“What’s so funny?”
Grace glanced up to find Travis watching her. He’d taken off his T-shirt, declaring it smelt worse than a high school gym locker, and stood with hands fisted on lean hips. His chest was broad and covered with a light sprinkling of dark hair. Her fingers twitched with the urge to stroke across the hard plains of his pecs down the intriguing trail of hair that crossed washboard abs and disappeared into his shorts. She gave herself a mental shake.
“Nothing’s funny.”
“You were smiling.”
Standing, she wiped her hands on the backside of her shorts. “I was thinking my own family wouldn’t recognize me. Who would have thought I could go from five-star hotels to a pup tent with such style?”
Surrounded by two-day-old stubble, his teeth gleamed white. “I’m willing to bet everything you do is accomplished with style.”
“I try. Is dinner ready?”
“Just about. Grab the mess kits, and I’ll dish it up.”
While they ate, she studied their surroundings. Camped in a wooded area near a narrow stream, skunk cabbage grew in profusion along the banks. Unfortunately, the water was only ankle deep, so she’d have to settle for a sponge bath after dinner instead of a swim. A stiff breeze fluttered the leaves of the birch and aspen over her head. She shivered.
“Cold?” He’d thrown on a faded blue cotton shirt but left it unbuttoned.
Just looking at him took away her chill.
“It’s cooler this evening, but that isn’t why I shivered. It’s this place. You can’t see between the trees, and I keep wondering what’s hiding in them.”
“No lions and tigers. Maybe a bear or two.”
“You’re a regular comedian.” Full, she set her dish on the ground. Wylie gulped down the remains in eight seconds flat. She glanced up from her watch and frowned. “I wonder when he last ate a bowl of kibble.”
“From the looks of him, it’s been a while. I’m amazed a pack of coyotes didn’t devour him.”
She scratched his ears. “Poor baby. I wish we had more food.”
Bending to pick up her empty dish, Travis stilled then swiveled to stare into the trees. When she opened her mouth, he held up a hand for quiet.
Ears straining, she couldn’t hear anything but the murmur of the creek and the wind rattling the aspen leaves. Taking one step, he grabbed her arm and pushed her toward a clump of bushes. The dog growled.
His lips brushed her ear. “Stay low and out of sight, and keep the damn dog quiet.”
With her arm around Wylie, she flattened on the ground. A branch gouged into her side. Biting her lip against the pain, she clutched the quivering dog. “It’s okay, boy.”
Heart pounding, she waited. The smell of dirt made her nose twitch. How long had Travis been gone? Five minutes, ten? She’d lost track of time. Did the man following us find him? Is he lying on the forest floor bleeding with a knife wound to the chest? She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to erase the image, and choked back a sob. Please, God, not that. Anything but that.
Chapter 7
“You can get up now.”
Curled beneath the bush with her arms wrapped around the dog, Grace looked small and defenseless. Not the way he was used to seeing her. Her eyes popped open, revealing relief and something he couldn’t put a name to. She rose slowly, took a step forward and punched him in the chest.
Travis staggered backward. “What was that for?”
“For scaring me to death!” Hands balled into fists, her whole body shook. “I thought you were out there somewhere, maimed and bleeding—or worse.”
Warmth filled him. “Ah, shucks, I didn’t know you cared.”
She punched him again. “Idiot!”
“Hey!” When a throat cleared behind them, he remembered their unexpected guests. “Be nice, Grace. We have company.”
Pink crept up her neck and colored her cheeks. “Perfect.”
He turned and motioned the pair forward. “Grace Hanover, meet Brad and Wendy Gilbert. They’re on their honeymoon.”
She stepped toward them and held out her hand. “Congratulations. You’ll have to excuse my display of emotion. I thought Travis tangled with a—a grizzly bear. I may have overreacted a teensy bit.”
The man swung his arm around his wife’s shoulders and squeezed. “I’m sure Wendy can sympathize.”
“I’d die if Brad was in danger.” The short, dark-haired woman pressed her cheek against her husband’s arm and smiled at Grace. “Love does that to you.”
Travis could almost hear her teeth grinding.
“Yeah, love, sure.” She took a deep breath and stepped away from him. “I’m impressed you caught up to us. We set a stiff pace today.”
“We didn’t.” The man’s brown eyes glowed as he gazed down at his bride. “We’ve been camping in the area for a while now, enjoying the scenery.”
Travis’s interest in the pair escalated. “A friend of ours is out here, hiking. Maybe you’ve seen him?”
“Forty-something with longish brown hair and a tie-dyed T-shirt?”
His pulse quickened. “That sounds like Mark.”
“We talked to him early this afternoon. He left the main trail a couple of miles north of here. Said he had an itch to climb Mount Snow.”
“Mount Snow?”
Brad grinned. “Not officially. It has some Inuit Indian name I can’t pronounce that means snow. At least I think that’s what it means.”
“I’ve seen it on the map. Is there a trail?”
