by Deb Stover
At least he seemed to believe her now, though she couldn't imagine why he hadn't earlier.
He made a snorting sound and opened the leather pouch at his waist. "Well, look here." He withdrew a small white vial. "Aspirin for your headache." After tipping two white pills into his hand, he passed them to her and continued to search through his belongings.
He acted as if he didn't know what the pouch contained. How odd. Of course, who was she to question anyone's memory? Maybe she would remember more later. The correct spelling of her first name had come to her, after all. Eventually, other things would follow. Wouldn't they?
But since she'd remembered something on her own, perhaps now he would tell her. "Will you please tell me my last name now?" Maybe hearing it would jar the rest of her memory.
He shook his head slowly, and something resembling compassion softened his expression. "I really don't know. I'm sorry."
Frustrated, she sighed, staring at the aspirin in her open palm. She remembered aspirin was for pain and fever, but she needed water to swallow it. With a sigh, she dropped it into her pocket for later.
She looked at him, wishing he would suddenly reveal this was all nothing more than a cruel hoax, and that he really did know her name. "I guess if you don't know my name, then you don't know where I live either."
"Nope." He turned away and looked toward the town again. A fine mist started to fall from the heavy clouds and the temperature dropped a few more degrees. "We'd better get moving," he said, then looked at her again. "Did you take the aspirin?"
"No water."
"Oh, yeah. That's right." He looked up at the sky and sighed. "This is lousy hiking weather, and I've known it to snow in the high country this time of year."
"Snow?" Had they survived one disaster only to fall victim to another? "I guess we'd better hurry."
"Yeah, that was my plan," he muttered, offering her his hand. "Let's go."
Sofie looked at his hand–a hand belonging to the man who had saved her from certain death in that cave. "You may not know my name, but you must know yours." She made a halfhearted effort to smile as she placed her hand in his and met his gaze.
His breaths came in rapid succession, filling the air around them with white vapor. "Father Salazar," he finally said in a strained voice. Thunder rumbled overhead as if to punctuate his introduction, then the sky burst open with a deluge. Without another word, he started up the rocky incline, dragging her along.
She struggled to keep pace, stumbling several times before they reached the top. The wind drove the rain harder now, whipping it into their faces.
"How much farther?" she shouted into the wind.
He paused, and she saw the dark shape of his head through the rain as he turned to look down at her. His expression was blurred by the watery curtain, but she figured he probably didn't appreciate her stopping at this point, even for a moment.
Without bothering to answer her question, he picked his way along, never releasing her hand. The sky darkened even more and the storm worsened, shrouding Father Salazar's dark shape–so close, yet so far. She clung to his wet hand, praying his status as a priest would grant them a miracle.
Like sand, the raindrops stung her icy cheeks until they felt like raw meat. Her feet had long since turned numb, as had the tip of her nose. Only her hands still had feeling–one tucked trustingly into Father Salazar's and the other shoved deep into the pocket of her dirty white blazer.
Their pace slowed and Sofie's fear mounted. With visibility practically zero, they could be moving farther away from the town, rather than toward it. God, they were going to die and she couldn't even remember her name. Did she have a family? Would anyone miss her?
Scalding tears pricked her eyelids, but she blinked them away. The last thing she needed now was any more water on her skin.
Weariness pressed down on her and her head felt as if it would explode. Explode... Then she remembered the loud, thundering noises in the cave where she'd been injured. What was that place, and why had she been there?
A wave of dizziness gripped her and she lost her savior's hand. What little she could see turned to blackness and she felt herself falling. She slid down a slope and hard gravel ground into her already raw face, but she was too weak to struggle. No more. She couldn't take another step.
This was the end. She would die up here in the wilderness without even knowing her name.
Luke felt her hand slip from his grasp and he stopped to look back. Rain fell so hard he could barely see his own hand, let alone Sofie. She could have tumbled down the mountainside without his knowing, the sound of her cries muffled by the raging storm.
And why should he care? Why should he continue to risk his own life for hers?
"Damn." Why didn't matter, because he couldn't leave her out here in this. No one deserved to be left alone to die in the wilderness.
Or in the electric chair.
Luke swallowed. Hard. It didn't help. Despite the frigid rain, the heat of electrocution flashed through him again. He shivered as hot and cold swept through him intermittently.
His breath came in rapid bursts as he stared back through the rain, hoping for yet fearing a glimpse of Sofie. The thought of her name brought a pang of regret and he closed his eyes. He couldn't leave her here. She was almost as much a victim in this mess as he.
And she cried for me.
"Shit." He lowered his chin to his chest and forced his eyes open. Wimp. Gritting his teeth, he dropped to the ground and felt his way back a few feet. At first, the rain had stung his raw scalp and face like fire, but all he felt now were the flames of remorse in his gut.
If he didn't find her within a few minutes, he'd have to go on without her. At least by trying to find her, he might appease his guilt later. Still, he knew the memory of her tears would haunt him forever.
Unless the cops found him and saved him the trouble of forever.
He brushed against something rough. A rock. The wind and rain weren't as bad here, partially blocked by the rocky wall. Good news and bad news, since he couldn't remember passing this before. Where was Sofie?
