The nanny yanked a pair of scissors out from behind her back and plunged them into Smith’s leg. He swore. The gun fired, its bullet flew high into the sky.
Max dived into a front roll, feeling the heavy fabric of his uniform take the impact as his body hit the pavement. The woman slipped from Smith’s grasp and ran for the car.
Max charged, throwing himself at Smith and locking his own hands around the weapon before Smith could get off another shot. They wrestled for the gun, rolling on the ground, as Max battled to hold his own against a man twice his size. He heard the sound of a car seat carrier unclicking from its base, a car door slamming and footsteps in the trees. The baby’s cries faded into the distance.
The good news was it sounded like she’d got the baby safely out of the car. Bad news was it sounded like she was running.
The gun flew from Smith’s grasp. Max sprang to his feet, only for Smith to level a sucker punch to his jaw that filled his eyes with stars. Smith darted for his vehicle. Max stood frozen for a second, uncertain which direction to run. But even before he heard the unmarked police car’s door slam, he knew his answer. It wasn’t his job to stop criminals. It was his job to save the lives of anyone who needed him.
Max took off running through the woods, following the sound of the nanny’s footsteps and the baby’s angry wail. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the night around him. A woman and a baby alone in the woods, what did she think she was doing? Where did she think she was going?
Ahead of him he could hear her crashing through the trees. Behind him, the police car’s engine roared and then faded back along the highway. Smith was leaving.
“Hey! Wait! It’s okay!” Max called. “He’s gone! You’re safe!”
Then he could see her, dim in the moonlight, as she darted through the trees ahead of him with a bag on her shoulder and the baby in the car seat carrier clutched to her chest. He was gaining on her and so close that in another minute or two, he’d be able to touch her shoulder. She stopped, set the baby carrier down at her feet, spun back and raised the scissors.
“Stop! Right there!” she said. “Not another step! Or I’ll stab you! I’m not kidding. I will not let you hurt Fitz.”
“Oh, I totally believe you would stab me.” Max froze. “And while I have more than enough gauze and bandages in my jump bag to patch myself up again, I really don’t want to.”
The corner of her lips twitched. His hands rose higher as his eyes ran over the baby. To his relief, the child looked fine and more surprised than hurt or scared. Still, a visual examination wasn’t as accurate as a physical one would be.
“I promise, I only want to help, and Smith is gone,” he said. “However he got his hands on an undercover cop car, I really don’t believe he was an actual cop. You have nothing to fear now. It’s just us three.”
Cold March wind flickered between the trees. The baby whimpered softly. The woman reached down, tucked him deeper into the blankets and pulled the hood up over him. Where did she think she was going? The closest town was over an hour’s drive away. She had no wheels, no shelter, nothing.
Nothing but him.
“I’m just reaching for my flashlight, okay?” he said. “It’s on my belt. I just think this might go a bit easier if we can see each other better. All right?”
She nodded. He reached with one hand, clipped the light from his belt, switched it on and set it on the ground. A warm, yellow glow spread through the trees, casting the underbrush and branches in a maze of shifting shadows.
They both stepped forward into the light and his eyes scanned her slender frame. Her hair tumbled loose and wild around her shoulders. Her eyes were large, dark and luminous. Once again, the thought of British moors and royalty crossed his mind. It was like something out of one of those books his mother read, about beautiful and plucky countesses who escaped their captors, slipped from their prisons and ran with the royal heir.
Only, he was no fairytale hero. And whatever danger this woman was in that had her tearing through the woods and clutching a pair of scissors out in front of her like a weapon was all too real.
“I’m really not a criminal,” she said again. “I didn’t steal this baby and I didn’t kill anyone.”
“I hear you,” Max said. He even had a hunch she was telling the truth. But that didn’t mean he was about to let his guard down. He gestured to the badge on his shoulder. “I’m not a cop. Like I told you, I’m just a paramedic and I don’t have the power to arrest anyone. It’s my job to help people—even if they are criminals. I’m just like a doctor, only with a lot more time spent working in the rain and getting covered by mud.”
“Forgive me, but the fact you’re in a uniform and waving a badge around doesn’t immediately mean I’ll trust you,” she said. “I’ve met too many people like you who couldn’t figure out the real truth of a situation if someone had smacked them on the head with it.”
Something in the quiver of her chin told him there was a story there, and it wasn’t a good one. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll do my best to pay close attention to anything you hit me with.”
Was it his imagination or had that very slight smile curled a little more at the corner of her lips?
“Thanks,” she said. “I appreciate what you did back there. I really do. You probably saved our lives. But I don’t want your help and I don’t want you getting involved. Just tell me how to get to the next town and rent a car, and I’ll take it from there.”
He nodded slowly. “Why?” he asked.
“What do you mean why?” Her arms crossed and the scissors dropped to the ends of her fingertips. Okay, now they were getting somewhere. “I need a car, because the one I was driving is now wrapped around a tree.”
“I mean, why won’t you let me help you?” he asked. “It will take you hours to walk to the next town. It’s supposed to rain eventually, even though the weather guys seem a bit late on that one. You’re going to have a hard time finding anyone who’ll rent you a car for at least nine hours. And something tells me you’re not about to just hitchhike with some stranger.”
“You’re a stranger,” she said.
Max felt a grin spreading across his face. He had to admit, weird as this was, he almost liked her. Sure, she was aggravating, stubborn and still might stab him. But there was something impressive about her, too. She had gumption as his dad would call it.
“Good point,” he said. “Then let’s get acquainted. As I shouted earlier while running toward a gunman, my name is Max Henry. I’m a paramedic from Huntsville, Ontario. I have three brothers—two older and one younger—and no pets. Now, would you like me to toss you my wallet so you can check my ID?”
She smiled. “No, that’s okay. My name is Daisy. This is Fitz. Like I said before, I’m his nanny.”
He waited to see if she was going to tell him anything more. The wind picked up, sending trees dancing with a sound like brushes on a steel drum. She pressed her lips together and stared him down. Guess that was all the info he was getting for now.
“It’s nice to meet you, Daisy,” Max said. “Who’s Smith?”
Her slim shoulders rose and fell. “I don’t know his full name. He worked for Fitz’s dad until I’m guessing he double-crossed him. Fitz’s dad warned me not to let him or anyone else near the baby and to take Fitz to Sault Sainte Marie.”
Max whistled. “That’s a long drive. You said he killed Fitz’s mother?”
“Stepmother actually, but yeah,” she said. “His mother died in childbirth.”
Max felt an eyebrow rise. Dying in childbirth did happen, true, but it was very rare in Canada. Not to mention Fitz was less than a year old. Had Fitz’s parents split up when she was