Sabotaged

by Dani Pettrey

  He shifted in the dwindling firelight, the darkness closing in on them.

  Kirra sat a dozen feet away, her knees hugged once again to her chest, her hood draped over her head.

  “The fire’s not going to last.” The cold was already swallowing its warmth.

  “We’ll have daylight in a few hours.”

  “A few hours is more than enough time for frostbite or hypothermia to take hold.”

  “So what do you suggest?”

  “Body heat.”

  “Nice try.”

  “You really think I’d try to make a play on you—and under these circumstances?”

  She gave him an are-you-kidding-me look.

  “Fair enough.” The old him would have in a heartbeat, but he was working hard at being a gentleman. “But that’s not what this is. We need to conserve our body heat.” He held out his arm. “Come here.”

  She hesitated.

  Was he that repulsive to her? “No funny business. I promise.”

  After another moment’s hesitation, she stood and moved to his side.

  “Come on. I don’t bite.” He tugged her to his good side, pulling her close.

  She stiffened.

  “Relax.”

  “I’ve heard that one before.”

  He arched a brow.

  “Never mind.”

  Ethan entered the cabin along with a frigid blast of wind. He kicked the door shut behind him, rubbing his arms.

  “What’s the word?” Gage asked.

  “Frank Jacobs hasn’t checked in.”

  “We need to contact Finger Lake and see when he checked out.”

  “On it,” Xander said. “I’m sure they’re going to appreciate the middle-of-the-night call, especially since all mushers have no doubt at least arrived at that checkpoint.”

  Gage laid out the grid map of the area.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Ben sat on the corner of the desk. “You know I’m not sending you out in this. It’s suicide. Wait until the storm passes and we have daylight, and I’ll send one of the air force to take a scan.”

  The Iditarod air force, as it was called, consisted of a dozen single-engine planes manned by expert bushmen who volunteered their time to help fly in supplies and pick up dropped dogs or seriously injured mushers. They also helped with searches and sweeping.

  “We’ve still got two hours until sunrise. They could freeze to death in that time.”

  Kirra lay gingerly beside Reef, trying not to enjoy the feel of his embrace, but it was a lost cause. She hadn’t been held like this since before William, hadn’t allowed herself to be close to any man, not like this, since William had . . .

  She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping doing so would keep the nightmares, the gnawing fear that returned whenever she thought of William, at bay. This was Reef, not William, and he was only trying to help. He felt good. He smelled good—like evergreens and a crisp winter day. The dwindling fire crackled at her feet, Reef’s body heat warming her. She was tired, but relaxing to the point of sleep seemed impossible—not while in a man’s arms.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Fine. Why?”

  “You’re awfully tense. Like I said, I won’t bite.”

  She tried laughing it off. “I know. I just . . .”

  He brushed back her hair from her face, careful to keep her hat in place. “You just what?”

  “Will feel better when we’re safely back at the checkpoint.” And around other people. Not that she believed Reef would do anything—but then again, William had been the last person she’d expected to . . .

  “There you go. Tensing up again. Do I really make you that uncomfortable?”

  She heard the hurt in his words. “No. It’s just awkward.”

  “Because it’s me?”

  She arched back to look at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I know how you felt about me when we were growing up. I guess that hasn’t changed much.”

  No. His sister was right. He clearly was different. He was changing, growing, maturing. And, truth be told, there’d always been a part of her that had been drawn to Reef McKenna. Something about a moth to a flame. It was dangerous, but magnetic. In the past she’d been smart enough to keep her distance, to not pursue that attraction, but now . . . ?

  Her attraction for him was only growing, and this time, frighteningly enough, strong feelings were growing right along with it.

  “Gage, calm down,” Darcy said.

  “How can I calm down when my brother is out there?”

  “You don’t have a choice until the sun’s up.”

  “I can go on foot.”

  “And how is that going to help them? If anything, it’ll just give SAR one more person to search for, taking away some of the concentration on finding them. We only have a couple more hours.”

  “Why didn’t he take a sat phone? Why leave in such a hurry? Why not wake anyone else up?”

  “Probably because they knew Ben wouldn’t approve the search, and I’m betting Kirra was deadset on finding her uncle.”

  “And Reef?”

  “Probably saw her going and refused to let her go alone.”

  “I’m sure that went over well.”

  Ethan and Xander stepped back into the room.

  Gage turned. “Any word?” The two men had been on the line with anyone and everyone who might have spotted Frank, or Reef and Kirra.

  Ethan shook his head. “No sign of any of them. I’m sorry, Gage.”

  Reef reveled in the feel of Kirra in his arms, even if she remained stiff. It didn’t take too long for her head to bob as she finally drifted off. Within a few minutes she was completely out. Slowly the tension eased from her body, and she swayed into him, her limbs limp. A soft purr escaped her lips as she snuggled deeper into his hold. He remained perfectly still, terrified that if he moved, he’d break the moment. She felt incredible, and even more frightening . . . right. He’d held a lot of women in his arms, but none had ever felt like Kirra did right now—a perfect fit.

