by H. L. Wegley
Gemma’s face hit flashpoint. Her cheeks burned. Why would Lex say something like that? She looked away, out the passenger-side window.
Lex seemed to enjoy teasing. And he’d grinned when he did that. But there had been no grin this time. He seemed dead serious and he wanted her to know it.
So what do you plan to do about that, Gemma Saint?
She hadn't a clue. And the question might be moot, because Gemma Saint might not be alive at the end of this day.
Chapter 7
Lex pulled out onto Rim Road headed for Terrebonne.
He had embarrassed Gemma. He had said more than he intended to say, but not even half of what he felt. Should he even be having such thoughts and feelings about someone he’d only known for a couple of hours?
Probably not, but he had a reason. Gemma was a damsel in distress, and he was the knight coming to save her. That was the fairytale version of the story and maybe it was part of the attraction.
In reality, he was likely the best suited person on the planet to end the danger to her by breaking her story, along with all of its supporting facts. But was he the best man to keep her alive until that time? The answer to that question haunted him.
Lex glanced at her long, dark hair.
Her large brown eyes responded by looking at him.
“Gemma, are you Italian?”
“How’d you—are you from Jersey?”
“No. But despite the Texas drawl, your name and … uh, features are rather Italian.”
“I’m half Italian. My mom’s folks came from Italy. I was born in New Jersey. Dad taught at Princeton, until we moved to Texas. But, after twelve years in Texas, people down there think mom’s Hispanic. Some think I am too.”
“Where is ‘down there’?”
“College Station, home of the Fightin’ Texas Aggies.”
“Is that where you went to school?”
“Well, I sure didn’t go back to Princeton. Dad didn’t—that’s probably more than you wanted to know. Now that you know all about me, what about Lex James?”
All about Gemma Saint. He hoped he’d get that chance. “Lex James … he’s a boring guy.”
“Lighting up the media across America, upsetting the political applecart, guardian to genius twins—y’all … uh, you guys are anything but boring.
“You don’t need to forget Texas on my account.”
“No. I need … uh, needed to do that on my account. So nobody could connect me to my former life.” She gave him a warm smile. “Y’all gonna tell me about Lex James, or not? Where did you go to school?”
“Washington State. Studied journalism and media production on a swimming scholarship. Do you swim?”
“I can stay afloat. Does that qualify?”
“Yeah. If you can actually move through the water.”
Gemma gave him that irresistible smile that lit up her face and everything around her.
The talking stopped and it grew quiet in the car.
They rounded a turn and Lex slowed the SUV as they approached the intersection with Chinook Drive.
A black van sat at the stop sign. It hadn't moved since it came into view ten or fifteen seconds ago.
A tingling sensation ran up the back of Lex's neck. He needed to lose that van.
“Gemma, the black van could be trouble. Look for any sign of—”
The van pulled forward, then stopped, blocking southbound Chinook Drive at the T in front of them.
Vince steered into the left lane. “Hang on, Gemma.”
He yanked the wheel hard left and turned onto Chinook Drive, northbound.
“Two men got out. Lex, they have guns!”
Lex mashed the accelerator to the floor and used his right hand to shove Gemma’s head down to the seat.
The tat, tat, tat of automatic weapon fire sounded.
The rear window of Lex's SUV exploded.
Glass particles pelted the interior.
“Stay down, Gemma.” He had to pull his right hand from her head to steer.
His SUV fishtailed down the road as the powerful engine spun the squealing tires.
The shooting stopped.
Lex glanced in the rearview mirror.
The men were gone, but the van had backed up, preparing to turn their way.
Gemma sat up in her seat. “It's them.” Her words came out in a hoarse whisper, barely audible above the roaring engine. “I'll watch them, Lex. You just lose them.”
Lex accelerated to triple the speed limit as they rocketed past the entrance to the Crooked River Ranch Golf Course. “Lose them? That's going to be a problem.”
“What do you mean? Your SUV seems to have a lot of power.”
“It does. But the direction we're headed—in about three miles the road dead ends at Otter Bench Trail.”
“Isn't there any other road we can turn onto?” Desperation had crept into Gemma's voice.
He had never heard it before, and it ripped through his heart like a dull knife. “The only road turns back the other way in a hairpin turn. If I slowed to take it, we’d be doubling back alongside them.”
“What’s at that Otter Bench place?”
“That depends.” Lex shoved the accelerator to the floor as he entered a straight stretch, then he glanced at those sleek but athletic-looking legs beside him. “Did you run track in high school?”
“No. Cross country.”
“That's even better. What kind of shape are you in?” Lex looked her way, then shook his head and mumbled, “Stupid question.”
Gemma shot him a sharp glance. “You need to keep your head in the game, Lex.”
“That was supposed to be my line.”
“I can run, if that's what you meant.”
“Hold on.” Lex braked hard, then accelerated out of the turn. “We're opening up a little lead. Our only chance is to get at least a quarter mile ahead of them, stop at the trail head, and run down the trail. We'll have a big lead, but we've got to maintain it or …”
“Yeah, or … But Lex, it's almost noon and it’s probably ninety-five degrees out there, headed for one hundred.”
