Wilderness Pursuit

His mission: keep his ex-love safe

Discover the Mountie Brotherhood series

Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer Sam Thrace can’t believe the woman he’s rescued from certain death is Kara Park—his former sweetheart. Once brokenhearted, now he’s protecting the courageous archaeologist from someone out to sabotage her controversial pipeline findings. And as he and Kara escape into the remote Canadian wilds, neither is safe from their emerging feelings—or the threat to their lives.

MICHELLE KARL is an unabashed bibliophile and romantic suspense author. She lives in Canada with her husband and an assortment of critters, including a codependent cat and an opinionated parrot. When she’s not reading and consuming copious amounts of coffee, she writes the stories she’d like to find in her “to be read” pile. She also loves animals, world music and eating the last piece of cheesecake.

Also By Michelle Karl

Mountie Brotherhood Wilderness Pursuit

Fatal Freeze

Unknown Enemy

Outside the Law

Silent Night Threat

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Wilderness Pursuit

Michelle Karl

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08268-6

WILDERNESS PURSUIT

© 2018 Faith Boughan

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

Sam and Kara heard the very thing they’d feared, close, coming closer...

“You can get us out of this, Kara. I believe in you.” Sam’s smooth, mellow voice cut through her anxiety. Retrieving the trowel to cut the ropes binding them required controlled movements. “I haven’t always had the most faith in your plans, but you know what you’re doing.”

She might have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious. “I don’t, though. I’m really just making this all up as I go along.”

Another branch snapped. Kara jumped in alarm. The trowel flipped end over end, spinning away—right toward Sam’s outstretched legs.

“I’ve got it,” he said, but all trace of calm had disappeared from his voice. “We don’t have much time.”

Dear Reader,

I’m delighted and honored that you chose to spend your reading time with Kara and Sam. As a Canadian and an animal lover, I was happy to get the chance to write a story that showcased a small slice of the country’s incredible landscape and local wildlife—even if it wasn’t exactly the most enjoyable situation for my hero and heroine.

While the area of northern British Columbia in which I’ve set this story is real and the distances as accurate as possible, I’ve changed the names of the main towns for the sake of fiction—but yes, the RCMP serve in small, local detachments up in these somewhat isolated, rural locations. Fort Nelson is a real place, and the Liard/Fort Nelson River is a sight to behold. British Columbia has some of the most diverse ecosystems and breathtaking landscapes in Canada, especially up north!

Eagle-eyed readers will have noticed that Kara mentions Gwyn Ponth College several times in this story, and at one point talks about her lab getting shot to pieces at her previous job. Yes, Kara Park is the unnamed archaeologist in whose lab Ginny locks up the Amaran tablets in my book Unknown Enemy. Surprise!

I love hearing from readers. Connect with me at michellekarl.com or find me on Twitter, @_MichelleKarl_. Thank you so much for reading Wilderness Pursuit!

Blessings,

Michelle

The Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon him, to all that call upon him in truth.

—Psalms 145:18

For Kristen C, whose enthusiasm for this might have surpassed my own.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

Kara Park slammed her car door with more force than necessary, but she couldn’t help feeling annoyed. She wasn’t scheduled to come north for another week, but her study of the previous dig season’s archaeological finds had wrapped at the University of British Columbia earlier than she’d expected—early April instead of late in the month—and she’d thought it would be wise to get a head start on the next contract. When she’d called Gaida Industries and told them she’d landed at Northern Rockies Regional Airport, and that she planned to drive over to their proposed pipeline site outside of Fort Mason before heading into town, the foreman had tried to talk her out of it, claiming impending weather, possible bad road conditions and other nonsense. Yes, there was a typhoon on the way, but it was projected to make landfall in the southern half of the province. Fort Mason and the surrounding area were fairly deep inland and quite far north.

At least the foreman had finally agreed to come out and show her where the site was—not that she’d given him a choice. She had the coordinates and a battery-operated GPS unit.

She nodded at the stout, balding foreman as he parked his car next to hers and hurried over, frowning. His skin had the leathery look of long days spent doing hard labor outdoors. “Ms. Park, I must continue to insist that you come into the offices first. There’s paperwork to fill out, and you can rest from your trip up here.”

