by Debra Webb
“There’s a village not far from here,” he explained. “Pablo’s family lives there.”
“Is that where we’re going?”
“Yeah.” He pushed onward, hoping she would follow without asking any more questions.
There was no need to explain the rest right now. Sloan scanned the sky. He felt a storm brewing. The wind kicked up, making him all the more aware of nature’s restlessness around them. There would be no time to waste once Pablo had paved the way for Sloan’s plan. He glanced down at the boy sleeping in his arms. The sooner this was done the better off they would all be.
Twenty minutes later a welcoming campfire came into view. Sloan breathed a bit easier upon seeing the dancing flames. The fire was a sign that Pablo’s people welcomed the strangers into their village. Had they not been welcome, there would have been darkness and silence. Three figures stood within the light of the flames—Pablo, a woman Sloan recognized as Pablo’s elderly mother, and the village leader, Camilo.
Sloan turned to Rachel before they entered the perimeter of the village and lowered Josh into her arms. Later she would have regretted not having held him those final minutes. He hoped she wasn’t going to make this any tougher than it needed to be. There was no other way to ensure his safety. Sloan scanned their surroundings as he moved toward the waiting group. The numerous sod huts and primitive cabins fanned out from the village center like the spokes of a wheel. The small party waited in the center, the place of honor, to greet their guests.
A rough male voice uttered a simple phrase that Sloan recognized as a greeting of welcome.
Sloan bowed slightly in deference to the man’s village title. “Gracias.” Though he understood some of the native language used by these people, he spoke none. Pablo would translate.
“Camilo says yes to your request,” Pablo said as they approached. “My mother has also agreed.”
“Muchas gracias, Señor Camilo,” Sloan offered, “y Señora Vecino.” He placed his hand over his heart to emphasize the depth of his gratitude. Spanish was not lost on these people, and Sloan was aware that any attempt at direct communication would be appreciated.
The elderly woman spouted a short monologue in her primitive language, much too quickly for Sloan to grasp the complete meaning. He turned to Pablo who quickly translated for both Sloan’s and Rachel’s benefit.
“Mother says that a child is a treasure from God and all measures must be taken to cherish and nurture such a gift.”
Sloan nodded his agreement. “Sí, señora,” he bowed again to the elderly woman.
Señora Vecino lifted a small stick of wood from the fire to use as a torch and gestured for them to follow. Sloan guided a hesitant Rachel forward. The woman led them to a nearby hut, somewhat smaller than the others. A dim light marked the low entrance. With a sweep of her hand she indicated that Rachel should enter before her. Rachel’s uncertain gaze collided with Sloan’s. He nodded for her to obey. Looking entirely too much like a lost child herself, she ducked through the open doorway. Señora Vecino scurried in next. Sloan followed.
Two thick pallets of animal pelts covered most of the available floor space in the main room. Señora Vecino motioned for Rachel to place Josh on one of them. Again Rachel looked to Sloan for assurance. He nodded.
Rachel knelt next to the nearest pallet and carefully laid Josh in the center of it. His lids fluttered open, but quickly closed once more. When it was clear that Josh would continue to sleep, the elderly woman made an urgent sweeping motion with her gnarled hands. She wanted them to leave. Rachel hadn’t missed the meaning either. She looked startled and completely bewildered. When Rachel didn’t move swiftly enough the woman mumbled crossly, the words spoken too quickly and gruffly for Sloan to catch the meaning.
“What is she saying?” Rachel held her ground next to Josh.
Sloan closed one hand around Rachel’s arm and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s talk outside,” he whispered near her ear.
She shook her head adamantly. “No. I’m not leaving Josh.”
The old woman grumbled something that sounded very much like, “away with you, the devil is on your heels.” If she only knew how close to right she was. Too damned close.
“Don’t make this anymore difficult than it needs to be, Rachel,” he warned in a low, lethal tone he hoped relayed the seriousness of the situation.
