Rocky Mountain Fugitive

by Ann Voss Peterson

“Whether he finds something at the place where Randy was headed or not, he’ll turn himself in, just not to Sheriff Gillette.”

  Layton watched her under bushy brows. “And you can promise me that?”

  “Yes.” She wasn’t sure how Eric would feel about her promise. But he’d have to understand she was struggling to do the best she could…and she had to pray it was the right thing.

  Layton tilted his head to the side, a gesture that usually showed he was softening.

  “So you won’t call the sheriff?”

  “I have to report Lander was here, Sarah. It’s against the law to keep something like that to myself.”

  “But you’ll wait a bit? Give him a chance to find out why Randy was killed?”

  He let out a groan and shook his head. “God help me.”

  Sarah’s whole body felt spongy with relief. She’d hoped she could explain the situation to Layton, make him understand, but she’d had her doubts. And while she wouldn’t be surprised if he called the sheriff first thing in the morning, at least Eric would have a head start.

  Unfortunately that wasn’t all he needed. “I hate to ask you for more, Layton, but…”

  “What is it?”

  “Can Eric borrow some supplies and equipment?”

  A chuckle rumbled low in his chest. He shook his head, not in a way that indicated he was turning her down, but in an “I can’t believe you’d ask” sort of way.

  “You can tell the sheriff he stole it.”

  “What does he need?”

  “Water, food, climbing gear.”

  “Fine.”

  “And the ATV?”

  “That belongs to the ranch, and you know it. Where I’m sitting, he’s going to have to ask you if he wants to borrow that.”

  “Thank you, Layton. Thank you so much.” She reached up to him and he gathered her into a hug.

  The warm scent of pipe smoke and fresh air made her throat clench. And for a moment she felt like she was a little girl once more, with Layton always there to watch out for her. Always there to make things right.

  Too bad this time the problem was far too big for him to make it go away.

  ERIC SORTED THROUGH ROPES, harnesses and assortment of carabiners and other equipment Layton stored in the barn. Jamming the gear into a pack alongside protein bars, water and a small first-aid kit, he tried to push the myriad of what-ifs to the back of his mind. He’d cleaned the cut on his head, even if it did still throb like a son of a bitch. Now that he had transportation, food, water and most of the equipment he needed, he was in good shape to make the trek to Saddle Horn Ridge. That didn’t mean he was eager to leave Sarah behind.

  The ranch foreman had promised to keep their secret and keep Sarah safe, but Eric still felt uneasy about the whole thing. He never could read Layton. The foreman was good at keeping his feelings squirreled away, at least those other than contempt for Eric. But though Sarah trusted him, Eric didn’t.

  Sarah stuck her head into the tack room. Their clothes had been dried, and she was wearing an oversized coat provided by Layton. Her black-and-white shadow padded into the barn and laid down at her feet. “The ATV is gassed up and ready.”

  So this was goodbye. He felt a little shaky in the pit of his stomach. “You’re sure Layton isn’t phoning the sheriff as we speak, so he can head me off at the ridge?”

  “He promised.”

  “And you believe him.”

  “He’s never let me down before.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Eric?”

  A little jolt shimmered up his spine at her tone. “What is it?”

  “I…” She pressed her lips together as if trying to keep words from slipping past. She raised her hand to touch him, then let it fall to her side. “Good luck is all.”

  He reached out a hand and skimmed it down her arm. What he wouldn’t give to be able to pull her into his arms right now. Take her in a kiss. Show her all the things he couldn’t let himself feel, couldn’t let himself want. He blew out a breath and pushed his clamoring feelings down. “Thanks.”

  The tack room door flew open. Layton pushed inside. His gray hair was tousled, as if he’d been running agitated hands through it. His eyes gaped wide with alarm. “You got to get out of here. Now.”

  Sarah stared at him, blood draining from her face and forcing her lips taut. “The sheriff?”

  “He’s on his way.”

  Eric finished shoving the equipment into the pack and yanked the zipper home. “How did he know we’re here?”

