A Hero to Hold

by Linda Castillo

  Her troubled gaze met his.

  “What kind of book?” he pressed.

  “I don’t know. A small book. Dark. Black. Or blue, maybe. With compartments.”

  “A phone book? Organizer?”

  “Dammit, I don’t know.” Frustration echoed in her voice. “I have to go back.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, he looked down the hall, saw that the windows beyond were gray with the light of dawn. “Don’t ask me to—”

  “How far are we from the place where you rescued me that day?” she cut in.

  John didn’t like the way she was looking at him. Not with that light in her eyes that told him she was determined to do something he didn’t necessarily agree was a smart thing to do. “I’m not taking you to Elk Ridge.”

  “I’ll do it without you.”

  “I won’t let you, Hannah.”

  “This isn’t your decision. It’s mine. Dammit, I deserve to know who I am. I deserve—”

  “You’re recovering from hypothermia, not to mention a serious fall.”

  “I feel fine.”

  “You’re three months pregnant, for God’s sake. You’re not going to risk the—”

  “Don’t you dare pull that on me. I’m pregnant, John, not sick. Don’t get the two confused. Pregnant women run in marathons, for Pete’s sake.”

  Her tone should have angered him, but it didn’t. It scared him. “Come here,” he growled.

  When she didn’t acquiesce, he reached for her. The world shifted beneath his feet when she fell against him. His brain faltered when her scent enveloped him. Feeling his control leaching away, he closed his eyes. “I need to hold you for a moment, okay?”

  She felt small and vulnerable and soft in his arms. He wondered how such a small person could wield so much strength. How this one woman could make him feel so out of control.

  “I need to do this.” Pulling back slightly, she looked at him. “But I need your help.”

  “I’m not going to help you.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  He didn’t intend to kiss her. But one moment, he was gazing into her eyes, stroking the back of her head, trying not to identify exactly what it was that scared him so damn much. The next instant, his mouth was on hers, devouring, seeking something elusive, something so vital he felt he might die if he didn’t attain it.

  A sigh escaped her when he slipped his tongue between her teeth. For a moment, he thought she would resist, but she didn’t. She opened to him, and he went in deep. When her body arched and she moved against him, John saw stars. Flashes of light alternating white and black and exploding like fireworks. Vaguely he was aware of the blanket slipping from her shoulders, his hands moving to her breasts. He cupped her, marveled at her softness, swallowed the sound that escaped her when he brushed his fingers over the hard peaks of her swollen nipples.

  He wanted to make love to her. Wanted to be inside her. He wanted to hold her just one more time, because he knew the time to walk away was near. But he kissed her again and his resistance was lost. And at that moment John knew he’d lost not merely the battle, but the war. As he jumped into the free fall and tumbled toward oblivion, he tried not to think of what it was going to cost them both.

  * * *

  Dawn broke with a cold north wind and the threat of snow in the higher elevations. With the whine of the snowmobile’s engine filling the hangar, Hannah huddled in her coat and tried not to feel guilty for demanding John take her up to Elk Ridge on such a cold day. She knew it wasn’t a good idea in terms of safety—not when there was a madman on the loose and a snowstorm building in the west—but she also knew it was the only way to find out who she was and what had happened up on the mountain.

  Casting her a dark look that told her in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t happy about the trek, John pulled the remainder of their gear from the locker and turned to her. “This is the smallest snowsuit I’ve got. Put it on, along with the boots and gloves.”

  She reached for the suit and stepped into it, zipping it all the way up to her chin. “How long will it take us to get there?”

  “About an hour.”

  “What about the ravine where—”

  “No dice.” He cut her a sharp look that dared her to argue.

  He started to turn away, but she stopped him. “I know you don’t think this is a good idea—”

  “For the record, I think this is an insane idea.”

  “I can’t do it on my own. You have the gear. You know these mountains. You know how to reach the area.”

  “I also have the good sense to know a crazy idea when I hear one.”

  She caught his gaze, held it. “John, I left something up on that ridge. Maybe it’s not in the ravine. Maybe we can just walk the area and find it.”

  “And maybe I need my head examined for listening to you.” When she only continued to look at him, he cursed. “The damn thing’s probably under two feet of snow.”

  “I need to do this—”

  “And I need to keep you safe!”

  She stared at him, taken aback by his quick anger, shaken by the realization that she was nearly in tears. His eyes bored into her for an instant, making her feel too many emotions at once until they all tangled up inside her.

  “I don’t like the idea of being so isolated when someone has been taking potshots at you,” he said more gently.

  “You called Buzz. He knows where we are.”

  “Buzz isn’t going to do us any good if we’re an hour away from RMSAR and some madman decides he wants use you for target practice.”

  A shiver rippled through her hard enough to start her teeth chattering. She tried to hide it, but she could tell by the way his jaw flexed that he saw it. “Dammit, Hannah—”

  “I don’t have a choice,” she whispered. “I need to know who I am. Please help me.”

  “It would have been smarter to go to the shrink Dr. Morgan recommended.”

