Morgan's Hunter

by Cate Beauman

“That’s all we’ve got. This place will be surrounded in fifteen minutes or less. I’m guessing less. The fact we’re out in the middle of nowhere is working on our side.”

  Morgan dashed to the kitchen, opening and slamming cupboards. She appeared moments later with boxes of pasta and canned goods. She shoved them into Hunter’s pack, headed back for more.

  Hunter placed a call to California. Sarah’s friendly voice answered on the second ring. “Sarah, it’s Hunter. Don’t talk, just listen.”

  “Okay.”

  “You need to take Kylee to your parents. Don’t go back to your house until I call and say it’s okay.”

  “Hunter, I have a full schedule of photo shoots tomorrow, and my parents are out of town.”

  “Cancel your appointments. Go to Ethan’s.”

  “I can’t just—”

  “Do it.” He took a deep breath. “Please, Sarah, I’ve gotten myself into a hell of a mess and may’ve put you and Kylee in danger. I called you on phones that might be tapped. Don’t go to my house. Pack a quick bag. Have Ethan go back for the rest. Tell him I’ll call as soon as I can. I really have to go. Promise you’ll do it. I’m sure I’m overreacting, but I need to know you’re safe.”

  “Okay, I promise. I love you, Hunter. Be careful.”

  “I will. I love you too.” He hung up.

  As Morgan yanked dirty items from their bags and stuffed their packs with fresh clothes, Hunter placed the next call.

  “Parks and Conservation Bureau. Dean Jenkins.”

  “This is Hunter Phillips. I need to talk to Stanley Taylor immediately. It’s an emergency.”

  “I’m sorry. He’s in a meeting.”

  “Interrupt him.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  “Listen to me, Dean. I don’t know who the hell you are but—”

  Morgan ripped the phone from his hand.

  “Dean, it’s Morgan.”

  “Hello, Morgan, is everything all right?”

  “Actually, it’s not. You’re going to have to take a message. It’s life or death.”

  “Morgan, what are you talking about?”

  “Dean,” she snapped, “just listen. We found an illegal gold mining operation in the park on the northeast side of Montana, on the Slough River. I can’t get you exact coordinates, but the authorities won’t have any problems finding it. I think that’s why the team was killed. The guards must’ve gotten to them. We need to be picked up from the park; it’s—”

  Hunter took the phone back. “Listen carefully, Dean. We need to be picked up in Tower Junction, Wyoming in three days.”

  “What kind of mess are you in? What if you don’t make it in that time frame?”

  “We will. Just have someone there.”

  “How will we find you?”

  “I’ll find you.”

  “Wouldn’t it just be easier to find a way to the airport?”

  “You’d think, but I don’t know who the hell I can trust anymore. There’s at least one dirty ranger and two cops involved with the operation. I don’t know how far up the chain this thing goes. An APB has been issued on Morgan and me. If you or Stanley could call and explain the situation to the cops, it would take some of the heat off of us here. We’ll stay in the wilderness until we find the Bureau agent. Three days, Dean. We’ve gotta go.” Hunter hung up.

  Moments later, Stanley returned to his office. “Dean, what are you doing here?”

  “I stopped by to see if you’d like to join me for dinner.”

  “Great idea. Ilene has a commitment tonight. A night out with an old pal sounds good.”

  Dean smiled. “Perfect. I’ll drive. You just missed Morgan’s call.”

  “You answered my phone?” Stanley looked at Dean as he gathered items from his desk, transferred them to his briefcase.

  “I’m sorry if I overstepped my bounds, but I knew it was your personal line. I thought I would take a message for you.”

  “No, no, that’s fine. What did she say?”

  “Oh, nothing much—just that she and the bodyguard weren’t having a whole lot of luck with the lynx. She’s going back out into the wilderness first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Ah well, that’s a hard animal to track down.” Stanley snapped the case closed, stepped from behind his desk.

  “Yes, it is. Let’s go get ourselves a bite to eat.” Dean waited next to Stanley while he locked his office for the evening. “Oh, by the way, Stan, I have to go out of town for a couple of days. Connie’s brother is having some trouble. We’re going to give him a hand. I’ll be leaving first thing in the morning.”

