He stared at her without blinking for at least a minute. Then, muttering something she was glad not to have heard, he dropped the phone, scrubbed both hands over his face and let his shoulders sag. “I do know that. But you have a fever, we aren’t eating enough and every step must hurt like hell. Now I’m telling you we have to climb an extra thousand feet or so, scoot on our butts over a raging torrent, then whack our way across a steep downslope to get behind these—” He swallowed whatever he’d meant to call them. “Oh, and assuming we succeed, we then have several more miles of bushwhacking and river crossings to go.”
“I can—”
As if she hadn’t opened her mouth, he shook his head and said, “Maybe plan B makes the most sense.”
Bothered by his expression, the way the muscles in his cheeks and jaw had tightened, Maddy asked, “And what’s that?”
“I cross without you, circle behind the bastards and kill them.”
“Execute them.”
His eyes no longer gave away any emotion at all. “If all goes well.”
Feeling semi-hysterical, she said, “You mean, if they don’t see you in time to kill you.”
“That would be the downside.” He didn’t shrug, but he might as well have. Hey, no biggie, he was saying.
Spitting mad, she snapped, “You think I don’t care if you die?”
“It’s been my worry all along that if anything happens to me, you’re screwed.”
“I should just worry about myself? Like you don’t matter?”
Now he looked faintly wary. “I didn’t say that.”
“You did! I’d rather die myself than have you do something that...that stupid!”
He blinked a couple of times. “We’re at war, Maddy.”
“Maybe we are, but we both have to make it out of here. Besides...”
His eyebrows climbed. “Besides?”
“To kill two men you don’t know from behind seems wrong. I mean, this is America. You fought for the rights we believe in, for due process.”
His reaction was somewhere between pity and a sneer. “In battle you don’t give someone a chance to say, ‘Oh, sorry, didn’t really mean to shoot you.’ Not when their damn gun is pointing at your head. Those two SOBs already tried to strafe us. Now they’re set up in a blind waiting for us to walk into range. When I saw them, one lay in classic sniper position with his rifle positioned on a bipod. What do you think, I should shout across the river, ‘We’ll give you a chance to do the right thing and pack up and leave’?”
When he put it that way, Maddy felt foolish. Of course he was right. She realized that what bothered her wasn’t so much the idea of bloodshed as it was what summarily killing those two men would do to Will. He hadn’t said so, but he’d come back from war injured badly enough to need many months of rehab. He could well be dealing with some PTSD. He maintained internal walls that had to be hiding something. And now, thanks to her, he was thrown back into battle.
She didn’t want to be the reason he had to kill.
“I’ve made it this far,” she said, chin up. “I feel lousy, but I’m not on the verge of collapse. I can climb, and crossing the creek on a skinny log will probably be harder for you than me—”
“Except that you’ll be doing it one-handed.”
Holding his gaze, Maddy made sure he saw her determination. “If I have to, I’ll take my arm out of the sling. It won’t kill me.”
“Not a good idea.”
Eyes locked, they held a stare, neither wanting to back down. In the end, Will relented.
“We’ll try it your way.”
“Thank you.”
He grunted and said, “Let me fire up the stove to heat water for coffee. I’ll make sure we have enough for a morning cup, too. I want us to make an early start.”
Maddy nodded, even as she couldn’t help thinking sleep wouldn’t come easily tonight given the worries that were bound to get in the way.
* * *
DEEP SHADOWS REACHED them long before sunset. Will had earlier laid out the pad and sleeping bag. Maddy and he sat on it, her cross-legged, him with long legs outstretched. Clouds blocked the moon and had him grumbling about the possibility of rain. Naturally, he had a tarp folded in his pack, which he took out in case of need.
Dinner consisted of a few nuts and a candy bar for her, an energy bar for him. Maddy had a suspicion he hadn’t fairly divided the nuts, and called him out on it.
Those broad shoulders lifted. “I’ve gone without food plenty of times in my life. You’re more vulnerable right now. I’ll stay strong for a few more days.”
She wanted to object, but couldn’t. Her stomach was already taking sharp exception to the news that a nice stir-fry or pizza or a juicy hamburger weren’t forthcoming.
“You know,” he remarked, “if I took those two worthless bastards out, we could raid their packs for food.”
The thread of humor in his voice sparked hers.
“Okay, that’s tempting...but no.”
“Yeah, thought you’d say that.”
The night wasn’t entirely silent. She could hear the creek, rustles all around them. Bats darted into sight and out of it as fast. Mosquitoes whined and she or Will would slap irritably at them. A series of hoots almost had to be from an owl. Once a darker bulk waddled by not ten feet from them.
“Porcupine,” Will murmured.
She held her breath until it was gone. “Thank goodness we haven’t met up with one.”
“They’re nocturnal.”
“Oh.” Maddy was beginning to realize how ignorant she was about everything from the geology of these mountains to the birds and flowers, mammals and fish that made their home here. Today she’d noticed mushrooms beneath trees and she’d caught sight of a lizard. Except for the flies and—whack!—the mosquitoes, she didn’t even recognize the insects.
