The Rescuer

“Dammit, Colin. I feel like I’m unraveling. And I hate it.”ABOUT THE AUTHORTitle PageCHAPTER ONECHAPTER TWOCHAPTER THREECHAPTER FOURCHAPTER FIVECHAPTER SIXCHAPTER SEVENCHAPTER EIGHTCHAPTER NINECHAPTER TENCHAPTER ELEVENCHAPTER TWELVECHAPTER THIRTEENCHAPTER FOURTEENCHAPTER FIFTEENCHAPTER SIXTEENCHAPTER SEVENTEENCHAPTER EIGHTEENCopyright

“Dammit, Colin. I feel like I’m unraveling. And I hate it.”

Colin had no more suggestions to make. So he went to her and took her in his arms instead.

She stood rigidly in his embrace. It occurred to him that he’d never known a woman as complex as Alex, as difficult to reach. She was fighting so many battles. She had to be exhausted trying to do it all on her own.

“Alex...let somebody help now and then. Maybe even somebody like me.”

“What can you do for me, Colin?” she whispered against his chest. “How can you help me?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Maybe just by being around.”

“That’s not the kind of rescue you’re accustomed to. And I keep telling you...I don’t want to be rescued.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The Rescuer is the twentieth published book by Ellen James. Ellen won a national short-story contest when she was in high school, and ever since then, wanted to be a writer. She’s certainly succeeded! Ellen’s interesting premises, fresh, charming style and appealing characters have made her popular with readers the world over. Bestselling author Debbie Macomber says, “I love Ellen James’s stories! Her wit sparkles and her full-speed-ahead heroines are sure to capture your heart—as they do mine.”

Ellen lives in New Mexico with her husband, also a writer. They share an interest in wildlife photography and American history.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

ANOTHER DAY OF SOBRIETY.

Colin McIntyre slid into his usual booth at Maggie’s Diner. Less than a week back in his hometown, and already he’d fallen into the old routine. Sobriety, Idaho, was that kind of town. No wonder he’d left—and no wonder he kept asking himself why he’d returned.

Denise brought his coffee without having to be asked—straight black, no cream, no sugar.

“Pancake special this morning,” she said.

“Fine,” Colin told her.

She walked away, slapping a towel at the crumbs on the next table. Colin drank his coffee and looked out the window. A few summer tourists wandered along the street, pausing now and then at the redbrick storefronts. In the distance rose the mountains of the Idaho Panhandle, blanketed thickly with pine. Admittedly the view was majestic—but the whole time Colin was growing up he’d wanted to get beyond those mountains. He’d been restless. Unfortunately, when he’d finally left town at eighteen, the restlessness had followed him. It followed him still.

Now a woman came along the sidewalk, and stopped to peer up at the diner’s sign. Then she opened the door, entered and glanced around.

She was very pretty, with dark blond hair falling past her shoulders, brown eyes, curves just where they should be. She wore jeans and an elegant business jacket. He liked the combination. It made her look... unpredictable.

Her gaze settled on him, and a mixture of emotions crossed her face. Wariness, reluctance... maybe even resentment? Her hand tightened on her purse and she half turned toward the door, as though to leave. He couldn’t help being intrigued when she turned slowly back and stepped toward him. She seemed about to speak. But then she changed her mind and sat down in the next booth over. Denise drifted out of the kitchen and took her order: tea and the pancake special.

The woman brought a book out of her purse and started to read. Colin sipped his coffee and watched. She was making too much of an effort to appear engrossed, purposely turning one page, then another. At last she glanced up at him. Now her eyebrows drew together, as if something about him puzzled her. She’d captured his curiosity.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi,” she answered, her tone a bit strained.

He could see the book was a mystery—the cover had a stylized dead body sprawled below the tide. She followed the direction of his gaze and selfconsciously slipped the book into her purse once more.

“Don’t worry on my account,” he said. “I like mysteries, too.”

She almost smiled. “I picked it up at the drugstore last night, and I can’t put it down. It’s not how I expected to spend my time in...Sobriety.” She said the name doubtfully.

“A local joke that stuck,” Colin told her. “Story goes that during the silver rush in the 1870s we had thirteen saloons but only one hotel. Kept the miners happy.”

She regarded him thoughtfully. “You sound like a native of this town.”

He hadn’t meant to sound that way. He’d moved away from Sobriety all those years ago, and he wasn’t exactly back by choice.

“Let’s just say I grew up here. Care to join me?” he asked.

She seemed to think it over. Finally giving a toocareless shrug, she went and slid into the seat opposite him.

“Colin McIntyre.”

“Alex Robbins.” They shook hands briefly.

Denise brought both orders of pancakes, doing only a slight double take when she saw Colin and the woman sitting together. She did, however, give him a meaningful stare as she put the plates before them. He’d known Denise ever since she was a kid tagging after her brother, one of Colin’s high school friends.