“This isn’t funny, Cassie,” he called, hoping she would reappear. He automatically checked the plane floating motionless on the mirror-like surface of the lake.
Nick went back inside and looked around the room, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
Then he noticed the photo album open on the coffee table.
Chapter Eight
Cassie ran, putting as much distance between herself and the cabin as she could. Cursing every step of the way, she finally had to stop and catch her breath.
How could she have been such a fool to trust him! And all along he had known!
The thought spurred her into running again.
She had woken when Nick left the bedroom to shower, tempted to join him. Instead, she decided she would surprise him with breakfast. The chilly cabin prompted her to dress in warm clothes before she went downstairs.
Coming down the stairs, she noticed the photo album still lying on the coffee table. She crossed the room and stood looking down at it, listening to the shower run. Finally she sat on the couch and opened the album to the first page. What she saw there had made her grab her coat and run.
A photo of Nick in an office, his arm across an older man’s shoulder, both of them grinning for the camera.
It was the old man! The man who had her abducted. She could never forget those eyes and his white hair. The office in the picture was the same office she had been brought to.
Seeing them side by side, she saw a slight similarity to Nick in the old man’s face, and she felt her heart breaking into a million pieces. His father!
Damn him!
Cassie had to stop running again. She put her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.
She had fallen for the old man’s son. Last night had been the most spectacular night she had ever had with a man—and he didn’t care a thing for her. He was only making sure she didn’t cause his father any trouble.
She’d been a fool to think the old man would put her on a plane and hope she’d forget about the whole incident. Nick was their insurance, their way to make sure she wasn’t a danger to them. And she had to admit he’d been perfect for the part. Well, damned if she would stay put now. When she got back to Juneau, she’d go straight to the police. Then they’d see what good their insurance was.
Abruptly Cassie sat down on the ground. How was she going to make it back to Juneau? She didn’t even know exactly which direction to go. She knew Juneau lay to the west, but she hadn’t paid close enough attention to how far north or south they had flown. She couldn’t even remember how long they had been in the air. It hadn’t seemed like a very long trip. How long would it take her to hike out of there, provided she headed in the right direction?
Exasperated, she wished she had demanded to see a map before taking off with Nick. She could wind up in Canada, or...her mind drew a blank. Hell, why not Russia for all she knew. She felt that stupid.
Remembering the grassy knob she had seen on the ridge behind the cabin when they flew in, Cassie decided she would climb up to get her bearings. Maybe she could see the city from there.
Her path grew steeper with every step, and it seemed a lot farther to the top than it had looked from the air.
Cassie stopped for the millionth time when she thought she heard someone calling her name. She stilled her breathing and listened. There it was again.
“Cassie! Come back! Cassie! Where are you?!” She recognized Nick’s voice, distorted with distance but almost directly below her. She realized he must still be at the cabin. She didn’t answer and didn’t move on until he quit shouting.
* * *
After calling for Cassie Nick went back inside, totally baffled by her disappearance. He didn’t see any reason for her to leave, especially deep in the Alaskan wilds where she wouldn’t stand a chance on her own. She hadn’t taken any extra clothes or food, although she had taken her parka. It was a good parka, but she wouldn’t make it through the night without risking hypothermia, or worse.
He sat down on the couch, putting his head in his hands. Why had she gone? Had someone taken her? No, he would have heard a plane landing on the lake, and there wasn’t time for someone to have hiked in. Some sort of weird flashback? Maybe she was just a deranged druggie. The marks on her arm were real enough, but maybe she had put them there herself. He scowled at the photo in the open album, wondering what the hell was really going on.
The photo. Nick looked at it again—really looked at it. Taken in Pop’s office just after he had shown Pop his first annual report with a substantial profit for Fly by Knight, the photo displayed Pop and him grinning like fools.
He picked the album up, looking closer, trying to see it as Cassie must have. It offered the only clue he had to her abrupt departure.
Pop’s eyes, he noticed, gleamed small and black in the photo. Nick remembered how Cassie had described her abductor. Beady eyes, she’d said, and white hair. And the office? All mahogany and plants. That certainly fit Anton Knight’s office.
“Oh, jeez. She must think Pop’s the one who kidnapped her.” Nick stood, letting the album fall to the table. “No wonder she ran off. She thinks I’m in on it.”
Nick went upstairs and dressed in his warmest clothes, then started stuffing a backpack with supplies.
* * *
Hunger pangs growled in Cassie’s stomach. She looked at the sun, guessing it was about two in the afternoon. She had left the cabin without eating several hours ago, and as she climbed she had looked askance at the berries growing on the bushes. One plant looked a lot like another to her. She knew you could eat some plants, but she didn’t know which ones were poisonous, and she didn’t want to take a chance trying them out. For a city girl cut loose in the woods, at least she knew what she didn’t know.
Reaching the top of the grassy ridge had been an accomplishment in her eyes. She had pretty much taken the direct route up, skinning through some pretty hairy moments when she’d almost lost her balance. She had come close to tumbling back the way she had come.
