by Tina Leonard
Wolf took a deep breath after he’d rubbed his shin. “As I was saying, we must work with what we’ve got. Rhein will show you to your new room.”
River jerked against the thug’s arm as he pulled her toward the front door. Horrified, she realized he was removing her from the house. “Where are you taking me?”
“To another location,” Wolf said, following behind, prodding her forward when she dug in her heels.
She couldn’t leave this house. Tighe would be here anytime to rescue her. “Don’t make me leave. I need to be with Fiona.”
“That’s precisely your worth. I thought time away from her family would break the old woman, but she thinks she’s running the show around here.” Wolf stood back, watching, while Rhein guided her into the off-road vehicle with less than gentle hands. “The old lady is locked in her room now. No one will be happy for a while. They’ll miss her cooking. But I’m not going to be happy until I have the information I’m seeking, so,” Wolf said, his gaze on River, “she’s going to get plenty of time to think about being more forthcoming with that information.”
“Fiona will never say anything,” River declared.
“She very well might, once she realizes you’ve been taken to that shack up there,” Wolf said, pointing to a cabin high atop the mountain, surrounded by woods, barely visible from their location. “That’s our lookout house, a guard shack, you might say. You’ll be there for some time, I’m sure, so get used to it. There’ll be a team to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re being a good girl.” He stepped back from the vehicle, and Rhein got behind the wheel. “It’s very, very difficult to get to. People have gotten lost in those woods and never been found. In these conditions, you wouldn’t last long.”
River’s blood chilled. Tighe wouldn’t know she’d been taken from here. She looked up at the shack that was to be her new home. “Please let me stay here.”
“No,” Wolf said, “we’ve got to break the old lady down somehow. The best way to do it is for her to know that you and those little babies are suffering in the cold. No heat or electricity up there, by the way. For your sake, I hope Fiona breaks quickly.”
“I hope she never breaks,” River retorted. “I need my backpack. It’s got my only change of clothes in it.” Her magic wedding dress clothes were tucked in the back of the tiny closet. She hadn’t wanted anyone to glance in the room and see them. Wolf’s gang would know she hadn’t come with them, and would instantly know Tighe was close by.
Wolf shook his head. “In a day or so, when the old lady realizes you’re stuck with nothing, she may loosen her tongue a bit. Until then, Rhein will take good care of you. And I’ll tell the girls to make certain your backpack is put away safely.”
River glared at Wolf, hating him more than she’d ever hated anyone. “If anything happens to me, Tighe will make you regret it.”
“Live by the sword, die by the sword, I always say,” Wolf said. “Rhein, get her out of here.”
* * *
IT WAS COLD on the mountaintop, colder than she’d ever been in her life. The sweats she wore weren’t suited for snow and icy conditions, nor were the tennis shoes.
“It’s going to be a bit chillier here than the hideout,” Rhein said as he parked the vehicle behind the shack, where it couldn’t be spied from the road or sky.
“Don’t talk to me,” River shot back.
“It’s pretty lonely up here. You’ll want to talk to someone soon enough. You and the old lady are quite the chatterboxes.”
“Are you deaf?” River snapped. “I said don’t talk to me.”
“All that prissiness is going to get you nowhere.” He walked her to the back door, opened it. “Welcome home.”
She ignored him and went inside. The chill of the place practically smacked her in the face. It was dark and felt damp from lack of heat. Her breath made puffs in the cold air.
“If you’re nice, I’ll see you get a blanket. But all that attitude’s going to make sure you just sleep with sheets.”
She looked at Rhein, let him know with her gaze that she considered him reprehensible. “I’ll be fine.”
“There’s your room, princess.” He pointed down the hall.
She marched into it, closed the door, locked it. Curled up on the ratty cot with the nasty gray sheets and began to plan her escape.
