by Devyn Quinn
“I’ve had target practice, of course,” she admitted. “But as for shooting to kill, I’ve never done anything like that. You?”
“I’ve killed my share of game with a hunting rifle.” Climbing to his feet, Jesse pulled out the pistol they’d borrowed from the deceased smugglers. “Never killed anything with a handgun, though I suppose the principle of aim and fire is the same.” He checked the magazine, loaded with bullets. “The ammunition was dry when we found it, so it should be good. Still, you never quite know. I’d hate to pull the trigger and have this puppy blow up in my hand.”
Dakoda shook her head. “Let’s just go back to what we agreed, then. Self-defense, only. We won’t use it unless we have to.”
He tucked the gun away. “I can agree to that. As for the food, well, I guess we’ll just have to break the no-fire rule. I don’t know about you, but I hate my birds raw.”
She scrubbed her hands over her face. “Did you say we could have a fire?”
“Honestly, I don’t see how we can go much longer without one. I know we don’t want to give away our position if those guys are on our trail, but if they’re out after us, I don’t think they’d do without one themselves, especially with the nights as cool as they are. The one good advantage we have is the storm wiped out all traces of our escape. There was no way we left any tracks behind. They can only guess.”
Dakoda sighed. “If we’re going the wrong way, maybe they are, too.”
Jesse started to strip off his shirt. “Meanwhile, we’ve got to keep ourselves as strong as possible. If there’s one thing I can do, it’s hunt. But I’m better on four paws than I am on two feet.”
She hesitated. “Jesse…are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Draping his shirt over a nearby branch, Jesse kicked off his moccasins and started to shimmy out of his jeans. “I know we said we’d stick together, Dakoda. But if we’re going to eat better, I need to shift. I’m faster and can cover more territory when I’m a cougar.”
Feeling the bottom drop out of her stomach, Dakoda licked dry lips. Oh, man. Jesse was naked again, and looking just as hot as she remembered. The heat in her gut coiled around her insides, bringing back pleasant memories of the night they’d spent in the plane making love. Two days had passed since they’d last had an intimate moment, something Dakoda found herself daydreaming about with more and more frequency. Thinking about sex was a lot more realistic than thinking about food. She had a much better chance of getting some.
She shook her head, chasing away the fantasy. First necessities, then luxuries. As much as she didn’t like the idea of Jesse going off alone, the idea of staying together and staying hungry was just as unappealing. No, she was going to have to let him go, and hope he wouldn’t meet something out in those woods that was bigger and meaner than a cougar.
Or little and more poisonous, her mind filled in. That timber rattler they’d encountered earlier in the day had almost planted its nasty fangs right in the middle of Jesse’s leg. It was just the time of year when the snakes began to emerge from hibernation. The fact that they were active during the day didn’t make walking any easier. The snakes blended in perfectly with the dead leaves and other debris littering the ground. Though naturally docile and not a threat to humans, the snakes would react with violence if disturbed. Jesse had only avoided a venomous bite by moving a little bit faster than the snake.
She shuddered at the idea of what other sort of critters they were likely to meet. Staying out here any longer than necessary wasn’t exactly appealing, but it sure did beat being sold into slavery as a curiosity.
Dakoda put her boots back on, lacing them tight. “What can I do while you’re gone?” she asked, needing something to keep her mind occupied in his absence. Just sitting around waiting didn’t appeal to her. She liked to be busy, and contributing the aid of her two good hands was someplace to start. As for her ankle, well, she’d managed to tough it out almost two whole days. She’d just get a little tougher.
Hanging his jeans beside his shirt, Jesse looked around the place they’d stopped. Overhanging trees offered a cool retreat from the worst of the day’s heat. Water winding through the mountains on its way to the Catawba River had cut deeply into the terrain, forming rugged and steep slopes. Nearby, a thin stream trickled down a short incline, draining into the belly of a rocky little reservoir. The recent summer rains had filled it to overflowing.
