Hold On To Me

by Elisabeth Naughton

  “Message received,” he whispered. Then, easing back, “Come on, sweetheart. You don’t want to miss this. I promise it’s going to be good.”

  He headed up the path again. And as Simone tried to settle her thumping heart, the first snowflake flittered through the air in front of her.

  Oh boy. She was in big trouble here. She had no doubt whatever he planned was going to be incredibly good. The question was, could she resist it? Because after today, she knew for sure that he was no longer pissed at her. And while part of her was relieved by that fact, another part was deathly afraid. Fighting her own desires was one thing. Fighting his when he turned on the Mitch Mathews I’m gonna make you mine charm? Something entirely different.

  He’d already rounded the bend by the time she got her act in gear and started moving again. When she reached the corner, she caught sight of the Martis Peak fire lookout and slowed her feet. It was still a ways ahead, up the steepest part of their hike, but it was more than she’d expected.

  The small square building with a pointed roof sat on top of a rock outcropping. A deck ran all the way around the lookout, and a flagpole, void of flag, stood tall against the darkening sky.

  Mitch had already made it to the base of the rocks and was waving for her to catch up. Steeling her resolve, she lifted her foot so the stupid snowshoe wouldn’t get stuck. By the time she reached him, she was sweaty, shaking with nerves, and more than a little ticked she couldn’t seem to get her own stupid emotions under control.

  “These may work, but they totally slow you down.” He knelt in front of her to unhook her showshoes. “No wonder it’s taking you forever. Your buckle snapped.”

  She looked down at the latch he held in his hand and realized that was why it had felt like she was dragging the damn thing. “I told you the great outdoors and I don’t get along.”

  He chuckled and unlatched her other snowshoe. “There’s never a better time to change that.” Rising to his feet, he grasped her gloved hand with his and tugged her up the stairs. “Almost there.”

  If she hadn’t been worried about slipping on the ice-and-snow-covered steps, she’d have pulled her hand free. As it was, she bit back the protest on her lips and yanked the collar of her jacket up to block the bite of wind rushing over the deck of the small building. But when she saw the view, her mouth fell open, and all thought slipped from her mind.

  “Oh…wow.”

  “Too bad this weather’s moving in,” Mitch said at her back as she stepped up to the railing. “I bet the view this morning was pretty stellar.”

  With the light snow falling and the thickening clouds, she couldn’t see much more than the outline of the lake below and the snowy mountains on the Nevada side; the California side was already blanketed in white, blocking the view. But it was enough. The lake was huge, the water a deep crystal blue she’d never seen before. Her gaze skipped over the north edge of the lake, and she searched for Kendrick’s house but couldn’t see it. On a clear day, she was sure you could see all the way to Heavenly Ski Resort in South Lake Tahoe.

  “This side isn’t quite so bad.”

  The sound of Mitch’s voice on the far side of the building drew her from the view. She followed the decking around the corner of the building. From here, the view stretched to Truckee and the white-capped mountains beyond. Several lakes dotted the landscape, and a long road stretched across a valley.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Truckee-Tahoe Airport. Kendrick usually flies in and out of there. Faster than driving up from Sacramento. Those mountains make up the Granite Chief Wilderness.”

  “And that?” She pointed to another, smaller body of water to the northwest.

  “Donner Lake.”

  “We passed that on the way here, didn’t we?”

  He glanced sideways at her. “You have good eyesight when you’re asleep.”

  Oh yeah. She’d been pretending to sleep on the drive to Tahoe. She’d forgotten that. Her cheeks heated.

  He tugged her to the east side of the lookout, his face like that of a kid in a candy store, eager to share what he’d already found. “On a good day, you can see almost all the way to Reno. You’ve got almost a three-hundred-sixty degree view from up here.” He frowned and looked up into the clouds, his cheeks as rosy as hers, his nose a soft shade of red. “I wish you could see it.”