The top of the ridge offered a pretty view that Cassie would have appreciated much more in another circumstance. She sat down on the grass to rest, looking out in what she roughly estimated was a westerly direction. What she saw did not encourage her. As far as the eye could see were trees and more trees, putting her smack in the middle of nowhere. Scanning the horizon, she looked for anything hopeful. A passing plane, a taxi, anything. Which way?
Finally she spotted a wisp of smoke curling up from the sea of trees off to her right. Northwest, she told herself, hoping she wasn’t too far off compass. It didn’t look too far away, just in the next valley over. There must be another cabin there, someone she could go to for help.
She sat for a moment longer, rubbing her aching muscles. That smoke represented the closest thing to civilization she could see. It would have to be her destination. She hoped she could keep the right direction once she dropped below the treetops. She knew her way around a forest about as well as she knew how to fly a plane. But if she could walk a straight line, she figured she’d make out okay. However, looking down from the ridge, she felt sure it would be as easy as walking straight through the mall the day after Thanksgiving.
Heaving a sigh, she stood up and started down the ridge to the tree line. As she approached the trees, she finally saw a bush she recognized, with some blackberries still clinging to the vines.
Cassie rushed forward and began stripping berries from the bush and stuffing them into her mouth. Nothing had ever tasted so sweet. She picked as many ripe berries as she could find and ate them until her fingers were stained with dark purple juice.
The lateness of the season stymied her desire to do more than take the edge off her hunger. All too soon she found herself unable to reach any more edible berries without getting thoroughly scratched by the prickly vines. She had been lucky to find so many she could eat.
After a few painful attempts yielded nothing but bleeding hands, she gave up and c
ontinued on her way, trying to keep the direction she needed to go fixed in her mind.
Going down proved to be much harder than going up. The slope was so steep that one misstep would send her tumbling to the bottom of the canyon the fast way. The thought of lying in a heap of broken bones at the bottom kept her moving slow, testing every step before she transferred all her weight.
She reached the valley floor as night fell, and the forest grew hushed and eerie around her. When she could no longer see where to put her feet, she knew she had to give up until morning.
Feeling a lot less confident about her escape plan, she curled up by the roots of a giant tree, shivering in the cold and cursing herself for not bringing a blanket.
Sleep refused to come. As Cassie’s mind wandered, she remembered reading Jean M. Auel’s book Clan of the Cave Bear. When Ayla, the little girl character, had found herself alone and cold at night, she had covered her body with dead leaves to keep warm. Cassie dug into the soft earth, feeling the pine needles and ferns that made up the top layer.
Digging further down, she crawled into the hollow she made and pulled the needles, ferns, and a couple of fallen fir boughs over her. She sighed, feeling warmer immediately. It wasn’t an electric blanket, but it made the difference between a sleepless night and real rest. Shortly afterward, exhaustion claimed her.
What seemed like moments later Cassie woke with a start. Some noise had brought her out of sleep. A snapping twig, a footfall, the sound of something approaching in the darkness.
By the moonlight filtering through the branches of the lightly swaying pines, Cassie slowly lifted her head and looked around, trying to see what creature approached. She heard it again, a soft dragging sound, much closer than she had thought.
Cassie reached out one hand, feeling along the ground for a stout club or a rock, something to use as a weapon. Her hand touched something rough, and she picked up a branch, about an inch in diameter and maybe a foot and a half long. It wasn’t much, but damned if she wouldn’t make a weapon out of it.
She waited, praying the animal—whatever it was—would just go away. Suddenly she saw a dark shape crossing in and out of the moonlight and shadows.
It was big, about the size of a Great Dane, and seemed to be dragging a forefoot slightly. Wildcat, she thought. Mountain lion, lynx, cougar, bobcat—all the names of the cats at the zoo ran through her mind and did nothing to reassure her that it would just go away.
Terror twisted in her stomach as she watched the cat coming closer. Suddenly she couldn’t sit still any longer. She jumped up and ran at the animal, swinging her small stick like a baseball bat.
The cat yowled in pain and surprise as Cassie felt the impact. She swung the stick again but missed. The cat had backed off, out of her reach. By the time she tracked its movement, the cat had launched into the air, well on its way to colliding with her chest. Cassie threw herself to the side, but the cat stretched a paw toward her as it sailed past. Cassie yelped as claws tore through her coat and scratched her side, knocking her off balance.
Staggering back a few paces, still swinging the stick, Cassie felt the branch strike the cat again before she backed into a tree. Her breath exhaled with a rush, leaving her gasping for air. She looked up to see the cat leaping at her again. She screamed, unable to do anything but watch the cat as it seemed to float through the air toward her.
A bright light flared, illuminating the scene before a deafening gunshot rang out. Cassie screamed again as the cat dropped mid-flight, its momentum carrying it to a tumbling stop at her feet.
She looked up into the light, shading her eyes against its brilliance. She couldn’t see a thing, so she looked down at the cat. Despite the bullet hole gaping in its chest, its leg twitched. Cassie jumped away from it, feeling her legs begin to buckle and a taste of vomit rise in her throat.
She backed further away from the cat, swallowing down the bile, then turned toward the light, ready to thank her rescuer for saving her life.
A familiar voice spoke first. “Are you all right, Cassie?”
