Suddenly, a rabbit bounded across the road, flushed from the woods by the plane. It darted across their path in a fleeting zigzag, then disappeared through the trees.
A blur at her side caught her attention, and she turned her head to look. The dog bolted forward. The leash abruptly tightened and yanked her into the air.
Unable to catch her balance, she pitched forward. Her knee slammed into the ground, and she lost her grip on the leash. Gravel gouged her palms as she skidded along the road, and then her shoulder smacked the earth, knocking the wind from her lungs. She let out a muffled cry.
“Oh, hell.” Cade ran over and crouched beside her. “Are you all right?”
She rolled to her side and groaned. “I’m fine. Just embarrassed.” Of course, the dog would chase the rabbit. “I should have seen that coming. And I can’t believe I dropped the leash.”
Cade grabbed her arm and helped her to her feet. She rotated her aching shoulder. “I’m just bruised.” But her knee throbbed. She glanced down and grimaced. “So much for my favorite jeans.”
“Let’s see.” Cade squatted before her. Using his good hand, he parted the torn fabric. His finger stroked the periphery of the scrape, sending chills over her skin. “This doesn’t look good. Can you walk?”
She bent her knee, felt the pain, and shook it off. “I’m fine.” But her palms stung. She wiped them on her jeans.
He rose. “Let’s see your hands.”
“They’re all right.”
“Jordan….”
She sighed and held them out. Gravel and dirt were ground into the shredded skin.
Cade grasped one wrist to hold it steady. “Does it hurt?”
“No.” She wasn’t lying. The warmth of his strong hand had driven out any pain. And suddenly, all she could feel were the rough calluses on his fingers as he stroked her wrist, and the answering leap of her pulse.
He moved closer, bending his head to examine her hands, and her gaze traced his strong tanned neck, the blond stubble lining his jaw. He’d removed his hard hat, and his short hair gleamed in the light.
He looked up and scanned her face. “Looks like you hit pretty hard.” He reached out and brushed her cheek. Her breath backed up as his fingers traced a path along her cheekbone, running thrills over her skin. Then he gently cupped her neck.
Her heart stopped.
His eyes narrowed, and he turned perfectly still. Tension arced between them. The familiar pulse of desire.
And suddenly, she wanted to kiss him, to feel that hard body lock against hers, those insatiable jolts of desire. To taste the bliss, the fire, even just for an instant.
And he wanted it, too. She saw the hunger in his eyes, the answering need. Her gaze fell to his mouth.
But he dropped his hand and stepped back. “We’d better get you cleaned up,” he said, his voice strained. “I’ve got bandages in my first aid kit.”
He turned away, and she hissed out her breath. What had just happened? Why had he stopped? She’d seen the desire in his eyes, just as she had on that rock.
It didn’t matter, she reminded herself. She should be grateful that he’d drawn back. She had no business kissing Cade, no matter how exciting he was. That road led only to pain.
“Forget it,” she said, determined to be as practical as he was. “We need to find Dusty first.”
“After that trick? I’d say we let him go.”
“Don’t tempt me.” He turned to face her, and she managed a shallow smile. “That was dumb on my part, though. I should have figured he’d chase the rabbit. I wasn’t thinking.” At least not about the dog.
And as a result, she’d lost him.
Cade pulled the canteen from his bag and strode back toward her. “Hold out your hands.”
“I’d rather wait—”
“I got that part,” he said, sounding impatient. “But at least we can rinse them off.”
“They’re not that bad.”
“Humor me.”
She sighed. Knowing it was useless to argue, she extended her hands.
He poured water on her palms, and the sting made her suck in her breath. “That’s good.” She pulled her hands back and shook off the water, then blotted her palms on her jeans.
“Let’s see your knee.”
She pulled a tissue from her pocket and held it out. “Just pour some water on this and I’ll clean it off. I can do a better job later.”
