by Debra
“From this side of the ridge, we should be able to get a lead on Lancaster’s route.”
“How do you figure?”
“He can’t get due north without climbing gear. I didn’t see any in Jeff or Bob’s packs.”
“Could be one person is carrying the load for all of them.”
“Maybe so,” she allowed.
“How will we get to the plane without climbing gear?”
“That depends.”
He hesitated to ask. “On what?”
“What’s in your pockets.”
“Pardon?”
“If you have binoculars, I know of an overlook in that general direction that might allow us to get in front of Lancaster.”
“How can you see anything up here?” So much of it looked the same to him. Vast and beautiful. Steep slopes of green and brown broken by sparkling water, outcrops of stone, even caps of snow up here in these higher elevations. Without a beacon or an overhead view, he couldn’t fathom how she’d find a small downed aircraft. “This is the ski resort side of the range, right?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I was thinking about the plane’s possible destination. Maybe somewhere nearby was a fueling stop or something.”
“That could be any number of places along here, or well west. Are you thinking of contacting the local airfields?”
“Maybe. What if Lancaster tried to rent a helicopter before he came to you?”
“I can’t image any pilot agreeing to search without a specific destination.”
“True. But with the beacon, he could’ve given a decent search field.”
“So if he gave a pilot general coordinates and still had to come to me...” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes scanned the little slice of sky they could see from their hiding place.
“You do know where he’s headed. I knew you’d figure it out.”
“I don’t know precisely,” she admitted, “but that does give me a better idea. There’s a lot of treacherous ground to cover and at least five men determined to get there before you.”
“One of them isn’t walking well.”
“Go team us,” she mused.
But she didn’t sound too enthused. He rubbed her knee. The risk to his sanity was worth it. “We’ll get there first,” he said, dragging his mind back to the problem instead of the woman.
“Don’t get too confident,” she warned.
“Why wouldn’t I be confident? You’re like an ace up my sleeve.” Something about her gave him more than confidence. She gave him real hope.
Chapter Twelve
Charly felt as though they’d been cramped for years in the tiny crevice rather than the hours it had taken for the sun to set. They’d listened to the chatter on the radio between Scott and Lancaster, debating who’d been with Charly and how to contain them. Lancaster had been furious at Scott’s failure, but called them back to move on with their primary purpose.
Will had called her his secret ace, but she was thinking the reverse was true. He’d been right that this crew was more dangerous, more desperate than she’d first thought.
Charly didn’t like moving at night, not on this side of the ridge, where any step could knock debris loose and give away their position. Or worse, send them tumbling down to rocks below. But they couldn’t stay out here, exposed, with only her sleeping bag and each other as shelter against the elements.
Her brain stalled out, savoring the images that flooded her mind with that thought. Totally inappropriate thoughts, considering their life-and-death predicament. It smelled like snow and while she didn’t expect a big accumulation this time of year, even a dusting could be enough to slow them down.
They had to get ahead of Lancaster and his crew. They’d just escaped a barrage of bullets and yet part of her was consumed by the urge to get her hands on Will’s rock-hard pecs and ripped abs. It was embarrassing. They needed to find a safe place to wait out the snowfall and regroup. Her distraction would mean an advantage for Lancaster if she didn’t pull herself together.
“What do you think?”
She looked up at Will, standing by her side as she faced the vast emptiness just beyond their feet, where the mountain gave way to a steep, rugged canyon. His chiseled features were blurred by darkness, his eyes impossible to read.
“I think we need to take the chance.” She reminded herself that he’d trusted her to deal with Jeff and Bob. It was time to trust him and his training.
Will took another step, peering over the edge. “Some chance.”
She knew he was thinking about the stingy length of rope in her pack. Neither of them was geared up for real climbing. Under normal circumstances, she believed they were both smart enough to not do what she’d suggested. But they had to survive. The night, the weather, Lancaster.
“This cliff is riddled with caves. It’s our best bet to get through the night.”
He looked around, and she could practically feel the realization dawning. “Cliff. Caves. Under us, yes?”
“Yes.” One wrong move and— She couldn’t let her mind wander any closer to the negative. “I can get us there. We’ll have shelter, a break from the wind and snow.”
“They won’t expect us to go over.”
“And it should give us a safe vantage point when they set out in the morning,” she added, keeping her voice low to match his. Having spent the day hiding, they didn’t know how much progress Lancaster had made toward the beacon. In the dark, with no sign of a campfire, she and Will decided to go forward rather than search out their campsite.
“It’ll work.”
She wished she knew for sure, but as fat snowflakes began a slow descent, time for debate was over. If they waited any longer, she wouldn’t be able to justify the risk. “This way.” She checked the straps on her pack, tugged at Will’s for good measure.
“It’s not going anywhere,” he assured her.
With a mental cross of fingers, she dropped to her butt at the cliff’s edge and let her feet dangle in the wide abyss of dark. She supposed that was one small positive, not being able to see the distance from here to the bottom.
Will sat beside her and covered her hand with his. “Lead the way.”
