Protector's Instinct. Janie Crouch

flight plan and be in the air in less than an hour. He’d be with Caroline in under two. A madman genius had gotten to her once. There was no way in hell he was letting another.

      So much for keeping his distance.

       Chapter Five

      Over the last few months, Caroline had been learning to trust her instincts again. Her instincts had told her a few months ago that this trip to Big Bend would be a healing one for her.

      Now, nearing the end of day two, all alone with no one around for miles, she could honestly say she was damn happy she had followed her instincts.

      She hadn’t done it recklessly or without proper thought. She had planned. She’d considered. And finally, she’d just decided to take the chance.

      Sort of like how she’d learned to do everything else in her life. She knew that bad things could still happen; people intent on harming others would always be around. Caroline did her best to prepare herself never to be a victim again, including multiple self-defense classes and hours of strengthening her body in the gym. She’d trained her mind to be more aware of what was going on around her so things didn’t catch her off guard.

      But ultimately after all the preparations, she had to choose to just do it. To just do that thing that was a little bit risky.

      To trust that she could handle it.

      It wasn’t easy. And ironically, if Zane hadn’t come along at the Silver Eagle a couple of nights ago and told her she shouldn’t do it, Caroline might have chickened out. But that had been the final push she needed.

      “So suck it, Zane Wales!” she yelled at the top of her voice, since no one could hear her anyway.

      She loved being out here in the open. Loved that there was a one hundred percent guarantee that no one would knock on her door—the one sound that threw her into a panic every time she heard it.

      Why? Because there were no doors out here. Caroline grinned.

      The door-knocking thing was something she and Dr. Parker had been working through. Grace warned her that it may always be a trigger, and if so, Caroline would have to learn to live with it.

      She was proud of the progress she’d made. Proud of how far she’d come. Proud of her certainty that no man, no matter how big or strong, would ever be able to get the drop on her again. She may not win a fight, but she knew she wouldn’t be the only person hurt at the end of it.

      She just wished she could convince everyone else of that. Of her growth. She wished she could get people to treat her the way they had before the attack.

      As much as she liked Kimmie as her partner, Caroline would’ve had no problem working with a man day after day. But Chief Harris—one of her parents’ best friends and someone she’d known her whole life—hadn’t asked her. He’d had clout with the Emergency Medical Service director and had just done what he thought was best.

      Her parents and brother still couldn’t talk about what happened to her. They had wanted to hire a full-time bodyguard for her. When she’d brought up fairly basic questions—with what money? Why would she need a bodyguard when her rapist had died in prison?—they hadn’t had a good answer. So no bodyguard. But they still didn’t treat her the way they had before the attack. Everything they said to her or did around her now was always tinted with some sort of combination of protectiveness, worry and pity, depending on the activity.

      She hadn’t told them about this trip at all. It just would’ve put them over the edge. She’d sworn Captain Harris—Uncle Tim—to secrecy too.

      But she missed Zane most of all. She missed her friend, her lover, the person she spent hours arguing with about every topic under the sun. Of all the things she’d lost in the attack, the one she regretted the most was Zane.

      Like everyone else, he hadn’t known how to deal with what had been done to her. Hadn’t known how to treat her. It had been even worse for Zane because he’d been the lead detective on the case and hadn’t realized who the rapist was.

      But hell, Caroline had worked with Dr. Trumpold for months and hadn’t known it was him. They’d all been duped.

      She’d needed gentleness for the first few months as her body had healed from the attack. But then she’d needed her life to get back to normal. Nobody seemed to understand that. Zane definitely hadn’t understood it.

      Their relationship had always been so tumultuous, almost emotionally violent. It was just how both of them were wired: live hard, fight hard, love hard. But when Caroline had been ready to get back to the fighting and the yelling and, yes, the lovemaking, Zane had already programmed himself to be something else. Something she didn’t recognize. Didn’t want.

      And he’d quit the force. She’d been unable to fathom that. When she’d gone to his house, ready to fight him about it—honestly looking forward to the screaming match and whatever would come after it—he’d refused to engage. At all.

      He’d offered iced tea and told her they should maybe talk later when they were both calm.

      She could fully admit that she hadn’t handled the situation well. That she’d told him she didn’t want to be around him like that. That she didn’t even recognize him. Didn’t want to recognize him. To stay away from her until he could figure out who they were.

      She didn’t think he’d take it to mean she didn’t want to ever be around him at all. But that had been the last time they’d been close to each other. Until a couple of days ago at the Silver Eagle.

      She’d been such a fool thinking he’d seen the light, first when he came to talk to her and then when he’d kissed her. Zane Wales wasn’t ever going to see the light when it came to her. So she wasn’t going to pine for him any longer.

      Instead, she was going to celebrate being out here by herself. Celebrate the development of another coping strategy. Celebrate being alive.

      Trumpold had been escalating, and based on what Sherry and Jon had told her, he’d definitely planned to move on to killing.

      Caroline knew, deep in her bones, she was lucky to be alive. That Trumpold hadn’t been able to decide whether to kill her or not.

      She was alive. She looked around at the stark landscape of the Big Bend. She loved it here. Loved the open, loved the vast skies, loved being alone in the late-afternoon sun.

      She turned, annoyed at the sound of a plane flying relatively low overhead. A small plane, probably a flyby for tourists. Caroline just went back to gathering what she needed to build a small fire tonight for coffee and to warm up some of the food she’d hiked in with her. She also needed to check in with the park rangers. She did that every eight to twelve hours out of courtesy for her colleagues back in Corpus Christi. They’d get the report too and not worry.

      She was tempted to tell them all to just bug off and leave her alone, but she couldn’t. These were people who loved her. She wished they wouldn’t smother her with that love, but she couldn’t fault them for it.

      The plane came back by again and Caroline rolled her eyes. Big Bend was beautiful, but there wasn’t enough to see for a double flyby. Then she realized the plane was landing not even half a mile from where she was camped.

      Caroline grabbed her radio. She believed strongly in her independence, but she believed more strongly in not being stupid.

      “Ranger station, this is Caroline Gill.” She gave them her GPS coordinates. “I’ve just heard a plane land about a half mile south of me. Small aircraft.”

      “Yeah, we received a call from a Captain Timothy Harris in Corpus Christi.”

      “Captain Harris, yeah, I know him. Is there some sort of emergency?” She couldn’t think of any reason Captain Harris would be on his way or have someone on their way if it wasn’t an emergency.

      “No,