"Listen to her." Eddie's smile looked so warm and normal no wonder her child had trusted him. "Nobody wants to hurt your mother, but we need to know about the stories.

Be a brave girl and tell us so everyone can go home."

Kirstie's hold stayed tight on Paige's leg. "You mean the princess story?"

"Yes, what about the princess story?"

"The one where the Princess Kirstie marries a king and they get the treasure hidden under the bush."

"What bush?"

"The one with pretty flowers in the side yard that Daddy and I planted for Mama for Mother's Day. The azzy, uh, az-aylee, um—"

"Azalea bush?" Eddie prompted.

"Yeah, that one."

The men exchanged nods.

"You did well, Kirstie Adella." Eddie stood, patting her on the head. "Your daddy would be very proud of you."

Bile burned Paige's throat stronger than the sting of her arms straining against the biting grip. The cops weren't going to make it.

Chuck smiled without it ever reaching his dead eyes. "Nice work, Eddie. How about getting the plane ready now."

The plane? Ready for what? Already Eddie ducked beneath the wing, a toolbox in hand.

Was Rusty going to fly them away? But the plane was wrecked, the nose gear sheared off.

"What if Kirstie's wrong?" She struggled to reason with monsters even as she knew it would be hopeless. "If you kill us you'll lose any hope of finding out more. At least keep her alive."

"There's no other choice," Chuck declared. "Once Eddie was stupid enough to tell her his name, we knew it was only a matter of time until they tracked him and she identified him."

"But the police already know about him."

Leaning closer, Chuck whispered against her skin, the sickening spice of his cologne almost gagging her. "And that won't be a problem once I take care of him, too. The poor man will die in the accident with you, and don't bother trying to warn him. He'll never believe you, anyway."

A few feet away Eddie pulled a screwdriver from his toolbox and hammered it through the gas tank. Fuel trickled from the small puncture and tainted the air. The large grill lighter sticking from his back pocket sent a chill of premonition through her.

Chuck stepped back and raised his voice. "I really don't want to scare the child any more than we have to. You two can make this easy and peaceful, or it can be frightening and painful. Your choice. If you fight us, the coroner will simply assume injuries are from the crash. If he can even tell from the charred bodies."

She'd been right not to trust Chuck all those years ago, but she hadn't even begun to realize the depth of this man's immorality.

He turned to Rusty. "Put a gun to the child's head while I tie up the adults."

Her skin turned to ice in the face of such pure evil. Her dead husband may have been a criminal, but never would he have put a gun to a child's head or burned people alive. In that knowledge came at least some peace in the middle of this hell. She hadn't given years of her life to a total monster. Maybe in his own twisted and, yes, selfish way, Kurt had enough humanity in him to love them.

Rusty backed from Paige, hands up, weapon pointing skyward. "I'm not putting a gun to the kid's head. You do it."

The guy was squeamish over which way they died? Good God. At least the arguing might buy some time to angle for a better position.

Eddie tossed his screwdriver in the box and stepped forward. "Fine. I'll do it."

They were out of time. They would have to take their chances with bullets flying.

Paige kept her eyes trained on Bo, love pulsing through her and from him so darn bright she could swear it lit the dark landing strip. Pure love. Just like Bo had said, the real kind of love that empowered. She watched, waited, and saw...

 Now.

Bo launched, chopping at Chuck's gun hand while simultaneously booting Rusty in the gut. The traitorous pilot toppled, a shot echoing, going wild as he flailed. His head smacked the side of the Suburban. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Paige kicked the legs out from under Eddie, his head slamming the ground hard for a disorienting second she fully intended to utilize to protect her child.

Crouching, shielding her daughter, Paige shoved Kirstie toward the Suburban. "Crawl under, punkin. Lie flat. Don't watch."

From the corner of her eye, she found Bo and Chuck punching, fighting, each working toward the dropped gun while Eddie struggled to his feet. Rolling away, Paige took cover behind the bumper to gauge her next move.

She scooped up a fist-size rock from beside her tennis shoe. She wasn't the pampered wife of a crooked businessman any longer. The past months had increased the strength of her muscles and resolve.

And this bastard who had stalked her child was heading toward Bo.

Paige sprinted, leaping onto Eddie's back, catching him unaware. Arcing back the rock, she bashed his temple, once, twice. Blood smeared his head while he shouted. He pumped bullets into the air then down again wildly. Pocking the ground near Bo's feet.

Then farther.

Toward the plane.

 Thwump.

The Cessna exploded. Heat seared her, they fought so close.

The force of the explosion rocked through the ground. Eddie stumbled backward, fell, slamming her to the hard-packed dirt of the runway. Air whooshed from her lungs. She went light-headed. Oh God, she couldn't faint now.

Paige struggled for breath with Eddie's weight still pinning her. Flames licked higher in a circle around the burning craft. A spark from the bullet igniting the leaked gas? Lack of air left her foggy.

Another gunshot sounded. Jolting her out of her daze.

"Bo!" she couldn't stop the scream from ripping through her throat. Adrenaline surged, and she flipped the unconscious man off her and to the side.

A weaving shadow towering in the dark, Anderson pulled the trigger again.