  CHAPTER 23

  HUNTER AND MORGAN SECURED THEIR packs and took off into the night. The distant wail of sirens echoed off the surrounding mountains, following them deep into the forest.

  Thick, ominous clouds moved across the sky, covering what should have been a half moon. Wisps of fog snaked among the trees, hovering just above the ground. Minutes after they left the station, a chilly drizzle began to fall.

  Without the light of the moon, Hunter had little choice but to shine the beam of his flashlight along the path he created. “I know it’s hard to see, but we have to hurry. They’ll have canine units searching for us before long. I want to stay in the vegetation, but we can move faster if we get to the edge of the clearing.”

  In the true country black-of-night, Morgan held tight to the back of Hunter’s pack, following behind. “Dean would’ve interrupted my dad’s meeting immediately. He should be calling the authorities by now if he hasn’t already.”

  “It’ll take time to get word down to the local level. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want a German shepherd snacking on my arm while we wait, so we’ll keep moving for now.”

  Morgan tripped over a rock jutting from the dirt. Hunter reached behind, grabbing her before she went over. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I can’t see where I’m stepping, and I’m a little tired, but I’m fine.”

  If she was actually admitting it, she was way past a little tired. “I know you are. As soon as I think we’re in a good place, we can stop. I imagine we have a small window before they call out the helicopters. They’ll try to find us on foot first, then they’ll call in the big guns.”

  “Why haven’t they already? That’s what they do on those cop shows.”

  “Procedures are a little different in rural areas. The dogs have a better chance of picking up our scent out here versus a helicopter spotting us. We’re like a needle in a haystack. We should stop, get into our thermals and raingear, or we’ll freeze our asses off and have even bigger problems.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  Hunter guided Morgan deeper into the trees, where they quickly dug into their packs for thermal underwear, rain pants and the Gor-Tex shells for their jackets.

  Changed and as warm and waterproof as they were going to get, they continued.

  Mile after mile, they walked as quick as the miserable conditions would allow. The light drizzle turned to a steady rain, creating muddy, slippery surfaces. The open space and easy maneuverability of the valley terrain vanished as they climbed. Sharp rocks, thick tree cover, and dangerously deep drops promised to break bones or worse.

  By ten, their pace slowed to a crawl. The police had yet to find them, but it was still too risky to attempt headlamps. They continued to work by the tiny beam of Hunter’s small flashlight.

  Shivering, Morgan’s teeth chattered. “Are we far enough away to stop for a few minutes? I need to change my socks and layer up some more. I’m getting cold.”

  “Yeah, I think we should be able—” The thump of chopper blades in the distance cut Hunter off. “What the hell? They’re still looking for us?” He grabbed Morgan’s hand, moved deeper into the cover of tall pines. He turned off the flashlight, and they braced themselves as close to the tree as possible, waiting for the bright, bold searchlight of the helicopter to pass by.

  “We’ve been out
here for a couple of hours at least. My dad should’ve taken care of this by now.”

  It was hard to miss the weariness in Morgan’s voice. Hunter gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, he should’ve.” Something wasn’t right. “All we can do is keep going. There’s probably been a little snag.” He needed to get to a phone and call Ethan.

  Morgan changed her socks, retied her boots. Rain began to fall in unrelenting sheets as the wind gusted with a violent howl. She looked up, blinking rapidly. “Hunter, I’m beginning to think things aren’t going to go well for us tonight.”

  Rain whipped against his face like cold needles. Despite the hellish conditions, he couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t know where you’d get an impression like that. You’re such a pessimist.”

  Morgan smiled back.

  “Things are actually looking up. They’ll have to land the helicopter. They don’t fly well in this weather. We’ll take the rain. Let’s keep moving.”

  The blinding rains and strong winds continued into the night. The battle with the unrelenting elements and brutal terrain were beginning to wear on him. If he was tired, Morgan had to be toast.

  “We’ll stop for a little while,” Hunter yelled into a gust of wind.