“Not much of one, but if you keep your eyes open, you’ll notice it.” He glanced down at his wife. “We were just out for an evening stroll and should head back to our camp. Nice meeting you both.”
“Our pleasure.” Grace’s eyes were sober as she gave the couple a half-hearted smile. “Enjoy the rest of your honeymoon.”
“We definitely will.” Wendy giggled, and with arms entwined, the two disappeared into the trees.
Travis kicked a rock. Pain shot up his leg, and he winced. “Well, that bites.”
“What’re we going to do now?”
“We’re going to follow Sutton and pray he isn’t hiking faster than we are. Damn. I’d hoped to run into him early tomorrow. His detour is likely to add days to our time out here.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re sure it was Sutton they saw?”
“The description fits.” He scratched the back of his neck and stared down at the dog, who stared back through liquid brown eyes. “Actually, this might work to our advantage. If we get an early start, maybe we can lose our tail and avoid a confrontation that could turn very ugly.”
“Exactly how early is early?”
He smiled at her wary expression. “First light, four-thirtyish.”
Grace’s sigh spoke volumes. “The good news is I’m finding you less of a temptation by the minute.” Turning her back, she marched to her pack and pulled out a handful of clothes and a toiletry bag. “After I clean up, I’m going to bed.”
“If you’re feeling overwhelmed, you can always head back to the lodge, maybe tag along with the honeymooners.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “Not a chance. I’ve come this far, I won’t turn around now.”
* * * *
Something brushed her face. Grace slapped at it without opening her eyes, too tired to care what it was.
“Time to get up.”
Ignoring the voice, she burrowed deeper into her sleeping bag. Lips tickled her ear then trailed across her cheek, sending a shiver through her. She touched a whisker roughened jaw.
“I’d rather stay right here.”
His mouth closed over hers. On a scale of one to ten, she’d give him a twelve in the kissing department. Her head spun. Heat flowed through her, curling her toes. She responded with enthusiasm.
With a groan, he pulled away. “We have to get moving.”
Grace opened her eyes. Above her, Travis was a dark shadow. “It’s still the middle of the night.”
<
br /> “The sun will be up before we’re on the trail.” He bent and kissed her again, a hard brush of his lips. “As tempting as you are, my immediate concern is losing the guy following us. Up and at ’em.”
“My dad used to say that when we were kids. I hated it then, too.” Unzipping her sleeping bag, she crawled out into the chilly morning air. Teeth chattering, she pulled on a sweatshirt. “Coffee. I need caffeine.”
“No time.” He chucked their sleeping bags out of the tent and started dismantling it. “Get your stuff packed. We’ll eat while we walk.”
The thought of breakfast at this ungodly hour held little appeal. She loaded her sleeping bag and pad into her pack then headed for the bushes to pee. Taking a moment at the creek, she splashed water on her face. The bracing chill snapped her into wakefulness. Leaning back on her heels, she stroked Wylie with a damp hand. “We’d better get back up there before Travis comes looking for us.” When the dog licked her wrist, she smiled.
One foot in front of the other. Stumbling down the trail in the semi-dark a short time later, she repeated the mantra through clenched teeth. Ahead of her, Travis walked with a jaunty step. Obviously he was one of those disgusting morning people. Another thing they didn’t have in common.
“How’re you doing?” He called over his shoulder without having the decency to turn around.
“Peachy.”
“We can take a break and have something to eat once we get off the main trail.”
The amusement in his voice found a home on her third nerve. “Wylie can have my share. I’m not hungry.”
“How long are you going to sulk?”
A yawn nearly cracked her jaw. “Not sure. Maybe another hour or so.”
“Good to know. I’ll set my watch and check back with you then.”
Grinning, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her bad mood evaporated as the sun rose, shining golden through the trees. With each passing mile, the forest thinned, turning to a stretch of rugged grassland.
“Damn.”
“What’s wrong?” Her voice croaked from disuse. She cleared it.
“Without cover, it’s easy to spot someone in this terrain with a pair of binoculars. Forget what I said about taking a break. We need to run instead.”
“How am I supposed to do that carrying a backpack?”
He stopped abruptly. “Hot damn, that must be the secondary trail. See those scuffmarks. I’m guessing Sutton dropped his pack there, maybe to pull out a map or food.”
Grace stared at the ground and blinked. Dirt and rocks, a few bent grass stems... Wylie sniffed the area before wandering off.
Turning, Travis faced her. Worry lines fanned out from his eyes. “I really want to lose the guy tailing us. See the trees up there near the base of the mountain. We can rest when we get to them.”
Her skill at judging distance without convenient street blocks was sadly lacking, but she guessed it was at least a couple of miles. “I suppose I can run that far. Let’s do it.”
His eyes warmed. “You’re a good sport.” Bending, he brushed away the prints in the dirt. “Not much I can do about the grass. Try to stay on the rocks until we get a few yards away. This isn’t much of a trail, and I’m hoping the man following us will pass by without noticing it.”