Cade dampened the tissue, and she quickly swiped at her knee. Blood oozed from the cut, but she didn’t tell him that. She would wait and bandage it later, after they’d found Dusty.
Her apprehension rising, she stuffed the tissue in the trash bag. Then she scanned the forest, hoping for a glimpse of the dog. Dense pines blocked the view on the downhill side, while above them, a tall chain-link fence edged the road.
She blinked, amazed she hadn’t noticed it before. Of course, her mind hadn’t been on the scenery. “Where did that fence come from?”
“The mine.” He stuck his canteen in his bag. “The entrance is probably ahead.”
“What kind of mine do you think it is?”
“Could be anything.” He picked up both bags and started walking. “Silver, coal, gold. Maybe vermiculite.”
“What’s that?” She limped beside him to keep up.
“A mineral they use in insulation. There used to be a big mine near Libby.”
She absorbed that fact, impressed by how much he knew about these mountains. Of course, he’d grown up in the state and spent his spare time outdoors.
But that wouldn’t help them find Dusty. Growing anxious, she whistled and scanned the woods. Surely the dog would come back. He knew they would feed him, protect him. Unless he ran too far and got lost….
A tight feeling spread through her chest. “Dusty!” she called, forcing back a surge of panic. She hadn’t lost him. She couldn’t have. She’d never forgive herself if that happened.
A few yards later, the road leveled out, and she stopped and gasped for breath. “We’d better wait here so he can find us.”
“He’ll catch up.”
“Not if we’re too far ahead.”
Cade squinted in the sunlight. “Let’s go up to that next bend. Then we can take a break.”
“All right.” Her knee aching, her palms burning, she reluctantly hobbled beside him. Locusts buzzed in the rising heat. The dry wind sucked at her skin. But at least the ground leveled off, allowing her pulse to slow back to normal.
Still worrying about the dog, she walked beside Cade to the bend, then turned the corner and stopped. To her surprise, boulders spilled over the road, blocking their path.
She wiped the sweat from her face with her sleeve. “What happened here?”
“I don’t know.” Taking the lead, he forged a path through the weeds around the boulders. “It looks like we can go this way.”
She followed slowly. “Shouldn’t we wait back here? The dog won’t see us on the other side.”
“That depends on where he is.”
“I know, but—”
“Watch out.” He stopped abruptly and held his good arm out to block her. She peered over his broad shoulder to see.
And gasped. Beyond them, the mountain had slid away. Instead of a dense stand of pines, huge rocks littered the hillside for hundreds of yards in either direction. Weathered logs were scattered throughout the debris.
She scanned the area in amazement. “My God. How did this happen?”
“Hard to say. Lightning could have burned some trees on the ridge and loosened the rocks. Or vibrations from the mine set it off.” He glanced around. “Or maybe the mining company blasted the road to keep people out.”
If so, they’d done a good job. She couldn’t even tell where the road had been. “How are we going to get through?” Maybe she could scramble over the rocks, but Cade had an injured shoulder. And some of those boulders were huge.
“We’ll have to go around.”
She glanced up the mo
untain. Climbing the steep slope didn’t look easy. And along the edges of the rock slide, where the earth remained intact, the chain-link fence blocked the way. “We’ll have to go downhill.”
“Too dangerous. We don’t want to be below the rocks if we set off another slide. This thing probably happened in sections.” He nodded toward the nearest slope. “You see where that grass has taken hold? That’s probably the original slide. But look over there.” He pointed further out to a stretch of light-gray rocks. “That’s more recent.”
She nibbled her lip. Despite the danger, it would be faster to go straight across. “You don’t think if we’re careful…”
“It’s too risky. The whole damn hill could collapse.”
“Still…” A sudden yip caught her attention, and her pulse rose. “Do you hear that?”
“Yeah.”
“Dusty!” she called, and another bark rang out. She edged closer to the slide and scanned the wreckage, sure the sound had come from there. But the only thing she could see was a hawk soaring past on the wind, trailing a shadow over the rocks.
