Left alone, Brit decided to familiarize herself with the small camp set amid prickly pear cactus, yucca, cat claw, mesquite, and the shelter of large leafy cottonwood trees. It was a strange ecological mixture. She wandered around the small, neat camp, actually enjoying the peace and quiet of being alone and away from the Romeros' bickering for a little while.
Soon after the men left, Brit heard what she thought was an aircraft. The world at the bottom of the canyon was so quiet, so absolutely undisturbed, that anything as noisy as an airplane was a definite interruption. She tried to spot it, but low-hanging clouds prevented her from seeing the sky clearly. She wandered away from camp and down to the stream's edge. Funny how this whole area seemed nicer today than just yesterday.
She picked up a red pebble and tossed it into a small pool ringed by several strategically located boulders, as if they were placed there by some giant hand. She took a seat on a rock and trailed her own thin hand in the chilly water. This place was more like paradise than a prison. But it held them. They weren't here by choice. That made it a prison, didn't it?
Brit realized with a start that she was supposed to begin working on the movie set today. How often in a lifetime does someone get a chance to do that? This was to be the beginning of an exciting career and a brand new life. Yet here she was, stuck in the canyon. She couldn't help wondering if the producer realized she wasn't there today. Or if he even cared.
Surely everyone knew by now. The media had probably jumped on the story of Yolanda being lost in the canyon. And Frank had said that search and rescue efforts would begin when their chopper didn't meet the scheduled flight plan.
Michael was probably beside himself with concern over her. And what did she think of him? Of them together? The way she felt right now was much the same as yesterday and the day before. Only now she knew she had to officially break with him.
Brit picked up another stone and gazed at it centered in her palm. On one of their rest stops yesterday, Jake had explained that these red ones had lots of iron in them; the black stones were from some volcanic eruption millions of years ago. She tossed the stone into the pool and watched the ripples radiate outward to her.
Peeling off Jake's socks, she pulled the legs of her baggy jeans up and stepped into the shallow edges of the stream. The water was shockingly cold as it crept over her feet, and she realized that she felt dirty and in need of a warm shower. She squatted down and washed her face, scrubbing her complexion with the clear water. It was chilling, but refreshing, and she considered stripping and taking a bath in the stream while everyone was gone. The more she thought about it, the better the idea sounded.
Within minutes Brit had shimmied out of Jake's oversized clothes and was wading into the shallows of the pool. She splashed herself all over, delighting in the crude, but welcome bath. Her skin tingled from the icy water. It was refreshing as well as cleansing.
A hawk swooped overhead and screeched at her in its high-pitched voice. At first startled by the intrusion of a pair of eyes, she laughed and waved at the fantailed bird. Lifting her face, Brit let the gentle breeze caress her skin, drying it. The wind brought songs of unfamiliar birds as well as some familiar sounds . . . people talking.
Suddenly someone shouted her name. "Brit! Brit, where are you?"
The men were returning! So soon? And here she stood, bathing in the nude! She splashed through the knee-high water as she scrambled to get her clothes. But they were out of reach, draped on a rock all the way over at the pool's edge. Inadvertently, she had waded out near the middle of the stream where the water hit her mid-thigh. Scrambling, she reached for the shirt.
Jake's voice sounded alarmingly close. "Brit! Brit?"
Startled, she looked up. He stood on a rock ledge directly above her. Dark and towering, he seemed to dominate his world. Furthermore, he had a full view of the little pool—and of her, in the nude.
"Everything all right?" he called innocently.
Quickly Brit lifted the red plaid flannel shirt in front of her exposed body. "Until a minute ago, everything was just peachy!" Realizing the shirt wasn't covering her completely, she gestured angrily. "Can't I take a bath in privacy?"
"Sure, excuse me. I just . . . was worried about you. Didn't know where you were."
"Now you know."
He backed away, with no real apology that she could detect in his devilish grin. But his intense, stern expression had softened for the first time since they'd arrived. She'd gotten a response from him, but not the one she wanted.