Once it was safely dark, she said, “You don’t have to answer, but... I was wondering if you have PTSD.”
Will didn’t move for a long time. She couldn’t even hear him breathe. At last he said slowly, “Sure, to some degree. Most of us who’ve seen much combat probably do. I’m holding it together, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“No.” Maddy reached out blindly to lay a hand on his arm. “I wondered, that’s all.”
He covered her hand with his. “I’ve needed more solitude and quiet than usual. I don’t love cities. That’s...something I’ll have to get over if I go—”
Despite the way his hand tightened on hers, she asked, “Go where?”
“Oh, maybe back to school. I haven’t decided.”
His tone held a warning. He didn’t want to tell her his plans. That stung, since he knew everything about her. She had to remind herself that he had no obligation to balance the scales. He’d jumped in to save her life, not to become her best friend or more.
And that, Maddy knew suddenly, was why his retreat hurt. She was falling in love with this man, and obviously the feeling wasn’t reciprocated.
She started the laborious process of getting up. “I think I’ll brush my teeth now.”
Without argument, he reached for the pack where he kept their toiletries.
* * *
HOLDING MADDY IN his arms, Will looked up at the canopy of trees and the complete darkness beyond that told him clouds still blocked the moon. He wasn’t at all sleepy.
Part of his tension had to do with Maddy, who he suspected was pretending she was asleep. The few last words they’d exchanged had been practical. Once they’d arranged themselves on the pad, covered by the open sleeping bag, she’d said, “Good night,” which he’d echoed. Nothing since.
He knew what she felt like asleep, and this wasn’t it. He also knew he was responsible for her withdrawal. Kissing her had scared him. Even thinking about telling her his plans—better labeled as hopes—stirre
d up his insecurities.
If he couldn’t get over his inferiority complex, he’d have to walk away from her once he knew she was safe to go on with her life. Was that what he wanted?
No. And yes. He couldn’t stand hearing condescension or the wrong brand of kindness from Maddy, of all people.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
“Mmm.”
Will smiled. Stubborn woman was giving him the silent treatment, which he deserved.
“I’m sorry,” he said a minute later.
Sounding sincere but frosty, she said, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
He was still smiling, he realized. Maybe that was what pushed him over. “I’m hoping to go to medical school. I’ve been studying for the MCAT.”
“Will!” She lifted her head, although he knew she couldn’t really see him. “That’s wonderful. The years as a medic have to be a big plus.”
“I hope so,” he said a little stiffly. The training had been far more extensive than even a stateside paramedic received. In the midst of battle, military medics had to act without concern for their personal safety. With even a field hospital often hours away, they sometimes even had to perform rough and ready surgery.
“Are you already set on a branch of medicine?”
He hesitated. “No. Maybe trauma, but—” He’d seen too many broken, bleeding bodies already “—I like the idea of family medicine. Being the first line of defense.”
“I like that.” She laid her head on his shoulder again and wriggled a little as if burrowing in closer. “You’ll be an amazing doctor. I can give you a testimonial.”
Will chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now, go to sleep.”
Good advice.
Actually, once he knew she slept, he allowed himself to drop off, too.
Barely past dawn, they each had a cup of coffee—a little weak, since he was running out—and ate the last of their food. He gave her the last painkillers, too. If they could get around the trap, he could carry her if he had to.
Not if, Will told himself. When. A positive attitude worked.
Even so, today was their fifth day.
Half an hour of bushwhacking brought them within twenty yards or so of where he’d crouched yesterday and spotted the gunmen. During the hike he’d made the decision to leave his pack behind. He’d take the few essentials in it—his car keys, phone, wallet, binoculars and the Glock as well as the ice ax, while making absolutely certain there wasn’t anything left that could be used to identify him. He asked Maddy if she was especially attached to anything. She pondered and shook her head. If they were stuck out here for another night, he might be sorry, but he needed to be able to help her and to move quietly and swiftly.
Leaving her, he crept forward again. The sky was still pearly, but damned if the men weren’t in position and appearing alert. He studied them carefully, in part to be sure they were the same two he’d seen. He’d worried all along that there could be more than two. If he was right in thinking the helicopter had stopped to hover near them yesterday, it could have been dropping off more troops.
Personally, if he’d been setting up this op, he’d have left one man in position where they were while having the other work his way up that side of Torrent Creek in case his quarry did exactly what he and Maddy intended to do. His gut said these two were overconfident, smugly certain the woman injured in the plane crash and whatever man accompanied her wouldn’t have the backcountry expertise or the stamina to overcome the challenges.
He went back for Maddy, and they began the tortuous trek up the steep slope above the creek plummeting down from the mountain above.
* * *
MADDY DIDN’T KNOW how she could go on. She’d quit caring if she lived or died. She thought she’d have collapsed long since if she hadn’t assured Will she could do this. Pride. What stupid motivation.
If it works...