  She murmured, her silky hair caressing his stubbled neck as she nuzzled into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

  Her breathing was rhythmic, her eyes fluttering in a dream. The smile on her lips said it was a good one. She shifted on a sigh, another murmur escaping her lips.

  “Reef,” she said sleepily, her eyes still shut and fluttering.

  He was terrified to speak and ruin the moment, so he released a soft sound of affirmation. She tilted her head upward, toward his lips, and knowing better, he lowered his to hers. Her mouth opened, inviting him in. Slowly, passionately, she kissed him—a million sensations ricocheting through him.

  She pulled back on a satisfied sigh, her head resting in the crook of his neck, her breathing once again rhythmic and deep in slumber.

  He sat there, shock and endorphins warring for purchase of his body and mind. Man, am I in trouble.

  He braced for the wrath to come.

  “What happened?”

  Clearing his throat, he held the satellite phone close to his face, the storm still raging around him. “I lost them.”

  “How?”

  “They ran, but I hit the guy.”

  “So you’re saying you managed to let an injured man get away?”

  “The wilderness is huge, and they clearly know their way around this area.”

  “And Frank?”

  “They swore he didn’t tell them anything.”

  “Of course they did.”

  “I think they were telling the truth.”

  “Okay, even if they were . . . your threatening them at gunpoint is going to raise their suspicions. Even if he didn’t tell them anything, because of your actions, now they know something’s going on.”

  “You told me to make sure Frank didn’t talk to anyone, especially the girl.”

  “And I told you to make sure to take care of her if he did.”

  “I tried. I wounded the man.”

 
; “The man’s inconsequential. It’s Kirra Jacobs we have to worry about. If she figures out what’s going on. If she interferes . . .”

  “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “See that you do, or this entire venture could be compromised.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” He grunted. “How’s Meg?”

  “Cooperating just fine.”

  4

  ROUGHLY 20 MILES OUTSIDE OF RAINY PASS

  MARCH 10, 8:03 A.M.

  Kirra stirred, half awake. She felt warm and protected. She’d had a delicious dream—it danced on the tip of her lips. She blinked, opening her eyes and surveying her surroundings. It took a moment for her memory to jog. She was in a cave. And a man with a gun had shot at them. Then she’d lain in Reef’s arms and . . .

  She swallowed. Reef’s lips had been pressed to hers.

  She bolted upright, jarring Reef in the process, and scrambled to her feet. Turning her flashlight on, she shone it in his face.

  “Whoa! Easy there,” he said, his wide eyes so blue, with such dark lashes. “You all right?”

  She straightened her jacket, zipping it the fraction of the inch it had slipped down. “Fine. We should be going.”

  “Is it daylight?”

  She looked in the direction of the cave’s opening, seeing a sliver of light breaking the darkness of the cave. “Yes. Let’s get going. I fear we’ve got quite the hike before us.” No way the man had left their snowmobile intact. Not unless he was waiting nearby, using the machine as a trap to pounce once they returned.

  “Okay.” Reef shifted, slowly lumbering to his feet. “Give me a minute.”

  She bit her bottom lip at his tenuous movements. “How’s the wound?”

  “A little sore, but no big deal.”

  She wasn’t so sure.

  He straightened and readjusted his outerwear.

  “Are you going to be all right to walk?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  It was roughly a twenty-mile hike back to the Rainy Pass checkpoint. On flat terrain and on a good day, they could make it in under five hours. With the storm conditions and the most rugged terrain of the Iditarod race fixed between them and Rainy Pass, not to mention Reef’s injury, it could easily take until nightfall for them to reach shelter. And, they wouldn’t survive another night out in the elements. Not without proper gear. They had to make it back to the checkpoint before nightfall.

  Leading the way back outside, relief filled Kirra as the vast openness of wilderness stretched before them. The storm had halted for the time being, and sunlight poked through the dark clouds brewing overhead. It lit the snow with a beautiful orange hue. The crisp, frigid air bit at their exposed skin, and they both yanked their hoods over their heads, tightening them around their faces, attempting to block out the stinging wind.

  Reef’s breath danced in the morning air, creeping out from his hood in a swirl of smokelike appearance. “I’m guessing we’re still at close to ten below.”

  “Should we risk seeing if our snowmobile is still working?”

  “I think we should at least scope it out.”

  “What if the man’s waiting for us?”

  “If the snowmobile’s still there and not visibly disabled, we can assess from a distance before we approach. I think it’s worth a look. It would save us hours.”

  She nodded, unsure but willing to give it a shot. “I don’t think hiking back up the way we fell down is the wisest choice.” They’d tumbled down some of the roughest terrain in the area, the jagged formations a serious antonym to their name—Happy Steps. There was nothing happy about them. “I think we need to track back and come up around from the east, like we originally came. If the man is watching, I doubt he’ll expect us to come from that direction.”

  “Good plan.”

  He shifted in the snow. Squatting for hours was taking its toll.

  Forget it.

