Yuletide Suspect. Lisa Phillips

shook his head. She’d fallen asleep, probably exhausted from a day of travel and then showing up at his house only to face intruders. Tate slowed the snowmobile to a stop and left it to idle while he reached back and shifted Liberty so she was sitting upright.

      She looked even paler in the moonlight. He held her with one arm and then put his free hand on her face. When her eyebrows twitched, he took off his glove and touched the cool of her skin with his warm fingers. This would turn out to be a mistake, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from hugging her. It had been too long since he’d received any kind of affection from anyone. Dog slobber didn’t count.

      Liberty roused. Tate shifted her so he could see her face and said, “Are you okay?”

      She nodded, but couldn’t quite hide the wince. “Headache, but that’s all.”

      “Aside from the fact that you’re exhausted.” She always downplayed it when she was hurting. “Can you hang on some more? It’s not much farther.”

      She looked up at him as though he’d paid her the nicest of compliments. Tate had seriously missed that look in the last year but didn’t want to dwell too much on the fact that he was soaking it up now. It wasn’t going to help him when she left if all he could do was remember what she looked like. What she felt like. How she smelled. He had to get this woman out of his head if he was going to survive alone for the rest of his life.

      Liberty straightened. “I’m good.”

      “Okay then.” Tate turned back around to face forward and set off again.

      * * *

      For the first time since she’d shown up at his house, Liberty had seen the man she’d fallen in love with. She hugged his middle again, and felt the prick of tears in her eyes. Everything good they’d ever had between them...she’d ruined it all when she gave him back his ring and said she’d realized it wasn’t going to work.

      Which was true. Considering what she’d learned, there was no way a relationship between them would’ve worked. There was just so much unsaid now. She’d seen the question in his eyes, the pain of their relationship being torn apart when there was nothing either of them could do about it.

      And nothing had changed since.

      They’d both found some semblance of peace. Liberty could hardly believe that their lives now were what God had wanted for them, but what else were they supposed to have done? This was what God had given them, and it simply didn’t work for them to share their lives.

      Liberty wanted to ask Tate if he’d moved on, if he’d found someone to care about, but she couldn’t voice the words out in the cold, dark night, silent except for the rumble of the snowmobile’s engine. She hoped he’d found someone else.

      Because she never could.

      Tate revved the engine. Liberty saw something out of the corner of her eye and glanced over. Her whole body solidified as she spotted a man dressed in dark clothes, a weapon pointed at them.

      “Gun!”

      Tate shot forward even faster as the man opened fire. They both ducked and the shots rang out, each one as loud as a firework.

      Blast after blast flashed in the dark, illuminating his position. His aim chased the snowmobile’s path as Tate flew across the terrain. Liberty pulled her own gun out and fired back two shots, but the ride was too bumpy. She would never be able to hit him. Still, she gripped Tate tighter with her other arm and both knees and tried not to fall off.

      Unless...

      The shots continued. Liberty shifted back and launched herself off the snowmobile. She landed on her back in a berm of snow and heard Tate yell. He gunned the snowmobile, then turned it in a wide arc, coming back for her.

      Liberty ran for the nearest tree so that at least there’d be some cover from the shots. While Tate raced back to her, she returned fire at the man who now sent bullets at both her and Tate in turn. Then he swung his arm back and fired at her.

      Liberty ducked and the bullet took out a chunk of bark. She raced for the next tree, moving closer to the man.

      The roar of the snowmobile engine raced up behind her. She glanced over, but Tate wasn’t coming for her. He drove the snowmobile past her, toward the man trying to kill them. What was he doing? His weapon was in the backpack on her back.

      Liberty shifted for a better position and fired to give him the cover he needed. Over and over. One shot managed to clip the gunman in the shoulder, and then Tate was in her line of fire and right on top of the man. He launched himself from the snowmobile and tackled the guy to the snow.

      The vehicle they’d been riding continued on, but the engine lost power fast and careened into a tree.

      Liberty raced over while they fought. The gun went off. She ducked and went to one knee. Tate had the man on the ground. He shifted, put his knee on the guy’s elbow and grabbed the weapon.

      Liberty relaxed one tiny notch.

      Gun at the ready, she made her way to them. “You good?”

      Tate didn’t look at her. The man on the ground was bleeding, but Tate hauled him to his feet. Liberty pulled out her phone.

      “Won’t get any signal out here.”

      “So what do we do with him then?”

      Tate shifted the man’s collar. “Same tattoo. Russian as well, I’m guessing. Maybe the first guy from my house. He’s wearing the right clothes.”

      The words weren’t directed at her, but the man didn’t answer. Didn’t say anything. His face was deadpan, with no expression. No movement whatsoever.

      “Guess we’re walking back to town,” Tate said. “We can turn him over to the sheriff, and Dane can get some answers.”

      That got a reaction.

      Liberty saw the slightest movement. “Tate—”

      But the man was already in motion. He launched himself at Tate.

      Liberty hardly had time to react, but she was a Secret Service agent.

      A shot went off.

      Liberty fired as well, her aim true, and the bullet hit the gunman square in the chest. Tate fell back and the man landed on top of him. He rolled the man so their attacker lay in the snow. Two choppy breaths later, he was dead.

      “Lib.”

      She stepped back, even though he hadn’t moved.

      Tate got to his feet. He stepped toward her, and she held out a hand, palm up. “We’re okay, Lib.”

      She shook her head. “The snowmobile is trashed and we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

      “We don’t have to walk back to town now. The mine isn’t far from here. Come on,” he coaxed. “It isn’t far, Lib.”

      “Don’t call me that.” She lifted her gaze and looked him square in the face. “Don’t ever call me that.”

      They weren’t a team. They would never be a team again, as good as it felt working together. Protecting each other. Taking down their assailant. Liberty had to let go of all her memories with him. Again. As much as it hurt, she had to walk away from Tate and let him live his life. Because one of them should have a future.

      And it wasn’t going to be her.

       FOUR

      Tate wanted to hold her hand. He also wanted to yell at her and get her to tell him why she’d jumped off the snowmobile. He’d nearly had a heart attack when he realized what she’d done. Yes, she was a Secret Service agent. He’d been one as well, and that stuff didn’t just disappear. He was wired to protect, and that meant Liberty along with everyone else. Feelings didn’t matter. Even