  She believed him. And she wished she could see it all too. Walking around the other side of the building again, she watched as the clouds slowly moved over Lake Tahoe, smothering it in a field of white. There was no one around. No sound except the wind curling through the trees. No one who could see her or care about what she was doing. And for a moment, she felt as small as one of the snowflakes floating in the air. The people who were chasing her, everything that had happened in the last few days… None of it seemed to matter when she was looking at a view as vast and awe-inspiring as this.

  “Pretty cool, huh?”

  He moved up behind her, and she sensed he was close, even though he didn’t touch her. “Yeah. Very cool. I can’t even see the bear that was following us.”

  His laughter echoed on the breeze and slowly died off. “This is what I love most about hiking. Getting to the top and realizing…you’re a part of something really amazing. You might not be able to see it all the time. You might not be able to feel it. But it’s all around you. And it’s always there when you need a little reassurance that the world isn’t so bad after all.”

  Her throat grew thick, her eyes damp as she looked out over the steadily shrinking view. All these months she’d repeatedly turned down his requests to take her hiking, she hadn’t realized he’d been trying to show her a piece of who he was inside. Not just the laid-back, carefree, sexy man she’d been dating, but the real him. And to share with her that what he felt for all this was similar to what he felt for her. That to him, what they had was just as amazing and awe-inspiring as what was always around them.

  “You’re shivering,” he said softly just behind her. “Let’s go inside and get warmed up.”

  Yes, she was cold, but she wasn’t shaking because of the temperature. She was shaking because even with all the awful things she’d done to him in the last few days, she knew he still loved her. No one had ever loved her like that. Not her parents or Steve or even Shannon. Not to the point that they could put aside their own hurt and forgive the way he did. The way he was doing right now.

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her around the side of the building. Pushing the door open with his hip, he drew her into the square room with windows on every side that looked out at the view. It was still cold in here, but the bitter bite of wind was gone, and for the first time she realized how frozen her cheeks were.

  He dropped his pack on the floor and pulled her into his body, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to stimulate circulation. “Maybe this hike wasn’t such a good idea. We left later than I thought we would.”

  “I-I’m fine,” she stuttered. But was she? She wasn’t sure anymore. Even in the middle of all the craziness, things had made sense. When she knew what she had to do, when she focused on a goal like getting Shannon somewhere safe, she could convince herself she was doing the right thing. But these last few days with Mitch… Nothing made sense anymore.

  “We should have turned around when I noticed the clouds getting darker.”

  He continued to rub her arms, but he wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was focused on the steadily darkening view. Worry tingled over her nerve endings. “Are you saying we’re…that we’re going to get snowed in up here?”

  His focus slid back to her. And in his soft green gaze, she saw confidence. A confidence that calmed her in a way nothing else could. “Not exactly. This storm won’t dump more than a few inches. But it’s getting dark. We have two choices. We can head down now, although we won’t make it to the rig before dark and there’s no telling how long it will take with your broken snowshoe—”

  “Going back now means we coul
d run into that bear, though, right?”

  An amused smile turned his lips. “Probably not. I’m sure he’s long gone.”

  “What’s our other option?”

  “We can stay here for the night.”

  Stay here? Overnight? In these close quarters? Her nerves jumped all over again as she looked around the small room, but this time it had nothing to do with the fear of freezing. “H-here? Can we d-do that?”

  His hands ran up and down her sleeves. And oh, what that smile did to her insides… “This lookout’s on forest service land. They leave it unlocked for snow backpackers and campers, just like us.”

  Just like them.

  A thought hit, and her eyes narrowed on that wicked grin. “You didn’t plan this, did you?”

  He feigned shock. “Planned this? The storm and darkness and your busted snowshoe?”

  “Don’t forget the bear.”

  He chuckled. “I’d have to be pretty talented to plan all that and make it work. We both know I’m not that organized.”

  He could be, though. When he put his mind to something, she had no doubt he could be successful at whatever he wanted. And that thought only excited her more, because she both loved and feared the idea of being stuck up here alone with him.