Carefully, he turned until his feet were against the rock, then he crawled straight out from it, slowly picking his way. He blinked several times when he realized the ground took a slight drop. How far down? After a moment, he determined it was only a slight incline–just enough to hide Sofie in the storm. As he drew closer, he made out the shape of her dark hair and scrambled toward her.
Leaning close, he felt her neck for a pulse. She was alive, but unconscious. He slid one arm behind her shoulders and the other under her knees and lifted. Her weight made him stagger as he pushed to his feet. They'd both been through hell today, and he was ready to pass out right beside her.
But he couldn't, dammit. He had to keep going until he found help for her and freedom for himself. Freedom. The mere thought of it gave him strength and he trudged back toward the rock wall.
He moved carefully, hoping they wouldn't end up tumbling all the way down the mountain. When he found the wall again, it brought welcome shelter from the wind and some of the rain. He adjusted his burden and turned his back against the cliff, inching his way along, tentatively testing the ground with his foot for any sudden drops.
The wall ended, but the ground didn't. Squinting through the rain, he saw a small opening in the side of the cliff. He eased through far enough to provide shelter. Like a womb, the rock closed in around them, shutting out the storm. The silence inside was startling, compared to the howling wind and deluge outside. As he lowered himself to the cold but dry stone floor, all Luke heard was their heavy breathing and the steady thud of his heart against the woman in his arms.
Incredible. Here he was alone in the wilderness with a beautiful woman–an unconscious woman who might very well cost him his freedom. And his life.
If he left her here out of the rain, she might regain consciousness and find her own way to civilization. Then again, she might die.
Which wa
s more important, a clear conscience or his escape? He looked at her pale face in the dim light and his throat constricted. Yes, helping her would appease his guilt, but at what price?
Fool. Even as he argued with himself, he knew he wouldn't–couldn't–leave her. Like that night he'd tried to save a liquor store clerk's life...
Luke Nolan was no killer, and he wasn't about to start now. He brushed her dark curls away from the bruise at her temple. At least her wound hadn't started to bleed again.
She looked young for a doctor. Young and vulnerable. She shivered and he pulled her closer. If only there were some way to get dry.
Her sodden lab coat gaped open, revealing small firm breasts, clearly outlined against her wet T-shirt. Running for his life or not, he couldn't prevent his hungry male gaze from seeking and finding her nipples. It had been so long since he'd touched a woman.... And the last time, he'd been nothing but a horny teenager.
Now he was a man. A man who'd spent all his adult life behind bars. On death row. In isolation.
Oblivious to their predicament and his burned skin, Luke's body responded to her softness filling his lap. At least everything seemed to be in working order–amazing, considering. She was a beautiful woman, though a little on the skinny side. If only their situation were different....
"Oh," she moaned, shifting in his lap.
Luke tensed as her bottom pressed against his thrusting anatomy. Some priest. Holding his breath, he forced aside thoughts of sex and raging hormones and watched her closely. Her inky lashes fluttered a few times, then she opened her eyes and stared up at him.
"What...what happened?" She tried to push herself to a sitting position, but abandoned her efforts when he pressed his hand gently against her shoulder. "Where are we?"
"I think it might be an old mine," he said, watching her face closely. Had she remembered anything more? "How's your head?"
She touched her temple uncertainly. "Better, I think." She sighed and said, "But I still can't remember anything."
"I'm sorry." Of course, that was a lie. He was relieved she couldn't remember his true identity. Her expression of trust would undergo an immediate reversal if she realized who he was–a convicted felon.
Again, he was reminded that only a miracle had saved him. If not for that series of perfectly timed explosions, he would be dead by now. And this woman–this doctor–would have signed his death certificate.
"I must have fainted." She gave him a weak smile. "I'd like to try sitting up now."
"Take it easy." He helped her into a sitting position, which brought their bodies into even more intimate contact. But if she'd noticed his arousal, she didn't show it. Yeah, some priest, Nolan.
Luke winced as she slid across him. Bracing herself with her hand, she eased off his lap and onto the floor at his side. Now, maybe, he could get his ill-timed and ill-mannered cravings under control. He had far more urgent matters to attend.
"You okay?" he asked. His voice sounded hoarse. Strained. Had she noticed?
"Yes, I think so." She drew a deep breath and smiled. "Thank you again, Father."
He could grow to hate that title, except it might save his life yet. "You're welcome." Clearing his throat, he brought his knees up to chin level. "We'll rest here until the storm passes."
"Yes, maybe when the rain stops, we'll be able to see the town again."
"If we've been heading in the right direction." Luke tried to keep impatience from his voice, but this delay could cost him plenty. "From what I saw before the rain started, we still have to go down this mountain and up another."
She sighed and scooted against the stone wall beside him, her thigh barely touching his. Following his example, she pulled her knees against her chest.
Luke couldn't prevent himself from remembering what she'd felt like in his lap. His pulse escalated and his heart pressed against his constricting throat, just as his erection pressed against the zipper of Father Salazar's trousers.
Shame filled him. The real priest was dead and Luke was alive. The least he could do was keep himself from getting a boner every time a woman brushed against him. But how?
