by Cindi Myers
“Are you ready?” Travis extended his hand.
She took it and let him pull her to her feet. “Probably not,” she said. “But sitting here longer isn’t going to make me any more ready.”
He handed her the stout walking stick she had been using since they had come down off the mountain. “Use this to steady yourself on the way down. If you feel your feet slipping out from under you, sit down right away.”
“I’ll do that. And pray. A lot.”
“That’s a good idea, too.”
They set out, picking their way down the narrow, steep path. A chill breeze buffeted them, but Leah scarcely noticed, she was focused so intently on placing each step.
In front of her, Travis froze. “What is it?” she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.
“Look.” He pointed and she shifted her gaze some distance ahead of them and to the right. Her breath caught as she stared at a large black bear making its way down to the water, two chubby cubs ambling along after her. The cubs batted at each other and tumbled around their mother’s feet. The mother hefted her big body over rocks and around tree trunks, looking back to check on the twins from time to time.
“She doesn’t know we’re here,” Leah whispered.
“We’re downwind from her.”
“The babies are adorable, but I’m just as glad we didn’t meet them in the woods.”
“Me, too.” He turned his attention away from the bears to her. Moonlight softened and shadowed his features, like a smudged charcoal portrait. “How are you doing?”
“Okay,” she said. “The climb down isn’t as bad as I feared. The mountain was worse.” She glanced toward the river. The rushing current had provided the background noise for much of their day, but the sound was louder now, and the moonlight cast an eerie glow over the foaming rapids. How were they ever going to get across that?
As if reading her mind, Travis said, “We’ll walk upstream a ways, and cross where the current isn’t as swift.”
“I hope Duane and his men aren’t watching us.” She shivered at the thought.
“If they were, we would have heard from them by now.”
“I guess when it comes to Duane and his buddies, no news really is good news.”
They continued down the slope. The mother bear and her cubs reached the river, then meandered downstream. “Maybe she’s looking for a better place to cross, too,” Leah said.
“Maybe she is.”
They reached the narrow strip of gravel beside the water. The sound was much louder here, so that they had to raise their voices to talk over it. “Which way do we go?” she asked.
“I think I saw calmer water downstream.”
If not for the danger, this would have been a romantic scene, strolling in the light of the full moon along the riverbank, silvery cliffs towering overhead, silvery water dancing alongside. The rapids gave way to a smoother, though wider and possibly deeper stretch of water. “I think this is the place,” Travis said. He slipped off the pack and began unbuttoning his shirt.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“It’s cool enough that if we stand around in wet clothing after we cross, we risk hypothermia. We’ll be better off if we wrap our clothes in plastic in the pack and put them on again when we reach the other side.” He peeled off the shirt and unzipped his pants, then bent to untie the laces of his hiking boots.
“Okay.” Undressing made sense. But the prospect of crossing the river naked made her feel even more weak and vulnerable.
“Come on,” he said. “I want to get this over with.”
Reluctantly, she began to strip off her clothing. She turned her back to him, though why, she didn’t know. It wasn’t as if he’d never seen her naked before. The night air raised goose bumps on her skin as she folded her clothing into a compact bundle.
When she turned around to hand her clothing and shoes to Travis, his gaze was fixed on her. “You should see yourself in the moonlight,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “You’re so beautiful.”
She couldn’t look directly at him, afraid her face would give away all the emotion she was feeling—fear and love and shame and wonder. She watched him out of the corner of her eye and noted the way the moonlight burnished the muscles of his shoulders and arms. The bullet wound on his ribs was still an angry red, but the scar somehow highlighted the beauty of the rest of him—the flat abdomen and muscular thighs, and the thick perfection of his sex.
In this deserted wilderness, bathed in silvery moonlight beside the flowing waters of the river, they might have been Adam and Eve in paradise. Except that they were about to risk their lives crossing that river, and while the moonlight would help guide them, it would also make them more visible to anyone who might be watching.
“Are you afraid?” she asked, blurting the question she had only meant to think to herself.
“Yes,” he said. “Any sane person would be. But we’re going to do this anyway.”
She nodded. “Yes. We’re going to do this.”
He wrapped the clothing, along with both guns and the ammunition, in the pack’s rain fly and then in the plastic trash bag, then lashed the pack shut. “That should keep everything dry,” he said. “As long as I don’t lose the pack.”
“Don’t you dare.” The thought of having to flag down the train naked made her face heat.
He laughed. “I promise, I’ll hang on to the pack. Come here.” He pulled her close.
He was warm and solid—and aroused. “Now isn’t the time for this,” she said, even as she felt her skin heat and her nipples bead into tight peaks.
He nuzzled her neck. “I know, but the sight of you naked in the moonlight definitely turns me on.”
And the feel of him naked against her did the same for her. “Save that thought for later.” She reluctantly pulled out of his embrace and faced the water. “So what do you think? Just dive in?”
