Mountain Midwife

by Cassie Miles

  Fearful of probing more deeply, she changed the subject. “How long are you going to stand at the window?”

  He checked his wristwatch. “Another twenty minutes. There was a sign posted in the office—open until eleven. If they turn out the lights and go to bed, I reckon we’re safe until morning.”

  She finished off her chicken and retreated to the bathroom. Not the most modern of accommodations but the white tile and bland fixtures were clean. She shed Sarah Loughlin’s clothes, turned on the hot water and stepped into a bathtub with a blue plastic shower curtain.

  The steaming hot water felt good as it splashed into her face and sluiced down her body. Warmth spread through her, and the tension in her muscles began to unwind. She closed her eyes. The bonds of self-control loosened as she relaxed.

  Big mistake. As soon as she let her guard down, her mind filled with images she didn’t want to remember. Too many bad things had happened. They played in her head, one after another. Gruesome. Horrible. Sad.

  Her eyelids popped open. She tried to focus. Through the plastic shower curtain, the bathroom was a blur.

  When she held her hand in the shower spray, she imagined crimson blood oozing through her fingers. Frank’s blood when he lay on the floor of the ice cream parlor. The blood that came when Goldie was born. Penny’s blood when her life was taken.

  More blood would spill before this was over. They were getting closer to Baron. The threat was building. Danger squeezed her heart. Not Cole’s blood, she couldn’t bear to lose him. Not like that.

  A sob crawled up her throat, and she realized that she was crying. Her tears mingled with the hot, rushing water. If only she could wash her memory clean and erase her fears.

  Her knees buckled, and her hand slid down the white tile wall. With a gasp, she sat down in the bathtub. The shower pelted down on her. The steam clung to her pores.

  She heard the bathroom door open. Cole asked, “Are you all right?”

  Had she been weeping out loud? “I’m fine.”

  “The lights in the office are out.”

  “Great. Close the door.”

  She didn’t want him to see her vulnerability. So far, she’d done a pretty good impression of somebody who could keep it together no matter what. She didn’t want him to know that she was afraid. Or needy. That was the worst.

  He closed the door but didn’t leave the bathroom. “Rachel? Talk to me. You can say anything.”

  The tenderness in his voice cut through her like a knife. She doubled over into a ball with her head resting on her knees. “Go away.”

  He eased open the shower curtain. Humiliated by her weakness, she refused to look up at him.

  “It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re going to be okay.”

  He turned off the shower and draped a towel around her shoulders. The cool air made her shiver. She wanted to move, to pull herself together. But she couldn’t pretend that she was fine and dandy. She’d witnessed murders, had been attacked and pursued. Right now, it felt like too damn much to bear.

  “You need to get into bed,” Cole said as knelt on the floor beside the tub. “Under the covers where it’s warm.”

  “Leave me alone.”

  His arm circled her back. With a second towel, he dried her face. She batted his hands away.

  “Let me help you, Rachel. You’re always helping others. It’s your turn.” His low voice soothed her. “When you’re with a woman in labor, you guide her through the pain. That’s your job, and you’re good at it.”

  “So?”

  “This is my job. The violence. The lies. The fear. And the guilt. It’s not easy. If you take my hand, I can help you through it.”

  She allowed him to guide her into the bedroom, where she slipped between the sheets. Fully dressed except for his boots, he lay beside her and held her.

  Though she snuggled against him, she was afraid to close her eyes, fearful of the memories that might return in vivid color. How would she sleep tonight without nightmares?

  “I’ll tell you a story,” he said. “A long time ago, almost ten years, I went on my second undercover assignment. Shouldn’t have been complicated, but things went wrong. Some of it was my fault, my inexperience. Anyway, the situation turned dangerous. A man was killed and—”

  “Stop.” She shoved against his chest. “I really hope this isn’t your idea of a cozy bedtime story.”

  “There’s a happy ending,” he promised.