Jake turned his back and pretended to be busy when Brit arrived back in camp. It wasn't that he was embarrassed at seeing her naked. On the contrary. He'd been delighted with the sight of her smooth, shimmering skin, still wet from her bath. He turned away because he didn't want her to see that pleasure still on his face. Besides, he knew she'd be furious. And, he admitted privately, rightfully so.
As Brit approached, the group was arguing, as usual. And Yolanda was at the center. "No excuses! How could you let him slip by? You had one thing to do, and you blew it!"
"Look, I didn't see you rolling out of the sack to make sure it was done right!" Rudi countered.
"You're back so soon," Brit said. "What happened?"
"Plane was earlier than scheduled. We missed him," Frank explained.
Brit frowned. "What do you mean 'missed him'? He came by. I heard him."
"Sure, he flew over," Frank said with a futile gesture. "Early. He dropped supplies. But we didn't get a chance to signal anything. Cloud cover was too low, so he couldn't see us, anyway."
"Can you beat that?" Yolanda said, stomping around and shaking her head. "Our one chance outta this hole, and you missed him. What a bunch of bumbling idiots."
Brit felt Yolanda's frustration. How could they have let this happen? She turned accusingly to Jake. "So what'll we do now?"
"Try again in a week when the next drop is scheduled." Jake tried not to let them see that he was as upset at the thought of them hanging around as they were. He ripped open one of the supply boxes and pulled out a couple of items, then left the rest packed. "We can use this cereal. Everybody like oatmeal?"
"Wait a minute. The plane isn't coming back for a week?" Yolanda asked, her voice reaching a shrill, whiny decibel. "If you think I'm gonna stay here a whole week, you're outta your mind, friend. Does anyone’s cell phone work?"
"Not down here," Jake muttered, checking the next supply box. "No towers. And the plane only comes once a week. We missed our chance this time. So, do you like oatmeal?"
"No! I hate it! My mother made me eat it every morning," Rudi answered, his aggravation mounting.
Jake ignored Rudi and nodded toward Brit. "You like it?"
She shook her head. "I don't eat breakfast."
Rudi stood in the middle of the camp, his fists on his hips. "You mean we've got to stay in this hellhole another week?"
"No. You can hike out," Jake answered smartly, irritated with their attitudes and their complaining. "And what about canned tuna?"
"Agghhh!" Yolanda uttered.
Frank broke into the conversation. "Well, that's exactly what I intend to do. Hike outta this place. You folks can stay here if you want, but I'm going for help. It's the only way."
They all turned to look curiously at the pilot, who stood with legs apart and arms folded. His face was determined. There was no changing his mind.
"Think you're up to it?" Jake asked. "It's a pretty rough climb."
"Of course I can do it," Frank said confidently. "Anyway, it's my fault that we're down here."
"Amen to that," Yolanda muttered.
Frank cut his eyes at her, then looked back to Jake. "I take full responsibility. And it's up to me to go get help. Can you show me the way outta here?"
"Sure. I’ll draw a map for you. And there are plenty of supplies. It'll take two full days of hiking. Maybe a little more, depending how fast you go. And the weather. If it storms, you may as well tuck it in and not try to fight it. M
other Nature is vicious out here and she always wins."
Everyone was unusually quiet while Jake helped Frank load a backpack with food and a blanket. Meanwhile, the wind kicked up occasional strong gusts, and the clouds overhead turned dark. Distant thunder rumbled, threateningly, warning of the impending turbulence. Jake handed Frank a navy blue jacket and a matching cap that read NAU, for Northern Arizona University, above the bill. "I think you'd better wait until after this squall, Frank. It's coming fast."
"Naw, no problem. I've delayed long enough."
"It could be violent. Sometimes they're pretty rough around here."
"I'll manage," said Frank stubbornly. "I’ll wait it out, then continue from there. You gonna give me that map?"
Jake motioned and the two men put their heads together over the map Jake had drawn. He explained the exit route along the tributary. "There might be a small cave through here that you could use as shelter. Another around here." Jake could tell that he was much more concerned about the weather than Frank. But it seemed that Frank's urge to get away from his nemeses, the Romeros, was so great that it obliterated his common sense.
