by CJ Lyons
Vinnie stared at him with wide eyes. Then she turned back to the task of securing the splint.
“Can’t you gag him?” she asked as she worked. “I have some old socks I’ll contribute to the cause.”
“Might come to that,” Lucky muttered.
He’d rather get The Preacher talking more about his plans for tomorrow. The data on the hard drive was by no means complete. Lucky was certain there was more to learn from the militia leader. Vinnie turned to him, looked at him with an appraising glance.
“Your arm is worse,” she said, reaching up to slide his jacket away from his shoulders.
“It’s fine,” he said, trying to pull away. It was useless.
She took the jacket from him, sat him beside the fire, and helped him off with his shirts. Her dressing was still secure and there was no new bleeding, but everywhere she touched pain shot through his arm. And he’d noticed that he couldn’t raise it easily above his waist, it had been a struggle to keep hold of Chase’s leg earlier.
“You shouldn’t be using it. I think your AC joint is totally torn.”
“Doesn’t sound too bad,” he said, squirming under her attentions.
She found several new abrasions on his face and arms, probably from the shards of limestone that had ricocheted at him during the firefight. He was surprised by how long ago that seemed. He tried to hold still while she cleaned them, not liking the distant look in her face.
The same look she had had after they first met and she decided to guide him out of the wilderness. Finally, he took her hands and tugged her into his lap.
She was so close that he could smell her sweat, her fear. He glanced past her to where The Preacher sat with his back to them and lowered his forehead to touch hers so that they were scant inches apart.
“I’m not Michael,” he whispered, his hands tightening on hers. “We’re going to get out of this. I promise.”
Instead of comforting her, his words seemed to force her farther away from him. She gave a small nod and slipped away from him, moving into the other room.
Despite the heat from the fire, Lucky felt as if she had abandoned him to a frozen wasteland. Damn it, should have never brought up Michael. Why was it the ghost of her husband couldn’t stay dead and buried in her past?
He shook his head at his own foolishness. Michael was more than just Vinnie’s past, part of her heart had died with him.
But Lucky was certain that she had a heart big enough to share with two men, if she would just open herself to him. Just as he was certain that Vinnie held the key necessary to heal his own wounded heart, to give him hope again.
“The girls go out shopping?” Chase’s voice, weary but strong, came from the bed.
“You okay?” Lucky turned back to the bed as he shrugged into his shirt.
“Felt better.” Chase nodded to the dressing on Lucky’s shoulder. “What happened?”
“Just a little lead poisoning. How long you think before they,” Lucky jerked his head at The Preacher, “get up here?”
Chase winced, and Lucky didn’t think it was from pain. Rather from the thought that his mission here had been a failure. Chase Westin wasn’t accustomed to failing and was a poor loser, Lucky knew from first-hand experience. “Morning at the latest.”
Lucky figured as much. “Okay, then. Time for Plan B.”
Vinnie found KC outside in the clearing, searching the corpses of The Preacher’s fallen men. Stacked beside her was a small cache of weapons, ammunition and personal gear.
Vinnie joined her as she performed the gruesome task. The helicopter sat at the edge of the clearing, a ghostly black hulk against the snow, a creature from a Salvador Dali nightmare.
The sky was clear and stars flickered overhead, their light mingling with the pale illumination of the quarter moon. The woods were silent, more silent than Vinnie had ever heard them in all the years she had lived on the mountain. She shivered despite the down vest she wore, felt as if many unseen eyes were focused on her.
Waiting to pounce, to finish the job they had started last night.
“No ID,” KC said, from her position crouched in the snow beside the corpse. “But a few magazines of ammunition and seven more weapons. At least we’ll go down fighting.”
“I have an idea.” Vinnie hesitated. She was the amateur here, this was so clearly out of her area of expertise.
KC sat back on her heels and met her gaze. “You know the territory better than anyone, don’t be bashful about sharing any suggestions you have.”
