Witness on the Run

by Susan Cliff

  She peeled her hands off the armrests. As they gained elevation, the landscape changed into a winter wonderland with snow-speckled trees. Rugged mountains loomed in the distance, promising sharp turns and dizzying plummets. The road followed the same path as the pipeline, which bisected the entire state of Alaska. The Trans-Alaska Pipeline had caused a boom to the economy and contributed to several unnatural disasters.

  “I’ve heard of Prudhoe Bay,” she said. “It’s on the list of places with frequent oil spills.”

  He didn’t seem surprised by this news. “Are you an activist?”

  “I used to be. I started getting into it after my dad died.”

  “What happened to him?”

  She glanced at the snowy tire tracks in the road. There were no markers, fences or telephone lines to guide their way. At least they had the bleak light of day. She didn’t know how Cam would drive after sunset. “He got in a sled accident. He was cutting across a frozen river on a section of land that had been closed off due to arsenic contamination from the gold mine. It was discovered in the drinking water. They’ve been trying to clean it up for decades. They were testing some geothermal equipment, which taps heat from deep in the ground and brings it up to the surface. The process was melting the ice at the mouth of the river, but they didn’t post a warning, because no one was supposed to be there.”

  “He broke through?”

  She nodded. “The mining company gave me a small settlement. I used it to pay for college in Edmonton.”

  “What did you study?”

  “Earth science. I was in my third year when my grandma got sick. She’d lived in Yellowknife for most of her life. The doctors said that stomach cancer is a side effect of low-level arsenic poisoning.”

  He made a sympathetic sound. “I’m sorry.”

  “I didn’t get angry after my dad’s accident,” she said, thinking back. “Maybe I was too young, or too numb. But my grandma’s death hit me hard.”

  Cam downshifted as they reached another sharp curve. She tensed in anticipation of a sideways slide into the embankment. He navigated the space with confidence, clearing a turn that appeared impossibly tight, before continuing uphill.

  She released a shaky breath.

  “Go on,” he said, glancing her way.

  “I’d been researching the impact of pollution on native communities, and I started getting involved with local protests. I actually met Duane at a rally. He was there because he hated the government, not because he cared about First Nations people or the environment, but I didn’t realize that until later.”

  Cam flipped a switch overhead. His dashboard looked like the controls for an airplane. There were lights and dials and toggles everywhere.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing. I turned off my jakes.”

  “What are jakes?”

  “Compression brakes. I don’t need them on an ascent.”

  She catalogued that into her mental files and checked the side mirror, which revealed an empty road behind them. So far, so good. Cam hadn’t lied about the difficult driving conditions. It was unlikely they were being followed. “Where was I?”

  “You’d just met Duane.”

  “Right,” she said, moistening her lips. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “It’s kind of a heavy topic.”

  “So?”

  “We don’t know each other that well.”

  “We’re getting there.”

  She gave him an assessing look. If he wanted to avoid getting attached, they shouldn’t be sharing so much personal information. Maybe he wasn’t as afraid of intimacy as he claimed. Or maybe his only goal was to bed her, and he wouldn’t have any trouble moving on after the deed was done. Either way, she felt obligated to tell him about herself. He’d risked his life to help her. The least she could do was make conversation, and part of her longed for a deeper connection. Her attraction to Cam went beyond physical needs. The emotional comfort and closeness he could offer was incredibly tempting.

  She didn’t just want to be touched. She wanted to be held.

  “Duane was angry and rebellious,” she said. “I liked that. I was mad at the world, and so was he. We both wanted to burn everything down. But he also had a sweet side, if you can believe it.”

  “I can.”

  “He gave me gifts and constant attention. He was obsessive. At the time I thought it was romantic.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Twenty. We’d only been dating six months when he got stationed in Carcross, in Yukon. He asked me to come and live with him. I said no, because we weren’t married. He bought a ring the next day.”

  Cam arched a brow, but didn’t say anything.

  “We moved too fast.”

  “I’m not judging.”

  “Did you and Jenny wait a long time before you got married?”

  “We dated for a couple of years, but I knew she was the one right away. I could have asked her sooner.”

  She cleared her throat and continued. “With me and Duane, it was rocky from the beginning. He was unhappy with his assignment in Carcross. We didn’t know anyone in town. He drank too much and didn’t sleep enough. I wanted to hike and ride sleds and raise animals. Instead I ended up hiding in the bedroom whenever he was home.”

  “How long were you married?”

  “A little over three years. I found a job as a waitress, just to get out of the house. There weren’t a lot of women in the area, and Duane treated every man we encountered like a rival. Sometimes he accused me of encouraging them. He’d come to the café and sit in the parking lot, watching me. I finally had to quit.”

  “He knew you were out of his league.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, considering. Duane hadn’t been ugly. Not on the outside, anyway. But he’d been insecure and accusatory, even paranoid. “Maybe that’s what he thought, but he didn’t say it. He said mean things.”

  “About your looks?”

  “Yes.”

  Cam studied her for a moment before turning his attention to the road. “You’re beautiful. If he said otherwise, he’s a liar.”