  “If we don’t find anything on the ridge, I’ll call the doctor and make an appointment. But I know with everything in my heart that when I find what I left behind, I’ll get my memory back.” Feeling the burn of tears behind her eyes, determined not to break down now, not in front of him, she bit her lip.

  Cursing softly, he reached for her. “You’re stubborn as hell,” he said.

  “Thanks. I think.” Hannah’s legs went weak when he pulled her against him. The instant his arms went around her, the rest of the world melted away, and she knew that no matter what she found up on the mountain that everything would be all right. It had to be.

  “I’ll take you up, but we’re not going to stay,” he said. “It’s twenty degrees colder at that elevation. It’s isolated. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen.”

  Gazing down at her, one side of his mouth hiked into what amounted to a very worried smile. “That’s what people say right before something happens.”

  She wanted to say something flippant. Something that would tell him she wasn’t afraid. But the way he was looking at her wreaked havoc on her motor skills. For a moment, as she gazed into his eyes, she couldn’t speak. All she could do was listen to her heart weep with love for a man who’d sworn he could never love her back.

  * * *

  The snowmobile whined like a banshee through the forest, tearing up the snow and grating over ice-crusted granite. John maneuvered the machine down a mild slope to an open meadow, then picked up speed as they skimmed across a small frozen lake. He should have been ecstatic racing through the breathtaking scenery as the sun broke over Elk Ridge to the east. Instead, he felt like he’d been gutted, then turned inside out to dry.

  I love you.

  Hannah’s words haunted him. He would give up his own soul for the chance to say those three small words in return. But no matter how much he wanted her and the child she carried, he could never put her in the kind of peril a relationship with him would bring.

  He wasn’t sure when
or how it had happened, but at some point he’d fallen in love with her. A frantic little voice tried to deny it, but John was honest enough with himself to see the truth. Just as he was honest enough with himself to know that walking away was the only honorable thing to do. He tried not to think about how badly it was going to hurt to look at her for the last time and end it.

  Hannah sat behind him, her arms wrapped around his waist, her legs bracketing his hips. Even troubled as he was, knowing the tentative relationship they’d formed was doomed, he couldn’t help but marvel at the feel of her against him. They’d made love twice the night before and then again after the nightmare—a mistake he would carry with him the rest of his days. But he would never forget those precious hours. Already he wanted her again. Wanted her so badly he ached with the need to hold her tight. He told himself things were better this way. She was better off without him. His life was simpler solitary-style.

  Too bad his heart wasn’t getting the message.

  An hour out, John slowed the snowmobile atop a rise where the trees parted and the snow was thin on the wind-blown granite. Dodging rocks the size of Volkswagens, he eased the vehicle over to an outcropping of rock and shut down the engine. Unbuckling his helmet strap, he stood and faced Hannah. “The terrain gets steep and rocky from here,” he said. “We’ll have to hike it.”

  Sliding off the snowmobile, she lifted her helmet and shook her head. A tangle of red hair spilled over her shoulders. John stared, felt the need grip him. He loved her hair. Loved the way it felt between his fingers. Loved the smell of it. Loved the way it tickled his face when she was over him, his body buried deep inside hers.

  He was going to miss her.

  Before he even realized he was going to move, he reached out and touched her cheek. Her startled gaze locked with his. In the depths of her eyes, he saw the questions, the hurt. She knew he was going to end it, he realized, and the pain twisted his heart savagely. The trickle of need augmented to a flash flood, sweeping through him, its power shaking him. Without preamble, he reached for her, pulled her to him and kissed her hard on the mouth. She gasped, but he swallowed the sound, absorbed the emotion behind it. Their tongues tangled. He growled low in his throat. She purred. Spearing his hands through her hair, he angled her head toward him, and kissed her deeply, all the while desperation coiled like a tightly wound spring.

  An instant later, he released her. She stumbled back, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wary and surprised. “I don’t understand you. You won’t tell me how you feel, yet you kiss me like that.”

  He couldn’t tell her that physical love was the only way he could show his love for her. He could never say the words. Physical love was safe. Emotional love carried a price he wasn’t willing to pay. “I’m better at destroying relationships than I am at being in them,” he said.

  “I don’t believe that.”

  Around them the wind rattled the branches of the aspen and whispered through the pines. In the distance, a bald eagle called to its mate.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  Her expression turned wary. “About us.”

  He nodded. “Things have gotten…complicated.”

  “That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

  “It is because I haven’t exactly been honest with you.”

  The wariness in her eyes sharpened. “What do you mean?”

  He knew this wasn’t the time to discuss this. Not out in the middle of nowhere with heavy weather moving in. Not when they were both exhausted and scared. But John needed to tell her the truth—all of it—even though he knew it would hurt her. He figured they’d both be better for it in the long run. “There are some things in my past I haven’t told you. Things you need to know.”

  “I know everything I need—”

  “You don’t know why I didn’t make the cut as a cop. You don’t know why the academy rejected me.” He clenched his jaw against the quick slice of shame. “You don’t know why I can’t legally carry a firearm in the state of Colorado. You don’t know about Rhonda.”

  He wanted to reach for her, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t now. To confuse the matter by touching her would make it worse for both of them. John Maitland might have inherited his father’s temper, but he wasn’t cruel.