  “Get to it.” She ducked her head under the covers. Her hair was still wet from the shower and she was dripping on him and on the pillow.

  “After the assignment, I fell apart. Couldn’t sleep. Didn’t want to eat. Every loud noise sounded like gunfire. And there were flashbacks. I shed some tears, but mostly I was angry. Unreasonably angry.”

  “But you’re always so cool and controlled.”

  “I lost it. This little two-tone minivan stole my space in a parking lot, and I went nuts. Slammed on my brakes, grabbed my tire iron. I charged the van, ready to smash every window. Then I saw the driver—a petite lady with panic in her eyes. There were two toddlers in car seats.” He shuddered. “Probably scared those kids out of a year’s growth. I got back in my car and drove directly to a shrink.”

  “You got help.”

  “Yeah.” He pulled her closer. “Having a reaction to what you’ve been through in the past couple of days is natural. It’s all right to cry or yell.”

  Or curl up in a fetal position in the shower? She appreciated his attempt to let her know she wasn’t crazy, even though she still felt like a basket case. “When do we get to the good part of your story?”

  “Eventually, you learn to live with it.”

  “What kind of happy ending is that?” She drew back her head so she could look him in the eye. “I want sunshine and lollipops.”

  “The truth is better.”

  “That’s my line,” she said. “I’m the big stickler for the truth.”

  His mouth relaxed in a smile. “If you want to cry, go ahead. I understand. And if you want to hit somebody, I can take it.”

  “Are you sure about that? I hit pretty hard.”

  “There’s no need for you to put up a front, Rachel. You’re brave. You’re smart. There’s nobody I’d rather have for a partner.”

  As she gazed at him, she realized that she didn’t need to explode with tears or screams. She wanted him. To connect with him. To make love.

  When she leaned down to kiss him, she dared to close her eyes. She wasn’t afraid. Not right now.

  His caresses were gentle at first. He tweaked her earlobe and traced the line of her chin. His hand slid down her throat. He cupped her breast, teased the nub, lowered his head and tasted her.

  A powerful excitement crackled through her veins, erasing every other emotion. She was torn between the desperate need to have him inside her and a yearning to prolong their love-making for hours. Somewhere in between, they found the perfect rhythm. He scrambled out of his clothes and their naked bodies pressed together.

  This was the kind of happy ending she’d been looking for.

  WHEN SHE FIRST CAME TO BED, Rachel hadn’t thought she’d be able to sleep. The bloody culmination of everything that had happened to them haunted her, and she was afraid of the nightmares that might come.

  But after making love, her fears dissipated and exhaustion overwhelmed her. She had slipped into a state of quiet unconsciousness.

  She awakened gradually. Last night, she and Cole had once again made love without a condom. Her hand trailed down her body and rested on her flat stomach. Had his seed taken root inside her? Was she pregnant? Other women had told her that they knew the very moment of conception, but she didn’t feel any different.

  The thought of having a baby—Cole’s baby—made her smile. For her, it was the right time. Even if he wasn’t the right mate, even if she never saw him after Baron was in custody, she’d be glad finally to be a mother.

  She rolled over and reached ac
ross the sheets, needing to feel him beside her. But he was gone. “Cole? Cole, where are you?”

  “Here.”

  She saw him standing at the edge of the front window—his sentry position, where he kept an eye on the parking lot outside the motel. The thin light of early morning crept around the curtain and made an interesting highlight on his muscular chest.

  “What are you doing all the way over there?”

  He sauntered back to the bed and returned to his place beside her. When they touched, her heart fluttered. In spite of her independence, she never wanted to be apart from him.

  “I called Waxman,” he said.

  The last time he talked to his handler in Los Angeles, the man had thrown them under the bus, refusing to help and telling them to turn themselves in. “What did he say?”

  “He’s coming around.” His voice was bitter. “After working with me for years, it finally occurred to Waxman that he could trust me.”

  “That’s good news, right?”