Bo staggered back. Blood bloomed from his right arm, staining white cotton crimson. He dropped flat.

"No! No, no, no, no," she chanted, crawling across the hard-packed earth toward him.

Bo rolled. Alive. He was alive. She scrambled to her feet.

And then Bo was on his side. Rusty's weapon in hand. Blood dripping down his arm, Bo raised the gun and popped two bullets in Chuck's kneecaps.

Shrieking, her old college friend staggered, crashed to ground, gun slipping from his hand. Paige scrambled to scoop up the 9 mm and trained it on the three men while Bo levered up to kneel. Anderson writhed while his two accomplices lay prone and unconscious for now.

Kirstie scampered out from under the Suburban, and Paige didn't even bother reprimanding her for not staying put. Her daughter raced, curls bouncing, and threw herself against Bo.

He flinched, but stayed silent and cupped the back of Kirstie's head in reassurance.

Oh, how she loved him, this incredible man, so much more of a man than Kurt could have ever hoped to be. Please, please, please, let Bo be all right so she would have the chance to reassure him she wouldn't leave him as so many had done before.

Blood trickled down his arm. "Are you okay?"

Gasping, she choked back a mix of laughter and sobs. "I'm fine. Kirstie's fine. I love you.

But ohmigod, are you all right? I love you so much. You need to sit down."

He swayed under her hands. "I think maybe you're right about sitting down. And hold that other thought for later because we have some talking to do, lady."

She totally agreed.

Sirens wailed in the distance finally. Bo's cell phone apparently having done its work even though it now melted in flames. He settled back, Kirstie held close. Paige kept her gun steady while she stood firmly planted by Bo's side.

Exactly where she intended to stay.

How long would he have to stay stuck on this damn gurney with a breeze blowing up his hospital gown that left nothing to the imagination?

Bo shifted, winced, paper crackling under him. Son of a bitch, the stitches and IV for antibiotics in his arm hurt.

Once the cops had arrived at Anderson's place, EMS had sped him to a downtown civilian hospital, where a military flight surgeon from the base waited. The bullet had passed through so Doc had only needed to stitch him up with a local anesthetic. He would be transferred to a room soon for observation.

Meanwhile, they could stuff their painkillers until he spoke to Paige.

The battle-ax of a nurse checking his IV antibiotics had sworn Paige was fine. She was next door in another exam room with her daughter—who was also fine, the nurse had rushed to assure him while shoving him back down onto the gurney before he could go find them.

The cop cars—five of North Dakota's finest, had arrested and hauled away Rusty and Eddie. Anderson had made his trip out in an ambulance, but all three were alive to spill their guts. Eddie seemed especially eager to cut a deal—fast—before he met his old friend Kurt Haugen's fate in prison. Authorities in Charleston were no doubt already beginning to work their way through the legalities of digging up some poor homeowner's azalea bush.

Bo had already been on the phone with his commander who'd been remarkably restrained in chewing him out for making him send another pilot to baby-sit the plane with Mako.

Now, nothing more held him in North Dakota.

Except two very special people.

A tap sounded on the door before Paige tucked her head around as if his thoughts had called her. "Bo? Are you awake?"

"Totally. Just waiting for you."

And wasn't that the truth? He'd been waiting for this woman for longer than he could remember. He'd certainly waited through dreams of her for a whole year before he'd finally come to claim her, the only woman he would ever want to be Mrs. Rokowsky.

He couldn't wait to hear her repeat the words she'd blurted seconds before the cops arrived.

 I love you. A sentiment he returned.

The nurse glanced from one to the other, bustling across the room. "Don't let him walk,"

she ordered before slipping out into the hall.

Paige leaned back against the closed door. "Kirstie's asleep with three cops watching over her. Gotta love the extra attention from the police department around here."

Exhaustion was stamped across her face, his blood still staining her 4-H T-shirt along with a hefty coating of soot from the burning Cessna. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth as if struggling for words.

Let her keep thinking, because he had two words that needed saying, no more waiting.

"Marry me."

Paige's bottom lip slid free from between her teeth, her eyes wide with shock behind her glasses. She blinked fast, then arched away from the door. She tapped his IV pole. "Those must be some incredible drugs you're on there, Captain."

"I'm not on any pain meds. Those are just antibiotics. I told those needle-happy nurses to hold off on the rest until we spoke."

That stalled her feet. "Really?"

"Really. Now come sit here beside me." He'd rather have her on his lap—or under him—

but that would have to wait a few days.

She hitched up onto the gurney beside him, flattening a hand to his forehead with a cool, gentle touch. "You feel okay, but—"

"Trust me to know what I am, and right now I'm a man in love with a woman. I'm a man who's finally found the woman he wants to build a life with. And most of all, I'm a man who's damned determined to win her over."

"That's really beautiful, but..." She swayed toward him with a trembly smile that boded well for the rest of what he had to say.

Ooh-rah. The gunshot wound didn't sting nearly as much with Paige's smile to distract him.

"Shush. No more 'but this' or 'but that.'" He pressed a finger to her mouth. "I'm also a guy in a lot of pain. The quicker you let me have my say, the sooner I can have some serious drugs."