By planning his future. Now that he had one...
He'd take Sofie to the town, then head south. There wasn't much money in Father Salazar's wallet, but there was probably enough for a bus ticket. Distance was the key.
Distance...and speed.
Sofie tried not to remember Father Salazar's erection, but she couldn't help it. A priest had responded to her sexually.
A priest! She swallowed hard and bit her lower lip. Of course, she shouldn't even have noticed, and it was wrong of her to think about it now.
What kind of person was she? She had no idea. Sofie was a stranger to herself. For all she knew, maybe she was the kind of woman who would encourage such attention from a man. Even from a priest...?
No. It had been a simple quirk of nature. Nothing more. The sooner she forgot about the incident, the better. Right now, survival took precedence.
And regaining her memory.
Her clothing was soaked through, but at least they were out of the storm. She sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve. Her shivering stilled somewhat, becoming intermittent, rather than continuous.
"Do you know what time it is?" she finally asked.
"Beats me." His voice was warm and vibrant. Alive. "My stomach thinks it's lunchtime, though. Especially since I didn't get breakfast."
Sofie nodded, amazed that her head no longer pounded. Nearly freezing to death seemed to have helped. Gingerly, she touched her temple and sensed Father Salazar's gaze on her.
"How's your head?" he asked again. "Really?"
"Better. Really." She sniffled again. "I wonder how long the storm will last."
"Hard to say, but it's early enough in the season that even if it changes to snow, it shouldn't be too bad." He gave a derisive laugh. "But it sure seemed bad enough while we were out there."
"Yes." She looked down at her thin white blazer, worn over a pair of jeans and a dark green T-shirt. At least she was wearing hiking boots. Still, even to her frazzled mind, her clothing seemed mismatched. Wrong, somehow. "What's this jacket I'm wearing? Some kind of uniform?"
"A lab coat, I suppose." The harsh edge had returned to his voice. "You're a doctor."
"A doctor?" Sofie stared at him for several seconds. The intensity of his gaze was riveting yet disturbing. He watched her as if he expected something. "Are you serious? I'm a doctor?"
"Yeah." He released his breath in a loud whoosh and looked down at his hands, draped over his knees. "Are you still cold?" he asked without looking at her.
"Yes." A draft infiltrated their cocoon and she shivered violently. "If only we could get d-dry."
"Dumb question, huh? We're both wet and cold." He scooted closer and put his arms around her shoulders. "I can't think of any other way," he said in a somewhat apologetic tone.
The warmth of his embrace stopped her shivering. Maybe their combined body heat would keep them from freezing. At any rate, it made her feel safe and warm. Neither of them spoke, and despite the cold, his sunburned skin radiated heat through his wet clothing. She drew comfort against the solidness of his shoulder.
"I can't be a doctor," she said finally, breaking the silence. "I would remember something about medicine, wouldn't I?"
His arms tensed around her and she heard his teeth grinding. "Believe me, you're a doctor."
"How do you know? Where were we and what were we doing? For that matter, what happened back there?"
"What do you think happened?"
"I...I'm not sure." She lifted her head and looked up at his face through the dimness. "Something exploded."
He nodded. "That's right. Something exploded."
She had so many more questions to ask, but he pulled away and poked his head through the narrow opening to the outside.
"It's stopped." He turned to face her with an urgent expression. "We have to go now, or we'll end up spending the nigh
t in this cave."
Alone. Priest or no priest, Sofie didn't feel right about being here alone with him all night. Not after what she'd noticed earlier. In fact, it was because she'd noticed that made her wary. But why? There was nothing even remotely attractive about a bald, sunburned priest.
"I'm ready to try," she said. "Let's go."
He rose to a half-crouch beneath the low ceiling and held out his hand. Trusting him with her life yet again, she placed her hand in his and followed him outside.
Patches of blue showed through the clouds now, and she shaded her eyes to look into the distance. They both scanned the landscape several times before he pointed and said, "There it is."
Without waiting for her response, Father Salazar started walking. How many more mountains? She tried to remember what she'd seen earlier from a higher vantage point, before the storm. Down this one and up one more?
Her wet clothes chafed her skin as she struggled to keep pace. She understood and shared his urgency, but her body protested every jarring step.
At the bottom, she pulled her hand free. "Please, I need a minute."
He turned to look back at her, his eyes blazing with impatience...and something more. He looked frantic. But maybe it was the thought of being stranded in the wilderness overnight that made him seem that way.
Or maybe he shared her concern about the two of them being stranded out here alone.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I'm ready now."
Grunting in acknowledgment, he started up the mountain, then paused to take her hand. His shaved head glistened fiery red in the filtered sunlight.
How had he been sunburned so badly? And who was she, and why had she been way up here in the mountains with a priest in the first place? And why didn't he know her name if he knew she was a doctor? None of this made sense.
And what had caused the explosion she barely remembered? In fact, that was the very last thing she remembered before Father Salazar had saved her from certain death. She owed him her life.
Regret slithered through her as she struggled against her clinging wet jeans to keep pace with the priest. She should never have distrusted him, or given his physical reaction to her a second thought. How ridiculous.
