by R. C. Ryan
Chapter Four
Casey pulled on his parka and made his way to the cave entrance before turning to Kirby. “I’m going outside to look around. Don’t worry if I’m gone awhile. I’ll be close enough to hear you fire off a shot if there’s any trouble.”
Kirby watched him leave and felt a momentary twinge. If not for this swollen ankle, she could have joined him. She had no doubt he was searching the area for any tracks that might have been left by a man on the run.
She tried to imagine what he was thinking. With a dangerous criminal in the area, was he frustrated to find himself stuck with a wounded animal and an injured woman? Without both, he could be safely home. Still, he hadn’t shown any sign of impatience. In fact, he seemed perfectly calm, cool, and content, caring for her and the mustang as though he’d rather be here in the middle of a blizzard than sitting in front of a cozy fire at home.
She pressed the cold container against her swollen ankle and sank back against her bedroll, listening to the wind swirling outside the cave. With her rifle close beside her, she closed her eyes, grateful for the warmth of the fire, and the company of the horses, dozing in opposite corners.
Casey used his knife to cut off a low-hanging branch of an evergreen. For the next hour he walked around an area that encompassed all sides of the cave, searching for any sign of another human. With every step, he used the feathery branch to erase his footprints. No sense broadcasting to a desperate criminal the fact that there were other people out here.
Though he was fully aware of the danger he faced, another part of his mind was on Kirby Regan.
There was something sweet and vulnerable about her that had all his healing instincts on high alert. It was obvious that she didn’t want to show any weakness. But that stoic nature had him all the more intrigued.
Part of her reticence probably came from losing her parents early and learning to depend only on herself. He knew from experience that losing a parent at an early age left plenty of marks on a child’s soul. Fortunately, he and his brothers had one another, as well as a huge support system. And though Kirby’s uncle opened his heart and home to her, she’d probably experienced plenty of times when she’d felt completely alone in the world. And so she had most likely learned to look out for herself.
She might have spent the past few years in a cushy job in the city, but she had the strength of a conditioned athlete. He could tell her ankle was a lot more painful than she let on. He marveled that she could even stand. In truth, he was glad she hadn’t insisted on leaving with Solitaire. Unless she was able to make the entire descent unmolested, she would have been at the mercy of the weather, the animals, and the man the authorities were searching for.
The fact that she’d come here to buy her childhood ranch added another layer of interest. Casey wondered how it would feel to be separated from the ranch that had been in his family for generations. The ranch, and this land, were as much a part of him as the air he breathed and the food he ate. He hoped Kirby got her wish to buy the place. His hand fisted. There were far too many ranches going up for auction. And no way to save them. It was a fact of life across the West.
Beneath the shelter of evergreens, Casey put a hand up to shade his eyes as a police helicopter came roaring overhead. It veered off, only to be followed by a second helicopter. He watched as the two separated, each going in a different direction. Within minutes the sound of their engines faded.
This was proof that the convict was probably still at large.
When Casey was convinced that he hadn’t missed any evidence of another human in the area, he returned to the cave. Instead of going inside, he walked around it, trying to see it from a passing stranger’s point of view. Though it had a natural barrier on three sides, anyone searching for shelter would find it without too much trouble. Kirby had found it, even in the dark. The huge outcropping of rock and the overlarge entrance had been what drew him to use it to shelter two horses. Those were the same things that would lead a man on the run to take notice.
After cutting more evergreen branches, he began draping them over the top of the cave, and positioning some to hang down far enough to mask the entrance. When he was convinced that the cave was perfectly camouflaged, he stepped inside.
Kirby was standing to one side, leaning slightly against the cave for balance, her eyes narrowed on the entrance, her rifle aimed and ready.
Seeing him, she gave a sigh before lowering the weapon.
“Sorry.” Aware that she’d been prepared to fire off a shot, he touched a hand to her arm. “I should have alerted you that it was me out there, and not a stranger.”
“Yeah. That would’ve saved me a lot of worry.” She put a hand to her heart. “I was gearing up for battle.”
“Yeah. I see that. And cool as a cucumber.”
She gave a weak laugh. “You wouldn’t say that if you could feel the way my heart is pounding.”
“If it’s any comfort, I didn’t see any sign of our convict around here. Apparently, neither did the police, since they left as quickly as they arrived.”
“I heard the helicopters. Mind telling me what all that scraping overhead was?”
“Evergreen branches. Just a little camouflage in case anybody happens to come this way.”
She sank down and set the rifle beside her.
Noticing her pallor, he turned. “I’ll get you a blanket.”
“No.” She held up a hand. “If anything, I’m sweating.”
With a dry laugh he sat down beside her and took her hand in his. “Sorry. I never gave a thought to what you must have been thinking with all that moving and scraping right over your head.”
“I won’t bore you with all the things I was thinking.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
Casey got to his feet and moved around the cave, adding another log to the fire, and checking the mustang. He noted idly that the animal barely flinched as he examined the leg.
When he began to remove the dressings, Kirby limped across the cave and knelt beside him.
