The strain in her voice pulled him up short. "A few hundred yards. Want me to carry you?"
"No. Keep moving."
He swept her into his arms before she could protest and trudged ahead.
"What did you do that for?" she quizzed with a sharp tone.
She wasn't too pissed, because she rested her head on his shoulder.
"So do you have a family?" She lifted her head as if she could see him in the dark.
"Doesn't everybody?" The second he said it, she stiffened. Trying not to open old wounds, he tried joking. "Although, Nan used to tell me I was hatched not born."
"Your grandmother sounds like a smart woman."
"She used to be. She's been gone for years." Warm memories crept up on him. "She watched us while my mother worked. Used to claim I was never still, said I ran around like a chicken with his head cut off."
"I'm sorry. What about your mother and father? Are you close?"
This woman in his arms was full of questions. "Never met the sperm donor. My mother worked two jobs most of her life. She died mourning the murder of my sister."
"I'm sorry."
Her soft tone, filled with pity, stood the hair on his arms on end. If there was one person in this world who didn't deserve sympathy, it was him. Why had he shared information about his family? Fuck. He'd opened up and spilled his guts. Only a handful of people knew the truth about his sister's death.
He picked up the pace. The sooner they reached a hut, the sooner he'd escape Ana's inquisition.
He walked the last few yards to what was left of a small village. All but a couple of the handmade huts were mere shells, having burned to the ground. Behind the one hovel that had survived was a double row of graves. In this case, darkness served its purpose. She wouldn't see the area until after she'd rested.
He took a chance and turned on his flashlight long enough to get inside and make sure they wouldn't be sharing their humble abode with unwanted guests. Ana moved to stand beside him, pistol at the ready. Five-foot-five inches of bravery. He respected that.
The one-room shack was empty. In fact, nothing, other than the outer hull, hinted a human had ever been there. Ty wondered if a survivor had gathered his belongings and moved on, or if vandals had helped themselves to the spoils of war.
"Hang tight while I stack a few fronds over the opening. I'll get the lantern going soon."
"Bring a few back with you. I'll fashion somewhere to stretch out."
Ty turned and took a couple of steps outside. "Ana?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't—"
"I know." She laughed. "Don't shoot you."
She'd hadn't protested being left in the dark. Maybe she trusted he'd return. So he hustled.
He hated to block out the breeze. But it had to be done. Even turned down low, the lantern would shine like a beacon. If she fell asleep, he'd douse the light and let the fresh air inside. Until then, they'd sweat.
"Coming in," he said, pushing through with an armload of fronds. He used a few to shore up the makeshift door and carried the rest inside for her.
She didn't speak a word. Even through the NVGs, the panic on her face was obvious. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. The reason was perched on her right shoulder.
"You're doing fine," he said, keeping his tone soft.
He slowly pulled the lantern from his pack and turned it on. The giant tarantula rose up on its legs and bobbed up and down. A warning? Texas grew some damn large spiders, but this thing was larger than Ty's hand. Worse, it was inches from her face.
Ana's entire body trembled, drawing the creature's attention. From the look in her eyes, Ty guessed he had seconds before she bolted.
He slowly lowered to his knees and inched forward. He extended his hand to rake off the tarantula. The ugly bastard stood up on those hairy legs and spun in a circle. In one motion, Ty swept the damn thing off her shoulder and onto a tree limb being used as a wall brace.
With a soft cry, she jumped into his arms, wrapping around him like a glove. He gathered her close, patting her back.
Her shoulders shook. Crying women freaked him out.
"Hey." He untangled her, considered kissing her cheeks dry but knew not to start something they might not be able to stop.
"Hey, yourself." Tears slowed to a trickle.
"Hang on."
Ty slipped his SOG out of the sheath. With a flip of his wrist, the knife sailed toward the offender. "There. He won't do that again."
Ana sat back on her heels and wiped her cheeks. She looked over her shoulder and laughed. The sound filled the hut and brightened the mood.
Her dark brown eyes searched his. "I thought you didn't kill innocents."