Tears brimming in her big brown eyes, she followed him outside. “What do you think you’re doing?” She jerked free of his hold and glared at him. Fear and worry radiated from those velvety depths.
“He’ll be safer here. We have to go back.”
She shook her head again. “No way. I won’t leave him.” Her chest rose and fell too rapidly. Hysteria would set in any second now.
She was afraid she would never see her son again. Of all people, Sloan could sympathize with that heart-wrenching fear, but there was no alternative.
“Listen to me.” He took her by the shoulders and gave her a little shake to bring her to her senses. “Angel is coming. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow, but soon. We don’t want Josh anywhere around when that happens. He’ll be safer here.”
Rachel pounded her fists against his chest as a sob shook her. She knew he was right, but the pain of leaving her son behind was more than she could bear. “How can you be sure he’ll be safe here?” she demanded. Tears rolled down her cheeks, twisting the knot in his gut that much tighter.
“He’ll be safe.” He wanted to take her in his arms more than he wanted to take his next breath, but that wasn’t what she needed now. She needed to think rationally. “These people will hide Josh among their own children. With his coloring no one will ever suspect that he doesn’t belong here—even if anyone came looking, which is highly unlikely.” Her lower lip trembled and his whole body reacted. He pulled her close and held her in spite of the warnings sounding in his head.
“We’ve never been apart before,” she sobbed against his chest. “I’m not sure I can do it.”
The fingers of his right hand threaded into the silky length of her hair as the left splayed on her slender back, holding her body to his. The need he felt could be contained no more. Sloan kissed her temple, then lower, next to her ear. She shivered. “Don’t cry,” he murmured. “I swear he’ll be safe here. Pablo will protect him with his own life.”
She tilted her head back, searching out his gaze in the sparse light. “And if we can’t come back for him?” She blinked back the fresh wave of tears he heard in her voice. “What happens then?”
He clenched his jaw against the flood of emotions that washed over him. When he had composed himself he leveled his gaze on hers and said the words tightening his throat. “You will be back for him,” he promised. “This battle is mine.”
She searched his eyes for the truth in his words. “I have your word on that?”
“You have my word.”
She swiped the tears from her cheeks with the backs of her hands and drew in a heavy breath. “All right.” She pulled out of his arms. “I just need to kiss him goodbye.”
Sloan stepped back for her to pass.
Rachel struggled to pull herself together while Sloan said something in Spanish to the old woman who hovered near the door. Rachel’s chest ached with every beat of her heart. She held her breath and fought a new rush of tears. She had to be strong. Josh’s life depended upon her strength right now. She had Sloan’s word that everything would be all right, and she had to trust that. Victoria Colby’s statement resounded in her ears. Someone I would trust with my own life.
“Don’t wake him,” Sloan said, drawing Rachel’s attention back to him. “There’s no point in upsetting the kid. Pablo will be with him when he wakes.”
“Sí, señora.”
Rachel turned to Pablo who had stepped from the shadows. This all felt too surreal. This place—a place the rest of the world has forgotten, Sloan had said— felt too surreal.
“Hurry, Rachel.” Sloan ushered her toward the small door. �
�We have to get back.”
Rachel felt confused. Why did they have to hurry? Why couldn’t they stay until morning and then she could explain things to Josh. She swallowed with monumental difficulty. Because Angel was coming. He might be there by morning.
The old woman blurted something in the alien language that definitely wasn’t entirely Spanish. Another plea for her to hurry, Rachel supposed. Suffering that strange detached feeling again, she ducked her head and stepped back into the rustic hut.
Josh slept soundly, completely oblivious to the life-altering circumstances happening around him. Tears welled in her eyes once more and Rachel cursed herself for being so weak. She knelt beside her baby and kissed his smooth cheek. She brushed the dark hair from his face and smiled, committing to memory once more just how beautiful her child was.
“I love you, Josh,” she whispered. Her hand trembled as she caressed his baby soft hair. “Mommy’ll be back for you soon. I promise.” She kissed him one more time then pushed to her feet and rushed out the door without looking back.
