by Angi Morgan
“Nothing happened. It worked out.” Now wasn’t the time to apologize for not protecting her three years ago.
“Oh, good grief, Cord.” She took the last sip in the bottle and swallowed her last bite of energy bar. “Can we go now?”
It seemed the way to get Kate to be strong was to get her angry at him. But no matter what, she always wanted to talk. The shrink told him he needed to talk. He disagreed. He knew he’d failed her. Talking about that night wouldn’t change anything. Their baby would still be gone.
“Wait.”
“Why?” she asked. “Could you come over here? Just stand next to me. We don’t have to face each other to talk.”
She leaned against the rock face, clearly anxious that he’d been close to the edge. He moved closer, not wanting to cause her more hurt.
“You can’t climb as upset as you are.”
“I’m not upset, Cord. I mean, I didn’t want you to fall, of course. But I’m not upset. You’re right. Nothing happened. It’s great. So we leave. I wish I could have dried out my socks—”
“My shrink says I need to apologize.” He was glad he couldn’t see her face. The look of disappointment had to be there. Three years and he wasn’t fit for the field.
“You’re seeing a shrink?”
“Regulations. I have to be cleared for duty.”
“Oh,” she said on a deflated sigh. “Why does he think you need to apologize?”
“It’s complicated. I just...I just thought I should.”
“I don’t understand, Cord. What are you apologizing for, the divorce?”
“Why would I? I didn’t want it.” He crossed his arms, feeling as defensive as he sounded.
“You’re right. So what’s this apology your psychiatrist thinks you need to make?” She crossed her arms, waiting.
If she gave him an impatient sigh, he’d forget everything he’d thought about saying and just start climbing. He shoved his arms through the straps of the pack to secure it in place. Tilting his gaze, he saw where he’d grip the rocks for a quick escape. As soon as he forced the words out, he needed to get out of there fast. But his shrink had said no phones. For some reason there needed to be eye contact. His, mainly, something about it being more meaningful.
“Aw, hell.” He spun her around to look her in the eyes. He kept his hands on her shoulders, but she didn’t try to avoid his touch or squirm from his grasp. “I’m sorry I killed our baby girl, Kate. I wasn’t there to protect you. I know you hate me for it. I also know you’ll never be able to forgive me. I can’t forgive myself. I should have told you a long time ago, but I was in the hospital and then it seemed...we...well, I guess I just never had the right words.”
* * *
BACK INJURY OR NO, her ex-husband Texas Ranger Cord McCrea turned on a dime, knew exactly where he would grab hold and leaped a foot up the rock wall. Kate stared at his jean-covered backside, then the bottoms of his shoes.
He’d thought she hated him because that monster Jorje Serna killed their daughter. She could never hate Cord. Never. And as soon as they stopped again, she’d set him straight.
It took her a bit longer to get started on this last section. She wasn’t about to leap to the jutting rocks Cord had grabbed. She was kind of stunned by his sudden urge to finally talk to her. Okay, it was more of a statement than a talk. She got that. But it was Cord! A man who’d never spoken to her about any of that horrible night. He’d listened in silence while she told him what Serna had done. She’d purged all her fear, all of her shame at being so afraid, all her regret at not doing more...and he’d said nothing. Never acknowledged any part of it. She hadn’t been certain he’d remained completely awake until his eyes opened, filled with a rage she’d never seen.
“Definitely a start,” she said, with him completely out of earshot.
Even with the clear skies, lots of sunlight and no moisture to blink from her eyes, she still moved cautiously. Each move was deliberate and secure. Cord wasn’t under her, but from the way he was shooting ahead he had confidence she was fine. At least she didn’t feel left behind. It actually reminded her she’d been climbing rocks like this her entire life.
They didn’t speak, and soon Cord disappeared over the edge, hopefully back to a trail. Her hands ached but she took time to secure each grip. A couple of minutes went by and she realized Cord hadn’t stuck his head over the edge to check on her.
“Cord?” she yelled. “Cord!”
Had he just left her? Nonsense. He’d never do that.
“Kate. Over here.” Cord was farther to her left than she’d been looking. But his voice was husky, like a loud whisper. As soon as they made eye contact, he put his finger across his lips.
She reached the ledge and just like the night before, Cord pulled her to the top. And each time, he indicated to remain silent. When he stood, she followed to where he’d dropped the backpack.
“Stay here,” he whispered. “No arguing.”
Taking off once again without informing her of the plan. What would she do if he ended up shot? She watched as he pulled the machine pistol to his chest and ducked behind a pinyon pine.
What had he seen?
Or heard. The distant whirling of a helicopter bounced around the canyons. Dread, adrenaline and fright all mixed together to put her stomach on edge. She stared in the direction of Cord then peeked over the rock she was backed against. All she saw was another rock.
Forget this. She wouldn’t sit on the sidelines and get an update. They were a team. This was her fight, too. She removed her rifle from where it had been strapped to the pack. While she checked for ammo, Cord returned.
“Well?”
“They’re searching, but it’s the same chopper.”
“How can you tell?”
He nodded toward the rifle and grinned. “Bullet holes.”