"That was no innocent. Did he bite you?"
She frowned and tilted her head sideways. "Spinning like he did was a defense mechanism. He raked my neck with the sharp spikes on his back legs."
"Crap." Ty inspected the already forming rash on her neck. His gut knotted. This could be some bad shit coming. "Are the spikes poisonous?"
"Not really. It's the equivalent of a bee sting and might give me a rash. I've never heard of anyone dying from them."
Ty's breath left his lungs in a whoosh. Relief was instantaneous. Her dying wasn't an option.
Yet again, he hadn't been there when someone else needed him.
She averted his gaze. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have leaned back to rest until you returned."
"Whoa." He gave her the universal sign for time-out. "Everything that goes wrong is not your fault." He caught her chin and tugged her head toward him. "I shouldn't have left you alone."
"I'm the reason you're not home having dinner with a girlfriend."
Ty shook his head. Arguing with her was a no-win situation. Growing up in the same house with his grandmother, mother, and sister had taught him to zip it shut when a woman got on a roll.
"Am I wrong?" she pushed.
"You are."
"So your wife's waiting?" She raised her eyebrows as a puzzled expression spread across her face.
Damn woman had the tenacity of a pit bull.
Ty dragged his pack between them and dug out two MREs. "Nobody's waiting for me."
Chapter Six
Ana woke with a start. Her skin tingled as if hundreds of bugs crawled over her. She took a second to orient herself. The stinging rash on her neck had probably caused the nightmare.
She lay flat on her back, staring at the thatched roof. The soft glow coming from the moon shot dark shadows across the barren gray walls of the hut. Had she really slept through Ty picking her up and moving her to the makeshift pallet?
Where was he? Her blood pressure skyrocketed. She pushed up on her elbows and glanced around. He'd unblocked the opening and allowed the night air inside. Leaning against the hand-hewn post, head back, eyes closed, he could have been a poster for the military. Unshaven, wrinkled and dirty, he carried himself with a quiet dignity. A silent strength. An unspoken loyalty. She'd never seen anything so beautiful.
A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He wasn't asleep. The urge to suggest he move to the pallet and lie down next to her hit hard. He needed to rest, but it was best he stay put. She quickly shook off that idea. Besides, he was on the job.
"I appreciate the breeze, but isn't it dangerous to turn off the lantern?"
"You were tossing and turning. Letting the breeze in was a calculated risk worth taking." He shifted to face her, opening his dark eyes. "Sweat probably makes the rash worse. How's the neck?"
"It stings."
Ty unfolded his torso and straightened his spine with a stretch. He brought the canteen to her.
"Drink." He waited until she'd finished. "Let's take a look."
He removed a small flashlight from his pocket and leaned his body over hers. His nearness stirred something inside Ana. Such a strong emotion was probably to be expected. He'd saved her life a couple of times. She pushed the tingling sensation away.
Ty took a piece of g
auze from his first aid kit, soaked it with water, and gently rinsed her neck. A second pour, and he laid the cool compress against her skin. He pressed his palm to her forehead.
"No fever." He leaned over to her foot and inspected her ankle. "Swollen but better."
"Thank you, Dr. Castillo." She studied his face to see if he got that she'd turned his words back on him. The gleam in his eyes confirmed he did even if he didn't smile. "The bruise on your cheek is fading. Does it hurt?'
"No." She swallowed under his scrutiny.
"Good. Go back to sleep. Tomorrow is the most dangerous stretch of the trip. We'll be out in the open and too damn exposed for my taste."
He turned off the flashlight, moved back to his spot next to the opening, and turned his face to the outside. What ran through his mind? Was he thinking about home? The next adventure? The next paycheck?
She needed to believe he was a mercenary, that he was a callous gun for hire. A warrior who cared about nothing except a payday. But his kindness and the gentle way he touched her made her wonder. His bravery and protectiveness sent pulses of heat through her.
