Snowbound - Harlequin.com

JANICE KAY JOHNSON 123
“Deep as this is, we just need to trample paths. Let’s
get a good one to the woodpile around the corner first.”
They started, half working, half roughhousing. Fiona
stood beside John near the foot of the porch steps. She
was the only one close to him when two things happened
almost at once.
The roughhousing reached a peak, with one of the
boys falling to one side and another of them swinging
around and taking a step as if he was going to run back
toward John and Fiona. At the same time, there was a
loud crack.
Not the whine of an incoming artillery shell. Damn,
somehow a sniper had gotten a range on them. They
were on base and he didn’t even have his weapon. John
saw blood spurting as the running man took another step
and then in seeming slow motion toppled. “Get down!”
John bellowed at the one standing soldier, then turned,
grabbed Fiona and threw her into the soft snow, going
after her to shield her with his body.
She struggled under him. He held her down, listening
for the next crack of the sniper’s rifle. Where was
he? In the stand of trees?
A thud sounded like far-off bombing.
“What are you doing?” she spat.
“Ms. Mac got tackled!” someone called gleefully.
He’d never seen snow in Iraq. Why were they in a
snowdrift, waiting for the deadly fire of a Russian AK­
47 to find them? Body rigid, he tried to think.
One second, they were under fire from insurgents.
The next, he lay atop a furious, frightened woman in the
snow outside the lodge.