“Wade in. Use the walking stick to brace yourself. If you fall, let the current carry you downstream until you can regain your footing or swim. Aim your feet downstream and watch for obstacles.”
“You talk as if you’ve done this kind of thing before,” she said.
“I had to take a water rescue course once, in preparation for a mission.” He cut his eyes to her. “Don’t ask.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” When they had started dating, she had adhered to a policy of not asking about his work with the Bureau. She didn’t want to know what kind of danger he put himself in daily.
He took her hand and pulled her forward. “You go first,” he said. “That way I can see if you get in trouble and try to help.”
“What if you get in trouble?” she asked.
“I promise to yell loudly.” He pulled her tight against him and kissed her, a surprisingly fierce, passionate gesture. “It’s going to be all right,” he said.
“You’re just saying that.”
“I don’t lie, remember?”
“I remember.” She touched her fingers to his lips, then waded into the water.
The shock of the cold stole her breath and forced out an involuntary yelp. She faltered.
“Keep moving,” Travis urged, stepping into the water behind her. “The faster you move, the sooner it will all be over.”
She nodded, and forced herself to take a shaky step forward, and then another. The icy water pushed against her legs and the gravel river bottom continually shifted beneath her feet, making it difficult to keep her footing. It was so cold. How did those people who took polar bear plunges for charity or for fun ever do it? She planted the walking stick and held on tightly, clenching her teeth against the cold and shaking.
A few more steps and the water was up to mid-thigh, and then up to her hips. Fighting the current, she struggled forward, planting her f
oot on a smooth rock, bracing with the stick...
Then she was down, water engulfing her, cutting off the scream that ripped from her throat. The cold water rushed over her head and stole her breath, and rocks scraped her backside and arms.
She tried to stand, managing to get her head above water and sucking in a gasping breath. But the current made it impossible to find purchase on the rocky river bottom and her feet continually slipped out from under her. Remembering Travis’s advice, she fought to turn her body and aim downstream as the river pulled her along. She popped to the surface again, gasping and shouting for help. Though who would hear besides Travis, she couldn’t imagine.
She tried to relax and let the current carry her, focusing her efforts on keeping her head above water, but the constant buffeting against rocks and tree branches sticking up from the river bottom made that impossible. She feared she would be battered to death before she ever reached the shore.
Desperate, she grabbed hold of one jutting branch and clung to it as the water rushed around her. She was too weak to pull herself out of the water, but the momentary pause allowed her to catch her breath and assess her situation.
She was little more than halfway across the river, and at least a hundred yards past the point where she had fallen. She ached with the cold and her fingers were so numb she had trouble keeping hold of the branch she clung to. How long did it take for someone to die of hypothermia? An hour, or only minutes? She raised her head as far out of the water as she could, and spotted Travis standing in midstream, water to his chest, looking down the river. Relief flooded her at the sight of him. At least the water hadn’t dragged him under. After she rested here a moment, she would attempt to cross the rest of the way. Soon they would be together on the shore. She raised her hand and waved to let him know she was all right.
In that moment, the branch broke, sending her hurtling into the current once more.
Chapter Fourteen
“No!” The cry of frustration tore from Travis’s throat as the current ripped Leah from her anchor. Exhausted and trembling with cold, he’d stopped halfway across the river to get his bearings and had been relieved to see her safe, clinging to the branch of a tree that had lodged in the riverbed a hundred yards downstream. Now anger and fear gave him renewed strength and he dived into the water and started stroking for the far shore. The current carried him downstream, but he kept his eye on his goal and fought to make headway. After another minute his feet struck the bottom and he waded forward, pushing hard.
He didn’t allow himself a moment of rest when he climbed out of the water, but ran downstream, in the direction Leah had disappeared. He feared at first he had lost her. “Leah!” he shouted as he ran, scanning the tumbling water for some sign of her dark hair or flailing limbs. The thundering roar of the rapids swallowed up the cry.
He spotted her twenty yards ahead. She was swimming, but making little headway, clearly tiring in her fight against the rapids. He ran farther up the bank, shedding the pack as he moved. Leaving it beside the water, he strode into the icy current once more, setting a course to intercept Leah.
He was still ten yards away from her when she went under and didn’t resurface. “Leah, no!” he shouted, and barreled toward her. He plunged under the water at the place he thought she had gone down, but found nothing but the gravel bottom.
He surfaced to take a breath, then dived, again and again, until his teeth chattered violently and fatigue dragged at his limbs. On the verge of giving up, something bumped against his leg—something soft and pale. He reached down and his hand closed around Leah’s ankle.
He dived and gathered her body close and dragged her to the surface. Eyes shut, she lay limp in his arms. Not allowing himself to think, he wrapped his arm around her in a lifesaving carry and began fighting his way back to the shore, his body and mind numb to everything but the goal of saving her.