“Dusty!” she shouted again. “Where are you?” Then she saw a movement and her heart leaped. “There he is!” The dog crouched between two boulders halfway across the slope. “We’re coming, sweetie,” she called out.
She turned to Cade. “His leash must be caught. I need to climb down there and get him.”
“Forget it. The hill’s unstable.”
“But he can’t get free by himself.” Besides, this was her fault. If she’d held on to the leash, he wouldn’t have gotten away.
And no matter what, she wouldn’t leave him. Cade didn’t know it, but saving dogs helped her deal with the loss of their child, as if by rescuing them, she could alter the past, or make it a little less painful.
“We’ll have to go around and get him from the other side,” Cade said.
“But that could take hours.” The pitiful yips grew louder and tugged at her heart. She couldn’t make him wait that long. She had to get him out now.
And only she could do it. The dog couldn’t get free by himself, and Cade couldn’t climb those rocks with his sling. Besides, she was lighter than Cade and less likely to set off a slide.
His eyes narrowed at hers. “Forget it,” he said, as if reading her mind. “We’re going around.”
“McKenzie,” a voice on his radio called.
“I mean it,” he warned. He swung his PG bag from his good shoulder and pulled out his radio.
She moved closer to the edge of the slide. Cade didn’t want her to cross because he was trying to protect her. But maybe she didn’t need protecting. Maybe she was stronger than he thought.
She glanced back. He’d turned partly away, and she considered the breadth of his shoulders, the lean, muscled line of his legs. It had been easy to lean on Cade, to depend on his knowledge and strength. He was competent and brave, and it felt natural to let him take charge.
But maybe she’d depended on him too much, and that wasn’t fair to him.
She swiveled her gaze back to the rocks. Surely she could do something as simple as rescuing the dog. It couldn’t be that hard to manage. But she needed to move fast, before Cade guessed her intentions and stopped her.
She stepped onto the churned-up slope and immediately slipped on loose gravel.
“Damn it, Jordan!” Cade shouted. “Come back here.”
“I can do this.” Not daring to glance back, she regained her balance and threaded her way through the rocks.
Behind her, Cade swore, and she quickened her pace so he wouldn’t catch her. She really could do this, no matter what he thought. She wasn’t helpless—even if she’d once acted that way.
But soon the rocks jumbled together and she had to resort to climbing. She scaled one large rock, then another, and nearly reconsidered. The sharp stones bit through her thin-soled shoes. Her hands, scraped from her fall, tore more when she grabbed the rough rocks. And her battered knee protested with every step.
And even when she managed to find a level spot of ground between the rocks, the loose soil made it hard to stay upright. She slipped again, sending a stone crashing down the mountain and setting off a small slide.
Her heart pumped hard in her chest. Oh, God. No wonder Cade had warned her not to cross. But no matter what, she couldn’t stop. Dusty depended on her to free him.
Her head low, she pushed aside her doubts and concentrated on inching closer, rock by grueling rock. Climbing up, then down. Sliding, skidding, struggling to stay on her feet, then scaling another boulder. And with every tortured step, the dog’s frantic yips grew louder.
And she was getting hot. The sun beat down on her head and sweat trickled into her eyes. She blinked against the sting, then used the hem of her T-shirt to wipe her forehead. Blood stained the shirt where she’d touched it, and she wiped her raw palms on her jeans.
Breathing hard, she paused and glanced at the dog again. She was closer now and could see him straining to get free. “Hang on,” she called out. “I’m almost there.”
But she still had yards to go. With a sigh, she climbed up another rock. She refused to even think about the long trek back.
“Jordan, stop!” Cade suddenly called.
The urgency in his voice caught her attention and she glanced back. Cade stood yards above her, partway across the slope. “What are you doing?” she demanded. “I said I can get him. Go back.”
“No! Don’t move!”
“Me? You’re the one who shouldn’t be out here.” Not with his injuries. Scowling, she found a foothold on the next rock and pulled herself up.