“So what do we do now?”
“I figure it’s going to take all day to cross the rest of this plateau and hit Highway 118. They still don’t know for certain that we headed this way. May assume we’ve made it to one of the phones southeast and start to move the drugs.”
“We have an advantage since we’ll hear the helicopter long before it can see us.”
“So we stay hidden from view and head toward the observatory.”
“There are places that are closer than that,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, but we can’t see them. The white domes will give us a line of sight, easier to hit our mark and end up in the right place.”
“Easier for our eyes, but not our feet. And how much food did you happen to pack?”
“I’ll be okay.”
“It’s not you I’m thinking about.” She grabbed a water bottle from inside the pack, dripped some onto the cuts on her palms.
Watching Cord shift that machine pistol to his back was becoming too natural for her comfort. She really wanted this journey to be over and hiking all the way to McDonald Observatory—while it was their best option—just didn’t appeal to her. She wanted to feel safe, but not just on this trip. The longer she was with Cord, the more she wanted him to be involved with the baby. Things were just easier with someone around to help.
Having a child was a new experience. One of those “unknown” things out there that she had no knowledge about.
“Remember the first time I took you to the observatory?” The thought popped into her head along with the hunger for salty nacho chips and artificial cheese. “We got the reservations for the night owl thing, but it was too foggy to see.”
Cord knelt next to her, set his hat on the ground and took her palms in his hands. His gentle touch, cleaning the scratches, warmed more than her fingers. He was so familiar. So concerned about even a little thorn in her thumb.
“Isn’t that when you were on a natural juice kick and they didn’t have anything for you to drink?” he asked.
“I was never high maintenance. I remember you almost drove off a cliff on the way home.”
“We were nev
er in danger.”
“We had to pull over.”
He looked up and shook his head, laughing at her with his eyes. “The fog wasn’t the reason we pulled over.”
Oh, my. Every inch of her skin tingled. Every molecule was colliding with the one next to it, wanting to jump into Cord’s arms. What a night that had been. It started in the car—no, it actually began at his house. A rushed dinner and a drip of salsa landing on her chin.
She’d never been so grateful for fog in her life.
“This one’s pretty deep.” He skimmed her right palm, close to her wrist. “It’s clean, though. Wish I had first aid. Didn’t think about it,” he said, replacing his hat.
She wanted to tip that old Stetson and let it blow back to Valentine. The desire to mess up his hair while she made love to him on the top of this mountain was overpowering. She couldn’t understand it. It was probably one of the most uncomfortable places they’d ever been but, somehow, she felt closer to the man kneeling in front of her.
He stood and took a swig of the water before stowing it in the pack. “You okay? Maybe you should eat an apple.”
“Cord, about what you said on the ledge—”
“Forget it. Bad timing.”
She couldn’t let him walk away. After three years, he’d finally tried to talk. “But I need to say something.”
He stopped but didn’t face her. “Go ahead.”
If she went to his side... She wanted to hold his hand or be held in his arms. She couldn’t predict what would happen or prepare for it. How could she?
She was perched on a rock, on top of a mountain, being chased by the Mexican cartel and here’s where he’d chosen to talk to her about their little girl. So she stayed where she was...longing to hold his hand and comfort him.
He was finally allowing more than a cover of indifference to show. He was grieving.
The man’s timing absolutely stank to high heaven.
Chapter Fourteen
Say it already!
Cord scanned the horizon. That chopper would be back. No question of if, only when. They should be looking for their best way down the other side. They needed an escape route, not a conversation. Come on, Kate, just say it.
He could listen to her tell him how much she hated him and look for a trail. Keeping his back to her, he moved to the place he’d last seen the chopper. He should have borrowed the binoculars when he’d lifted the ammo and pistol from Burke’s gun cabinet.
Trying to look past her, he made the mistake of looking at her. She’d pulled her knees to her chest. No sighing. At least none that he heard. How was he supposed to know what this gesture meant?
“I’m listening, but we have to find a way down. You have to understand.”
“Oh, I do.” She jumped to her feet, pulled her gear on and joined him.
“I thought you had something you needed to say.”
“I’m still debating if you’re actually ready to hear it.”
“I could quote my shrink if you want. She’d say it’s—”
“It’s a woman?” she interrupted.
“Yeah, why?”
“I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Her short inhale and momentary hold of its release told him she was more than surprised. “Go ahead. What would your doctor tell me?”
“She’d advise that you can’t decide if someone’s ready for a confrontation. You can’t wait for perfect timing. Things just happen. Life happens.”
Kate cocked her head curiously. “All right. No perfect timing. Lord knows, yours certainly wasn’t, perched on a four-foot mountain ledge like we were.”
“Go on then.” He should have listened to himself. Talking was a bad idea.
“You need to believe me. I only blame one person for the death of our daughter. Jorje Serna is a murderer many times over.”
“It’s easy to say that, Kate. But I know you blame me.”
“You blame yourself enough for the both of us, Cord!” Kate yelled. “I’m not angry because you were shot, near dead in a hospital and couldn’t be there twenty-four/seven protecting me.”