  With a weary sigh, Morgan looked behind her. “No, I want to keep going.”

  “We have to rest or we won’t be able to move tomorrow when we really need to. This rain isn’t going to last forever. If the search hasn’t been called off, the weather has seriously slowed them down. We’re safe for now.”

  She nodded. “Okay, you’re right.”

  “What do you say we make ourselves a shelter and get out of this rain for awhile?”

  “That sounds good—really, really good. Can we set up the tent?”

  Hunter shook his head. “It’ll take too long to break down if we have to move quickly. We can leave the tarps behind, but we don’t want to be without the tent.”

  Hunter took a folded tarp from his pack. Morgan helped him tie the thick ropes attached to the vinyl around four large tree trunks. They pitched it at an angle, allowing the water runoff to flow into the rocks and trees instead of puddle on the second tarp they put down on the ground. Hunter gathered pine branches, placing them around the sides of their makeshift shelter.

  With the tarps settled in place, both Morgan and Hunter stripped out of their dripping Gor-Tex. They sat in mostly-dry hiking pants and fleece tops. Morgan turned the LED lantern low, started making sandwiches. She piled rye bread with cold cuts she’d taken from the refrigerator. Hunter turned the small camp stove on to heat water for packaged chicken noodle soup.

  Morgan handed Hunter his sandwich. He groaned over his first bite of ham and cheese. “Now this is a sandwich.”

  “It should be.” She smiled before taking a ravenous bite. “You’ve got about a half-pound of meat and cheese between your bread. I wanted to use it all tonight before it spoils.” She added a packet of broth to the boiling water, stirred. “It’s great to be dry again, even if it’s just for a little while.”

  Moments later she handed him a cup brimming with steaming broth and noodles.

  He blew on the soup, cautiously sipped the salty liquid and thought he’d gone to heaven. “Who knew powdered broth and dehydrated noodles could taste so good. Make sure you have some too. You need the warmth and energy.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll eat. I’m starved.”

  When Hunter finished his meal, he unsnapped the mattress pad and sleeping bag from his pack, took them from their waterproof covers. He lay them on the ground tarp, careful to avoid any water splashing in and on the vinyl. “Go ahead and get in when you’re ready.”

  “What about you?”

  “Oh, I’m sleeping too. We’re sharing tonight. There’s not much of a choice. This tarp isn’t big enough for two sleeping bags and a spot for our clothes to dry out. We’ll keep each other warmer this way, anyway.”

  Morgan didn’t hesitate as he thought she might. When she crawled toward the makeshift bed, Hunter set the alarm on his watch. Just enough time to rest; then they’d have to keep moving.

  He took off his hiking pants and fleece, boots and socks, laid them out on the tarp to dry. Like Hunter, Morgan stripped down to her thermal pants and long-sleeve shirt. She eagerly slid into the bag, sighed when her head rested on the small bump of a pillow the mattress pad provided.

  Hunter checked the safety on his pistol, put the gun close by. He squeezed in awkwardly behind Morgan as she leaned forward to let him in. He pulled the cover over them, and she zipped them into very close quarters.

  Morgan lay back against him. “It’s so cold out here tonight. I can’t get warm.”

  Hunter put his arm around her waist, pulling her close, until she snuggled into the warmth of his body. She rested her bandaged hand against his forearm.

  “We’ll fix your dressing when we wake up. I’m giving us three hours.”

  “I haven’t slept in nearly twenty-four. I’m so tired, but I don’t think I’m going to fall asleep.”

  “Try to relax. As much as it sucks, the rain is working to our advantage. We created a decent distance.”

  With Morgan settled close, Hunter watched the pounding rain pour from the bottom pitch of the tarp like a fast flowing waterfall. He thought about Morgan’s words. She hadn’t slept in twenty-four hours—since they’d had sex.

  It bothered him to think she’d been that upset with the way things ended between them. She had lain inches from him—sleepless—while he’d slept on. When she’d returned to the tent, he remembered the way her eyes had pleaded with him to give her something—some small piece of himself.