  He stood, shaking the snow off his boots. “This is a waste of time. I’m telling you, they couldn’t have survived stranded out here all night with no equipment.”

  Bruce maintained position. “He said we had to be certain.”

  “How long does he expect us to stay out here? This isn’t where our focus should be.”

  “If they survived, they could compromise our entire operation.”

  “And Frank? You’re supposed to be watching him. How do we even know he’s following orders? Staying on track?”

  “Our man inside has got that covered. He knows exactly what’s going on and where everyone is.”

  Kirra led the way back around to where they’d left the snowmobile. To Reef’s surprise, it was right where they’d left it.

  He pulled Kirra down behind a giant spruce. “I think you were right. He’s watching.” Crouching, Reef scanned the trees surrounding them.

  “What do we do?”

  He debated the risk and closed his eyes in prayer.

  Please, Father, help me know what to do. Should I go check the snowmobile or should we head back on foot? Please guide me so I can lead Kirra safely back.

  “Reef?” She nudged his arm. “You all right?”

  “Just praying for guidance.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh.”

  He scanned the tree line again, a knot tightening in his gut.

  “And?”

  “I think we need to head back on foot.” It’d take them hours longer, but if he moved for the snowmobile and the man was watching, he’d be shot before he could reach it, and then Kirra would be on her own. He couldn’t let that happen. He’d see her back to safety.

  Kirra shifted to look him directly in the eyes. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right for the hike?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “All right, let’s hit the trail.” She started to move.

  He halted her. “No. Sticking to the trail is too dangerous. He could be watching it. We’re going to have to stay off the race trail.”

  “But the snow could be up to our waists off trail.”

  “If we want to make it back safely, it’s the wisest course.”

  “Don’t you think Ben and the rest of the crew have figured out we’re missing by now? Don’t you think they’ll come looking for us?”

  “Probably, but who knows which direction they’ll even search? And most if not all of the mushers are already headed on to Rohn. They’ve got to move forward with the race.”

  She nodded, obviously letting that sink in.

  He grasped her gloved hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll make it back, and then we’ll regroup and find Frank.”

  “And Meg.”

  He swallowed, praying she was right. “And Meg.”

  Hours had passed, and he was done. “I’m outta here.”

  “But he said—”

  “I know what he said, Bruce, but I’m not spending days out here waiting for two dead people to show.”

  “You can’t be positive they’re dead.”

  “No, but waiting here isn’t doing any good. I’m a man of action, not patience. You should know that by now.”

  “So what do you suggest?”

  “Instead of sitting here freezing our bums off, I suggest we start sweeping the area between here and the checkpoint. If they miraculously survived, it won’t be for long.”

  Time evaporated in the white desolation surrounding them, the flakes falling with fury once again.

  Numbness rendered Reef’s feet nearly useless. He was still moving, but not sure how. He’d lost all feeling from his knees down.

  Kirra was a trooper, trudging on ahead, icicles dangling from the furry ridge of her hat and hair that poked free. Her movements were thick, her stride tin-man-like. Frostbite was nipping at them both.

  “We should walk together,” he said.

  She turned, what he could see of her forehead pinching. “We are.”

  “No.” He shook his head and tugged her into his embrace. “Closer. We’re losing too much body heat.”
r />   “I don’t think—”

  “Trust me.” She fit perfectly against him. “It’s necessary.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she huddled fully against his left side, molding her curves along the slope of his torso. It took a few practice steps, but soon they moved forward in unison—their labored steps somehow easier when taken together.

  They sunk in the snow, the white powder cresting Reef’s thighs and Kirra’s waist. Trudging, they continued on.

  Snow lashed Gage’s face as he whirred through the white mass ahead. Ben had given him the okay to search for Reef and Kirra, but after finding their snowmobile abandoned, his fear grew. Something was very wrong.

  Darcy’s arms wrapped tight around him. He wished she’d stayed at the checkpoint, but trying to force Darcy to stay behind when someone was in trouble was like trying to make a bull a house pet. While he loved her determination to help others, he wished she gave a fraction of the same concern to her own safety.

  He crested the next step, the snowmobile tilting. When he leaned hard right, Darcy followed suit. Fortunately she’d spent enough time on the back of his sports bike to understand how to move with the turns.

  He tightened his grip on the handles. Where are you, Reef?

  Reef guided Kirra toward the trail. Numbness now consumed his legs, his limbs feeling like tree stumps—heavy and clumsy. Kirra teetered with each step beside him. They needed to get out of the snowdrift, and the only way out was to move to the trail. It was risky, but they couldn’t continue on like this. They stepped from the snow onto the trail, and Kirra’s leg caught on a sled rut, flailing her forward. His tight hold kept her from hitting the ground, but it took a moment to get her mostly upright. A whimper escaped her lips as she planted her feet on the ground and shifted clumsily to take the weight off her right foot.

  “You okay?”

  “Just twisted my ankle. I’m fine.”

  The pain etched on her pale face said otherwise. A face that was too pale and slightly puffy. Hypothermia was setting in. They needed to reach the shelter and soon.