Jesse nodded with satisfaction. “I think this will do as our campsite for the night,” he said. “We’ve got water and there’s enough rocks and wood for you to make a fire while I’m hunting. I shouldn’t be gone very long, just enough to snag a nice fat grouse.” He handed the precious lighter over to Dakoda. “Keep it as smokeless as possible. The trees will dissipate most of it, but we still don’t want to give away our location to anyone.”
Fumbling to keep a hold on the lighter, Dakoda nodded. “I can make it smokeless.”
He grinned. “A benefit of that ranger training, I suppose.”
It was hard not to stare at his beautiful muscular frame. Dakoda made herself look anywhere but at that delicious cock nestled in a dark thatch of curls. “I did have some training in surviving in the wilderness,” she said, her voice going a little more hoarse than normal. She shook her head, clearing her throat. Hopefully he would mistake desire for fatigue. “Though I will admit I was a little bit better supplied. That will teach me not to sign up for the extreme survival classes. Learning firsthand has been hell.”
Jesse lifted a chiding brow. “Considering we’ve been though hell, I’d say we’ve done pretty good,” he said quietly. “And once we get some solid food in us, we’ll do better.”
Dakoda smiled in agreement. If she had to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, she was glad Jesse Clawfoot was her companion. Somehow he had a way of putting things into perspective without totally depressing the hell out of her. “Food will be welcome.”
“Guess I should get going,” he said. “The sooner I do, the sooner we eat.”
“Okay.”
Before she could blink an eye, Jesse shifted. The familiar outline of a feline stood in his place. Dakoda’s breath caught at the ease of his change, so smoothly done that one could scarcely tell when his human self vanished and the big cat appeared. It didn’t matter. Either way he was beautiful, a true wild creature of nature. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Jesse belonged in these mountains. They were the life, the strength of his people.
Giving a brief roar of acknowledgment, Jesse pushed his tawny frame into motion. Dashing off through the trees, he quickly disappeared through a nearby thicket at top speed. The chances were good he’d soon be able to flush some wildfowl or other small mammal out into the open.
Anticipating his success, Dakoda set to work. She wanted to have a good, hot fire going by the time he returned.
18
Taking off her jacket and stashing the few items they had in a shady spot, Dakoda rolled up her sleeves and went to work. With almost four days’ wear, her uniform was a filthy mess. She eyed the river, considering a quick dip. She’d never been so filthy in her entire life.
I’ll get a bath later, she decided. First some food, then some play.
Locating a clear spot under the trees, Dakoda raked away all the debris on the ground, raking a patch down to bare earth. Finding a slightly curved stone, she used it as a hand tool to dig a shallow hole in the ground, about a foot wide and almost as deep. She circled the small pit with stones, then lined the bottom and sides. Once they heated, the stones would double the temperature of the fire. A larger, flatter stone provided a perfect surface to prepare food on.
Finding wood dry enough to burn clean presented a bit of a problem. Recent rains had drenched the area, leaving everything a little damp. Smoke was caused by damp wood. It took some scouting around to find something she thought she could use. She didn’t pick up a lot of tinder, instead choosing average-sized pieces that would burn out completely and quickly. A log would smoke t
oo much, as would twigs, leaves, or needles. Her goal was to keep it small, hot, fiery, and dry with no debris.
Once she located enough to fill the pit, Dakoda set to getting the fire going. Since using kindling was out, she did the next best thing, adding a sprinkling of tequila over the wood. The liquor was highly flammable and would act as an accelerant. Having drunk almost half a bottle a few nights ago, they’d decided to hang on to the rest for medicinal purposes, adding it to the first-aid kit. While starting a fire wasn’t exactly the way they’d decided to use it, Dakoda decided hunger was a definite potential emergency.
I want to eat, she thought. The sooner the better.
It took only minutes to get a cheery fire going. The wood burned clean, giving off almost no smoke. An occasional light breeze fanned the flames, causing them to snap and crackle in the pit.