His absolute faith rattled her almost as much as it bolstered her confidence. This was the worst time to feel off balance, when she’d be scooting down a nearly invisible “stairway” with unyielding mountain on one side and nothing but air on the other.
“Okay. Down about six to eight feet,” she began. “It’s barely a ledge and I can’t see the gaps well in the dark,” she warned.
“Slow going. Got it.”
She didn’t give herself a chance to think about the benefit of anchors and ropes. Those things would only be a road map for Lancaster’s crew in the morning.
Will tapped her on the shoulder, but she’d heard the same sound he had. Too big to be anything but one of Lancaster’s men. At this point she had no doubt whoever it was would shoot first and sleep well after.
As if answering her thoughts, a gunshot blasted out of the darkness.
Strange how her basic instinct to survive debated her lousy choices. Bullets or canyon floor? No time. She relegated the panic and defeatist thoughts to the back of her mind as she pushed herself over the edge and prayed her feet would find purchase on the narrow lip of rock that had been worn down by wind and rain.
Her mind whipped through the math as she slid, clinging to the mountain as it bit into her side. Only six to eight feet. Only. She should feel the ledge under her toes within a second or two.
She didn’t.
Just their luck if she’d chosen to go over at a new gap in the ledge. But she knew this mountain. The ledge should be there. What was the worst that could happen? One of the scrappy trees would catch them.
Her fingers dug into loose rock and soil before her toes, straining for contact, found the narrow lip of solid rock. She nearly laughed aloud in pure relief. A moment later, Will landed beside her.
&n
bsp; “Go, go, go,” he urged, his hand on her pack, keeping her close to the cliff.
She glanced up and got a face full of dirt knocked loose by the men chasing them. Scrambling, belly pressed to the side of the cliff, she moved as fast as she dared. Faster, as shouts tumbled down from above.
The wind spun snow around her face, coming down heavy enough now to give her a pale outline of their immediate surroundings. She ducked under a scruffy tree, gave Will plenty of warning about the obstacle and kept going.
The wide beam of a flashlight speared through the dark, wrecking her night vision. She studied the terrain as the light swept back and forth, determined to make it to shelter before the men above them found their aim.
A strange crack and wail had her turning back, panicked that Will had slipped. The scruffy tree between them was bending under the weight of one of Lancaster’s men. Rich, she remembered, as the flashlight illuminated his terrified face.
For a moment, she was frozen, a helpless bystander amid the swirling cries for help and the promises of death.
“Go!” Will shouted.
She couldn’t. Wouldn’t leave him to deal with this alone. Without her guidance Will couldn’t get to safety, and waiting only gave Lancaster a better chance to shoot them. It was either help Rich or they all lose. The panicked man in the tree swore as the shallow roots jerked and gave.
“Give me your hand,” she said to Rich with a calm she used for emergencies.
“Don’t do it,” Will shouted. “Let me. I’m stronger.”
Someone on the cliff’s edge held the flashlight steady, painting the horrible tabloid in a weak spotlight with snowflakes floating through like pale confetti.
“Kill them,” Lancaster called, his voice colder than the bitter night air.
The man tested her humanity. She’d like to show Lancaster who had a clear shot in this instance—her—but Will was adamant about taking him in alive.
“Reach for me,” Will ordered the man.
“Can’t,” Rich said, clinging to the tree.
“You can,” she told him. If she could catch his jacket, she might be able to swing him to the ledge.
The tree lurched free of the mountain a bit more as Rich struggled. “Oh, God.”
“Stretch!” Will barked.
To her horror, bullets chattered around them, followed by more dirt and debris from above. She heard shouts from the men fighting among themselves, but her eyes were locked on Will and Rich. She braced to help in any possible way.
Rich reached, his hand connecting with Will’s. For a single heartbeat, she knew life would triumph. Then it changed.
Bullets marched through Rich and the snow, illuminated by the flashlight, turned into a red haze of blood. Will couldn’t hold him, and the man and the scruffy tree tumbled away into the darkness.
“Move!” Will filled her vision, urging her along. She caught the muzzle flash of his gun as he fired off a few rounds to cover their retreat.
The light doused, by choice or bullet, she was blind, feeling her way with toes and fingers and memory. With a prayer, she scurried faster than was smart down the ledge, her slips and slides the only way to tell Will what was coming. Better to let the mountain take her than Lancaster.
She ducked into the shelter of the first cave and they sank back, waiting for any pursuit.
“They’ve given up for tonight,” he said after a few minutes. “Can you keep going?”
It felt as if every cell in her body shivered. Wouldn’t ever stop shivering. “Yes,” she replied, victorious that she’d kept the word steady.
“I want more distance, if there’s another safe place nearby.”
“This side is full of caves. We can find another. Just—” She paused, covered her eyes with her cold hands. “Just let my eyes recover a minute.”
“Takes longer than a minute,” he said.
“I know.” She took a deep breath. “But humor me anyway.”
“Sure.”
Opening her eyes, she walked back to the cave entrance. With a big breath, she started out once more. Stupid or brave, didn’t matter—they couldn’t stay put—so she moved swiftly along to the next cave big enough for both of them. “Is this better?” she asked.