She stood only a few feet from where her baby lay sleeping while Sloan gave Pablo his final instructions. Rachel wanted to scream her agony. She shuddered with the need of it. She scrubbed the tears from her eyes and battled the rampant trembling in her body. She had to do this, she repeated silently. When Angel was dead, she would be back. Sloan had promised.
And Angel would die.
“It’s time to go.” Sloan took her by the arm and propelled her forward.
Rachel glanced back one last time at the tiny primitive hut where her son slept. No force on earth would keep her from her son.
She would be back.
Chapter Eight
“We need to move quickly, a storm is coming.”
Rachel felt numb. Why didn’t he just leave her? She faltered in her forward movement, hoping he would do just that. Her feet felt too heavy to lift for the next step. She wanted to go back to the village and cradle her son in her arms.
“We don’t want to be caught in the open when it hits,” he added, his words meaningless to her.
Not really caring, but knowing that he wanted her to heed his words, Rachel surveyed the sky. As she watched, a dark mass of clouds moved across the moon. The wind was stronger now. Maybe Sloan was right about the weather. She knew little of the weather changes here, and cared even less at the moment. She was too heartsick to worry about trivial issues like the weather. She swallowed, fighting the renewed urge to cry.
How could she leave Josh like that? Reason told her that Sloan was right, he would be safest with Pablo and his people. But reason had never controlled her heart.
“Rachel—” Sloan’s deep voice resonated around her, summoning her attention to him once more “—we have to move faster.”
Reaching way down deep inside, Rachel found the grit to take another step, then another. When she had reached Sloan, she pushed harder, forcing her feet to cooperate…to take her farther away from her son. Her stomach roiled. Josh would cry when he woke and found her gone. He wouldn’t understand that his mommy had left him there for his own good. Tears welled in her eyes, a stinging reminder that she had no choice.
Rachel inhaled deeply of the cool night air. The scent was fresh, earthy. She listened to the sounds around her as she trudged onward. The hoot of an owl, the rustle of the leaves and branches in the wind. She pushed herself to climb more swiftly up the rugged path. Maybe if she ran as fast as she could, pushed her body harder than ever before, maybe then those awful, heart-twisting feelings wouldn’t catch up with her again.
Rachel had never left her son before. Not once in his life had she been separated from him. Not even in the hospital when he was born. His bassinet had been in the room with her. Except, she amended, for those few minutes the day she found Sloan. But that was the only time she and Josh had been apart. Would Pablo hold him when he cried? Would he understand the fear that would fill her little boy? Her heart banged painfully, keeping a rhythm of sorts with the words throbbing inside her head. Sloan’s rational words joined the others whirling there. Angel would never find Josh. An odd relief flooded her with that last thought. Even if the bastard killed her and Sloan, which was very possible, he would never find Josh.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Josh would be better off with Pablo’s people and their primitive culture than with the devil who was his father. Curiously, the thought of Angel searching high and low for his son without success gave Rachel perverse pleasure.
The dangerous path curved with the face of the cliffs then dipped downward. They were starting their descent already. With her thoughts so preoccupied, she hadn’t realized they had traveled so far. Rachel slowed as clouds once more concealed the moon. Sloan was behind her now. She didn’t have to look, and she sure couldn’t hear him, but he was there. She could feel him, just like always. She shivered with awareness. He moved with a stealth that was more animal like than human. The image of his muscular body moving over hers suddenly filled her mind. She shook her head to shatter the unbidden fantasy.
The feelings he elicited confused her—fear and desire; trust and danger. How could she desire a man she feared so completely? She couldn’t understand it. She trusted him, yet she knew from his words and the intensity in those piercing blue eyes that he personified danger. Her feelings softened at the memory of how he had held Josh in his arms tonight. And Josh had let him, even snuggled close to Sloan’s massive chest.