“Jordan, stop!” he shouted again.
Annoyed now, she paused and glared back. “For God’s sake, Cade, I’m fine. Would you stop being so stubborn and—”
“Don’t turn around! Jordan, please!” The panic in his voice made her freeze. She’d never heard that tone before.
“Good,” he said, his voice tight. “Now straighten up real slow and raise your arms to look big. Don’t let him sense that you’re scared.”
Scared? Of what? What did Cade see? Her nerves tightening, she turned herself slowly forward and scanned the rock slide. The sunlight glinted off the barren landscape. A puff of dust whirled into the air. The dog’s desperate whines grew louder.
Then a movement slightly uphill caught her attention and she turned to look.
And gasped.
A big, tawny cat leaped silently toward her, his powerful muscles bunched under his fur. His ears pricked forward into stalking position, and his silver eyes locked on hers. A few yards above her, he paused, then lowered himself to a crouch.
Fear lodged deep in her throat, tightening the hairs along her nape and damming
the breath in her lungs. A mountain lion. One of the fiercest predators in the forest.
And unless she stopped him, he was about to attack.
Chapter 8
His blood thundering, Cade scooped up a rock with his left hand and inched across the slope. Gravel slid under his boots, sending a stone bouncing downhill, and he froze. Hell. Unless he was careful, he’d spook the cat into attacking before he could get to Jordan.
He gauged the distance between them, and a sick feeling slid through his gut. He was still too far away to protect her. He had to get within throwing range so he could scare the animal off.
But he had to move quickly. A mountain lion could leap from twenty feet.
His heart ramming hard against his rib cage, he stuffed the stone in his pocket, then scooted silently over a boulder. He wished to hell she had listened to him. Why hadn’t she stayed where she was safe?
And why hadn’t he kept his eye on her? He’d suspected she’d go after that dog. Hadn’t she plunged into the river for the knife? So why had he ignored his instincts and turned his back?
Regret speared his gut, along with a tight lump of dread. He’d screwed up, all right. He’d put her in danger, and now it was up to him to save her.
; His gaze locked on the lethal cat, he inched closer. A vision of Jordan being mauled flashed through his mind, and a cold sweat beaded his brow. Damn his injured shoulder! Of all the times for his body to fail him. He wanted to leap over these rocks and rescue her now.
Schooling himself to patience, he scaled another boulder. But then Jordan bent to pick up a rock, and panic rocked his chest. “Don’t bend down!” he urged her. “Stand up tall and look big.”
She looked up at him, her dark eyes flashing with fear. “All right.” Her voice trembled; her terror palpitated in the air.
And if he could sense it, so could the mountain lion.
Which meant that he had to move quickly. His pulse rocketing, he grabbed another stone and climbed closer. “Don’t move,” he urged her. “I’m almost there.”
But then the dog whined again, the mountain lion crept forward, and Jordan threw her rock. It landed wide, and the big cat crouched again, ready to spring.
His heart stopped, and he hurled his rock at the cat. It hit near its paws and the cat looked up.
“Get out of here,” he yelled. “Go on!” He whipped out the second stone and fired it, hitting the animal’s side. The cat turned and leaped away, then stopped and circled back.
Breathing hard, he scooped up another rock and slung it. “Get out!” he shouted again.
Wishing to hell he could use his right arm, he hurled another stone. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jordan do the same. Her aim was off and the rock landed wide, but it kept the cat off balance. He thanked God she hadn’t panicked and fled—because nothing triggered the instinct to pounce like running prey.
The mountain lion paced uncertainly for several seconds, then retreated a few yards and turned back. Cade flung another rock, hitting near its paw again. The cat hesitated a moment longer, then turned tail and loped through the trees.
Cade held up. Still breathing hard, he scooped up another rock and scanned the woods, poised in case it came back. Below him, Jordan rushed over the remaining boulders to the dog, pulled his leash loose, and gathered him into her arms.
Facing The Fire Page 9