“That's why I asked if you were in good shape.”
“That's not quite how you put it.”
“Listen, Gemma, these guys are cops, FBI. They'll be in pretty good shape, But I'd bet my life they can't run five miles in this heat and catch us if we have a quarter-mile lead. Are you willing to bet yours?”
Gemma’s hand clamped onto his shoulder and squeezed. Her strength surprised him.
Lex looked at her, trying to see the source of that strength.
An intensity burned in Gemma’s brown eyes that he'd never seen before.
She nodded. “I can do this, Lex. How about you?”
He dipped his head, then studied the road. “As long as neither of us sprains an ankle or something, we’re good to go.”
Gemma squeezed his shoulder again. “You said we had to run five miles. What’s five miles down the trail?”
Lex cleared his throat. “Uh …”
“Well?”
“Lake Billy Chinook.”
“Lex, I told you about me and water. I get—”
“Gemma, let me worry about the lake. You just get ready to run.”
Chapter 8
Lex pushed the gas pedal to the floor and flew down the dirt road at an insane speed.
“Get ready. We’re coming to the loop at the trail head.” He tapped the brakes. “When I stop, push open your door and run hard down the trail. It’s level and smooth for the first half mile or so.”
“My purse is here. Should I bring—”
“Don’t bring anything that slows you down.”
She shoved her purse under the seat. “But, Lex, the land is flat here. Can’t they just keep driving and run us down?”
“No vehicles are allowed on the trail. They’ve fenced it off with big rocks and a steel gate. Only people and bicycles can get through.”
He circled a small cluster of juni
per trees and stomped on the brake pedal.
The SUV slid sideways and stopped in a swirling cloud of gray-brown dust. The passenger-side door ended up even with the gate.
By the time Lex got out and circled his vehicle, Gemma was flying down the trail at an incredible rate.
Dude, she can run!
For once Lex agreed with the obnoxious voice inside. But, the question was, would Lex catch her or collapse first? On the positive side, if Lex couldn’t catch her, neither could the gunmen.
The dusty trail ran nearly straight for a quarter mile through a desert of sparse, dry bunch grass dotted with juniper trees. Beyond that it appeared to veer to the right.
If they could keep enough trees between them and their pursuers, there should be no more shooting, and the guys chasing them wouldn’t see it when they veered off onto the Pink Trail in about two more miles.
Lex usually ran, or performed other workouts, three or four times a week. It had been more before he got the twins. However, sprinting was never part of his workout.
He gradually coaxed his legs up to a full sprint, hoping the hundred-degree temperature would prevent him from pulling any muscles.
A hundred yards down the trail, breathing like a snorting racehorse in the final stretch, Lex opened up his stride. He pumped hard with his arms.
But Gemma’s flawless running style, smooth and effortless looking, was running him into the ground.
He had gained only a few yards on her.
To get away safely, they needed to be together, communicating.
Lex reached deeper and found a little more energy and speed.
His heart thumped against his sternum like a ball-peen hammer, but he had gained on Gemma.
They were over a quarter mile down the trail when Lex looked back at the trailhead, just before the juniper trees blocked his view of it.
Their pursuers van slid to a stop.
Three men jumped from the van.
A bend in the trail took the van out of Lex’s view.
The men would follow. Of that he was sure.
Now, the trail veered toward the canyon.
Soon, four hundred feet below them, a blue ribbon of water came into view, meandering through the canyon, Crooked River.
Lex’s shirt grew damp. That was an understatement. He could wring water out of it. Sweat poured off his forehead. In these temperatures, if they couldn’t find drinking water soon, dehydration could become a life-threatening problem.
Now, twenty yards behind Gemma, Lex was eating the dust her flying feet kicked up.
With his lungs burning and his legs feeling like they had been manufactured by Goodyear, Lex reached Gemma’s side. “Slow … it down … a bit.”
Gemma slowed, but not enough.
Lex glanced back down the trail.
In the far distance, a lone figure ran their way.
Lex ran another hundred yards, then turned and looked back again, before the juniper trees cut off his view.
The runner seemed to be slowing.
They could do this. He and Gemma could run these guys into the ground and get away … for now. That confidence sent endorphins and adrenaline surging through Lex’s body.
He sped up and moved to Gemma’s side. “I … think they’re … giving up.”
She looked his way. “They won’t … do that. Not permanently.” Heavy breaths chopped apart her words.
If Gemma could keep up this pace in temperatures approaching one-hundred degrees, the men in the van would probably give up the chase and try to catch Lex and Gemma later, after they left this desolate area.
For now, Lex’s job was to keep the bad dudes guessing and offer no clues as to where he and Gemma might emerge.
Lex had no clue where that would be. Nor did he know how he would get the water they needed to survive. He knew of one location downriver with drinkable water, but how could they reach it without being caught, or dehydrating?
Then there was the question of sniper rifles. If these dudes had one, and if they followed far enough, they could pick off Gemma and him when Pink Trail doubled back to the south where it descended into the gorge.