“We need to get both Chase and Lucky medical attention. And I have the hard drive with the information about The Preacher’s plans on it. I can make it to the bottom of the mountain, get help before morning if I leave now.”
KC raised an eyebrow at that. “In over two feet of snow? With The Preacher’s men heading up the mountain anytime?”
Vinnie bit her lip. Maybe this was a mistake. But it was the only way they would have a chance. Anyone could see that no matter how much ammunition KC scrounged from dead men, sooner or later they would be overwhelmed by The Preacher’s men.
“Cross country skis—I’ve done it before in worse conditions.” She fluttered her fingers through the soft, freshly fallen powder. “I can avoid The Preacher’s men, they’ll be staying close to the road.”
Vinnie’s doubts were set aside as a slow smile spread across KC’s face and she nodded her approval. “How many pairs of skis do you have?”
“Two, but neither Chase nor Lucky—”
“The guys will just have to bach it,” KC said. “You’ll need someone to watch your back. I just wish there was a way we could take The Preacher with us. Hate the thought of him playing mind games with the boys all night.”
“It might be best to leave him here. In case they run out of time and need a hostage to negotiate with.”
“Right.” KC rolled to her feet without using her hands and reached down to help Vinnie up. “I like how you think, Vinnie. Let’s rock ‘n roll.”
CHAPTER 32
Lucky heard the women return and went to join them in the kitchen. They deposited a load of weapons and magazines onto the table and shed their outerwear.
KC aimed a mysterious smile at Vinnie before she moved past him to join Chase in the bedroom. One of those woman-with-a-secret kind of smiles that his sister used to drive him crazy with.
“What was that about?” he asked.
Saying nothing, Vinnie lit the propane stove and set a cast iron skillet to heat while she pulled eggs and sausage from her miniature refrigerator.
“Chase and I have been talking,” Lucky told her, watching her move as she prepared dinner. God, the woman even made cracking an egg look sexy. She broke two simultaneously in one hand with a graceful movement of her wrist. “We’ve come up with a few options.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. Fire surged below his belt at the sight of the delicate curve of her neck.
A short time ago she’d been close to death, had risked her own life, and now she was cooking him eggs. Christ if she wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
Focus, he told himself, shifting his weight, trying in vain to ease the pressure building inside him.
“Option one would be you and KC heading into the cave where you can protect the hard drive.” He paused, judging her mood and trying to not sound as if he and Chase were merely interested in protecting the women.
Why should they all die? At least this way someone could get the information to Rose Prospero and the others.
The sound of a chair being over turned in the other room had him on his feet, Taurus in his hand. Vinnie froze, spatula mid-air, then smiled as KC’s voice echoed from the back room.
“You’re an idiot, Chase Westin! There’s no way in hell I’m going to hide out in some dirty, stinking cave, so just forget it.”
“I think option one has been vetoed.” Vinnie returned to her cooking. The delectable aroma made Lucky’s mind spin, he almo
st forgot what he was saying.
“Okay, then it’ll be you and me in the cave.”
That got her attention. She whirled on him. The possibilities of a spatula as a deadly weapon occurred to him as fury sparked in her eyes.
KC appeared in the doorway between the two rooms, and Vinnie lowered the spatula.
“I’ve got mine on board,” KC said, sauntering over to sniff at the smoking skillet. “How ‘bout yours?”
The two women stood hip to hip, arms crossed akimbo, staring at Lucky. He met their gazes, feeling like maybe he and Chase should have come up with a better way to do this.
“City boy,” Vinnie said to KC, jerking her head at Lucky. “He’s too busy trying to tell me what to do to listen to what I have to say.”
“What do you want to say?” Lucky asked.
How was he supposed to know she had a plan of her own? But then again, ever since the moment he’d first met her, Vinnie always had a plan of her own.