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  “The police academy rejected me because I have a record, Hannah. Not just a record, but a domestic violence conviction.”

  “You told me about what happened in Philly,” she said. “You were seventeen years old and trying to protect your mother from—”

  “This has nothing to do with Philly,” he cut in. “This happened five years ago, with a woman, right here in Colorado.”

  The wariness in her eyes turned to shock. “But—”

  “I was arrested after a fight with my live-in girlfriend. She pressed charges. It went to court—”

  “I don’t believe—” She started toward him, but he shook his head, stopping her.

  “This isn’t easy, Hannah. In fact, it’s pretty damn tough. Don’t make it harder by trying to rationalize what I did.”

  “I don’t know what you did. I sure as hell don’t believe you’re a violent man.”

  A humorless laugh squeezed from his throat. “The prosecutor thought differently. So did the jury.”

  “I want to hear it from you.”

  He hadn’t wanted to get into the ugly details, but now that he’d cracked open the Pandora’s box of his past, he knew he didn’t have a choice but swing it wide and tell her everything.

  “I met Rhonda at an art festival on Pearl Street in Boulder about five years ago. She was an interior designer. Talented. Temperamental.” Remembering her and his own naiveté, he sighed. “Troubled. But she was fun and basically a good person. We dated for a few weeks.” He looked at Hannah. “Slept together from the start. I didn’t intend to let it get serious. I didn’t even realize she was getting serious. But slowly her things started showing up at my apartment until one day we were living together.

  “Even five years ago I knew what I was capable of. I have a temper. I’m not easy to live with. At first things were good between us. But she wasn’t the independent type. She was needy, hung on a little too tight. I overlooked it, maybe because I didn’t want to deal with it. Maybe because I didn’t care enough. I don’t know. But by the time I realized she was in love with me, it was too late.

  “I couldn’t let it go on. Not knowing what I did about my temper and relationships. The night I told her I was moving out, she went ballistic. She had a way of pushing my buttons, so I left the apartment to have a drink and cool off. When I came home a few hours later, she was even angrier. We argued. When I started packing, she lost it.” The memory made him break a sweat, brought back the darker memories of Philly, all the fears of the boy who’d grown up in a violent home. “She was…irrational, screaming at me, throwing things, making crazy threats. She locked herself in the bathroom. I was going to let it go and just get out of there, but I heard glass break. I thought she was going to hurt herself. When I walked in, there was blood all over. She’d put her hand through the mirror. She was hysterical, unreasonable, angry. I did my best to reason with her, but she was out of control. I knew better than to touch her when I was just as angry, but she tried to throw herself through the glass shower door.” He grimaced at the bitter taste creeping up the back of his throat. Damn, he hated the taste of shame.

  “I stopped her from going through the glass, but she fought me, biting and kicking.” Shame washed over him, thick and stinking, smothering him. “I left bruises on her arms.” He would never forget the way she’d looked at him after seeing the bruises. The sense of betrayal in her eyes. The shock and disgust that had crashed down on him like an avalanche.

  “The neighbors called the cops. They came out, saw the blood and bruises and arrested me. Rhonda pressed charges. A couple of months later, it went to court. The prosecutor had photos of the bruises. That’s all it took for the jury to c
onvict me.” It had been a long time since John had relived that night and the nightmare of the trial. Even now, five years later, the shame and guilt pounded him ruthlessly. “I paid a fine, spent thirty days in jail.” He looked at Hannah. “And I learned a valuable lesson about myself.”

  Hannah stared at him, her face stricken and pale. “You didn’t hit her.”

  “No, I didn’t. But I wanted to.”

  “You tried to keep her from hurting herself, John. You controlled yourself. That’s what separates us from animals.”

  “I didn’t control myself back in Philly.” Fighting off an uncomfortable wave of emotion, he rubbed his hand over his face. “I put those bruises on her. I looked down and saw my hands clenched into fists, Hannah. If I had lost control…”

  “You didn’t. That’s what counts.”

  Her trust devastated him, especially when he didn’t deserve it. “I lost control in Philly, Hannah. I care about you too much to let you get tangled up with me.”

  “I’m already tangled up with you.”

  For a moment, he couldn’t speak. His brain couldn’t even form a rational thought. And despite his resistance, he felt himself slip a little more deeply in love with her. “Dammit, that isn’t what you’re supposed to say.”

  “Do you expect me to forget everything I know about you and turn tail and run just because some prosecutor got a jury to believe something when you didn’t bother to defend yourself?” Her voice shook with the words, but her eyes remained fierce. “You let yourself get convicted of a crime you didn’t commit, because you felt guilty about your father.”

  “You deserve a man you don’t have to be afraid of.” He didn’t like the kick of jealousy that jumped through his veins at the thought of another man in her life, but he ruthlessly shoved it aside. This wasn’t about him. It was about her and her right to be loved by someone who would never hurt her.

  “I’m not afraid of you.”

  John sighed. “When we’re finished here, I’m taking you to Buzz.”

  “I don’t want to see Buzz.”

  “He’s going to take you to the police station, then drop you at another shelter—”