Ana turned to her side, facing away from him. She shifted her weight, moved her legs, and tried every position to get comfortable. The fronds under her rustled with each change. The heat seemed to have increased. Even the compress felt steeped in warm water. God forgive her, she'd kill for a cool shower. She tried and failed to close her mind off and relax.
A hand came to rest on her back, gently pressing her over on her stomach. She hadn't heard him move, yet he was next to her. Ana opened her mouth to question him, but long, strong fingers started kneading her tense muscles. Slowly, his massage untied the knots.
His movements weren't sexual. He was deliberate and firm with the rubdown. Soon, his manipulations turned her body into a lump of jelly. She moaned.
"Shh," he said softly. "Rest. You'll need your strength."
He patted her shoulder and was gone. Her senses went on high alert. She refused to miss his touch. She closed her eyes, willing herself to follow his instructions.
****
Ana dreamed Ty gently touched her cheek. His stroke was affectionate and sensuous, compelling her to lean into his caress.
"Hey. Time to go."
Ty's voice came from above her. She snapped her eyes wide open. "You startled me."
"You were moaning. That must've been quite a dream. Want to tell me about it?"
"I do not." Embarrassment flooded her face, and she hoped he didn't notice.
His gaze held hers, and one corner of his mouth lifted. The sexy expression disappeared, and he shrugged his shoulders. "Shake those boots out before you put them on. We've been here too long. Let's move out."
"Three minutes." She hurried because of his brusque tone. Why had she dreamed about someone as unpredictable as him? Last night he'd been kind, even gentle. For a brief moment just now, she'd caught a glimpse of a gentle Ty. It hadn't lasted long enough, and now a different man waited outside.
Maybe his sudden brusque behavior was to prepare her for the rest of the journey. After all, he'd clearly stated she needed to rest. She redid her hair and stepped out into the morning.
Ty pushed off the tree he'd leaned against. "Ready?"
"May I have the canteen?"
"Of course."
She drank, and he inspected her rash. He paused and looked into her eyes. "You're exhausted, but we can't stop."
"I'm ready." Exhausted didn't quite describe how she felt this morning. Every muscle in her body screamed in protest. Weary didn't work, either. There had to be a bigger, more powerful word to describe her condition. She was too tired to think of it.
"Can you walk?" He took a step toward her.
"Yeah. Let's get this done." She'd be loco to let him carry her. Her arms were covered in scratches, her ankle hurt, and the best she could tell the rash on her neck was getting worse, but she was better off keeping her feet on the ground.
She followed him, relieved to not be in the thickest part of the jungle and yet nervous to be so exposed. He moved at a slow walk. Was he making concessions for her?
She tracked the sun as it moved across the sky. Beaming down, it warmed her skin while the breeze cooled her.
The musty scent of the river forewarned her. They were close. Funny, without exchanging words or a look, they both picked up their pace. One last curve, and the world opened up. The jungle behind them was forgotten. There was life here, movement.
Ty slid the pack off to the ground. He closed his eyes, tilted his face up, and inhaled deeply. She shared his relief that the worst was probably behind them.
"The village is straight ahead." He smiled, and Ana wondered how often he did that. "The people are friendly and will give us shelter."
She moved to stand beside him, waving her hand forward. "Then what are we waiting for? Did you stop so you could catch your breath?"
His eyebrow rose. "Careful or we'll jog the last few miles."
"Cómico tirón." She strode off down the weathered road, letting him walk behind her for a change. He caught up in a few long strides.
"I'm glad you find me a comedian," he said with a huff. "But a jerk?"
"Is that your way of letting me know you speak the language?"
"A few words. Irracional comes to mind."
Ana planted her tired feet and came to a quick halt. "How dare you call me irrational when you know so little about me?"
"You'll have plenty of time to fill me. The boat doesn't pick us up until morning."
"You wouldn't understand, no matter what I said. I'd rather have a bath and some food."
He sighed that infuriating sound and pointed forward, his muscular forearm flexing with the movement. "That can be arranged. First, we have to get there."
