Guarding Gaby

by Jean Brashear

  She closed her eyes. “That’s where he went when he locked me in my room. But how did he know?”

  “Sheriff Anderson. He had a man on me.”

  “What—what happened?”

  Eli laughed, but it was hollow. “It should have been funny. Here I was, all set to give you up, but he beat me to the punch, telling me I had to leave you for a different reason, but one just as good.”

  “Which was?”

  He shook his head. “You’d be better off not knowing.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  He drew a deep breath. “This won’t be easy to hear, Gaby.”

  “Eli, don’t coddle me. Just spit it out.”

  He smiled then. “You always did have the courage of ten men.” The smile vanished. “Sweetheart, your father was in on it. The smuggling.”

  “No!” She leaped to her feet. “No. He would never—”

  Eli rose more slowly. “Listen to me. He wasn’t a bad man. He never intended to be part of it, but he got trapped. They’d been using his land, that southwest corner that was always tough to fence, as part of their route before he ever knew it—but that wouldn’t protect him from federal statutes that would seize his land if they were ever caught. And the ranch was struggling, so the money was welcome. Soon he was in too deep to get out, and when he tried once, Bill Anderson used you as leverage. So your father asked me to leave you alone to protect you.”

  Eli paced. “I guess I’d been clinging to a secret hope that we could be together, however impossible I knew that was. I never understood the term heartbreak until mine did.”

  “Oh, Eli…I wish—”

  His expression was grim. “I did leave you a note, though. I needed to see you one last time. Wanted to know you didn’t believe what they said of me, so I asked you to meet me. Hung around for two days after the fire, even though the sheriff had men everywhere looking for me.

  “But when you didn’t show, I understood that it was over, that you’d finally gotten wise that we had no future.” He shrugged. “It was for the best.”

  “I never found a message. I checked everywhere, but you’d just…vanished. Without one word. I was devastated, and all along you’d—Oh, Eli—” Her throat clogged with tears.

  “I guess the sheriff found it. Or maybe your father or—”

  They stared at each other across the chasm of nine long years that never had to happen. The pain of it was crushing.

  “I would have come,” she whispered.

  His gaze was ravaged. “I barely escaped and only with the aid of Juanita. I left and headed west and—” He splayed the fingers of one hand.

  So much to take in. Then one question rose above the others. “So why did you come back?”

  “Your father. He sent word through Juanita that he had information that would free him and clear me. But he needed my help.”

  “What information?”

  “I don’t know, exactly. We only met once, and he was very cautious. I guess he decided he could trust me because he sent word to meet him again, but—” He didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to.

  “He died. In another fire.”

  “Yeah.” She pondered what she’d heard. “So why did you stay this time?”

  “I have to. As I said, I’m tired of running. I’ve traveled all over the world, doing the Hot Spot Journal, and I’m tired of wars and famine and people starving. I want a home.”

  “Hot Spot?” She couldn’t believe her ears. “The internet journal, the guy who goes to all the dangerous places, that’s you? You’re…Max?” She glanced over. “The laptop with the solar charger. The camera.” She was stunned, to put it mildly.

  She’d read the journal herself, riveted, as many people were, by the manner in which the reporter—who was never seen on camera—brought to life the realities behind the headlines. How he put a human face on suffering, from Darfur to Iraq to Indonesia.

  He’d been injured once, severely enough that his dispatches had gone missing for days—

  “Where?” she whispered. “In the Sudan, where was the wound?” She extended her fingers as though she could somehow heal him.

  He shrugged. “My side.”

  “Show me.”

  “It’s not important.”

  “It is to me.” She glanced up at him, her eyes swimming. “Max just…vanished. For days and days. People were worried.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “I was worried—about a man I didn’t even know.” She stared at him. “But I did, didn’t I? I kept asking myself why I had to check for dispatches every day when I turned on my computer. It wasn’t like me, not a bit. Not my thing at all, but—” She bit her lip. “It was you. Oh, Eli, how much time we’ve lost—” She bowed her head and swiped at her tears, aching for every day they’d been apart.

  He gathered her in. “Sh-h, sweetheart.” He rocked her slowly, his body warm against hers.

  She burrowed into his chest and gripped his shirt. “Everything changed when you left. I parted from my father with bitter words between us. The girl I once was couldn’t survive after losing you—” She lifted her face to his. “I was all alone and scared to death. To survive, I had to become someone else.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart, so sorry. I wish—” His gaze, dark with torment, dipped to her lips. His head bent to hers—

  She closed the gap, pressing her mouth to his, opening to him and inviting him inside, needing so very badly to find that piece of her soul that had been missing so long.

  His response was instant and electric. His arm banded her, drew her in so tightly that they breathed the same air, felt the beat of the other’s heart. Time ceased to have meaning in that sacred space they’d once inhabited so freely together, as if it would last forever.

  Gaby stood on tiptoe to get closer, wishing she could crawl inside him, wind herself so tightly they would never be parted again—

  She bumped his other arm, and his quick gasp brought her back to the world. She leaped away. “Oh, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “I’m all right.” He reached for her.