Chapter Sixteen
The Callahans crouched, well hidden by the woods, and gazed at the hideout. Tighe studied the opportunities for entrance and egress, and looked for signs of recent activity. He was ready to bust in there now and grab River and Fiona, so he had to force himself to think clearly, logically, rationally. Any mission had to proceed according to the best-laid plans, carefully crafted with painstaking detail.
But the wait was hard.
“Four lookouts,” Jace said, staring through binoculars, “and a fresh set of tire tracks with chains leading to the west.”
“And up that mountain, is my guess.” Tighe squinted up at the thick pine woods where the fringed branches were heavy with snow. The air was crisp and clear, the silence around them complete from the shroud of snow wrapping everything in sight.
“There’s something up there,” Ash said, peering through her own binoculars. “But no road.”
“Off-road vehicle, with no obvious sign of departing along the main road,” Galen whispered. “No doubt a lookout is posted somewhere up there.”
The Callahans had chosen this site for their base. Cloistered among the trees, they felt comfortable that they couldn’t be spotted. The site was also situated downwind, so their voices wouldn’t carry. It was an ideal location.
But those tire tracks bothered Tighe. Something about them kept nagging at him. The tracks were fresh, and there was just one set, so the route clearly wasn’t driven often. “Maybe the lookout only changes once a week. It’s possible new snow covered up older tracks.”
“Possible,” Dante said. Tighe’s twin stood next to him, lending his support. Ever since they’d decided on the mission, Dante had stuck to him like a burr, as in the old days, when it was the two of them against the world. Tighe appreciated him being there.
For his part, Dante was no longer laughing and teasing about words he’d once spoken into the wind, wishing for his brothers to be set on torturous paths to win their women. He had been much more taciturn lately. “Possible, but I’m going to postulate that something’s been moved into the mountains for safekeeping,” he said suddenly.
Tighe squinted up into the snow-covered forest. “Whatever it is, it’s frozen now.”
“Maybe some equipment,” Ash said.
“Something Wolf considers a valuable target, something he wouldn’t want us to have in case we attack.” Falcon looked through his rifle sight, checking for movement. “He’s got more backup this time. And no doubt more weapons.”
Tighe looked at the sky, seeing thick clouds obscuring the stars and moon. Perfect for what they had planned.
Ash wrapped her arm through his. “It’s going to be all right.”
He hoped so. It was a night fit for a Shakespearean play, maybe some witches howling out of the darkness and whatever other foul luck might stand in the way. Tighe tightened his hood. He prayed he hadn’t brought his family here to meet their doom.
His phone buzzed once in his pocket, signaling a text. Tighe pulled it out to peer at it.
River taken to other location. Look for small shack in the woods. F
Holy smoke. Tighe’s gut clenched. He blinked, read the text again.
“You know how we planned for every contingency?” he asked.
His family’s attention riveted on him. “Text from Fiona. River’s been taken to a satellite location.”
They all stared at him, and he read in their eyes exactly what he knew—all the careful planning had just gone up in flames. “And I don’t know if this is good or bad news, but River doesn’t have her backpack.” He held up his phone for emphasis. “Fiona used River’s cell phone. I can see sev
eral scenarios where all of the above is bad news.” He took a deep breath. “Wherever River is, she doesn’t have a communication device to reach us, nor weapons, either. Fiona, on the other hand, has River’s backpack, and her mobile.”
“That’s the good news, then,” Ash said. “We can communicate with her if we have to.”
“It also means our spry and occasionally feisty aunt has a full bag of weapons, some of them incendiary. I don’t think I have to spell out to any of you what the combination of Fiona and some really interesting fireworks could mean to our battle plan.”
“Not to mention the side of this mountain,” Jace said.
“We could be talking landslide,” Ash said, her voice awed. “Like Christmas in July, complete with fireworks in the snow.”
“Snowmageddon,” Sloan said. “Snow, ice, tree limbs everywhere. Apocalyptic.”
“Yeah,” Falcon agreed. “Fiona’s always liked to do things for folks to remember and talk about for years to come.”