  “Not entirely. Without solid evidence, there’s nothing Waxman can do about the local feds. Prescott is still running this circus.” He ruffled her hair. “Do you like road trips?”

  “It depends on where I’m going.”

  “California,” he said. “I want to pick up the loot from Jenna’s house, drive to Denver, get a rental car and go home, where Waxman can offer us real protection.”

  He wanted to take her home with him. She loved the idea. “I’m ready for a trip to the beach.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “In other developments,” said the TV anchorman on the early morning local news, “the police in Grand County are still on the lookout for two suspects in the Black Hawk casino robbery.”

  Cole groaned as his mug shot flashed on the motel room television screen.

  The anchorman continued, “If you see this man, contact the Grand County Sheriff’s Department. And now, let’s take a look at sports. The Nuggets…”

  Using the remote, Cole turned off the TV. Apparently, the manhunt was still active but didn’t rate headline status. He figured the Grand County cops were plenty busy, processing the crime scene at the Shadow Mountain Lake house and investigating Frank’s death—a murder that Prescott would undoubtedly try to pin on him.

  Rachel emerged from the bathroom looking fresh and pretty. He liked the way her wispy hair curled on her cheeks when it was damp. Her blue eyes were bright and clear. For the moment, she seemed to have recovered from last night’s meltdown, but he knew it would take more time for her to fully cope with the trauma of the past couple of days—trauma that was all his fault, one hundred percent. He’d kidnapped her and dragged her into this mess.

  Somehow, he had to make it better.

  She’d seemed pleased when he mentioned the road trip. While they were in California, he’d take real good care of her. They’d go for walks on the beach. Or surfing. Or a sailing trip. Or maybe they’d visit his brother. His nieces would love Rachel. He’d show her why living near the ocean was preferable to these damned mountains.

  She rubbed her index finger across her teeth. “I brushed with a washcloth and soap. Disgusting.”

  “As soon as we’re on the road, we’ll buy toothpaste.”

  “Or we could stop at my condo when we get to Granby. I actually own a toothbrush. Might even have a spare for you.”

  He pulled her close and gave her a kiss. Her mouth tasted like detergent, but he didn’t complain. “We can’t go to your condo. That’s the most obvious place for Prescott to arrange for surveillance. And the cops are still looking for us. I just saw my picture on TV.”

  “What about me? Was I on TV?”

  He shook his head. “No mug shot.”

  “I’m kind of surprised. When the sheriff’s men went to the Shadow Mountain Lake house, they must have found my van in the garage. They’ve got to know my identity.”

  “They might consider you a hostage.” He urged her toward the door. “When we’re on the road, you need to turn up your collar and wear the hat with earflaps to hide what you look like. Never can tell where traffic cams might be located.”

  He was glad to be driving away from the motel. Though the owner hadn’t recognized him last night, the guy might remember after seeing the photo on the news. And he might be suspicious if he noticed that Cole had transposed two digits on the license plate when he checked in. He hadn’t wanted to leave a record of Loughlin’s car being here; no point in getting Rachel’s friend in trouble.

  In the passenger seat, she stretched and yawned. “It’s early.”

  “Not a morning person?”

  “But I am,” she said. “I like to start the day with the sun. Look at that sunrise.”

  To the east, the sky was colored a soft pink that reminded him of the inside of a conch shell. Overhead, the dawn faded to blue with only a few clouds. The morning TV news program had said the weather throughout the state was clear.

  He wasn’t looking forward to returning to the mounds of snow left behind by the blizzard in Grand County. “How long do you think it’ll take us to get to Granby?”

  “A couple of hours,” she said. “Jenna probably leaves for school around nine. We’ll get there a little after that.”

  Morning was a busy time in most neighborhoods with people going to work and getting started with their day. Since they were going to break into Jenna’s house, he preferred to wait until after ten when people had settled into their routines. “We’ve got about an hour to kill.”

  “What should we do?”

  “Lay low.” On the road, they risked being seen on cameras. If he went into a diner or a store, he might be recognized.