  Her cheeks warmed at the compliment. She believed he meant it. Admiration flashed in his eyes when he glanced at her, along with a sincere interest in her as a person. He cared about what she was saying. Men had complimented her before, Duane included, but she couldn’t remember the last time one had made her feel special.

  Waitresses didn’t get a lot of respect. Some customers stared at her body as if she was on the menu, or demanded smiles for a tip she’d already earned. She wouldn’t do it. Smiling for no reason didn’t come naturally to her.

  Cam didn’t smile much, either. He seemed intent on holding on to his grief, as if letting go would insult his wife’s memory. He’d resigned himself to a life of solitude on the road. Never staying in one place, but never truly moving on. Her gaze fell to his right hand, knuckles scraped from defending her.

  “You took off your ring,” she said, startled.

  He flexed his fingers absently, as if they were sore. She’d remind him to ice his knuckles the next time they stopped.

  An hour later he pulled over at the base of a steep incline. Snow flurries reduced visibility, which was probably a good thing. She didn’t want to see too much. “I have to put on my chains,” he said.

  “Do you need help?” she asked, hopeful of a chance to stretch her legs.

  “You’re supposed to stay out of sight.”

  “Right,” she said, shifting in her seat. She’d love to get out. Sitting still had never been her strong suit. “No problem.”

  He smiled at her answer, as if he knew she was getting antsy. He shared her need for physical activity. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be so eager to chop wood fo
r lonely widows. “Put your parka on.”

  “Really?”

  “You can walk around on the passenger side. That’s it.”

  She made a little squeal of excitement, reaching for her parka. She didn’t bother to zip up, because she wanted to feel the invigorating chill. He didn’t wear a parka at all, just gloves. He kept the engine running while he worked. She walked up and down along the snowy roadside. She hopped and jumped and twirled in circles. Then she watched him tug the heavy chains into place. She enjoyed the sight of his strong shoulders and hard-muscled arms. He winced as he placed the last set.

  She scooped up some snow, striding toward him. “How’s your hand?”

  “Fine,” he said gruffly.

  “Let’s see.”

  He removed his glove to show her. His knuckles were slightly swollen. She covered them with snow and lifted her gaze to his face. Although it was cold, he looked hot. His cheeks were ruddy, his eyes bright. The strenuous task had warmed his blood.

  She held the snow in place for as long as she could. After it melted off, she brought his knuckles to her lips for a soothing kiss. His gaze flared with heat, and her pulse throbbed with awareness. Maybe he’d taken off his ring because he was ready to move on—with her.

  “What are you doing?” he asked sharply.

  She released his hand, flushing. “Nothing.”

  Or...maybe not.

  Another truck came barreling down the hill, emerging from a snowy fog. Despite the speed of travel and thick air, she could see the faint outline of the driver. Which meant the driver could see them.

  Cam stepped forward and grasped her waist, cursing. He crushed her against the passenger side and held her there. Her breaths puffed out in the chill air above his shoulder. Her parka was open, allowing him entry. His torso pressed tight to hers. When the tension drained from his body, she knew the danger had passed. She glanced up at him, moistening her lips. A muscle in his jaw flexed, but he didn’t ease away from her. Her heart thumped with excitement, from the close call, and his close proximity.

  Ready or not, his desire was clear. It glimmered in his dark eyes and radiated between them. He needed this, and so did she. He seemed uncertain about how to proceed with her, however. She wondered if he knew the attraction was mutual, or if he was waiting for her to give him an overt signal. Something even more obvious than kissing his knuckles.

  She twined her arms around his neck. His gaze dipped to her lips. Then his mouth descended.

  Yes.

  She threaded her fingers through his hair as he kissed her. He started with a soft touch, his lips warm. The snowflakes in his beard melted on impact. She opened her mouth for his tongue, tentative. He groaned and deepened the kiss. It was an explosion of heat, tongues tangling. His hands gripped her hips and her back met the metal door. She made an encouraging sound, wanting more. He gave it to her. More tongue, exploring her hungry mouth. More hands, roving lower. He cupped her denim-covered bottom with a low growl. His erection swelled against the juncture of her thighs.

  He broke the kiss and stepped away. Cold air filled the space between them. His eyes still smoldered, his breaths puffing hot.

  “Get in,” he said, opening the passenger door.

  She climbed the metal steps, disconcerted. She engaged in a brief fantasy in which Cam followed her inside and pushed her down on the bed in the berth. There was hardly room for him, let alone the two of them, but they could make it work.

  He slammed her door and walked around to the driver’s side. When he got behind the wheel, his jaw was clenched. She shrugged out of her parka, her cheeks warm. Everything was warm. Her breasts felt full, her mouth swollen. She slumped in her seat, embarrassed by her runaway desire. The seam of her jeans tugged at her tingling sex. She wanted to rub herself there to ease the ache.

  His eyes traveled down the length of her legs and lingered between them, as if he could sense her arousal. She squirmed at his perusal, her pulse throbbing.

  “Get in the back,” he said in a low voice.

  “Why?”

  “I need to focus on driving.”

  “I won’t bother you.”