****
Ty hesitated outside Santiago's small village. He'd met with the leader before heading in to get Ana. The less the chief and his small tribe knew the better. Ty had limited his information sharing, stating that he'd be bringing a woman with him on his way back to the river and needed a place to spend the night.
Ortega had to know the logical escape path was the river, but there were dozens of routes out of the jungle. Ty hadn't taken any of them, blazing his own trail. He and Ana would stay out of sight, depart in the morning and leave no evidence of ever being in the village.
People milled about, setting up makeshift tables and laying out handmade necklaces and purses. A beaded bag caught his eye. It sparkled in the light and triggered a memory of his sister opening Christmas presents. How she'd loved wearing bright, colorful things. Had she lived to see it, she'd have squealed with delight over the bracelet he'd bought her in New Orleans.
Fingers squeezing his arm snapped him back.
"Hey. Where'd you go?" Ana's gaze searched his face.
"Sorry." He stared down at her small hand. "We have to keep a low profile while we're here."
"I understand."
He grasped her elbow and led her into the open. She stuck right with him as he hurried toward the chief's hut.
Santiago stepped out to greet them. Wearing a wraparound skirt and a shirt that looked to have been imported from Hawaii, he waved and rushed to meet them. A smile lit up his wrinkled face.
"Friend Ty, welcome back." Santiago pumped Ty's arm up and down in a vigorous handshake. No way to guess the chief's age, but his frame had lost most of its heft, and his tied-back steel-gray hair hung limp like the flesh on his bones. His brown eyes were warm and inviting.
Ty clasped the elder's shoulder. "Good to be back. Do you need anything?"
"Nothing. We used the money you gave wisely." The chief's accent was slight, leaving Ty to wonder who'd taught him English.
Santiago's gaze drifted to Ana and softened. She stepped closer and extended both hands. He gripped them tightly and muttered something Ty couldn't hear. She answered, and the old man broke into a wide grin. Ty understood they'd exchanged names, but after that, their conversation went lig
htning fast, and he made no effort to sort out their words. Colombia had many dialects, and this was nothing like how the natives at the pond had spoken.
"Come." Santiago motioned toward a thatched hut at the far end of the village set back from the river. "Your woman is tired."
The phrase "your woman" put a surprised expression on both their faces, but he played along when Ana looped her hand through his arm.
"Santiago is going to see to it we have baths and dry clothes." She steered Ty the direction of the hut and whispered, "I'll explain later."
"Yes, you will." Ty matched her phony smile.
Santiago stopped. "Food inside." He turned and hurried away.
Ty pushed back the cloth covering the opening to the thatched hut, allowing Ana to enter first. On the ground was a short stack of colorful blankets for sitting and sleeping. A small bamboo table took up one corner and held a basket of fruit, nuts and homemade bread. Small and compact, it looked like a Hilton to him.
"What were you two saying back there?" He shrugged off his backpack and rested the rifle next to the doorway. He always kept his weapons within arm's reach.
Hunger pains hit him, surprising him. Food or rest weren't a consideration while he was on an op. Besides, his hands were filthy.
"I asked for a bath," she answered, but Ty knew the conversation lasted longer than she was saying.
Pouring water from a pitcher into a large wooden bowl, he rinsed his hands before ripping off a section of bread and passing it to her. He took a large piece for himself before asking, "I got that. What else?"
One corner of her mouth lifted. "The chief asked if we shared."
Ty coughed, choking on his first bite of real food in weeks at the thought of the two of them bathing together. She laughed, and something about the sound pulled at him. The hard lines of exhaustion on her face softened. No doubt, she'd be glad when this ordeal was over. Disheveled and injured, she was still the most striking woman he'd ever seen.
Parts of his body reacted, stirring a desire best left alone. This was the last place he needed a hard-on. What was it about her? Whatever it was, he spent too much time thinking about her being naked.
"I'd be interested in hearing what you said to him." A cold shower was going to be in order if he didn't get his head on straight. She was to be hand-delivered to Bogota. Period. So why was he panting like a puppy about to pop his bladder to hear the answer?
Cold Day In Hell Page 6