  “Assuming I vote for staying,” she said, her stomach a mass of nerves, “that doesn’t solve the problem of hypothermia. We’re out of the wind, but it’s already below freezing.” And it would only get colder. Which meant they’d have to rely on each other for warmth.

  A tingle ran down her spine at the thought.

  “I’ve got that covered.” Letting go of her, he knelt in front of his pack. He yanked off his gloves, set those on the ground, then extracted an LED light that looked like a cross between a flashlight and a lantern and flipped it on, illuminating the darkening room. After setting that on the floor, he pulled out a silver blanket folded into a ten-by-ten square and handed it to her. Finally, he extracted a round grill-like looking thing with a neck, a one-pound propane tank and connected the two. He reached into his pocket and produced a lighter, which he used to light the contraption. Seconds later, the inside of the round grill turned a red-orange color, and warmth seeped from the device.

  “Heat?” Simone yanked off her gloves and knelt to place her hands in front of the small portable heater. “You brought a heater with you? What else do you have in that magic pack?”

  Mitch attached a circular base to the heater and set it on the floor. “A few things to tide us over. I don’t usually pack the heater, but this was a short hike, and I wasn’t sure how cold you’d get.”

  Right now, Simone didn’t care if it made her look like a wimpy city girl or not. She was simply thankful for the warmth.

  While she warmed her hands, he set up the folding table in the room—the only furniture in the place—and moved his pack to the surface. Outside, the snow was definitely picking up, and the light was fading, making it impossible to see the lake below anymore.

  “We won’t be able to run the heater all night.” Mitch set a canteen, trail mix, a handful of granola bars, and a package of beef jerky on the table. “That tank will only last about five hours. But we can run it off and on, enough to take the chill off until morning.”

  Simone glanced over the measly selection, not particularly hungry but knowing she needed to eat something. She opted for a granola bar and a bit of jerky.

  Settling herself on the floor in front of the heater, she unzipped her jacket and began eating. The room was already growing warmer, and whatever worry had been lingering was now gone. At least any worry over the temperature.

  “Have you stayed up here before?” she asked, working for normal when she felt anything but.

  He grabbed his own granola bar and sat cross-legged on the floor next to her. “No. But I’ve always wanted to. Beats the hell out of a tent in the middle of the snow.”

  Simone chewed and figured that had to be true. “Did you ever bring Ryan up here?”

  “Once. He bitched the whole way. And it was summer. You’ve got bigger balls than he does, that’s for sure.”

  Simone couldn’t help it—she laughed, then covered her mouth. Mitch grinned and ripped open his granola bar. From inside his jacket, he produced a flask. He unscrewed the top and handed it to her. “I think you’ve earned this.”

  She took a small sniff, then a sip that warmed her insides all the way to her belly. Brandy. Wiping the back of her hand over her mouth, she blinked several times, then handed it back to him. “I think you solved the food-and-warmth problem.”

  “Not exactly.” He took a sip of the brandy and then screwed the lid closed. “It’s going to get cold in here once we turn off the heater. Which means if you’re opting for staying, we’re going to have to find another way to generate heat.”

  All those nerves came screaming back to life, and Simone’s cheeks heated. She could suddenly think of several ways to generate heat with him. And not a single one was safe.

  Mitch glanced out the windows, which were now almost completely black. “Better decide soon, or Mother Nature’s going to decide for you.”

  Simone’s gaze followed. And though it went against everything she’d been telling herself these last few days, she knew she didn’t want to be anywhere else tonight but right here with him. “It looks to me like she already decided.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Keeping his hands to himself tonight was going to be nearly impossible.

  Huddled together under the two-person Mylar thermal blanket, Mitch wished Simone hadn’t taken off her coat so there was more padding between their bodies. Not that he didn’t like feeling her up close and personal, but her subtle curves molded against his body made it damn hard to keep his hands from wandering over and under her soft sweatshirt to her silky skin beneath. And while he wanted nothing more than to do just that, he didn’t want to do anything to spook her. They’d just gotten to the point where they could be civil to each other. If he moved too fast, he’d send her running.