“He wouldn’t have come after you—”
“Stop it! Just stop it!” She closed her mouth and began shaking her hands to calm down. “Listen to your own advice and stop thinking you can interpret everyone’s thoughts or predict their reactions. I did not divorce you because of the shooting.”
“Then why the hell did you?” The words were out quickly, surprising her, if that look was any indication. “I can’t remember how many times you said I wasn’t there. Didn’t you know I couldn’t be.”
“I knew you were a Texas Ranger when we met. You never hid your career goals. You transferred here because of me. I couldn’t and still don’t want to change you. I loved the man who wears that uniform.”
“You divorced me.”
“I couldn’t do it anymore.”
A piece of rock chipped near Kate’s boot and flew into the air off the cliff.
“Back.” He rushed between her and the open canyon, and they scrambled to where she’d been sitting earlier. “I didn’t hear anything. You?”
“No,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have—”
“Shh. Listen.”
Quiet.
Then a shot rang out from the distance. Followed by an immediate ricochet.
“He’s less than three hundred yards and not a very good shot.”
“Probably not, considering the wind,” she stated, looking into the canyon between him and the rock. “Or he doesn’t want to hit us. So do we run or do I cover you?”
“I’m not putting you through that again.”
“And I’m not guaranteeing to hit anything, Cord. But I’m good enough to cover you.”
“Did you see an animal trail, any logical switchback down?” He dropped his hat on the ground.
She reached for the rifle. “No, we’re really limited. We can’t go back. There’s only forward. We climbed this thing right here because the ridge stretched east and west too far to go around.”
She was right. “Forward. I just need to eliminate some speed bumps.” He dropped his coat.
“You think the chopper spied us earlier and dropped these guys off?”
“Or they were searching already. One problem at a time.” He stuffed Burke’s 9mm in the small of his back, dropped an extra clip into his jeans pockets. Pulled the hunting knife and connected its sheath to his belt.
“So what’s the plan?”
“Honestly, Kate, I don’t have any plan. I’m going to do my best to find out how many are with the shooter. You stay here to make ’em think we’re pinned down. Keep an eye open. Watch your back. You fire a shot for cover, then I’ll move.”
“What if there are more and they get too close?”
“That’s why I’m leaving this.” He hung the machine pistol around her neck. “Don’t hesitate to just point and shoot.”
“For the record, that’s a plan,” she said, grinning.
“If it makes you feel better to call it that.”
It did make her feel better. He could see her relaxed demeanor this time round. Unlike at the canyon the day before. She’d realized he’d tricked her into staying. As he’d left her holding the horses, her eyes had been sparkling, deep bluebonnet-blue. He loved her eyes that way.
He tipped her chin up so their eyes met. Sky-blue. He loved them this color, too. “And for the record, I appreciate you talking to me, so don’t think you caused us to get pinned down. Here is a lot better to have a face-off than being caught on the side of this mountain with no cover, nowhere to run and no options.”
“I hate splitting up, Cord. What if—”
He placed his finger across her lips. “I’ll hear you when you yell for me. That’s a promise.”
If he’d been closer, he would have kissed her. No question. He wanted to assure her he’d be back. He left, leaving her alone with a MAC-10 for protection.
Not the hardest thing he’d ever
done...but close.
The only way to get behind the shooter was back the way he’d come along the cliff. Work his way unseen, hanging along the edge for a couple of hundred yards. Keeping his head down, he heard Kate’s intake of breath. He couldn’t look at her, so behind his back he held up the sign language for “I love you” she’d taught him early in their relationship.
He did. Love her. He’d never stopped. Not since the first moment they’d met. His first homecoming game back at UT. A chance meeting in the student section. She was with a date in the row in front of him. He was with loud former football players.
His grip slipped and he hung by the dang arm of his weak shoulder. “Dad blast it, keep your mind on what you’re doing,” he chided himself. He couldn’t pull up. He swayed. The pressure on his shoulder threatening to dislocate increased with every movement. He recovered, reaffirmed his right grip and rested the wrenched left side.
Move it. You’re losing time!
He could see the ledge where they’d spent the night. The cover he needed was in the opposite direction than they’d climbed this morning. Twenty more yards should do it. Sweat saturated his face but not because of the sun warming his head. The pain in his shoulder and back had been bad before this last climb. Now it was... He couldn’t think about it.
Kate needed him. He’d lost track of the shots being fired while he’d dangled in the air. He could still distinguish rifle shots from Kate—different than Serna’s crew. Still only one returning fire, though.
That might lean things in their favor. Something going right? What were the chances?
The only way to see how far he’d come was to perform a chin-up. It was going to hurt like hell. Kate fired. He pulled eye level with the ground. Good cover. He just needed up. His muscles shook as he pulled himself to the top. His arm was mush.
There was no time to waste. He’d recover along the way. He didn’t know what Kate was shooting at, but he watched the area where her bullet smacked near a gap in the rocks. Sure enough, Serna’s crewman returned fire.
He hadn’t been raised a huntsman. He hadn’t served in the military. He didn’t really have experience moving unseen from one scraggly bush to another. But he loved Kate and would get to that shooter. And he would take him out.