Kara patted the camera bag she’d slung over her shoulder. “Mike Helfer, is it?” The man nodded. “I’ve got all the relevant paperwork here plus copies of the dig permits for the pipeline’s proposed location. And I promise I’m fine. It wasn’t a long trip, and I’m used to work-related travel for archaeology jobs. I just want to take a few photos of the site so I can start thinking about how best to square off the area and divide up my team. It’ll cut down a lot of waiting-around time if I can get all or most of the prep done before the others arrive. The sooner my team completes the required archaeological work on the land, the sooner Gaida Industries can install the pipeline.”

Mike’s frown deepened, but he must have sensed her resolve because he waved her forward with a grunt. “Fine. But don’t blame me when we get rained on.”

She pointed toward the sky. “There’s not a single cloud in sight. Well, maybe one or two, but I highly doubt we’ll have anything to worry about save maybe a little shower overnight. Please, lead the way. I have the coordinates, but it’ll be easier if I focus on where we’re going so I can mark our trail.”

As the foreman led them into the forest, she staked small orange flags into the ground to help orient herself, and so that she’d be able to find her way in and out if she decided to come out to the site alone during the week. The wilderness of northern British Columbia was largely undeveloped and uninhabited, so cell phone service even a few clicks outside town was nonexistent. It wouldn’t do to get herself lost on her way to work the first time she headed out by herself. She’d have to make sure to charge the battery on her satellite phone tonight.

As she followed the foreman, Kara admired the unruly wilderness that would become her office for the next few weeks—or possibly longer—while she and her team conducted an archaeological survey of the protected land where the proposed pipeline would cut through. The Canadian government required intensive surveys done on any land where there was a possibility of archaeological remains, and since the vast region of northern British Columbia had been the traditional territory of First Nations people for the past ten thousand years, it would be a surprise not to find evidence of inhabitants at least someplace along the pipeline’s planned location—especially through this particular area outside Fort Mason.

She planted another little orange flag and stood to see Foreman Mike disappear around a tree. She hurried to catch up. The bright yellow reflective stripes on his orange coat ensured that he stood out among the foliage, though to Kara’s advantage, the forest wasn’t as densely packed as it would be once spring got fully under way. A project like the pipeline site needed as long of a dig season as possible, though, so as soon as the temperature stayed consistently above freezing—instead of this up and down the province had been experiencing in the weather lately—they could start working without risking the health and safety of her team.

She drew alongside the foreman as he stilled his footsteps at the edge of a moderately sized clearing—a patch of dirt and grass, really, ringed by trees. Kara stepped closer to the center and looked around. The forest was definitely sparser here, providing a natural laneway through the area that would require minimal disturbance of the existing landscape. The pipeline would extend all the way through this area and for kilometers on each side, but she had to start somewhere, and this had been the most logical spot based on land surveys and existing data about the region.

“Now you’ve seen it,” Mike said. “Anything else?”

“I want to snap a few quick shots, then we can be on our way.” She pulled out her camera and began to take photographs, changing her angles and position around the area so that nothing would be missed. “I really appreciate your taking the time to come out here unscheduled, by the way. The faster the job goes, the sooner your company can start building. That is, provided we don’t find anything that otherwise halts the—wait a minute.” She paused, seeing an out-of-place streak of white through the camera’s viewfinder. “It looks like...bone. I think that’s a phalange. But see how it’s just lying there? Something about this doesn’t look right.” She pulled the camera away from her face and studied the area with bare eyes. “In fact, none of it does. The whole site looks as though it’s already been disturbed, like someone has come through and hacked at the ground with a shovel—”

Pain exploded in the back of Kara’s skull, and she pitched forward. Her camera flew out of her hands and rolled across the ground, coming to rest next to a tree several meters away. She landed hard on her shoulder, palms and knees carving shallow trenches in the dirt as she skidded to a stop. Sparks danced in front of her eyes as she tried to cry out, but she couldn’t tell if the muffled sounds she heard came from her or someone else. What’s happening, Lord?

She curled her fingers in the dirt and squeezed her eyes shut. The foreman! She forced her eyes open and exhaled in relief—there were still white stars in her vision, but she could see through them. Unfortunately, what she saw was a person wearing a ski mask standing over the motionless body of the foreman. Instinct drove her to help while she still had breath to do so, but when she rose up on her forearms and reached for Mike, the masked person’s gaze snapped to hers and then to someplace behind her. Pain exploded in her side as she felt the tip of a boot collide with her kidney.