Will waited again, listening, before joining her and escaping the reach of the elements. Turning on his flashlight, he scanned the empty space. “Perfect.” The light went out and his voice drifted over her. “You’re amazing. Charly, that was... I just don’t know what to say.”
She grabbed the straps of his pack and pulled him close, until his lips landed on hers. The contact wasn’t gentle. Nothing close to seductive. It was a raw celebration of survival. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his solid body, chasing the chill from her blood.
She changed the angle, her lips parting, tongue seeking his taste and heat. Clutching his shoulders for balance, she let desire and lust burn away the grim reality of their narrow escape.
There was nothing for her outside of this moment. Nothing in her world but him. Them. Strong, steady and capable, Will became her gravity. She knew she’d float away without him.
She pushed at the straps of his pack, wanting to get her hands on all of him. Right now. Who knew how much time they had left? She wouldn’t let this opportunity pass. Her palm slid across his chest, felt the heavy thud of his heart, and her pulse pounded an echo in her ears.
“I need you,” she murmured against his lips while her fingers worked at his jacket. “Now.”
* * *
“HANG ON.” WILL leaned back from her sweet, soft mouth. Everything inside him wanted to seize what her body offered. Sure, there was plenty of mutual attraction on both sides, but he didn’t want to be one more regret for her to deal with when the adrenaline faded.
He cradled her head to his shoulder and murmured some nonsense he hoped was soothing. “Let’s just breathe a minute. We need to slow this down.” That sounded pretty good. Almost reasonable.
“Sure.” But she kept her hands fisted in the fabric of his jacket.
“We should start a fire.”
“I’ve got plenty of fire for both of us.” She pressed her lips together as she backed up a step, released him. “No fire. It could easily give away our position.”
And he would’ve thought of that if she hadn’t just fried his brain with that kiss. It was all he could do to stay sane enough to think past the desire.
She shrugged out of her pack and took her sleeping bag deeper into the dark cave. He heard the rustling as she rolled it out. “Warmer back here,” she said.
“Good.” He was hoping the cold air at the mouth of the cave would be as effective as a cold shower. “I’ll take first watch.”
“Get back here and get some rest,” she suggested. “I’ll wake up before dawn to watch for their movement.”
“Charly.”
“Worried I’ll jump you?”
“The reverse, actually.”
“If only,” she said. “Flattering as that is, we’re going to need each other—body heat—to get through the night without a fire.”
He knew she was right even as he racked his brain for a suitable argument. He needed distance. Physically and emotionally. “Let’s pretend it’s another date. You owe me one anyway.”
“I owe you a game of pool.”
“And some conversation to go with it,” he said. His feet felt like concrete blocks as he walked back to her. The date idea was solid. They’d talk and pretend to be anywhere but a dark, cold cave until she fell asleep.
He set aside his pack and sat down at the edge of her sleeping bag. Loosening the laces of his boots, he pulled them off and changed into dry socks before he leaned back against the wall of the cave.
“I’m not sure I’m good for conversation,” she said. The zipper of the sleeping bag rasped as she spread it out. “Why don’t you start? We’ve talked about my family, but not yours.”
Good grief. How did he get through this minefield? His date
idea had twisted back and bitten him on the ass. As much as he didn’t want to discuss his broken family, it would at least serve as an effective mood killer. Being honest about his past would kill any chance he had with her if—when—they got out of this increasingly frustrating Lancaster situation.
“We need to figure out how to find the plane,” he mumbled.
“Can’t do anything until the morning,” she replied. “You know I have two brothers,” she said. “Do you have siblings?”
“That’s first-date chatter.”
“It’s the best I’ve got right now.”
Will reminded himself patience was his strong suit. Patience had carried him through hell week. Vast wells of patience had seen him through ops that went perfectly and those that had gone sideways.
Here, with Charly in the line of fire, his patience was tapped. He wanted nothing more than to put this deadly game of cat and mouse behind him. He wondered if he could find a way back up there and just take Lancaster and his crew out tonight.
And they both knew he’d dodged the more personal questions whenever they were together. He saw her moving—felt it, really, a more substantial form among the heavy shadows. He could chat. Keep it light and easy. An easy task when he wouldn’t have to face her reactions.
His pulse kicked as she settled next to him, her hip pressed against his. She drew the sleeping bag up across their legs, casting her scent over him. Sunshine and moss. The strange combination was soothing. Between her body and the sleeping bag, he wanted to sink into the comfort.
He had enough decency, self-control and, yes, patience, to deal with it.
“I had a brother.” And parents, too, until Jacob died. “Do you ever wish your brothers put as much into the business as you do?”
“Sure. But we’re talking about you right now.”
“We are?”
She linked her hand with his. “Yes.”
He heard the edge in her voice and knew he was stuck. She wanted him to open up. It wasn’t as if she didn’t deserve a little honesty. He could do this. “My brother died.”
“I’m sorry.” For a long time, the only sound was her soft breath. “I didn’t realize how little I knew about you,” she added. “Personally.”