Holding her son that way was surely painful for Sloan. He had likely relived holding his own son in such a manner. But he hadn’t complained. Sloan suffered in silence. She remembered the story Victoria Colby had told her. How could any man, no matter how strong, survive such a devastating loss? But Sloan had. He drank too much, put himself in harm’s way every chance he got, but he survived. God surely had good things in store for a man who had suffered so very much and managed to survive day after day when a lesser man would have given up long ago. Sloan was a man of infinite courage.
Rachel considered Sloan’s usual indifference toward her and life in general, then his hot kisses. He tried so hard not to care, but like her, he couldn’t help himself. Not even where she was concerned. And he hated that fault, she realized with sudden clarity. He didn’t want to feel anything for her, and she could scarcely blame him. She had slept with the enemy. She shuddered at the memory of Angel’s touch. What a fool she had been. And yet, Sloan took her and Josh in, protected them. She had no doubt that he would give his own life to protect either of them. She hoped someday she would understand what made a man like Sloan give so very much for so little. He’d already given more than most.
Rachel hugged her arms around her middle. Could she do one thing for Sloan in repayment for all that he did for her and Josh? Sure she would pay his fee. Of course she had to nail him down to an amount before she could even do that. But that wasn’t enough. She shook her head. Not nearly enough. Could she somehow show him that it was safe to trust his feelings again? That life wasn’t only for those who had never been touched by the evil that had ripped his life apart? He deserved so much…she had to find a way to make him see that.
She would try. The decision made her almost giddy. If she could manage that one thing during the time she had left with Sloan, she would feel some sense of accomplishment. He needed to trust his heart again, to allow himself to feel. Rachel would give him that if it was within her power.
Distracted with her thoughts, her right foot slipped on the loose rocks. She lost her balance. Ice slid through her veins as she struggled to stay vertical. Her bottom hit the ground hard, her full body weight thrown into the downward momentum now. She slid precariously close to the ledge. Rachel grabbed at anything in her reach to slow her slide. There was nothing to hang on to. She twisted her body, clawed at the rocky earth beneath her.
Her legs went over the edge. Fear paralyzed her throat. Her fingers locked around something…a limb or protruding root. Dangling. Her body dangled in the air. She
refused to look down, though she was certain she could see nothing anyway. Sloan was calling her name, but she couldn’t look up either. She couldn’t move. All she could do was hang on to the limb that somehow protruded from the cliff.
“Dammit, Rachel, look at me.”
She was going to die. A laugh bubbled up in her tightly constricted throat. Fate apparently planned to save Angel the trouble of killing her. Josh. He would miss her so much. He’d never had anyone but her…this would be so hard for him.
A strong hand suddenly gripped her right forearm. Rachel frowned and stared at the wide hand. Sloan. What was he doing? Her brow pleated in worry. He needed to stay back, he was only going to make her situation worse. Or get hurt himself.
“If you want to live you’re going to have to help me out here,” he growled, jerking Rachel from her haze of shock.
“I…I can’t,” she stammered. Terror washed through her again. Her hold on the limb slipped. She grasped it more tightly. Her palms were sweating. Damn. “I can’t move.”
He pulled on her arm. Rachel shrieked. “You’re going to make me fall!”
“Damn it, you’re going to fall anyway. Now grab on to my arm!”
Rachel gulped a ragged breath. She commanded her left hand to release its death grip on the limb and reach for Sloan. Her arm trembling, she reached for him. Her right hand shook with the added effort of holding on, supporting her full weight. She latched onto Sloan’s shirtsleeve.
“I’m going to haul you up.” His voice was strained. “But you’re going to have to turn loose of the limb you’re holding first.”
The blood rushing through her body drowned out all sound but his voice. Turn loose of the limb, he had said. He wanted her to let go. But what if she fell? Or pulled him over the edge? The clouds parted, allowing the moon to spotlight her precarious situation. Her gaze connected with his fierce blue one. Her brain acknowledged the promise in those eyes.
“You have to trust me, Rachel,” he urged.