“She does like legacy-building, one-for-the-record-books stuff,” Galen said, sounding very worried. “I can think of no worse combination than Fiona and a chance to take out years and years of frustration against Wolf.”
“Pray she doesn’t realize what she’s holding in that bag,” Jace said. “Her chance for revenge.”
It was too terrible to contemplate. But first things first. “I’m going to follow those tracks,” Tighe said. “I have a funny feeling I know what I’ll find at the end of that yellow brick road.”
“Wait,” Galen said. “We must plan. There is no margin for error.”
The family grouped together. But Tighe said, “I can’t wait for a plan. Start without me.” And he took off toward the mountain.
* * *
IT WAS BITTER cold in the shack, and even River’s best attempts at mind control couldn’t disguise the discomfort seeping into her limbs. Silence enveloped the shack after four or five hours of three men laughing raucously and, River suspected, drinking to keep off the chill. They took turns, by the sound of things, one going outside for watch detail, and the other two keeping warm. Yesterday someone had loudly plopped a tray on the rickety table just outside her room. She hadn’t bothered to get up. There was no light to see by, anyway, and she wasn’t going to touch whatever was on the plate.
Rhein wasn’t running a very tight ship. She listened for the sounds of their activities, looking for a schedule. It seemed that every three hours the watch changed.
The only time the men paid her any attention was when she opened the door to go down the hall to the bathroom. She felt their eyes on her, watching to make certain she didn’t make a dash for it. Her bedroom window was nailed shut—she’d already checked that opportunity for escape.
She was going to have to make her escape soon. Her stomach cramped and shifted, the babies uneasy in her stomach. The dull cramps had returned, and that more than anything worried River.
Something soft and delicate settled over her as she lay on the bed, like angel wings floating down on her. She sat up, peering through the darkness. It was white and shimmery, catching the tiny bit of moonlight slivering in the window. She must be dreaming, so cold she was beginning to hallucinate. River reached out to touch the magic wedding dress gratefully. “I knew you’d come,” she said. “Thank you, thank you, for letting me know I’m a true Callahan.”
A few twinkles sparked in the air, and she smiled, comforted.
But then the dress changed, and she realized she wasn’t dreaming at all. Her black, cold-weather gear lay on the bed, the boots on the floor. She gasped and sat up.
There was only one reason her prayers had been answered. It was time to make her escape.
She went down the hall to the bathroom, making sure that her napping guard dogs woke up to take notice of her. Then she went back to her room and closed the door. She slipped the black gear on, and put the gray sweats under the ratty sheets, ruffling them so it looked as if a body was sleeping in the bed. The tennis shoes she put on the floor, as if she was snuggled up cozily. The men never came into the dark room, anyway. She smiled, pleased with the way the thick sweats bunched up the sheets. “That’ll freak them out.”
She listened for sounds of activity, but the shack was wrapped in a wintry silence. Her trip down the hall had revealed that Rhein was not on watch outside; he was tucked up at the small fire, a bottle of whiskey at his side. He’d looked distinctly groggy, and annoyed to be awakened by her jaunt to the washroom.
As long as Rhein wasn’t on watch, she had a chance.
She waited a little while longer to give them time to be deeply into the whiskey. Then, before the sentry changed, she opened her door and crept down the hall, walking right out the back of the shack. It was dark outside, which would give her cover. She looked for the watch, figuring he’d probably be situated on the roof with binoculars. But to her surprise, he was sound asleep against a tree, sitting on an old crate of some kind, an AK-47 across his lap. River noted a flashlight lay on another crate nearby, which was used as a table. Cigarette butts were scattered about, and an empty bottle of something—probably whiskey—and a coffee mug.
There was no point in wasting good supplies. River dug down in the snow, packed a huge snowball and threw it into a tree ten feet away from the lookout. She hit the branch she’d aimed for dead-on, and ice and snow showered down. The lookout didn’t even move.