Despite leaving the gunmen in the dust, he and Gemma were still in deep water.
The trail now skirted the edge of the canyon. With sweat pouring off Lex’s forehead and stinging his eyes, the water of the Crooked River, four hundred feet below, looked inviting.
Gemma’s gaze seemed to be following the river too. She glanced back at him, “Lex … we’re going to need water soon … can we drink from the river?”
“Just keep running, Gemma. We’ve got to make it to the river … before we think about drinking from it.”
“Speak … for yourself … it’s all I can think about … water.”
“Then think about this … if they have sniper rifles … they can kill us from a thousand yards.”
“Just tell me I can drink from the river … and I’ll get us there more than a thousand yards ahead of them.”
“Gemma … that river flows over a hundred miles through the desert … and some farmland … probably full of little parasites … the kind that make you puke and the other stuff too … it would force us to go for medical help.”
“How far to … that Pink Trail?”
“Almost there and … we get to slow down.”
“Why?”
“Steep.”
“Look at that canyon … it’s a four-hundred-foot vertical drop … is this trail … climbing-gear steep?”
“No. Steep as in we won’t be running … so we need to keep our lead. And Gem you need …”
“Don’t do that, Lex!” She shot him a sharp glance.
“Don’t do what?”
“Shorten my name to Gem … sounds like a guy’s name. … I hate that.”
“Not to worry … from back here nobody’s going to mistake you for a guy.”
“Great! … We’re being chased by gunmen … and all you can think about is—”
“Well, it’s better than thinking about bullets.”
She didn’t reply.
They’d almost run by the Pink Trail. “Go right, Gemma. And slow down … time to become mountain goats … we can’t afford a fall.”
She didn’t slow down. Gemma plunged over the break and ran down the Pink Trail.
“Come on, Gemma! Slow down!”
“Can’t. Look below … trail doubles back … we’ll be running back toward them and those sniper rifles … they’ll shoot us from the rim.” Gemma slowed, but still ran faster than a jog.
This pace was easier, and they were running downhill. Lex was catching his breath but running on rubbery legs.
He hadn’t seen any signs of their pursuers for the last half mile. “Gemma … know what I think?”
Gemma slowed as the trail grew rockier. She glanced back at him. “You already told me what you think, Lech.”
“You mean Lex.”
“Not after what you said. This is the last time I let you run behind me.”
“Let’s just hope it’s not the last time we run, period.”
Gemma’s foot came down on a patch of pebbles. Her foot slid, throwing her off balance, headed for a rear-end landing.
Lex drew a sharp breath when he saw the cliff on the right, a one-hundred-foot drop to a rocky bench below.
Gemma’s body tilted toward the cliff as she fell.
He lurched forward and scooped her upper body before it hit the ground.
Lex pulled her against his chest and leaned backward digging his heels into the gravel and dirt of the trail. He stumbled to his right. Somehow, he managed to bring them both to a stop … five feet from the drop-off.
He’d prevented a nasty fall, maybe a deadly one if they had lost their balance and fallen to their right. But, in his panic to stop her fall, Lex had grabbed Gemma in a way that, under most circumstances, would be highly inappropriate.
He quickly moved his hands under her arms and lifted her to standing position, whi
le the cloud of dust they had generated swirled around them and then flew off to the south with the growing breeze.
Lex managed to catch his breath. “Are you okay?”
Gemma turned to face him.
He held her shoulders and studied her face.
The weird look in her eyes quickly morphed to Gemma’s intense, data-gathering look. Her gaze met his. “I’m okay … Lech.”
Lex’s face heated several degrees beyond what their nearly two-mile run in one-hundred-degree temperature could produce. “I didn’t mean to, you know … I was only trying to—”
“I forgive you, Lech.” One corner of her mouth edged upward. Then Gemma turned to resume their run.
She froze. Her eyes locked on the cliff that had snuck up on them hardly five feet away. She gasped, leaned back into Lex, and her breathing turned to panting.
He wrapped her up in his arms and held her. “You’re safe. But you need to be more careful. And I think our gunmen have stopped chasing us, for now. You helped me outrun them.”
After several seconds, Gemma’s breathing returned to normal, but she continued leaning against him. She relaxed and laid the back of her head on his shoulder.
They both dripped with perspiration.
Lex could probably wring it out of his shirt.
Wet tresses of hair stuck to her forehead.
But Gemma’s face lay on his shoulder for the first time only inches away.
Sweat he could deal with. So the question became should he or should he not?
Gemma didn’t seem in a hurry to move. Was that an invitation? Surely not with gunmen a mile behind them.
Lex was deeply drawn to this young woman. There was no denying that. Everything he had observed said the attraction was mutual.
The answer Lex settled on was, sorta’.
He cupped her cheek and kissed her sweaty forehead. Salty but sweet. And, like everything about Gemma that he had evaluated, perfect for Lex James.
“Come on, Gem. We could both use a dip in the river to cool down.”
She raised her head and turned to face him, remaining much closer than necessary. “You passed the test.” Her words came wrapped in a hoarse whisper.