Bolting away from Nick and his gun, Cassie ran, zigzagging her way between the trees. The light followed her, flashing and bouncing as Nick ran. She heard his pursuing footsteps closing in on her and gripped her stick tighter. Slowing when the footsteps got closer, she turned, swinging with all her might. The tree branch whistled through clear air, and then Nick grabbed her arms. The light fell to the ground, rolling to a stop against a tree to light the forest behind Cassie.
“Let me go, damn you!” Cassie shouted, struggling to escape his grip. She kicked him in the shins and wrenched her hands out of his, then turned to run a few paces before Nick tackled her, pinning her to the ground.
“Be still!” he commanded, but she didn’t listen. She twisted and turned beneath him, seeking a way to get out from under him.
“Cassie! Listen to me. You won’t make it on your own out here. Let me help you, bring you back to my cabin. You need food. You need water. Listen to me!”
Cassie stopped struggling when he mentioned water. The word cast a spell, bringing on a sudden and severe thirst. She swallowed in a dry throat.
“I think I know why you ran, Cassie. It’s not Pop. He’s not the one who kidnapped you.”
Nick loosened his grip a little, and she immediately started to struggle again. He clamped down tight until she gasped in pain at his grip. “I don’t want to hurt you, Cassie, but you’ll die out here alone. Do you hear me? It’s not a game. That mountain lion would have killed you.”
“Give me water,” she said at last. “I won’t run.”
Chapter Nine
Nick sat up slowly, still straddling Cassie’s waist, unsure if he could trust this feisty creature he had spent all day and night tracking. His moderate skill at tracking led him to her, but only blind fortune got him there in time to save her. Ready for her to bolt again, he reached behind him with one hand to unhook his canteen from its place on his pack. Unscrewing the cap, he shifted his weight to one side to let Cassie sit up.
Keeping one leg over her, he handed her the canteen. She took it and tipped it up, greedily gulping the water until Nick gently took it away from her.
“Easy, it’s all I’ve got. Do you want to tell me where on earth you thought you were going?”
Cassie was silent, apparently still trying to think of a way to get away from him.
“We’re 40 air miles away from Juneau. How far did you think you could go without food or water?”
Cassie scowled at him. “The next valley. I saw smoke from someone’s cabin, I was going there.”
Nick laughed. “The smoke wasn’t coming from the next valley, my dear. I saw it too, when I crested the ridge. That’s MacDougall’s camp, 10 air miles, two ridges, and a river from here. Do you know how far you came today?” Nick didn’t wait for an answer. “Not even four miles, Cassie. Could you go another three or four days without food?”
“I ate food today,” Cassie said, struggling to sit up properly. “I would have run across water. I could have made it!” She struck her fists against Nick’s leg, and he winced. “Damn you, Nicolas Knight! I could have made it and gotten away from you!”
“Could you have gotten away from that mountain lion? Crossing the river would be real fun, too. It’s meltwater, practically ice. Cassie....” Nick took her by the shoulders and shook her. “It’s not a game out here.”
“I’m not the one playing games,” Cassie said evenly. “I saw that picture of you. I saw your father, the man who kidnapped me. All your talk of helping me, and love! I believed you.”
She wrenched away from him and scrambled away a few feet before Nick grabbed her ankle, pulling her back to him. She grabbed a handful of pine needles and hurled them at him, but she missed.
“Damn it, Cassie! Stop it. I don’t want to have to....”
Flipping onto her back, she swung her hand at his face, fingers extended, ready to rake his cheek. He caught her hand and forced it close against her c
hest, followed quickly by her other hand. He held both her wrists in one of his hands, using his leg to hold her down while he unfastened his belt with his other hand.
“Tie you up,” he finished, wrapping his belt around her forearms and cinching it tightly.
She tried to kick him, but he caught her feet and clenched them under his arm while he tied her own bootlaces around her ankles. The pounding she gave him with her bound forearms was impressive for such a petite woman, but Nick gritted his teeth and held on.
“Cassie,” he said, moving close to her face, once again holding her arms still. “You’ve got to listen to me. It wasn’t Pop, and I certainly have nothing to do with it.” He touched her face tenderly. “Last night was special for both of us.”
He kissed her, gentle and undemanding, but he felt her tense under that tender touch.
“I could never hurt you, Cassie.” He sat away from her and reached over to grab the flashlight and switched it to the softer lantern bulb in the handle. Dark shadows from the forest closed in around their tiny circle of light. Nick watched her, waiting for his eyes to adjust.
“If you want, I’ll untie you,” he said at last. “I’ll give you my food and enough supplies to make it to MacDougall’s camp. I’ll even point you in the right direction come morning. I’ll let you go if you think you have to—but you’d be wrong.”
“We’ll see. Untie me.” Cassie offered her bound hands to him. When Nick hesitated, she lifted them higher. “I won’t run off when you give me your gun.”
“Do you know how to use one?” he asked, but he removed his belt from her wrists.
“I was raised on a firing range,” she said, coldly matter of fact. “If it spits lead, I can pull its trigger. I hit what I aim at too.” Cassie rubbed her wrists briefly, then bent to untie her boot laces and retie them properly. “Give over the gun.”
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