  “A neighbor? A hunch? I don’t know. But he just called me. Started asking questions.” Layton motioned for them to move, scooping the air with his hands.

  A neighbor? Layton didn’t have any neighbors, not for miles. Of course it probably didn’t take a big guess for the sheriff to figure Sarah would go to the closest place she could for help. Layton’s. Not that the reason mattered. The only thing important now was getting the hell out of here. He was grateful Layton tipped him off. “What did you tell him?”

  “That I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I don’t think he believed me. And Sarah?”

  She looked up at the older man.

  “What you said before about the sheriff? It’s true. He isn’t just after Lander. He wants you, too. You’ll have to go with Lander after all.”

  Sarah nodded, that determined set returning to her jaw.

  Eric stifled a protest. As much as leaving Sarah bothered him, having her go with him to the ridge was not what he would choose. “It’s too risky.”

  Layton gave him a sideways glance. “Believe me, it’s not my choice. I don’t want her near you.”

  Sarah nailed him with a determined glare. “The sheriff’s on his way. I’m going.”

  Eric hesitated, then forced a nod. He couldn’t very well leave her here. Not with the sheriff bearing down on her. No matter what happened, he had to make sure she was safe.

  Shoving extra climbing equipment into the backpack, he glanced down at Radar. The dog had been lying flat out on his side a moment ago, but now he crouched, staring at Sarah as if waiting for a command so he could fly into action and fix everything the humans were upset about.

  Eric didn’t want to say anything. Sarah had lost so much in the past hours. Randy. Her belief in the law. Every shred of security she’d known. He knew that to her, giving up Radar would feel like the ultimate blow. But there was nothing he could do. “What about your dog?”

  Sarah sucked in a breath. She ran her fingers over the black-and-white head.

  Layton rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Can’t take a dog on an ATV.”

  She nodded and swiped at her cheeks with the back of one hand. It didn’t work. Tears wound down her cheeks, reflecting the barn light in mirrored rivulets. “Will you take him?”

  “You know I will.”

  She parted her lips to speak, then covered them with a hand as if holding back a sob.

  Layton rubbed a hand over her shoulder. “I’ll stall the sheriff as long as I can.”

  “Thank you, Layton.” Sarah reached up and hugged him.

  When she released him, he shooed them out the door. “Hurry.”

  Layton grabbed the backpack and helped Sarah slip it on her shoulders while Eric climbed on the all-terrain vehicle. He started it up, the engine buzzing loudly in the night. Sarah climbed on behind.

  The foreman raised a hand in a wave as they sped away, his eyes glistening in the yard light.

  Chapter Six

  Each jolt of the ATV over rock and sage shuddered up Eric’s spine and throbbed through his head, as if the very landscape was beating on him. The engine roared loud in the quiet night. At least it had stopped raining. With any luck, the snow wouldn’t be too deep, at least not at lower elevations like Saddle Horn Ridge. But although the calendar said early June, spring had yet to arrive in many parts of the mountains.

  He focused on the wrap of Sarah’s arms around his waist, the warmth of her thighs p
ressing to the back of his. Even though the rain was long since over, the night air was downright cold as it rushed past. He could feel her shiver as she pressed against him. At least she now had a coat, thanks to Layton.

  Obviously the foreman shared Eric’s need to protect her. The urge never made sense. She was the strongest woman he’d ever known. She took care of others, animal and human alike. She never seemed to need anyone.

  Of course, the jumble of feelings that overwhelmed him whenever he was around Sarah never made a lot of sense. In the rest of his life, he was controlled, logical. But as soon as he saw the way she tilted her chin, heard her voice or touched her skin, he lost all reason. All he could think of was her.

  He had to keep his mind clear if he wanted to get out of this mess.

  They reached the mountains just as the first evidence of dawn started glowing from the east. As the light grew, driving became easier. The ATV could carry them farther up the mountain than his truck had allowed, cutting hours off the trip he and Randy had taken on foot. Good thing. After a night of no sleep and a lifetime’s worth of trauma, the only thing keeping either of them going was adrenaline. And who knew how long that could last?