She reached for a sturdy alder branch, drew a deep breath and heaved herself up. Her chest and shoulder exploded with pain. In the distant reaches of her head, she knew that every time she used her arm to pull herself upwards, she did bad things to the broken ends of her collarbone, even if the damage was on the other side of her chest. In between, the agony would subside to a dull ache, but this...
I can’t do it. I shouldn’t have said I could.
He’d given her the last ibuprofen this morning, only two pills.
Will paused and turned back, the worry on his face giving her the strength to reach for his hand and let him hoist her the next few feet.
Same result: pain that felt like a knife thrust into her shoulder and twisted. Her vision dimmed, but she focused on his eyes, as dark as charcoal right now.
He knows.
“We’re almost there,” he said in a low voice. “You’re doing great. Five more minutes.”
Five more minutes. She couldn’t do this.
Yes, she could. Five more minutes. She took his hand again.
A branch whipped across her face. Maddy knew without touching her cheek that she was bleeding. At least it hadn’t struck her across the eyes.
Five more minutes.
“Almost there.”
If she could just rest.
“We’re here, sweetheart. We can take a break.”
His tenderness made her eyes sting. With an arm around her waist, he lowered her to sit on a rock. It was a minute before the pain abated enough for her to take a look at the log lying across the head of a viciously foaming cataract. If she fell...well, the first rocks she’d hit were only about ten feet below, but then she’d be bounced—or swept by the white water—down another ten feet, and another.
Scary. Wasn’t that the word Will had used?
Normally, she’d be able to stroll right across it, if only it wasn’t soaking wet.
Close behind her, Will was scanning the other bank through the binoculars. Not looking entirely happy, he slung the strap across his body again.
“Looks like we’re alone up here.”
She nodded, because it seemed like the thing to do.
He growled suddenly. “I’d give anything to be able to rope you up while you cross.”
“What about you? You’re so much bigger. What if—” Maddy couldn’t finish.
His mouth twisted into a smile. “I’ll be okay. Promise.”
She tried to smile, too, when she wanted to grab hold and never let go. She didn’t know why he hadn’t kissed her again, but...
His head bent to hers. “How about a kiss for luck?”
Unhesitating, thankful, Maddy lifted her face to his. The kiss was achingly gentle, heart-wrenchingly sweet. She forgot the pain, forgot what lay ahead of them, lost herself in a kiss nothing like any she’d experienced. When it ended, she barely held back from saying, I love you. This might be the right moment...but it could as well be the worst of moments.
* * *
INCHING ALONG THE log that lay over Torrent Creek was the most hair-raising thing Will had done in a long while, and that included some journeys through dark, narrowing sandstone caves, crouching behind a tree or rock formation half his size as a troop of Taliban wound its way past only feet away from him.
This was damned uncomfortable for a man, besides. He’d never had a problem with heights, but he was going to make an exception for this. The idea of slipping off, not being able to catch himself, hearing Maddy’s cry...
He forced himself to concentrate on what he was doing.
He’d like to feel relief when he reached the other side, but his tension only ratcheted up. Watching Maddy scooting over the skinny log above the torrent, only able to use one hand to propel herself, was going to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
He blew out air, rolled his shoulders, finally taking a minute to search the overgrown creek valley through the binoculars. Nothing s
tood out.
Didn’t mean he could relax.
He had to hold on to his self-control with both hands when he called over the roar of falling water, “Your turn.”
It killed him just watching how long it took her to rise to her feet. She stumbled once reaching the bank. Will closed his eyes. He would do anything...but couldn’t help at all.
She straddled the log the way he had, scooted forward two or three times then stopped and worked the sling past her elbow, slipping her arm out of it. He kept his mouth clamped shut. Whether she could stand the pain if she had to clamp hold with both arms, he didn’t know, but having the arm free if she started to slide was smart.
Maddy winced as she cautiously straightened her injured arm before pulling it back against her body. Still, with just the one hand on the log, she scooted forward again, and again.
Will stood on the bank, his hands flexing into fists, loosening, knotting. He’d have paced, except he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Spray shimmered on her hair. She didn’t look at him at all. Instead, she stared at the log just in front of her with burning intensity.
“Come on, come on,” he chanted under his breath. “You can do it. Keep going. That’s it.”
She passed halfway. A moment later she wobbled, reached out with her injured arm and steadied herself. He thought she cried out, but he couldn’t hear her. She immediately bent forward, cradling her arm.
Shuddering, Will felt rooted where he was. His knuckles ached and his fingernails bit into his palms.
“Keep going. Please. Keep going.”
Maddy never looked up. Just slowly straightened, stared fixedly ahead of herself and resumed inching forward.
The moment she cleared the bank, he snatched her up into his arms.
Chapter Ten
Will thought they were at an elevation of between fifteen hundred and two thousand feet. Maddy wondered why he cared. They were slipping and slithering along a side hill that wasn’t as steep as where they’d been when this all began, but was difficult going anyway. Especially since she so often had to grab a branch for support, wrenching her torso and collarbone. Even so, it was initially a relief compared to their trek straight uphill.
Brace For Impact (HQR Intrigue) Page 11