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Or maybe it was her heart she was choking on, because it was sure as hell trying to jump out of her chest. She spun around, saw the copter lifting into the air at the other end of her valley.
    Tag grabbed her by the wrist, but before he could decide which direction to manhandle her in, the helicopter zoomed off, heading away from the cabin. Alex was relieved—until she heard the growling whine of snowmobile motors. Her mouth was still open, but Tag found his voice first.
    "Apparently that thing was carrying more than firebombs."



Chapter Four
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    "DAMN," ALEX SAID TO TAG, HER EYES ON THE snowmobiles. "What did you do to tick them off? Besides being you?"
    "That seems to be enough in this part of the world."
    "You really think geography is the problem?"
    "I'd love to stand here and debate my downturn in luck since I crossed the Mississippi," Tag said, "but you'd have to have an open mind first."
    "You blow into my life and ruin it, and you can stand there and accuse me of being overly suspicious?"
    "What do you want, another apology?"
    "Yes, but it would be insincere, so I'll settle for having my rifle back."
    He handed it over, no argument. That seemed odd until Alex cracked it open and saw that the barrels were empty. She held her hand out, but no shells magically appeared on her palm. "Well?" she said to Tag.
    He met her gaze, glanced in the general direction of the snowmobiles, then back at her, clearly debating. "How do I know you won't shoot me?" he wanted to know.
    "You don't, but I can promise you won't be my first choice." Still no shells. "They're gonna be here in like two minutes. An immediate decision would be good."
    Tag didn't come to one so she stiff-armed the Wincheshitting him across the chest with it.
    "Oomph," he said, rubbing his ribs. "That hurt."
    The look on his face probably matched the irritation in his voice, but Alex didn't stick around to see it. She took a deep breath and held it, heading back into the cabin while it was only filled with smoke. "Bruised ribs you can live with," she said when she came back out, "it's the bullet holes that'll kill you."
    She loaded the gun in her hand, sighted down the barrel at the guy on the nearest snowmobile, and shot. In the light from the growing fire she saw him jerk. Another ten seconds and he slumped over the controls. His snowmobile took a sharp left and the other sled crashed into it. Neither of the drivers got up.
    "Jesus," Tag said, sounding a little shell-shocked.
    "He's not dead." Alex held up her hand, showing him what she held. "Tranquilizer gun."
    Tag blew out a breath, ran a hand through his hair.
    "Why are you so relieved?" Alex demanded. "And why didn't you shoot at them?"
    "I shot at the helicopter."
    "But you didn't do it any damage, so you're either a really bad shot or you weren't trying very hard." She walked over to where Jackass had been waiting patiently and picked up his reins. "In light of recent developments, I'm leaning toward Door Number Two. What I don't know is why you're reluctant to shoot at the guys who tried to kill you. Three times."
    "Maybe I didn't want to explain a couple of dead bodies."
    She gave him a long, level look. "You seem to have an aversion to explaining things. It's irritating."
    "You're driving me crazy, too," Tag muttered.
    "Then my work here is done." But it wasn't. Alex looked back at the cabin, at four years of her life going up in flames, and got good and ticked off.
    "We should get moving," Tag said. "One of those guys is going to be out for…"
    "At least four hours," Alex supplied.
    "I don't know if the other guy is hurt. If he's not, we can only hope he's less interested in coming after us than he is in keeping his friend from freezing to death by bringing him to warm up at this nice, convenient fire."
    She rounded on him. Even if she'd been able to express what she was feeling, words were unnecessary.
    "We need to take advantage of the head start," Tag said. "I'm sorry,