Tossing a few extra pieces into the pit, she decided to see what she could add to the day’s meal. The mountains could provide quite a bounty to the knowledgeable hunter. Only the stupid would starve.
She set to digging around the bases of the trees and bushes, clearing away leaves. Her search turned up a cluster of mushrooms with broad round caps.
Edible or not?
Dakoda examined her find. During survival training, she’d learned how to discern the edible from the poisonous. She already knew to strictly avoid any parasol-shaped mushrooms with white gills and any little brown mushrooms. Round or pear-shaped mushrooms were sometimes safe to eat.
Picking one, she examined the bright orange cap. Smooth and hairless, it became wavy at the edge. Encouraged by the look, she broke it open. The flesh inside was firm and white, tinged with yellow and smelled fruity, like apricots. There was no sign of insect infestation or other decay.
Pay dirt.
“Hot damn.” She gathered the mushrooms up and carried them to the nearby stream, washing away the dirt and grit. Speckled brook trout darted beneath the surface, indignant at the disturbance. “Man, what I wouldn’t give to have a nice fishing pole about now.”
On her way back to the fire she spotted another possible source of nutrition, a smattering of Queen Anne’s Lace. The umbel of tiny white flowers looked vaguely like a crown. But it wasn’t the flowers she wanted, but what was underneath. Wild carrots.
As she unearthed the tiny, tender roots, a bit of trivia about the plant crept into her mind. The crushed seeds of the plant had long been used as a natural contraceptive by native women.
The possibility she could become pregnant was one she’d refused to think about these last few days. As a single, unattached woman, she’d decided to decline the use of a contraceptive. If and when she met someone she wanted to sleep with, she could easily go back on birth control. What she hadn’t foreseen was that she would meet a man she wanted to have sex with—in a circumstance where not even a condom could be had. At the time the belief death was imminent had spurred her passion on. She’d clung to Jesse for comfort and support during their first harrowing night together. The consequences that might arise from their lovemaking hadn’t been a concern at the time.
Now, they were.
Dakoda did a quick bit of calculation. “Shit,” she breathed. “What if I’m pregnant?” Her mind whirled in near panic. It was true she and Jesse seemed to fit together now, but what would happen when they returned to the real world, to the paths they’d been walking before one overlapped the other?
It didn’t take a genius to figure out imprisonment automatically forced people into an alliance. In this case, they had shared the desire to escape captivity. How could she be sure her feelings for Jesse were real, and not just the psychology of a victim at work? Was it possible she was really falling in love with him? She understood lust, a purely physical, hormonally driven craving that was easily satisfied. Love was different, way outside her sphere of experience. Singers composed songs, poets wrote flowery odes, writers even wrote romances where happily ever after was the rule. Real life was different, though, and some else’s emotions were a messy thing to deal with.
Running away was an easy solution. It had worked for years. Now, there was noplace to go. And in having to stop and face herself, Dakoda had to admit she was tired of holding men at arm’s length. Jesse had done more than mesmerize her with his fantastic body. He’d wormed his way into her life, coiling around her heart and tying tight knots. Inescapable knots.
Every morning they awoke together the first thing she wanted to do was make love to him. Even though they were out in the open and exposed to all sorts of danger, she somehow felt safe, content even, curled in Jesse’s protective embrace.
She hadn’t seriously cared for a man since Ashton Jenkins, and he was a father figure, not a lover. She believed she wasn’t the kind of woman destined to fall in love, since she’d never wanted to stay long with any man—a remnant of her mother’s bad habits. Truth be told, she just didn’t have enough faith in her own staying power. It was easier to pick up and run than it was to commit. If she ran first, she wouldn’t be the one who got hurt.
But are my feelings for Jesse real? she asked herself. Damn, if they didn’t feel that way. The way her gut clenched when she believed he was in danger…The way she craved his touch…The way she looked forward to evening’s fall, so they could find a safe, warm nook and curl up together…Desire rose inside her like slow, rolling thunder.