“Someone’s coming,” a male voice growled behind her. “Let’s get out of here.”

“But we haven’t—” said another.

“We’re done here, let’s go!”

Kara heard a deep snort that sounded an awful lot like...a horse? But why would there be a horse in the woods? She pressed her palm against her temple as the throbbing in her head intensified. Were these men trying to kill her and the foreman? Would they finish them off before disappearing?

The sound of pounding hooves grew louder and then diminished, along with the sounds of shouting. And then the woods grew quiet again, save for her heart hammering with adrenaline against her rib cage, the rustling of the leaves above her and the occasional birdcall.

“Mike?” she tried to inch her way across the disturbed earth. “Mike, are you all right?”

He groaned but didn’t move. A flood of fear spilled into her veins. The foreman needed medical attention immediately, and while she had some on-the-job first aid training—no self-respecting field archaeologist didn’t—she had no equipment or supplies to help him, and her satellite phone was in her vehicle. She’d planned to charge it tonight in town. Everything hurt, but what other option did she have but to push through and somehow get the foreman inside her car and into town? She needed to find the strength quickly, before their assailants returned. They might have been scared off by someone else, but for how long? And what if the person who’d scared them was even worse?

“Mike, don’t move,” she said, frustrated at the breathiness of her voice. It was hard to inhale, which meant she had to consider the possibility of broken ribs. “I’m going to—”

Footsteps thundered through the brush. Before she could react, thin black equine legs stopped several feet away.

“I suggest you take the same advice,” said a new, male voice. “Don’t move.”

The voice tugged at a thread of memory, but her head and body ached too much to remember. She stopped moving anyway, in case the new arrival was a worse alternative to the people who’d attacked her and Mike. Lord, protect us. “I’m hurt and unarmed, and this man needs medical assistance. We’re no threat to you.”

She heard a sharp exhale as the visitor slid from his saddle. “Sam Thrace, RCMP. I’m no threat to you either, ma’am.”

Her stomach lurched. Sam Thrace? That Sam Thrace? The boy she’d dated in high school? She managed to peer at him from the corner of her eye, jaw nearly dropping at the sight of the insignia patches on his grayish-blue jacket and black vest. Royal Canadian Mounted Police? Had she entered some kind of alternate dimension?

She took a deep, shaky breath and turned her face to him. “Hey, Sam.”

* * *

Sam froze in place. He’d thought that voice sounded familiar, but it had been a long time since he’d heard Kara Park’s low, stern tones on the other end of a phone line. Even longer since they’d spoken in person. Eighteen years, in fact. A full half of his lifetime. What was she doing out here in the wilds of northern BC?

He’d ask later. Right now he had a job to do, potential assailants to watch out for and an injured man to transport back to town for medical assistance. He nodded at Kara once and offered his hand. She didn’t take it, instead choosing to stand on her own, one hand rubbing the back of her head.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She tried to shake her head but winced. “Not particularly. It hurt to breathe for a few minutes, but it’s getting easier. Do you have a satellite phone or a cell that gets reception out here? Foreman Helfer needs a doctor.” As if on cue, the foreman groaned and shifted, trying to raise himself up on his elbows. Sam shot to the man’s side, but Kara had the same idea. They bumped heads as they both crouched, rocking back on their heels.

“Sorry,” Sam muttered. “Maybe you should let me have a look, okay? You might need medical assistance, too.”

She raised both her hands in surrender. “Fine by me.”

“Sir?” He spoke loudly as the foreman coughed and tucked in his knees, attempting to sit up. Sam didn’t see any visible exterior wounds or bleeding, but that didn’t mean the man wasn’t badly hurt. However, it would take some time to get emergency services out here into the woods, so if there was any safe way for the man to get back to the vehicle that brought him here, it would be a faster process. “Can you tell me your name?”

The foreman nodded as he rose to his knees—then promptly wobbled and tipped sideways, taking a shaky breath. “What happened? I’m... I’m Mike. My chest hurts.”

“One of those guys kicked me in the side,” Kara said. “I didn’t see it happen, but they might have done the same to him. He could have broken ribs, a punctured lung...”

Sam pulled his satellite phone out of his belt. Guess they’d need emergency services out in the woods after all.

“Don’t bother,” Kara said. “I’ll drive him back. It’ll be faster.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re hurt, too.”