  The ATV bucked at every bump. The pitch grew steeper. Eric settled into a switchback trail nearby guest ranches used to take tourists through the area on horseback. They wove back and forth up the side of the slope, until the pitch grew too steep and the trail circled back. Stopping the ATV behind a jut of rock, Eric switched off the engine. “We’re going to have to go the rest of the way on foot.”

  Sarah nodded and released his waist. She swung a leg over the seat and dismounted.

  Cool air fanned over his back where her warmth had been. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to have her back on the seat behind him, arms circling his waist.

  Stupid.

  He climbed off the ATV. His hands still vibrated from the feel of the handlebars. His ears buzzed with silence, now that the roar of the engine was gone. He focused on Sarah. Her skin was the color of aspen bark. Dark circles cupped under chocolate eyes that glistened with fatigue. She was far more exhausted than he’d even guessed. “Take a few minutes and sit down.”

  “I’m fine.” She raised her chin in that way he’d once thought was sexy.

  Now it struck him as nothing but stubborn. “You look like you’re about to keel over.”

  She nodded her head toward the east. The glow of sunlight pinked the horizon. “The sun is going to be up any second. We don’t have time to sit down.”

  She was right. As much as she needed to rest, they couldn’t afford the delay. It had taken them a good long time to make it to the base of Saddle Horn Ridge. Pickups traveling paved roads would make it here a lot faster, although they’d have to cover more miles and couldn’t drive as far up the mountainside. Unfortunately that small time advantage would be eaten up by the detour Eric planned to take. They needed every second they could get. “We’ll keep going then. But I’ll carry the pack.”

  She shrugged the backpack off her shoulders and handed it to him.

  The pack was heavy in his hand, weighed down with harnesses and ropes, water and food. He slung it onto his back. “Let’s go.”

  He stepped off the switchback trail and started picking his way over sage and around rock. Most of mountain climbing was a matter of walking uphill. It didn’t involve ropes or vertical rock faces. It was about hiking, pure and simple. But that didn’t mean it was the same thing as following a trail. Eric scanned the terrain ahead, aware of every rock and crevasse and ripple of the wind. Off-trail hiking was about being present, being aware. Of the surroundings, of animals, of the weather, of the capabilities of one’s own body. It was about being awake in the present and being able to guess the future. And guiding meant he was responsible for Sarah as well.

  The sun warmed their backs as it rose in the sky, beating down strong, even though the mountains still boasted a good amount of snow along their peaks. They worked their way through vegetation raging from the ever-present sage to tall stands of lodgepole pine and subalpine fir. The roar of a waterfall hung in the thinning air, though the creek itself was over a mile away.

  Finally Saddle Horn Ridge loomed above them, stretching between two peaks. The ridge wasn’t a common tourist destination, but the few guides working the area knew it was there. Most of the area itself was flat and sheltered from sometimes brutal mountain winds, an ideal spot for camping. On one side, a rock formation rose. A shifted slab of rock capped the top of the formation, giving it the appearance of the horn on a western saddle.

  On one end of the long ridge, a vertical rock face rose nearly to the ridge itself. Made of hard, volcanic rock, like the rest of the Absaroka Range, this was one of the best and least known climbing areas north of the Tetons. It was also the cliff he and Randy had been scaling when the deputies had opened fire.

  Eric turned away from the stretch of rock and started through a long stand of lodgepole pine.

  “Where are you going?”

  “We’ll circle to the other end of the ridge. Most of the terrain is hikable on that side.”

  “Won’t that take a lot longer?” She tilted her face to the east, no doubt checking the position of the sun.

  “A little. But it’s easier. Multipitch climbs can be slow, tough going.”

  “You don’t think I can do it.”

  Under normal circumstances, he might let her. She was pretty advanced. If she was in practice, she could probably handle it. They’d done some climbing together last September before the snow hit. Before he realized how important to him she was becoming. But circumstances were different now. “It’s not a simple climb. We’ve both been through a lot in the past few hours.”