Maybe it was hunger, muddling his thought processes. Or almost getting killed, getting shot at, watching Vinnie and his best friends almost get blown up, being trapped in a cabin with the man who killed him last month—take your pick.
“KC and I are going down the mountain. You and Chase will have to guard The Preacher until the cavalry arrives.”
“You’re what?” Lucky looked from one woman to the other. “How? No way—you’ll never make it.”
Vinnie began scooping heaping servings of eggs and sausage onto plates, handing two to KC. “He always so pessimistic?”
KC nodded. “Lucky likes facts, cause and effect—the unknown worries him.”
“Damn right it does,” Lucky said, resenting KC’s assessment. He wasn’t a pessimist—at least not until what happened last month. That night had pretty much proven that the worst usually did happen. “You’re one to talk, KC. Miss Prepare for the Worst, Hope for the Best.”
“Preparing doesn’t mean I always expect the worst,” she shot back.
Vinnie intervened. “Why don’t you and Chase eat in the other room? Lucky and I have some talking to do.”
KC wrinkled her nose at Lucky, then took the food into the other room. Vinnie brought two plates over to the table and sat down.
Lucky still stood with the Taurus in his hand. He set the weapon to one side and slumped into his seat. He didn’t like the look on Vinnie’s face. That calm, almost angelic expression.
Same one she’d had right before he’d lost every other argument that they had in the past twenty-four hours. That, say anything you like, I’m right and I know it, look.
“How are you going to get down the mountain?” He kept his voice neutral, the voice of reason. Logic would force her to abandon her crazy plan.
“Ski.” She nodded to the corner near the fireplace where two sets of skis leaned next to the door to the woodshed. “Good thing I treated myself to a new pair for Christmas.”
“You’re going to ski, in the dark, through a forest, down a mountain that’s crawling with The Preacher’s men?” It was difficult to keep the incredulity out of his voice.
He took a bite of food to cover his emotions and nearly wept for joy as his taste buds grabbed his attention away from their predicament. Delicious. The sausage had a different flavor than he’d ever tasted before.
“The road’s closed, so they’re stuck too. At least until daylight when they can get another helicopter up here.” She looked at him. “What? You don’t think I can do it? I know this mountain better than—”
Lucky shook his head. His objection to her plan had nothing to do with any doubts that Vinnie could succeed; she was maybe the only person who could pull this off.
“I don’t want you to go alone.” He almost choked on his words, looked down at his plate so that she wouldn’t see how hard this was for him.
“I won’t be alone. KC will be with me.” Her voice trailed off, and he felt her gaze on him. “Oh,” she breathed out the syllable and it circled in the air between them. “Lucky, you know—I mean, we talked, I told you—”
Lucky looked up, hopeful that her faltering meant she’d reconsidered. She had told him from the start that what they shared didn’t mean the same to her as it did to him, she’d been totally honest in that, he was the idiot who kept blundering into her boundaries, hoping that sooner or later they would crumble like the walls of Jericho.
That small flicker of hope died when he saw the distant look on her face. A hard look, as if she had steeled herself to disappoint him once more.
He saved her the trouble.
“I know,” he said. “My fault. A scientist should know better than to assume.”
“Lucky—”
He thought he heard pity in her voice and winced. Anything but that, he couldn’t bear that.
“What kind of sausage is this?” he asked, shoving his mouth full of food before he could say something else he would regret. “It’s really good.”
There was a long pause before she answered, but when she did her voice was back to normal. And once again, they were right back where they started. “Thanks. My mom’s recipe, it’s venison. The trick is using fresh sage and a pinch of fennel.”
They finished the meal in silence. While he stacked the dishes, she efficiently put together fanny packs with the necessities for her and KC. Vinnie rapped on the door before entering the bedroom, and a few seconds later KC emerged.
Lucky wasn’t sure what all she and Chase could be doing with The Preacher right there and Chase’s injury, but her face was flushed. Then he saw the red-rimmed eyes that her tears had left behind.