“I told you, I’m feeling better already. I played hockey in high school. Don’t you remember how excited my dad was when I joined the team? Hockey wasn’t popular in Korea until long after my parents immigrated to Canada, but he fell in love with the game during the 1976 Stanley Cup Finals when the Montreal Canadians swept the Philadelphia Flyers four games to none. My dad came to every single one of my games and practices, and built me that little rink in the backyard. I still know how to take a hit, thanks to that.”

“Without gear or a helmet?”

“Okay, well, no. But I can work through pain. I’m all right, Sam. Honest. I’ll get checked out back in town if you insist, but I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t think it was safe. You know it’ll be faster for me to drive him in.”

Sam didn’t like it, but he couldn’t deny that the longer they sat around talking, the worse it could get for the injured man. “Fine. I’ll carry him back to the car for you.”

“You’ll do no such thing.”

“You can’t—”

“How well did telling me what I can’t do work out for us before? I’ll take him. You go after the bad guys and find my camera. I dropped it when they hit me.”

She had a point. Telling Kara what to do had never gotten him anywhere, save pushing her away and ending their relationship. But it had been her decision to go to school thousands of kilometers away, so their breakup hadn’t all been his fault. Could she really blame him for asking her to stay in the province, or even the country, after high school? He’d loved her. She’d said it back to him, so he’d thought she felt the same way. Apparently they’d both been wrong.

He stood and scanned the ground for her camera. He saw no point in running through the woods after those goons—they could have gone anywhere, and the forest was both vast and filled with dangers. He’d take a look around the site for hints or clues to their identity, but it was never wise to run after someone in the undeveloped wilderness all alone, especially with twilight rolling in and a possible storm coming off the coast tonight. The weather reports had been shifting back and forth all day, but as of an hour ago before he saddled up Brenik, the forecast had swung in favor of the winds shifting and bringing the storm inland.

“Did you find it? I’m heading to my car.”

He turned to see Kara with the foreman in her arms. She seemed to be having no trouble hoisting the weight of a full-grown man. What on earth did she do for a living that would bring her out here, anyway?

“I don’t see it,” he said. “Sorry. We can come out tomorrow and have another look around, if you like. We can also file a report and order a new one in, but it won’t get here for a few days. Did you bring a cell phone you can take pictures with?”

Kara’s features softened and fell, her hard edge replaced with mild despair. “What do you mean, it’s not there? Did those guys take it? Well, that’s great. And I don’t suppose you see any small pieces of bone near your feet?”

He shook his head. “No, but that’s a good thing, right?”

Her expression darkened. “It’s not good at all. When I got here, I thought I saw a piece of bone, and it didn’t belong to an animal.”

That was unexpected. “How can you know that?”

“I’m a trained archaeologist, Sam. And finding human remains here means that this is a burial site, which means a lot of other things we can discuss once this man gets help. But if my camera was stolen...let’s just say those guys seemed willing to kill us to get it. Whoever that burial belongs to? Someone doesn’t want me to find it.”

TWO

Kara thundered through the forest toward her and Mike’s cars. Her camera, gone? She was even more convinced that she hadn’t been seeing things. The site had definitely been disturbed—quickly and messily—and that had been a human bone in the dirt. The laying of new pipelines was almost always rife with controversy in Canada, especially when a great deal of land was once traditional First Nations territory, with some areas still claimed by First Nations people. As a result, it was often inevitable that a government-mandated archaeological survey—a requirement before a company could start digging—would turn up First Nations artifacts or ancient burial sites.

The artifacts were manageable. They would be sent first to a research lab and then eventually to either a museum or be returned to their people of origin. Finding a burial, on the other hand, was a whole other situation that could require weeks, months or even years of delays for a construction project. There were further studies to be done, forms to be filled out, relatives to be contacted and specific cultural ceremonies to be conducted. Regardless of how ancient or recent the burial, respect for the deceased and their relatives always came first, but that didn’t mean that everyone was happy to allow companies to dig up the land. If someone wanted her camera—which now held visual proof that the site contained a possible burial—it likely meant that Gaida Industries already had protestors working to stop the dig. It was a tricky situation, because while finding bones would mean stopping the pipeline’s construction for a brief time, it wouldn’t otherwise stop archaeologists from coming in to dig up the land. But protesters usually set up camp next to the area where they were making a land claim—they didn’t just grab evidence or disturb the land and disappear.