While they ate a quick lunch, Jake wrote instructions about their location for the rescue team. "Give them this. They won't have any problem finding our camp."
Finally, there was no more information to relay; the time had come for Frank to leave. He shook hands with Jake and Brit, then turned to Rudi and Yolanda. "I, uh, I'm sorry about all this trouble and inconvenience. Maybe if I get somebody to rescue you ASAP, you'll forget about this lawsuit business."
"You'd better hurry, then," Rudi said stubbornly. "I'm still thinking about how much you've cost us. Not to mention the risk to our lives."
"Look, I could lose my pilot's license over this."
"Oh, too bad. Then you wouldn't get to dump anybody else into the bottom of the Grand Canyon," Yolanda grumbled.
"You might say that I saved your life by trying to land," Frank responded angrily. "You know we were all damned lucky to live to tell about it."
"I won't comment until I talk to my lawyer," Yolanda vowed.
"Good luck, Frank," Brit said, interrupting the tension-filled moment.
Frank nodded to them all, and with a little salute-wave, was off, following a path along the river. Silently they watched him retreat. Brit had mixed feelings. She understood Frank's need to go, his feeling of responsibility. But she couldn't help feeling that this was a dangerous trip he was undertaking. What if something happened to him? No one would know. What if . . . this were a bad decision? Frank seemed so small and helpless when contrasted to the towering vermilion cliffs.
"I wish someone were going with him," Brit said to anyone who would listen.
Rudi and Yolanda ignored her and walked away.
"He'll be all right. Anyway, it was his decision." Jake lifted one of the new supply boxes and hauled it to the big tent.
Brit caught up with him, still angry over the pool incident. "You know, I don't appreciate you peeping on me earlier."
"I wasn't peeping."
"Looking. Gaping. Staring. Whatever you call it, I call it peeping." She followed him from the big tent to the supplies, then back again, taking several steps to keep up with his long strides.
"Checking. Call it checking on you," he said firmly, his mouth drawn tight with his physical exertion. "I couldn't find you when we got back to camp. Yolanda had no idea where you were. I was concerned."
"Yeah, sure. Like I might have gone somewhere with no shoes."
He halted and glared at her for a moment. She could be damned pesky, but he wouldn't be diverted. "Like you might have fallen down one of these cliffs. Like you might have done some-thing stupid and—"
"The only stupid thing I did was to think I could have a moment of privacy in this miserable place." She turned on her bare heel and stalked away. The man was infuriating. He was always right, the perfect camper, the perfect man. He knew everything. She hated his type. At the slight touch on her arm, she stopped.
Jake held her for a moment, noting her tremble beneath his fingertips. "Brit, I . . ."
She turned and looked into his eyes. There was a spark of sincerity in their dark depths.
"I'm sorry I embarrassed you. When I stepped to that ledge, the last thing I expected to find was you taking a bath that, uh, way."
She hesitated long enough to study those dark eyes of his. Here was the apology she wanted. Was it enough? "I . . . hadn't planned to bathe," she offered as an excuse. "It was just a spontaneous act. I didn't expect you back so soon. Nor standing on a ledge watching me."
"I didn't watch. Just a glance." He tried to make it sound casual, as if he hadn't seen much of her. But he'd seen enough . . . enough to know that she was beautiful and sexy . . . enough to know how much that brief sight of her affected him. Even now, just remembering her slender feminine form bending to scoop the turquoise waters and letting it cascade over her body made his throat dry.
Thunder shook the ground and reverberated around them, reminding Jake of the rising storm. "Storm's coming on fast," he muttered tightly. Almost before he finished speaking, lightning flashed across the rocks behind them. "It's close now. Gotta put all my equipment back in the tent before it hits."
"Do you need help?"
"Yeah, but they're heavy for you. I'm running out of time."
"I'm sure Rudi will help." Brit headed across the camp where the Romeros sat, talking low. "Hey, Rudi! Jake needs your strong arms."
"What does he want?" Rudi asked, not budging.
"He has to carry those boxes back into the big tent before it rains."