  She moved back, but only one step. “You’re hurt. Badly.”

  “Not that badly. Come here.”

  “Are you insane?” The strain of past days caught up with her then. “Do you have a death wish, Eli?” Fury trampled over her yearning. “What are you doing, traveling the world, coming here, risking getting yourself killed—” She flung out an arm.

  “Gaby.” He grasped her hand. She was stiff at first, but patiently, relentlessly, he reeled her in. “Lie down with me,” he murmured.

  One quick shake of her head.

  “Please.”

  “I’m—” Her chest was heaving. One tear trickled down. “I’m scared.”

  “I’ll keep you safe.”

  Her head jerked upward, her eyes blazing. “Not frightened for me, you jerk.” She smacked his chest with the heel of her hand. “For you!”

  He couldn’t help himself. He started laughing.

  “Don’t you dare make fun of me—”

  He drew her back against him. “I’m not, I swear. It’s only—” When she went rigid with indignation, he buried his face in her hair. “You mistake delight for ridicule.” He nuzzled her ear. “No one’s ever taken my side but you. I’d forgotten how wonderful it is.”

  She softened against him. Slipped her arms around him and squeezed.

  He nudged at her until she’d tipped her face to him. “I am tired,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to let you go. Will you lie down with me? I need to hold you.”

  He settled on the sleeping bag, but he never let go of her hand. Then, when she lay beside him, he rolled her until she was draped over his good left side.

  A deep sigh escaped him. “I want to make love to you, Gaby, so badly I ache. But I want to make it perfect for you, and right now—”

  She pressed two fingers over his lips. “This is perfect. We’re here. Together.”

  He gave her a smile. “Only the sma
ll matter of some armed men who’d like to kill me plus a few parts of my body that don’t work so good.”

  Hers was the secret smile of a sorceress. “I can feel one that’s working just fine.”

  Maddeningly, she was right. “Maybe…if you’d do the work.”

  “And risk tearing my needlework?” She shook her head. “I could never go through that again.”

  He studied her. “You would, though. If you had to. You’re that strong. That fierce.” He smiled. “That sweet.”

  “You’re the only person—” Her voice was nearly a whisper. “—Who’s ever really known me.”

  He pressed her back against him. “‘Speech is not the only means of understanding between two souls.’”

  Her head rose again, her eyes wide as she recognized the quote from Kahlil Gibran. “There is something greater and purer than what the mouth utters. Silence—”

  “‘—illuminates our souls, whispers to our hearts and brings them together.’” He joined his voice to hers.

  She cast her eyes down. “I have to apologize. Before I found you, I snooped. You still have the book.”

  “It’s been all over the globe with me.”

  “Oh, Eli…” She blinked away fresh tears.

  “Sh-h, sweet.” He cradled his good hand at the back of her head and drew her into another kiss, this time more longing than heat. Then he used his thumb to brush at the drops. “Right now, I would run again, if you would go with me.”

  But she knew to leave this unfinished would haunt him. “No. I would never ask it of you.” The dark circles beneath his eyes worried her. “We have hours left before dawn. Sleep, love.”

  “If you’ll sleep with me. I dreamed of that often, what that would be like, to share a bed with you. After making love to you until neither of us could walk, having you beside me all night was my second wish.”

  “We’ll take a raincheck on wish one.” Propped on one elbow, she stroked his eyebrow with one finger. She reached past him and lowered the lantern’s glow, then snuggled into him. “I was never afraid of the dark when I was with you,” she murmured as his big body relaxed.

  “‘If darkness hides the trees and flowers from our eyes,’” he quoted sleepily “It will not hide love from our hearts.’”

  Gaby remained awake as long as she could manage, feeling the need to watch over him on this one, precious, free night. Tomorrow could bring anything, but at this moment, they were together, something she’d never thought to experience again.

  Whatever was required to give them that chance to join their bodies as their hearts had long been bound, she would do it. After years of existing, she once more felt completely alive. Frightened, yes, and uncertain about what they might face, but—

  Together, she thought as she drifted off. Home.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Gaby—” The urgency in his voice woke her. “Gaby, wake up. We have to go.”

  Gaby sat up, blinking against the light. “What?” She frowned. “We?”

  “I can’t let you keep taking such risks, traveling back and forth.” He’d already shouldered a pack over his good arm. His limp was gone.

  But he still looked pale and strained. “Eli, it’s too dangerous for you to leave here. Not yet.”

  “I’ve been thinking. I want us in the same location. Too many things could go wrong. We should leave before dawn catches us.”

  So businesslike. After last night, she’d thought—

  “If, that is, the offer of the cellar still holds.”

  She forced herself to become the same. “Of course it does. But what’s the plan?”

  “Your father had hidden away documents, he told me that much. We have to find them. And two nights from now, I’m going smuggler hunting.”

  “Eli, you ought to be in a hospital. You can’t—”

  He rushed right past her protest, handing her the pack she’d brought in. “I’d carry this, too, but I don’t want my weapon hand compromised.”

  She lifted her pack. “It’s too light. Give me more.” She could see that his was stuffed full.

