Liam's Anchor (Royal Pines #3) - Donna Michaels

Chapter One

During Liam Jennings’ thirty-nine years on Earth, he’d discovered—both personally and professionally—there was a connection between arrogance and stupidity. He held little tolerance for either. Especially when it came to hiking on the private property of a dude ranch when you were not a guest. Not only was it dangerous, stupid, and arrogant, it was also a criminal offense. “No Trespassing” signs were clearly posted all over the place.

And the guy was no guest.

Liam would bank on it. He knew the twins who owned the land, and they only allowed guests to hike in groups—and only when accompanied by a guide. The Brennan brothers were former military. No way would they permit their guides to allow someone to wander away. Besides, on the off chance it did happen, one or both of the brothers would be alerted—and they’d hunt the guest down. It was ingrained in them.

Of this, Liam was certain.

Granted, Liam wasn’t a guest either, but he did have full access to the property for nearly another two months. The Royal Pines dude ranch was his job site and temporary home, and today, for the first time since arriving ten weeks ago, he’d gone for a hike.

With unseasonably warm temperatures for early November in southeastern Colorado, the snow had yet to fall. Liam had taken advantage of the opportunity the owners had afforded him due to his former SEAL status, to explore the property without a guide.

Unlike the idiot he’d just rescued, though, Liam hadn’t entered the wilderness alone. Trident had accompanied him. The retired military working dog had needed to burn off energy. It was a good thing, too, since it was the Belgian Malinois who’d alerted Liam to the injured hiker trapped in a gully.

That was seven hours ago.

It felt like forty.

Descending the hillside and splinting the guy’s broken ankle had been the easy part, despite the fact Liam had been shaking and sweating because the action had resurrected old memories.

Dark memories.

The good news was he’d had his phone out while assessing Peter the hiker’s injuries. Bad news was Peter the hiker panicked when the small ridge beneath them started to give way and he knocked the phone from Liam’s hand…before Liam had alerted search and rescue.

Using Peter’s cell was a no go, too. Apparently, the idiot had left his phone at home on the charger because he wanted to “rough it like a real man.”

Throughout life, Liam had met all types of men—soldiers, insurgents, demons, butchers, heroes, chaplains, ministers…but he had to admit, Peter was unique.

Aptly named, the guy really was a dick.

Returning to the trail where Trident stood watch had sucked. The first attempt had resulted with Liam sliding back down, thanks to the flailing idiot on his back.

Christ, he was lucky he’d caught a damn foothold.

Luckily, the second attempt to climb the side of the gully had worked. Pushing through the pain of his newly acquired injuries—and the unwanted images of déjà vu from past missions—Liam had bulldozed his way back to the top. No way in hell would he kick the bucket with Dick the asshole.

He hadn’t survived seventeen years in the Navy, fifteen as a SEAL, to die from a broken neck at the bottom of a gully next to a damn hiker who possessed more ego than brains and an unhealthy disregard for rules.

Hell, no. Not when he should’ve died four years ago with his men.

Rejected by the reaper again.

Apparently, today was Peter’s lucky day, because among the water bottles in the backpack Trident carried to add weight to his workout, Liam always stored a backup phone, too.

Alerting search and rescue, he gave them a quick SITREP and immediately vetoed the need for a helicopter. They were accessible by foot. Besides, the sound would trigger a flood of memories best left behind the invisible dam in his head. It was bad enough when some of them managed to trickle through.

So, no chopper meant hoofing it.

Wasting no time, Liam hoisted Peter onto his back and shoulders, deeming the sharp stabbing that shot through his wounds well worth the pain to rid himself of the guy ASAP.

The sooner the better.

Five minutes later, after listening to the dick whine the whole time, Liam wished he hadn’t been so hasty in refusing the chopper.

This day just keeps getting worse.

He should’ve stayed in his cabin and cleaned his tools.

Tuning the idiot out, Liam trudged down the mountain, allowing Trident to lead the way in the direction S&R had calculated was the closest.

Within ten minutes, they rendezvoused