He flicked a quick glance over her. “Need something?”
She shook her head. “I thought I’d hand you whatever you need from your medical bag.”
Surprised and pleased, he smiled. “Thanks. You can grab that tube of salve and fresh dressings.”
She did as he asked and watched as he gently applied fresh ointment to the deep gash before once more wrapping the mustang’s leg. He finished up with his usual dose of antibiotics before closing up the bag.
Then he turned to her. “I suppose we should think about lunch—”
They both looked up as a roar louder than any thundering freight train interrupted him. It began at a distance, then drew closer until it passed directly over the cave.
Kirby’s eyes went wide with fear as the cave was enveloped in darkness. If not for the fire, it would have been as dark as midnight. “What—?”
“Avalanche.” Casey swore. “Probably induced by the warming temperature and low-flying copters.”
Smoke began swirling around the cave, burning their lungs.
Coughing, Casey switched on a battery-powered lantern before grabbing a saddle blanket and quickly smothering the flames. “We’re going to miss the heat of the fire, but not the smoke.” He reached for the longest log in the pile and turned to the mouth of the cave. “With nowhere to go, the smoke in this place would make breathing impossible.”
While Kirby watched, he began poking and prodding the log into the wall of snow that had sealed the entrance to the cave.
The snow was so thick, the log couldn’t penetrate. They were buried under a ton of snow. With no way to communicate to anyone where they were.
Casey rummaged through his saddlebags and removed anything that could be used to dig at the mound of snow that covered the entrance. Kirby did the same, searching through the meager things she’d bothered to bring.
Casey held up a small spade with a foldable handle.
Kirby produced a utens
il, which combined a spoon and a fork. As she held it up she couldn’t help sighing. “Aren’t we a pair?”
Casey shrugged. “Something’s better than nothing.” He picked up a log and began jerry-rigging the spade to it, giving it a long, sturdy handle.
Kirby watched him before following his lead and doing the same with her utensil.
They stood side by side at the cave entrance, digging methodically at the snow and tossing it into whatever containers they could find.
“At least we’ll have plenty of drinking water,” Casey remarked as he poured the latest contents into the coffee pot. “And as long as we don’t run out of coffee beans, we’ll have enough caffeine to keep us wired for the job ahead.”
“How will we make coffee without a fire?”
He pointed to his gear. “I carry an Insta-pot for camping. All the comforts of home.”
Kirby managed a smile, though her fear was clearly etched on her face.
By midday, after they’d shed their parkas and struggled to ignore their aching muscles, Casey touched a hand to Kirby’s arm. “You need a break. In fact, we both do.”
Without a word she dropped down and leaned her head against the wall of the cave.
Seeing the pain etched on her face Casey moved toward their supplies. “I’ll fix something for lunch.” He sorted through the packets of food and lifted two containers. “I’ve got chili or beef-and-barley soup. Name your poison.”
When he got no response he looked over at her. Her head had lowered almost to her chest, her breathing slow and easy.
With a smile he unrolled her sleeping bag and picked her up. Easing her down onto its inviting warmth, he covered her and knelt back to see if she’d stir.
With a sigh she rolled to one side, sound asleep.
Kirby awoke with a start. Sitting up, she saw Casey still digging at the snow-covered entrance.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep—” she looked down at her sleeping bag and realized that he must have moved her while she slept “—and I certainly didn’t mean to leave all the work to you.”
“When a body is fighting an injury, sleep is healing.” He paused. “How’s your ankle?”
She looked away, to hide any pain that might be evident in her eyes. “It’s okay.”
“There’s chili warming in that Insta-pot.”
“Thanks.” She hobbled across the distance and filled a bowl, practically inhaling it before setting it aside to join him.
She worked nonstop, determined to make up for the time she’d lost sleeping. If Casey noticed, he made no mention of it, and for that she was grateful.
In the corner of the cave Solitaire stomped a foot and snorted.
Kirby chuckled. “I think he’s trying to tell you he’s bored silly.”
“I hear him loud and clear.” Casey joined in her laughter. “Poor guy just wants to be free of this place.”
“Do you think we’ll get out of here?”
Casey nodded. “We’re making progress. And since we have no choice, we’ll just keep chipping away until we see daylight.”
“Or moonlight.” Kirby shot him a sideways glance. “With our phones out of commission, and no way to see outside, I’m feeling really fuzzy brained. Do you think it’s still daylight? Or could it be dark outside?”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. The only thing that will dictate our staying or leaving this place, after we dig out, of course, will be that little filly.” He indicated the mustang, watching them warily from a corner of the cave. “Once she can stand and walk, we’ll head down the mountain.”
Kirby tried not to let him hear her little sigh. Oh, how she wanted to be out of this scary place and safely away from the threat of a convict on the run.
It might have been an hour or several hours later when their flimsy utensils broke through the last few inches of snow. Though it was a hole no bigger than a cup, they could see the gleam of moonlight on the crusted snow beyond.
“Look.” Casey moved aside so Kirby could see what he’d just glimpsed.