  He gave her a look that said she was already bothering him, after she’d promised not to. She’d wanted to leave the cramped confines of the truck. She’d wanted him to kiss her. It was his fault as much as hers, but this issue wouldn’t have arisen if she’d stayed in Fairbanks, so she didn’t argue. She climbed out of the passenger seat and entered the berth.

  Lying down, she found it even more difficult to ignore her physical needs. She hadn’t been touched in a long time. She hadn’t touched herself, either. Her body had gone into hibernation after she’d escaped her abusive marriage. Cam had brought her back to life. She’d forgotten how it felt to enjoy a man’s attention.

  She reached for one of her graphic novels as they ascended the steep cliff. She didn’t like not being able to see the road, but maybe ignorance was bliss. The incline felt alarming, the engine shuddering from exertion.

  It occurred to her that Cam had been angry with her for tempting him, and angry with himself for surrendering to temptation. Maybe he was angry about not being able to finish what they’d started, too. Either way, he hadn’t yelled at her or done anything violent. He hadn’t blamed or belittled her. He’d accepted the situation as it was, and found a solution that allowed him to continue driving.

  He was calm and in control. That was comforting.

  The book in her hands offered another level of comfort. She concentrated on the story, the illustrations, the characters. Despite the precarious road conditions, she felt safe and cozy, as well as highly desired.

  Cam wanted her. He wanted her so much that he had to remove her from his sight in order to do his job.

  Smiling, she turned the page.

  Chapter 10

  December 12

  67N

  -1 degree

  Atigun Pass was as nerve-racking as usual.

  Cam had to increase his speed steadily in order to make the climb. Slowing down meant risking a dangerous backwards slide. If his rig stalled or malfunctioned, he couldn’t pull over. The weight of his load would cause the wheels to slip. It was a recipe for a jackknife—or worse. One wrong move could send them hurtling over the edge. Other truckers had taken that icy path before. They’d plummeted down the snowy cliff. There were no survivors in these accidents.

  He was glad Tala had agreed to ride in the back, because this stretch of road demanded his total concentration. Through no fault of her own, she was a distraction. He couldn’t afford to sneak glances at her luscious mouth or fantasize about their kissing session. He had to keep his mind calm and his thoughts clear.

  She wouldn’t have enjoyed the view, anyway. She’d seemed nervous on easier sections of the Dalton. It was better for her to sit tight in the berth. Reading her comics, or whatever she was doing.

  When he reached the summit, he breathed a sigh of relief and flexed his fingers, which had been clenched around the wheel. A glance into the back revealed Tala, lying on her stomach on his bed. He couldn’t see all of her, just the midsection.

  She had a body made for blue jeans. Long, lean legs. Her curves were lovingly cupped by snug denim. The twin pockets seemed designed to lift her pert bottom in invitation. They had silver studs and gold thread. He imagined climbing on top of her, gripping her hips and pressing himself against her.

  Swallowing hard, he returned his attention to the road. He’d drifted slightly off-course. He corrected in a calm, practiced motion.

  Jesus.

  This woman was dangerous in more ways than one. He’d risked his life to rescue her from two assailants this morning. Now he was lust-struck after a single glance. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to veer into a snowbank.

  For the next few hours, he concentrated on driving. The technical difficulty of n
avigating a loaded rig in inclement weather kept his thoughts occupied. He could hear subtle movements in the berth. The whisper of turning pages or shifting limbs. She switched positions often. He wondered if she was struggling to stay focused on her book. If she was distracted by memories of their kiss, and imagining other, sexy scenarios.

  His neck flushed with heat. Now that he knew she felt the same desire he did, it would be harder to resist her. He’d assumed she wasn’t attracted to him. He’d been wrong. Over the course of the day, he’d started to notice some signs of interest. She looked out the window a lot, but she also looked at him. She studied his body as if she wanted to touch him. She studied his hands as if she wanted him to touch her.

  He hadn’t been absolutely sure until he’d kissed her. The way she’d responded had removed all doubt. She’d moaned and clutched at his hair and devoured his mouth.

  He tried not to think about her physical reactions, or possible sexual frustration. He tried not to wonder what kind of panties she was wearing, or if they were damp. Gritting his teeth, he cracked his window to let in a cold blast of air. It worked to clear his head. As the sunlight faded into another early evening, she set her book aside.

  “You can turn on the lamp,” he said.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I can wait.”

  He didn’t tell her that they were still hours from Coldfoot. Like most truckers, he preferred to drive as long as he could without stopping, and there weren’t many places to pull over on this section of the Dalton.

  She curled up with his wool blanket. It obstructed his view of her body, which was probably for the best. Darkness enveloped the cab. Her slow, even breaths told him she’d drifted to sleep. A warm feeling settled in the center of his chest. It was part satisfaction, part tenderness. She didn’t trust easily, but she trusted him enough to take a nap in the back of his truck. She trusted him to protect her.

  He wasn’t sure if he deserved the honor, or if he could keep her safe in the long term. He balked at the responsibility. There were too many emotions, too many entanglements involved. He couldn’t afford to get attached to a woman in jeopardy. He didn’t want to control her fate, or make any life-or-death decisions.