Maybe it was better Vinnie didn’t know how he felt. Easier on both of them. Well, at least one of them.
KC sniffed and began to sort through the weapons, but her hands shook slightly and her eyes kept darting back toward the bedroom. Lucky wished there was something he could say that would make her feel better about leaving Chase behind.
“Nothing’s going to happen to him while I’m around,” was the best he could come up with.
KC’s head snapped up, and her gaze locked onto his. “I’m going to hold you to that, Cavanaugh.”
CHAPTER 33
Vinnie wasn’t claustrophobic, but suddenly she felt like her cabin was too small, as if the walls were closing in and there wasn’t enough air to breathe.
No wonder, she thought, edging past The Preacher to reach her dresser. Too many people.
The only people who’d ever been here before were her parents and her supervising ranger. Never so many strangers, so much emotion cramped between the walls that she could feel it pressing down on her.
Chase’s pain and frustration at being immobilized. KC’s determination that she could save Chase along with her hatred of The Preacher.
Lucky’s fear, anger, despair, love—Lucky was the hardest to fight against. Vinnie felt his emotions, his feelings for her swirl around her, ready to swamp her as fast as a Class VI rapid.
She took a deep breath, her chest tight, fighting her. The worst thing was, she wanted to let Lucky pull her in.
Part of her wanted to drown, be overwhelmed by his love for her, to give in to his warmth, feed off his strength, enjoy the security of having a strong man at her side. She remembered so vividly how it felt, that feeling of finding your balance in a precarious universe, that nothing could ever hurt you again as long as he was there.
Vinnie was desperate to own that feeling again. And just as desperate to avoid the pain, the heart searing agony, that came when love was lost.
So she straddled the two extremes, like walking the tightrope bridge across the gorge that morning, hoping she could continue to maintain her balance between falling in love with Lucky and falling apart once she lost him.
“One foot in front of the other,” she whispered. Just don’t fall.
“You okay?” Chase’s voice cut through her musings.
“Yeah. Just want to change into some dry clothes before we go.” She rummaged through her dresser
drawers, grabbing CoolMax tights and top. She was going to be working hard, sweating during the trip down the mountain, so she didn’t want to overheat.
Her fingers brushed against a soft piece of cloth wrapped around a small piece of metal, and she froze.
Oh, God. She sniffed back tears and opened the man’s white handkerchief. An oval nickel medallion lay in the middle. The Archangel Michael, patron saint of police officers. Sure as hell hadn’t done her Michael much good.
Her fingers grew sweaty as she rubbed them over the medal’s embossed image. She closed her eyes for a moment, let the medal drop back into the drawer.
“KC said this was your idea.”
Vinnie grabbed the handkerchief and her bundle of clothing, turned to face Chase. He wasn’t angry like she thought he might be. Instead he smiled at her.
“It was a good idea. Thank you.”
“For what?” The Preacher’s snide voice cut in. “Getting your woman killed?”
“Why don’t you just shut up!” Vinnie snarled, whirling on the captive man. “Lucky came back from the dead to defeat you last month, we both outsmarted you how many times today? You don’t scare me, you son of a bitch.”
The odious man merely craned his head back and grinned at her. “Maybe not yet,” he whispered. “But, I promise you, Mrs. Ryan, next time we meet, I will.”
Vinnie walked away, trying to ignore the knot of fear that choked her throat. She returned to the kitchen and quickly changed. KC was ready to go as well. Now or never, Vinnie thought.
One last thing to do before she went. Just in case. Lucky sat, watching her in silence, his face showing more pain than it had after he was shot. Vinnie hesitated. God, she hated doing this. KC took the skis outside to the porch, giving them both one last look before she shut the door.
Vinnie moved to stand beside Lucky, uncertain how to say what she wanted to say without hurting him further. “I promised I would get you off this mountain alive,” she started. “I always keep my promises.”