Oh, hell! Dakoda knew then she’d been bitten by the love bug. It was the real thing and she was in deep, way over her head and struggling to keep afloat. She wished she felt more secure with the realization. But considering the complications of starting a new relationship under such duress, all she felt was confused and more than a little bit lost. It would have been pure and absolute bliss if her mind could slow down, but it couldn’t. One thought inevitably led to another.
Well, that answered at least one question. As for the other, it was probably best not to mention the possibility of a baby until she was absolutely sure where she stood with Jesse. Giving him something else to worry about when they were still in such deep trouble wouldn’t be fair to either of them. They were both physically and mentally stressed, under a lot of pressure. Those weren’t exactly the ideal circumstances for making a baby.
She sighed. “I’ll pull a Scarlett, and think about it tomorrow.” Finished gathering the cache of carrots, she washed and carried them back to camp. Right now it wouldn’t do any good to think beyond the present. Each hour of each day was already enough of a challenge to get through. There was no reason to pile on the complications when there weren’t any to deal with.
Yet.
Dakoda sat back on her haunches, pleased with her haul. She hoped Jesse would be, too. Who would have guessed a thoroughly modern woman who didn’t have a single skill in the kitchen would be able to settle into domesticity so easily? In her world, any thought of cooking usually involved a frozen entrée and a glass of wine.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her it would soon need an infusion of real food and not just nibbles at carrots and mushrooms. She was trying to hold off eating them, hoping to add them to whatever Jesse might bring back. He’d been gone a long time. Even in his cougar form, there were a lot of dangerous things he could run into. One wrong step down a jagged ridge could break a bone. Not to mention the fact cougars weren’t the only dangerous predator living in these mountains. Black bears and bobcats, not to mention the timber rattlers and other crawlies like centipedes.
A crash of brush alerted her to his return. He pushed through a hedge of growth, trotting into the little clearing. A nice fat brown rabbit dangled from his mouth.
Setting the rabbit down on the grass, Jesse shifted back into human form. “Damn, that little bastard could run,” he said, heading toward the stream. He walked with a lithe and feral grace, perfectly at home in this wilderness. His male beauty was spectacular. Simply stunning.
Wading into the cool water, Jesse doused himself from head to foot, rinsing the sweat and grime off his deeply tanned skin.
&nb
sp; Speechless, mute, and strangled with need, Dakoda stared with pure admiration as the water sluiced over the hard planes of his shoulders, trickling down his back to caress the curves of his finely molded ass. He looked magnificent when he lifted his arms, brushing a mass of long, dark, soaking tendrils away from his face. For a moment she could have easily mistaken him for a water spirit rising from clear sparkling depths.
A slow burst of heat spread through her core when he walked back on shore, striding toward her like a god about to conquer his chosen virgin. Snagging his jeans, he slipped them on, then shoved his bare feet into his moccasins.
Enjoying the view, Dakoda grinned up at him. “Feel better?”
Jesse walked over to the fire she’d built. “Much,” he said, eyeing her handiwork. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”
She poked the fire with a stick and added more wood. “I found some mushrooms and wild carrots. Not much, but it’ll add to what you caught.”
Jesse retrieved the dead rabbit. “I have to admit I’m hankering for a good hot meal. Just need to skin it and get it ready for roasting.” He pulled out the stolen pocketknife, unfolding a sharp blade.
Dakoda gulped at the thought of the rabbit’s guts spilling out before its skin was ripped away from its body. “Anything I can do?” she asked, eager not to witness the entire process. While she had no objection to eating meat and frequently partook of a nice cut of steak or a plump chicken breast, she’d never been up close and personal with regard to the slaughter of said animal.
Jesse looked up from the carcass. “If you could find some thick green branches to make a spit out of, that would be great.”
Dakoda nodded. “I think I can manage that.” She trotted off before the urge to vomit hit full-force. Aside from nibbling some mushrooms and carrots, her stomach was empty and she didn’t want to be caught dry heaving.
19