It took every last reserve of energy to struggle up the bank, dragging Leah with him. He lay with his face in the mud just out of the water, shivering, his heart thudding. He turned his head to look at her, her pale skin tinted blue in the moonlight.
“No,” he said again. He forced himself up onto his hands, then he crawled to her and put his ear to her chest, listening for her heartbeat. He thought he heard a faint pulse. He pressed his cheek to her lips and felt a faint flutter of warm air. Quickly, he turned her onto her side and began rubbing her back, then chafing her wrists and hands. “Come on, Leah,” he pleaded. “Wake up for me.”
She jerked and coughed, then convulsed as she vomited up a flood of murky liquid. He held her, brushing her hair out of her face. “That’s a girl,” he said. “Get it all up. You’re going to be all right.”
“Travis.” The single word was barely audible, but it hit him with the impact of a shout. He helped her sit up and she stared at him, blinking. “Wh...what happened?”
“The branch you were clinging to must have broken,” he said. “The current pulled you under.”
She curled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “I’m so cold.”
“Let me warm you up.” He pulled her to him, then they lay together, legs and arms wrapped around each other, until her shivering subsided.
“You saved me,” she said after a long while.
“I thought I’d lost you.” Seeing her slip under the water had been the worst moment of his life. He shuddered, remembering.
“No. Not yet.” She burrowed her head against his shoulder. “I’m so cold.”
“We should get some clothes on.”
“Where’s the pack?”
“I left it on the bank when I dived in after you.” He looked up and spotted the pack, sitting fifty yards upstream. Exhaustion pulled at him. It might as well have been a mile away.
“One of us is going to have to get it,” she said.
“I know.” He heaved himself into a sitting position. “I’ll get it.”
He retrieved the pack and dropped it beside her, then fell to his knees. He took out one of the water bottles and drank, then handed it to her while he opened the pack. Relief rushed through him as he unfolded the plastic. “Everything is dry,” he said.
They dressed quickly. The clothing felt good against his skin. Warmer, though not really warm enough.
“Maybe we should build a fire,” he said.
“A fire sounds heavenly.” She looked down the riverbank, toward the bridge and the train station, too far to see from their vantage point. “But we probably shouldn’t risk it. If Duane and his men found us now, I wouldn’t have the energy to run away from them.”
“You’re right.” He shouldered the pack. “Let’s find someplace safe to wait until morning and wrap up in the space blanket. Our body heat will warm us.”
A few hundred yards upstream, they found a hollowed-out place in the bank half hidden by brush and weeds. They crawled into this and pulled the space blanket around them. Within minutes they had fallen into an exhausted sleep.
* * *
LEAH WOKE TO bright light hitting her face. She moaned and tried to turn away from the painful glare, but there was no room in her cramped hiding place. “I was going to wake you soon.” Travis spoke from a few feet away, where he knelt before the pack. “The train will be here in a half hour or so.”
The train. Their salvation. But to reach it, they had to climb the steep bank to the tracks. Every inch of her ached at the prospect. She pushed aside the space blanket. “How are we going to get the train to stop?” she asked.
“I thought we’d use your sweater as a flag,” he said. “It’s red, so they’ll be able to see it from a long way off.”
“My sweater?” She clutched at the garment in question. “You want me to flag down the train topless?”
He grinned. “I’ll bet the engineer would stop for that.”
At her horrified look, he laughed. “You can wear the fleece jacket. It zips up the front. And once we’re on board, you can have the sweater back.”
She couldn’t think of a solid argument against this plan, so she reluctantly peeled off the sweater and handed it over. While she put on the fleece and zipped it up, he tied the arms of the sweater to a tree branch and waved it experimentally.
“This ought to work. I’ll stand on the track and wave it over my head.”
“What if the engineer doesn’t see you? What if he can’t stop in time to avoid hitting you?”
“I remember now. You always were a grouch before you had your morning coffee.”
She glared at him.
“The train isn’t traveling that fast,” he said. “I’ll stand where I’m sure the engineer can see me from a long way off.” He tugged the space blanket from around her and began folding it. “Are you ready?”
“I just need to shower, brush my teeth, comb my hair and do my makeup, and have some breakfast.” She combed her hair back out of her face with her fingers. “Oh, wait. I can’t do any of those things.”
“There will be food on the train,” he said. “And coffee. And restrooms.”
“You sure know how to tempt a girl.” She shoved herself up. “I’m ready.”
He shouldered the pack, then led the way up the steep bank. The trail was straight up, and slippery with gravel, but she managed to pull herself up by gritting her teeth and picturing the cheeseburger she was going to devour as soon as they reached whatever passed for a dining car on the tourist train.
At the top of the trail, Travis put his hand on her shoulder. “Listen.”
She stilled, and the low moan of the train whistle reached her ears. Her heart leaped. “It’s coming.”
He removed the pack and handed it to her, took the flag he had made from her sweater, and walked out onto the track. The slim rails were only thirty-six inches apart, coarse gravel filling in the space between the ties.