She walked over, took the flashlight and melted into the woods. If she could get an hour’s head start down the mountain—or maybe even more—perhaps she could make it. The sky was dark, with rolling clouds and only threads of moonlight coming through the trees. There’d be a storm by morning, and with any luck, her tracks would be obscured.
It would be as if she’d simply disappeared.
* * *
TIGHE WAS MAKING good time up the mountain. This terrain was no different than some of the other cold locations in which he’d been deployed, except that the pathway here was fairly smooth, less rocky under the thick snow.
He used no light, only night vision goggles. He didn’t worry about footprints—the coming storm would take care of that.
This was the easiest assignment he’d ever had. Like any other mission, this one had a definite goal, a preferred outcome that he would achieve.
Suddenly he stopped, certain he’d heard something other than wind gusting the trees, or icy limbs falling. Whatever it was stopped, too. Or maybe he’d imagined it.
No. He didn’t imagine things, and that sense of danger that had saved him many a time was screaming, a banshee curdling his ears. He stayed still, barely breathing.
The sound resumed, a steady squish of footfalls sinking into the snow. He leaned up against a tree, quietly pulled a Sig Sauer 9 mm from his pack and waited, tense, listening.
Shuffle...step...careful sounds of boots marching forward with determination. The strides were long when possible, the crunches lighter than a man’s boots. Tighe straightened, a crazy thought dawning in his brain.
The steps were a woman’s.
The only woman on the mountain who would be on a mission to get off it would be—
He took a deep breath when he heard a female voice mutter something that sounded like a prayer, a chant, a quiet invoking of spirits to keep fear at bay.
Tighe put the gun away and moved behind a tree to wait and see if a miracle was possible on this frozen night.
Chapter Seventeen
River hurried, determined to reach the bottom of the mountain, where Tighe or the other Callahans might spy her. She knew they were nearby; they had to be. The flashlight beam shone in front of her, leading the way over the snow-covered ground.
If she was wrong and the Callahans weren’t here, she’d walk to the main road, try to flag down a car. It was miles away, but anything was better than being trapped in that filthy cabin with Rhein. If she could get help, maybe she could rescue Fiona.
A tall figure stepped from behind a tree, and River gasped with
fear.
“River. It’s Tighe.”
She could hardly believe it. He reached out his arms, and she rushed into his warmth. “Tighe! How did you find me?”
“They left tire tracks. And Fiona sent us a message that you’d been moved. It wasn’t hard to figure out. What are you doing here in the dark?” He hugged her close, and her knees sagged with relief.
“I got out. My guards and the lookout were asleep.” She buried her face in his chest, realizing she’d held a secret fear inside her that she might not ever hold Tighe again. He kissed her, and River melted against him, relieved that he’d come to take her home. Finally, the long nightmare was over.
He broke away far too soon, but didn’t let go of her hand. River craved his touch, the feel of him. “Come on. There’s no time to waste, as much as I would love to hold you all night,” he said.
“There’ll be time enough for that when we get back to Rancho Diablo. I intend to spend plenty of time alone with you.” She let him help her walk in the snow so they could make faster time. “Are you alone?”
“The whole gang is here. And Fiona’s got your backpack. The others are going to get our aunt out of there, so we don’t want to be late for the departure.”
River put one foot in front of the other—she could only breathe, not talk. It seemed she’d been walking forever, and her stomach was cramping like mad.
“Are you all right?” Tighe asked, stopping to peer at her.
“Just a little tired.” She tried to smile when he gazed into her face, pushed her hair back. “My stomach hurts a bit.”
“Is it the babies?”
“I don’t think so,” River said, “I think it’s that I haven’t had a healthy meal in ages, and I’ve been living in dirty places.” She realized she was about to cry, and wouldn’t let herself. “I’m so afraid they’ll discover I’ve left. They’ve got an off-road vehicle, so we have to hurry, Tighe.”
She didn’t want anything to happen to him, and if Rhein found out she’d left, he and his goons would come after them. He could also send word to Wolf to have the other men watch the bottom of the mountain. She wouldn’t be much help to Tighe.