  He recalled the hurt when she’d looked away and dimmed the lantern to darkness. As was habit, he’d shrugged it off. He didn’t deal in messy emotions—they weren’t for him. Uncomfortable with his own cowardice, he brushed it all aside.

  Morgan shifted again.

  “Why aren’t you asleep yet?” he whispered against her ear.

  “I can’t settle my mind. Talk to me, Hunter, about anything. I don’t want to think anymore.”

  “Okay.” He tried to think of something soothing but nothing came. Instead, he said the first thing that entered his mind. “I’m curious to know how Robert and those two cops will explain their injuries. They’ll have to come up with one hell of a story.”

  “I still can’t believe this is really happening. Robert knew about the mine.”

  “It certainly looks that way.”

  “How did he know we found it?”

  “I still haven’t figured that one out yet.”

  “Those were some pretty impressive moves you had. I didn’t know you knew karate. That was karate, right?”

  “It was a mix of disciplines. Go to sleep now.”

  “Did you learn in the Marines?”

  He didn’t want to talk about his time in the military, but her voice was thick and sleepy. If he kept talking, she would eventually go out. He caressed his thumb along her hand, waiting for sheer exhaustion to take over.

  “I’ve studied martial arts since middle school, but we definitely used it in the Marines.”

  “What level are you?”

  “We don’t call them levels. They’re belts. I’m a third-degree black belt. Close your eyes, Morgan. Relax.”

  “I’m trying.”

  The rain pounded against the tarp for several minutes. She no longer spoke. His thumb still moved across the soft skin of her hand. He thought she finally slept, until she spoke again.

  “Thank you, for everything. Your lead about the mine was right. Now my friends’ families will finally know what happened. It’s not much, but it’s something. I don’t know how Ethan found out, but I’m grateful. You’ve saved my life more times than I can count. So, thanks.” She lifted his hand to her lips, kissed his knuckles, settled his arm back around her waist.

  Hunter pushed the guilt aside for letting her believe Ethan had given him the information. It was still safer th
is way. He lifted his hand from her waist, ran his fingers through her hair. “You’re welcome. Now stop talking and go to sleep.” He wrapped his arm around her again, listening, until her breathing finally grew deep. He moved in closer, nestling his cheek against her neck and relaxed. Moments later, he slept too.

  Her eyes had been closed for seconds when Hunter’s watch started its monotonous beep—or so it seemed. Morgan groaned. “Let’s go back to sleep. Another hour or two couldn’t hurt.”

  Hunter stretched as much as their current arrangement would allow. “I wish I could say yes, but we have to get up and get moving. We’ll try to stop later.” He pulled the sleeping bag’s zipper down, dragged the cover back. “Hey, the rain stopped.”

  The frigid air hit Morgan like a shocking slap. “Yikes, it’s cold out here.” With a shudder, she yanked the cover back in place. “What time is it anyway?”

  Hunter pulled the cover off, sat up. “Three.”

  She groaned again. “You’re a cruel man.”

  They dressed quickly and took the time to heat water for strong coffee and hot cereal. Hunter changed Morgan’s bandage by the low light of the lantern. The bright, angry red surrounding the wound had faded to a dull pink. “This looks better. We caught the infection just in time.”

  “Does this mean you’ll stop swabbing the damn antiseptic all over it?”

  “I think you already know the answer.”

  She smiled. “It never hurts to ask.”

  A slow grin spread across his lips while he put the first aid supplies away.

  “What are you doing? It’s your turn.”

  “Huh?”

  “We’re going to take care of your cheek. We should’ve cleaned it hours ago.”

  Hunter brushed his fingers over the cuts. “Nah, it’s fine.”

  “Let’s not risk it. Those are some deep nicks.” Morgan pulled the sanitizer and antiseptic free of the pouch. After cleaning her hands, she dipped a Q-tip in the bottle. “Scooch over a bit. I can’t reach.”

  He stayed put, eyeing her.

  “Afraid it’ll hurt? Don’t be a baby, Bodyguard Phillips. If I can take it, you sure can.”