  “I told you, I’m fine. I can make it.”

  He hadn’t believed her then, and he didn’t believe her now. But her obvious fatigue wasn’t the only reason he wanted to avoid this stretch. Just the sight of that rock face made a shudder travel through him and his head ache to high heaven. “We’ll go through the pass and up the other side. It won’t take much longer.”

  “But it will take longer. Do you really think we can afford that extra time?”

  He didn’t know. He was surprised they hadn’t heard vehicles yet. Or helicopters. But to lead Sarah up that face? “We’ll move fast. A climb like that is too dangerous.”

  “And letting the sheriff catch up to us isn’t?”

  “I’m not going to let you get caught on that face….”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  He pulled in a breath and gritted his teeth. He’d said too much. Way more than he should have. “Let’s move. Now.”

  “This is the spot, isn’t it?” She turned away from him and peered up at the rock face.

  He started walking, heading for the pass.

  “It’s the spot where Randy…”

  He slowed his steps. The pain in her words hollowed out a pit below his rib cage. He turned to face her and reached out a hand. “Come on. We’ll follow the pass. It will be better.”

  “Where? Where did it happen?”

  “Sarah, come on.”

  “Tell me. Please.”

  With that last whispered word, he felt the walls inside him crumble. A torrent of pain and regret filled his throat.

  PRESSURE BUILT AROUND the edges of Sarah’s eyes and stung through her sinuses. “Please, Eric. I have to know.” She’d never understood the need of survivors to mark the spot where a loved one died. Every time she passed a cross on the side of the highway or flowers woven into a chain-link fence, she’d felt uneasy, as if she was witnessing a very personal pain, something that should be shielded from the public.

  She understood now.

  She needed to know exactly where Randy had taken his last breath. She needed to mark the spot, if only in her mind, in order to make any of it feel real.

  He watched her for what had to be a full minute. “About three quarters of the way up. See the shelf of rock?”
/>   She followed the direction of his pointing finger. “Near the top of those trees?”

  “Yes.”

  She saw it. What looked like a smear of something brown on the stone. A trick of the noon sun…or her brother’s blood? She couldn’t tell.

  Shivers fanned out over her skin. Her chest heaved in a barely controlled sob. She half expected him to still be there. Hanging in his climbing harness. Or lying in the short slope of scree at the bottom of the rock face. But she knew he wouldn’t be. He would be at the morgue, his body dissected, his wounds used as evidence to frame Eric for his murder. “Was he in pain?”

  “No…no.” His voice hitched.

  She could tell by his hesitation that wasn’t entirely true.

  She closed her eyes, trying to block the tears. Randy was gone. Murdered on this spot. And now nothing was left but to find out why. And make sure the same fate didn’t fall on Eric or her…or their unborn child.

  Nausea swirled in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t suffered morning sickness for a couple of weeks now, but it seemed a touch had caught up to her in the stress of the past hours. Maybe it had nothing to do with the baby. Maybe it was seeing the spot where Randy died. Or leaving Radar behind with Layton. Or maybe the confusion of all that had happened.

  “Sarah. Is there something…”

  She took a deep breath and braced herself before turning back to Eric.

  His eyes focused on her belly.

  She hadn’t realized she was shielding her middle with her forearm. But she could tell by the expression on his face he had. And along with probably the dozen other signals she’d subconsciously given, he had a guess as to what the protective gesture meant.

  Her throat went dry. “I was going to tell you.”

  “You’re pregnant.” He brought his eyes up to her face. For a long time, he just watched her. Struggling to make sense of her words, searching for words of his own, she didn’t know. But just as she was about to break the silence, he nodded. “It’s mine.”

  His voice sounded dead, void of emotion, and somehow that bothered her more than the anger and betrayal she’d imagined he’d feel in all the times she’d played this scenario out in her imagination. “Yes. The baby is yours.”