  And since she was obviously a pro at running, it was all he could do not to give her a reason to do just that.

  She sighed and laid her head against his chest, her heat seeping into his pores, reflecting back at him under the safety blanket, making him even hotter with every passing second. “‘Annie’s Song.’”

  “What?”

  She rested her hand on his chest and spread her fingers. Tingles rushed over his flesh everywhere she touched, even through his thick flannel shirt. “You were humming it.”

  He hadn’t realized he’d been humming. Nervous energy, obviously. He looked across the room but couldn’t see anything in the darkness. They’d extinguished both the lantern and heater for the time being to conserve energy. “You know John Denver?”

  “Not personally.” She laughed. “My mom used to listen to his Christmas album every year. I got to know a lot of his songs that way.”

  “My dad used to sing it to my sister when she was little. When she and Ryan got married, Dad played it for her during the father-bride dance.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “I think there’s a lot about each other we didn’t know.”

  Simone was silent, and in the darkness, Mitch cursed himself. He’d agreed not to mention the past, at least for the next few days, and he’d already crossed his own damn line.

  “I didn’t have a wedding,” Simone said quietly. “Steve and I got married in a courthouse. We didn’t have to. I mean, WITSEC had already given me my new identity as his wife, but he wanted it to be official.”

  She didn’t say more, and Mitch couldn’t quite tell if that was a good or bad thing. But man, he wanted to ask. Wanted to ask a thousand things about her dead husband. She’d rarely talked about the guy in all the months they’d been together, but he sensed if he pushed her for too much too soon, he wouldn’t get any of the answers he needed.

  “It was a month or so after we went into the program,” she finally went on. “I
didn’t really want to get married. Steve was the one who pushed it. Said he wanted everything to be official. For Shannon.”

  “For Shannon,” she muttered. “’For Shannon’ was his excuse for everything. No one knows this, but I didn’t want to have a baby. That probably makes me a terrible mother, doesn’t it? I didn’t want to get married, didn’t want to have kids. And I resented him for it, because in one split second, I gave up my whole life. For a man I wasn’t even in love with. Lust, yes. Love? No. I didn’t even get to say good-bye to my grandmother.”

  Mitch wasn’t sure what to say. But his mind drifted to her parents, who’d flown out a few times from Baltimore to spend time with Shannon. “What about your parents? I met them.”

  Simone shifted against him. “No, you met our neighbors. Ray and Betty lived next door to us in Baltimore. They sort of adopted us, and when Shannon was little and started calling them Grandma and Grandpa, none of us corrected them. My dad died in a car accident when I was little, and my mom raised me in a small town in Pennsylvania until she died from heart disease I was sixteen. After that, I lived with my grandmother until I left for college. Her health wasn’t good, and I didn’t get to see her as often as I should have. I think that’s part of the reason the US marshals let me go with Steve. I didn’t have much of a family to miss me. A year after we went into the program, my grandmother had a stroke. I couldn’t go to the hospital to be with her. Shannon was only a couple of months old then.”

  Mitch didn’t know what to say. So many lies. But he couldn’t judge her or be angry that she hadn’t told him the truth. Because if he’d been in the same position, he’d likely have done the same.

  Simone pushed up. All he could see were the whites of her eyes, but they were sad, and a small part of him broke, knowing the lies had hurt her way more than they’d ever hurt him. “I never blamed Shannon. She gave me a reason not to dwell on the negatives, and in a lot of ways, she saved me. And even though I never wished for any of this to happen, it taught me patience and the importance of thinking things through. I don’t regret the choices I made. But I do regret that I couldn’t talk about them. I think…” Her eyes drifted down to her hand, still resting against his chest. “I think maybe if I’d been able to talk about it…things might have been easier.”