  “My picture wasn’t on TV,” she said. “Pull into the next store that’s open, I’ll run inside and get supplies. Then we find someplace secluded and park until it’s time to go.”

  As good a plan as any.

  After a quick stop in Nederland at a convenience store, he left the main road and drove to a secluded overlook that caught the morning sun. One positive about the mountains: it was never hard to find solitude.

  Rachel passed him a coffee cup and opened her car door.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Come with me.”

  Grumbling, he unfastened his seat belt and left the warmth of the car. The mountain air held a sharp chill, but he couldn’t retreat without looking like a whiner. At least, there wasn’t much snow—only pockets of white in the shadows.

  He followed her as she climbed onto a flat granite rock and walked to the edge. Stepping up beside her, he took a sip of his hot, black coffee.

  She inhaled the cold air and smiled as she looked down from their vantage point. The sun warmed her face. She was beautiful, at peace with herself and the world. No hidden motives roiled inside her. Seldom had he known anyone who lived with such honesty. When Rachel was scared, her fear came from a natural response to a threat. When she laughed, she was truly amused. The woman spoke her mind.

  Being with her was the best time he’d had in his life.

  Resting his arm on her shoulder, he accepted her vision. Jagged, rocky hillsides filled with trees spread before them. They could see for miles. Sunlight glistened on distant peaks that thrust into the blue sky. Her mountains. Beautiful.

  Rachel leaned her back against his chest as she drank her coffee. She said nothing, and he appreciated her silence. No need for words. The experience was enough.

  In this moment, he knew. There was no denying the way he felt. He loved this woman.

  BEFORE THEY HEADED INTO the high country, Cole needed to make one more phone call. There was, after all, the possibility that they ought to go to Denver instead of Granby. He’d been operating under the theory that Jenna Cambridge was Baron’s secretary, but there was another woman in the picture.

  He leaned against the driver’s side door and punched numbers into his cell phone. She answered on the fourth ring.

  “Hello, Pearl,” he said. “How are you do
ing?”

  “Dog tired. I forgot how much work it was to take care of an infant. Goldie was up twice last night for feedings. If she wasn’t the most adorable creature in the whole world, I’d be really mad at her.”

  “We had some trouble at Lily Belle’s.” His vast understatement didn’t begin to describe Frank’s attack on them and his murder. “The feds might try to contact you.”

  “Well then, I’m not going to answer the phone unless it’s you. Nobody knows where I’m staying.”

  “It’s smart to keep it that way.”

  Her instinct to avoid law enforcement reassured him. If Pearl had been Baron’s secretary, she’d know about the traitor in the FBI, and she’d use that contact to keep herself out of trouble.

  “I miss Penny.” Pearl’s voice cracked at the edge of a sob. “I keep telling myself that she’s an angel in Heaven, looking down and smiling. But she’s not here. It’s not fair.”

  “It’s not,” he agreed.

  “You said you’d get the man responsible for my daughter’s murder. I’m holding you to that promise.”

  He wanted nothing more than to see Baron pay for his crimes. “I need to ask you about the last time you saw Penny in Black Hawk. Was there a woman with her?”

  “Not that I noticed. That big thug was hanging around, but nobody else.”

  “What casino were you at?”

  “The Stampede. That’s the one that got robbed.”

  Though Cole didn’t think Xavier’s description matched Pearl, he had to ask about the engagement diamond. “Were you wearing any jewelry?”

  “I always wear jewelry. It’s free advertising for the stuff I design. But I don’t recall what I had on. A couple of rings, some earrings.”

  “A diamond?”

  “Definitely not. I don’t use precious gems in my designs.”

  He switched topics. “Have you ever noticed Jenna wearing an engagement ring?”

  “Jenna.” She growled the name. “That girl isn’t married and is never likely to be. She called me last night, and demanded to know why I hadn’t come to her house with the baby. Let me tell you, I gave her a piece of my mind. She should have told me about the older man Penny was dating.”