"Sure, Rudi will haul stuff." Yolanda pushed Rudi's brawny shoulder. He gave her a menacing look and lumbered reluctantly in the direction of the stack of boxes. "He used to be real good at it. See if you can remember how to haul, honey," she taunted.
"I remember more about my past than you do," Rudi countered.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" she yelled.
"Whatever you think," he flung over his shoulder.
"Jerk!" Yolanda turned her back to him, and said to Brit, "I wonder how Frank is."
"I'm sure he knows the dangers of this kind of storm and will take cover."
Yolanda looked around uneasily. "I hate to admit it, but I'm really concerned about Frank. For some strange reason, I have bad vibes about his trip."
"What do you mean?" Brit frowned and gazed involuntarily in the direction that Frank had walked out of camp.
"Oh, I don't know. This sounds funny coming from me, but I just have a strange feeling about him taking off by himself."
"Good grief," Brit moaned. "Why didn't you mention it before he left?"
"What would I have said? 'Hey, Frank, I've got these vibes about your trip? Could you hold off a few days?" She pushed her dark hair behind one ear. "How sensible is that? Anyway, Rudi would laugh his head off at me. I've never done anything like that before."
Brit was angry at Yolanda's belated admission. "You might have warned him."
"I'm sure he wouldn't believe any kind of warning coming from me."
Brit, too, had been leery of Frank's solo journey. Now, Yolanda's confession stirred her anger. Something inside her snapped, and she just wanted to lash out at Yolanda. They all had a responsibility to each other, and that included Frank. They were all in this mess together. She challenged Yolanda's intentions. "What do you care about Frank, anyway?"
Yolanda's eyes widened and she returned sharply, "How do you know what I care about?"
"It's pretty obvious what you care about. Yourself! And only you!"
"Why, you little goody-two-shoes twit!" Yolanda shouted.
"You self-centered motor-mouth!" Brit yelled. "You, with all your complaining and threatening, practically pushed Frank down that path. And now, now that he's gone off by himself, you claim to care? Ha! Big deal!"
"I didn't push anybody to anything. Frank has a mind of his own. Besides, he got us into this mess, didn't
he? He should be the one to get us out."
"No! It was an accident! He couldn't help it."
"He even admitted guilt when he left."
"How can he be guilty or responsible for a malfunction? Of which you obviously know nothing."
Yolanda leaned her face close to Brit's. "There you go again, telling me what—"
A thick body squeezed between them, and Rudi's voice interrupted the women's verbal battle. "Hey, babe, what's going on here?"
Brit felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, whirling her around.
"I'm getting damn tired of this," Jake muttered. "Leave you alone for two minutes and you go for each other like two wildcats."
"She's so ... so-" Brit looked at Jake's stony face and her voice trailed to silence. "Oh, you wouldn't understand."
"What I don't understand is, why you?" he yelled above the whine of the wind. "The others are bad enough, but now, you, Brit! I just can't believe it."
She folded her arms across her chest. "Don't give me one of your college class lectures."
"It's going to rain buckets any minute and we're standing here, arguing." Jake grabbed both Yolanda's and Rudi's arms and asked, "Please, help me. We—you—can clear the air later. Right now, everything, including the camp kitchen, has to be stored in the big tent."
The wind pushed and pulled at them, whipping their hair and muffling their voices. In the frenzy of the moment, they had to forget the argument and work together. The storm wouldn't wait, and storing Jake's equipment was important. The task kept them busy, and they didn't have to face each other, which was fine with Brit. By the time huge cold drops of water started to fall, the tent was loaded again.
The wind was blowing so hard, it bent small trees to the ground. Jake pushed Yolanda and Rudi toward the large tent. "Any more room in there?"
"It's pretty crowded," Rudi said, assessing the cramped space. "We could all stand."
"The pup tent?" Brit yelled above the howl of the wind.
"Too risky! It's in the water path. How are you at climbing?" Before she could answer, he spoke to Rudi. "Hand me a blanket." Jake grabbed it and shoved it into Brit's hands. "Follow me!" he yelled above the wind's roar.
A Rare Breed Page 5