“We did it.” Kirby’s sudden smile was as bright as her mood. Without thinking she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a fierce hug. “Oh, Casey. We did it.”
“Yes, we did.” His words, spoken against her temple, sent heat spiraling down her spine. “I’d say we’re a damned fine team.”
“Well…” Awkwardly she stepped a little away.
Aware of her embarrassment, he turned toward the fire. “To celebrate, we’re going to have that steak I promised.”
He removed several packages from the cooler. Now that there was fresh air, he started a fire, before tossing a steak and two twice-baked potatoes on foil over a small wire grill. While they were cooking, he rummaged beneath a layer of ice and retrieved two longnecks. Popping the caps, he handed one to Kirby before touching his bottle to hers. “Here’s to…” He thought a minute before adding, “Here’s to teamwork.”
She smiled. “To teamwork.”
Looking pleased, they tipped up their bottles and drank.
When their meal was ready they sat beside the fire and enjoyed steak, potatoes, and a foil-wrapped package of peas and tiny carrots.
Kirby took one taste and gave a hum of pleasure. “Are these veggies homegrown?”
Casey nodded. “From Billy’s garden. Actually it’s a greenhouse we made for him for his birthday several years ago.”
“A greenhouse. What cook wouldn’t love his own greenhouse?”
“He told us it was the best birthday present ever. The man’s a stickler for natural foods. And he’s a wizard with everything he prepares. I don’t think he ever serves the same meal twice. Except for his famous pot roast. That’s become everyone’s favorite.”
“How lucky are you.” Kirby tasted her steak and gave another sigh. “I haven’t eaten anything this good in years. When I worked in the city, I never cooked. There was no time. It was either stop at a neighborhood restaurant or order carryout.”
“How did you happen to move so far away?”
She shrugged. “Uncle Frank used to preach to me that I could be anything I wanted. And what I wanted was to spend the rest of my life right here in Wyoming, ranching like him. But he reminded me that he’d sent Caroline away to get an education, and he planned to do the same for me. He helped me pick the college, and when I interned for the Association of Land Management in DC, it seemed a natural progression to continue working there after I graduated.” Her tone lowered and there was an edge to it as she added, “Besides, at the time, Caroline and her husband were considering making a move back to Wyoming to stay with her father.”
“Was that your reason for remaining in DC?”
For a moment she didn’t answer. Then, haltingly she said, “When I told Caroline that I would be happy to move home and lend a hand, she emailed me to say that she didn’t want any additional stress put on her father, that his doctor had confided in her that Uncle Frank’s health was failing.”
“Stress? She actually suggested that your return might cause him stress?”
Kirby looked away. “I don’t know if that’s what she meant, but that’s how I understood it. And so, I wasn’t there when he passed.”
Casey decided to put a positive spin on things. “Well, you’re back now, and about to fulfill your dream of ranching like your uncle.”
She managed a smile. “Yeah. That’s true.”
Casey leaned back against his saddle and crossed his ankles, enjoying the last of the meal and the beer.
Knowing they’d broken through the barrier of snow was reason enough to celebrate. And though the steak was perfection, and a cool longneck was an added bonus, the truth was, for Casey, the company of this pretty woman was pure frosting on the cake.
She was easy to talk to, and just as easy to listen to.
When he started to collect their dishes, Kirby stopped him. “You cooked. I’ll clean up here. Besides, you need to check on your patient, Doctor.”
Whi
le Kirby dropped their dishes in a pan of water heating over the fire, he crossed to the mustang.
A short time later Kirby was beside him, handing him the ointment and clean dressings as he removed the old ones. When she handed him a syringe, their fingers brushed, sending a quick sizzle of heat dancing along his arm.
When it had happened before, he’d tried to ignore it. Now he realized that he’d been anticipating it. And he had to admit, he was enjoying it way more than he should. Just as he’d thoroughly enjoyed her spontaneous embrace earlier.
Later, as they climbed into their sleeping bags, Casey lay watching the flickering shadows cast on the walls of the cave by the fire.
He’d never before shared his time in the wilderness with anyone. He’d always jealously guarded these treks into the mountains, away from all human contact. But as reluctant as he was to admit it, he’d enjoyed Kirby’s company. And though he was eager to get this mustang to the barn, where he could give the poor animal more sophisticated treatment, he’d be sorry when this little idyll ended.
Kirby Regan was a damned fine companion. She’d been surprisingly easy to be around. He couldn’t think of another woman, with the exception of Gram Meg, who would have endured so many unpleasant events. A blizzard, a sprained ankle, an avalanche, and the threat of a dangerous criminal hiding in the area. And all in the space of a couple of days. And she was still smiling.
That smile of hers played through his mind as he drifted into sleep.
Chapter Five
Kirby awoke to the incessant sound of dull, methodical thuds.
She opened her eyes to see Casey using a log to enlarge the opening of the cave. Kirby surmised that he must’ve been at it a while, since it was now big enough to allow a man to exit.
“Good morning.” She eased out of her sleeping bag and was pleased to note that the almost crippling pain had lessened enough to allow her to stand without clenching her teeth. But just barely.