then the man ran the handle of the hammer along the edges of the window, efficiently clearing the remaining shards out of the way. As soon as the hammer withdrew, Megan surged forward, toward the broken window, toward freedom.

  The man caught her easily, wrapping one strong arm around her waist as she struggled through the window and he lifted her free. She threw her arms around him, and her legs too. She was frantic, climbing him as though she was shinnying up a tree, and he seemed to understand.

  “Shh,” he said. “You’re out. It’s okay.” He turned around, and she realized that he was looking back at the car. “Were you alone?” She didn’t answer right away, and he pulled her face away a little and yelled right in her ear. “Is there anyone else in the car?”

  She managed to shake her head in the negative. Then she gasped in the chill air, clung to him and didn’t even try to stop her sobs. The man brought his other hand around to help support her, and he started wading through the water. She knew she should help. More than help—she should put her damn feet down and walk on her own. But her body was still shaking and it seemed completely unwilling to obey the weak suggestions from her brain. And the man didn’t complain.

  He shifted her and she realized they were out of the water. He was holding her with one hand while he used the other to pull them up the bank toward the road. She managed to convince her legs to unwrap from his waist for long enough to help a little, pushing in a generally upward direction, but as soon as the ground leveled out he swung his free arm down under her legs and lifted them again, carrying her easily across his body.

  When he stopped walking and seemed to want to detach her, her first instinct was to protest, and she clung more tightly with her arms.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart, but we’ve got to get you warm.” His voice was low and steady, and it made her trust him. She reluctantly let her legs fall to the ground, but stumbled when she tried to support her own weight. “Okay, take it easy,” he said, and he steered her backward and then lifted her, his hands strong at her waist, until she was sitting on something soft. She looked around enough to realize that it was the passenger side of the bench seat in the front of his truck.

  He pulled away and she could see his face for the first time. Damn. He looked like he felt: strong and rangy and tough. Short dark hair and startling blue eyes in a tanned face that showed the beginning stages of what would one day be called weathered. He was looking right back at her, but she didn’t think he was feeling the same appreciation that she was. Instead, he seemed to be assessing her almost clinically. “You’ve got a bruise on your forehead—you hurt anywhere else?” As he spoke, his fingers were working at the zipper of her jacket, and she had the irreverent thought that it felt like he had a lot of experience undressing women. “Hey,” he said, gently but firmly. “Stay with me here, okay? You hurt anywhere?” He slid the jacket off her shoulders and all the way down to the footwell of the truck.

  “I d-d—” She was shivering so hard she couldn’t get the words out, so she shook her head instead.

  “Okay, good. So the big problem’s the cold.” He leaned forward past her, and she felt the warm air rush out of the truck’s vents as he cranked the heat. “I’m going to take some of these clothes off, okay? You can put my coat on afterward, but it’s half an hour into town, and I don’t want you hypothermic when we get there.” He paused, and looked her in the eye as if assessing her understanding. “I’m going to take your blouse off, okay? And your boots and pants. I’ll leave your underwear, okay?”

  She tried to lift her hands, tried to start unbuttoning the blouse herself, but her fingers felt swollen and clumsy and she couldn’t manage. He let her try for a while as he pulled off her boots and socks, then folded his hands over hers. “Let me,” he said, and she gave in. She let him pull the blouse off and throw it down with her coat and boots, and then his fingers were deftly undoing the button on her jeans. “Lean back,” he suggested, and she did. When he slid one hand underneath her to get her to lift her hips, she went along with that too. God help her, if this man pulled her underwear down and climbed on top of her, she didn’t think she’d protest, and not just because she wanted the warmth. But he did no such thing. He disposed of her jeans and grabbed a heavy parka off the hood, wrapping it around her shoulders before swinging her legs into the truck and shutting the door carefully.

  She was vaguely aware of him rummaging around for something in the bed of the pickup, and then she was startled by a bright light over at the side of the road. A flare, she realized. The man was back behind the wheel a moment later. “Hopefully that’ll burn for long enough for the cops to get here. We don’t want someone else wading in to pull out a person who isn’t even there anymore.” For the first time, Megan realized that her rescuer was soaking wet too, and shivering.

  “You okay?” she managed.

  He looked almost startled. “Yeah, I’m good.” He seemed eager to change the focus of the conversation. “I was heading to Shadow Valley—that work for you? There’s no hospital, but there’s a clinic.” He checked his watch. “It might still be open, and if it isn’t, there’s a doctor on call for emergencies. Also, there’s a motel. The car’ll be the highway patrol’s problem, I guess.”

  “Okay,” she said. She’d have liked to say more, but her voice still wasn’t cooperating. Her brain wasn’t running too smoothly either. It was working in fits and starts, recognizing the name of the town and the motel where she’d already arranged to stay, but not supplying her with much more. Her whole being was still focused on the simple things, like being warm and dry and, most importantly, safe.

  He pulled out onto the road, then pointed his chin toward a cell phone on the dash. “No coverage out here, but you can make calls when we get closer to town. The cops, to get that mess cleaned up. And in case anyone will be worrying about you.”

  “Thank you,” she managed, and pulled her frigid feet up to nestle in under the coat. She was shaking harder now than she had been earlier. She wasn’t sure if it was still the cold or if her nerves were setting in.

  “You’re okay,” he said gently. “The shivers will help—it’s your body’s way of warming up. Just try to relax and let it happen.”

  She closed her eyes, but it was too dark, reminding her of the murky water in the back of her car, and she felt herself starting to sob again.
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br />   “Shit,” the man said when he noticed, and Megan almost laughed. She couldn’t blame him and he didn’t sound angry, just concerned. She felt one strong hand clasp around hers, and it helped. She clung tightly to it, and they rode like that for the rest of the way into town.

  * * *

  “Is somebody expecting you?” During the drive she’d recovered enough to let him know that Shadow Valley had been her ultimate destination, and now he was, understandably, looking to unload his responsibility.

  She shook her head. “I have a reservation at the Blue Pine Motel.” Her voice was almost back to normal.

  “Yeah, okay. That’s Shirley Dade’s place. Shirley’ll help you out with clothes, or whatever. I mean, she’s about three times your size, but she’s got daughters. She can lend you something from them, probably.”

  “I can just buy something,” Megan said quickly. “If I could borrow your coat until I get in my room, and then dry today’s clothes out overnight, I should be okay. And maybe they’ll get my luggage out of my car tonight?” She’d used his phone to call the police as soon as there’d been a cell signal, but she had no idea what the timeline would be on that process.

  “You won’t be able to buy much. There’s a hardware store that carries a few work shirts and jeans, but otherwise… The nearest Walmart’s down in Kalispell.”

  Megan thought of her high-end designer wardrobe, soaking in the muddy water of some damn drainage ditch half an hour outside of Nowhere, Montana. She wondered if any of the clothes would be wearable—all the business clothes she’d packed were dry clean only. “Is there a car rental place?”

  The man shook his head reluctantly. “No. Sam Barker, over at the garage—that’s where the cops are towing your car, so you’ll meet him later—he sometimes has a couple extra cars lying around.” He didn’t look happy with his suggestion. “But they’re not always in great shape. If you’re going out of town, you need something reliable.”