  “I’m fine.” He slipped on a pair of goggles but kept the eye cups turned upward. “Douse the lantern, then grab my hand. I’ll need a minute for my eyes to adjust.”

  “What are those?”

  “Night vision goggles.”

  “Where do you get all this military stuff?”

  “Kill the light.”

  The tender man who’d held her seemed to have vanished. “I am not one of your troops.”

  One quick grin. “That’s pretty obvious. I’ve never been in the military, but if you’ve read Hot Spot, you know I’ve spent a lot of time in the field, occasionally traveling with covert forces. I paid attention. Learned all I could.” He paused in checking the weapon she’d just realized was holstered at his hip. “So I’ve got much better tools than when I was a kid.”

  He was all warrior now, a harder version of the elusive boy who trusted no one.

  But her, she reminded herself. And she’d trusted him. That he was set on his course was obvious. If she wanted a chance to see what they could be together, they had to get past this situation.

  “Eli, we have to talk.”

  “Not now.”

  “Yes, now. I have a key. From my father.”

  His attention was all on her. “What kind?”

  “Safe deposit box, maybe. I don’t know which bank. I found it in my father’s things.”

  “Were you planning to tell me?”

  “Of course.”

  “When? After you’d stuck your neck out to see where it went?”

  “We’ve been a little busy. And you weren’t in any condition to help me look.”

  His stiff shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Always my guardian angel, aren’t you?” But his stare was deadly sober. “You’re a smart woman, Gaby, and brave as hell, but you’re out of your world now. If we’re going to make it through this alive, you have to stop charging out there solo.”

  “You mean, act like a team? The way you’re so good at?”

  He was silent for a minute. Then he grinned again. “Guess I have get up to speed on the new Gaby.”

  “Yes.” She lifted her eyebrows. “You do.” Then she relented. “But I see your point. I am a fish out of water. I promise to listen to your advice.”

  “Good choice.”

  “As long as you agree to keep me apprised and let me help more than you want me to.”

  He ran his tongue over his teeth. “But probably less than you’d like.”

  “Tough case, aren’t you, Max?”

  “Yeah.” He paused. “City Slicker.”

  She couldn’t help laughing. “Okay, smart aleck. Lights out.”

  The darkness was sudden and complete.

  Then she felt his hand grasp hers and draw her forward. Everything felt safe again.

  “Hang onto my belt, so my hand will be free,” he whispered. “And don’t speak, not even softly. If it absolutely can’t wait, tug my belt twice, then put your lips right next to my ear.” He bent and demonstrated. “Like this.” His voice was nearly soundless, but she understood every word. “Walk in my steps as much as you can, and trail this branch behind you to obscure our tracks.”

  He handed her a small tree branch. “We’ll have to move a little slower. These things screw up your depth perception, and it’s easy to lose your balance. When we get to your place, we’ll stay in the grove of mesquites until I can be sure no one’s watching. Got it?”

  She nodded, then realized he was waiting for her to demonstrate her understanding. She stood on tiptoe and placed her lips on his ear. “Got it.”

  He nodded. Turned his mouth to her ear. “Let’s go.”

  And swiped his tongue over her lobe, shooting her straight from worry to instant lust.

  She couldn’t help her gasp.

  He bit the lobe lightly, then soothed with his tongue once more, trailing his mouth down her throat. “Quiet, I said.”
>
  She wasn’t exactly sure how he managed the laughter she felt more than heard.

  But before she got a chance for revenge, he tugged her into motion.

  Worn out after one lousy mile, Eli thought with disgust. He would never have believed it. Some days in the bush, he’d covered thirty, forty miles without ever taxing his wind.

  He swept the ground before him with his infrared flashlight, its light on a spectrum invisible to anyone not also wearing night vision lenses. Normally, he wouldn’t need the flashlight for this short, familiar span, but he was escorting precious cargo. He couldn’t risk a misstep that might injure either of them.

  She was right, of course. He had no business stirring just yet. There was no choice, though. If she wouldn’t leave town, he couldn’t operate freely for the need to watch over her. Say what she might about being a team, she was out of her element, even if he were willing to expose her to danger.

  Which he wasn’t. She’d already dared too much.

  He wished to hell she’d just go. Then he laughed at himself silently. After feeling that sweet body along his, after tasting her kiss again, he wanted to see her walk out of his life?

  Hell, no. To pick up where they’d left off was impossible—both of them had changed too much. Though the draw between them was powerful, their worlds were incompatible. He was no better choice than before. From earliest memory, he’d had no experience with the life that most people called normal. Once back in a sane existence, she’d see him for what he really was, a man who’d never found a place to stand still, to plant roots and let them grow deep.

  Except here, with her. In this spot Gaby had spent her whole life desperate to flee.

  His internet journal barely paid his travel expenses, but money had never mattered much to him. He owned little more than what he carried on his back.

  He’d seen most of the world, however, many astounding and incredible sights. So much of its misery.

  And he was tired.

  Not a great bargain, was he, all in all. He should finish this and escort her back to the life she’d been meant to live.

  But everything in him rebelled at the very idea of saying goodbye again. Not that he had the first time, except in his agonized heart.