Stepping carefully, she followed Travis across the uneven ground. Wylie tore through the grass, ears flapping as a big jack rabbit bounded before him. After a couple of minutes, he returned, a disappointed look in his eyes.
“Sorry, buddy.” She gasped for air. Running with the pack was an effort. It thumped painfully against her tailbone, but she didn’t dare stop to adjust the straps. The distance between her and Travis increased gradually. She forced herself to run faster.
Reaching the trees took an eternity. Focused on the blur of green, it slowly morphed into individual, towering spruce and hemlocks. The rising sun filtered through the branches, and a bed of needles padded the ground beneath her aching feet.
“We can stop now.”
Grace slid the pack from her shoulders and let it fall with a thump. She dropped next to it, her chest rising and falling with her labored breathing. Rivulets of sweat soaked her shirt, and needles clung to damp skin. With tongue hanging and sides heaving, Wylie flopped down a short distance away.
“You okay?”
Letting out a long breath, she closed her eyes. “Yeah.”
“I’m unbelievably impressed.”
Grace opened one eye, squinting against the light angling down on her face. Travis stood next to her. His thigh muscles bunched beneath soft cotton sweatpants when he squatted beside his pack.
“By what, my graceful collapse or sweat drenched hair?”
“Good God, Grace, half the Navy SEALS I trained with couldn’t have maintained that pace. You’re an animal.”
“A compliment guaranteed to put a smile on any woman’s face.”
He laughed and squeezed her shoulder. “I take back everything I said about you slowing me down. How many miles a day do you run to stay in that kind of shape?”
The light breeze dried the sweat dripping down her neck, and she sighed. “I don’t know. I watch old action movies while I run on a treadmill for an hour or so every day.”
“A gym rat?”
“You bet.”
“Well, it’s working.” Turning with a handful of power bars, he offered one.
“Not hungry. It’s only five-thirty for heaven’s sake.”
“Eat it, anyway. You need the calories after that sprint.”
With an eye roll, she sat up, ripped open the package, then broke off a piece and tossed it to Wylie. He gulped it down without chewing. Munching whole grains and nuts pressed together with molasses, she nearly choked when Travis pulled off his thermal shirt to drape it over a bush. His chest glistened with sweat beneath damp hair.
Not the smooth, model type physique she was used to seeing at the gym. A real man. She forced her gaze away and shivered.
“Your damp shirt will give you a chill in this breeze. You should change it.”
He had a point. Opening her pack, she rummaged through it and pulled out a T-shirt. Then, with a shrug, she jerked the sweaty one over her head. The jog bra covered a lot more than a bikini top. Too bad it was soaked, too. Presenting her back, she found a clean bra in the pack and made short work of changing.
When she turned, Travis swallowed and looked away.
“Modesty has never been one of my virtues, or vices, depending on how you look at it. Besides, you didn’t go hide behind a tree.”
“I’m not complaining.”
After pulling on a fresh shirt, he handed her another bar. “Eat this, and then we’ll get moving.”
Grace shared with Wylie before accepting Travis’s help to ease the pack onto her back. After adjusting the straps, she nodded. “I’m ready.”
“Then let’s go. It’s going to be a long day.”
Long was an understatement. Excruciating. Exhausting. Enervating. She made a game of picking new letters and thinking of adjectives to describe her misery. Her legs shook with fatigue before Travis finally called it quits for the night.
“Damn. I was really hoping we’d catch up to Sutton.”
She collapsed onto a rock. “Doesn’t the guy take breaks? Shouldn’t he stop to enjoy the scenery?”
“You’d think. He must have a destination in mind.”
“Goody for him. Any idea where it might be?”
“I’m not familiar with the area, and the map doesn’t list points of interest.” With short, jerky movements, he unloaded his pack. “I just hope like hell he didn’t double back or stray off this poor excuse for a trail. If we lose him…” His lips pressed together.
“Speaking of losing, you haven’t mentioned the man following us all day.”
Some of the worry lines on his face smoothed. “That’s the only bright spot. I’m almost certain he missed our detour. Now if we can just find Sutton before he figures out where we went,
our chances of getting out of here without incident are better than fifty-fifty.”
“That’s better?” Her voice rose.
“Damn right. I wasn’t joking about the danger, Grace. You can still turn around and go back.”
She was too tired to worry about percentages, and certainly too tired to argue. “What’s for dinner?”
He was slow to answer. “Pork tamales and rice.”
“I’ll go fill the water containers. At least the stream is deep here so we can have a decent bath. I’m pretty sure I smell worse than Wylie. No offense, boy.”
Apparently, the dog didn’t hold a grudge. He followed her as, taking the containers and purifier, she walked to the creek, slapping at stray mosquitoes undeterred by the repellent she wore. Mount Snow—or whatever its name was—towered over them, casting shadows across the campsite. A circle of blackened stones indicated someone had used it before them, not that Travis would build a fire. Flames in the night would draw attention they couldn’t afford if the man following them was anywhere within miles.
After pumping water through the purifier to fill the bottles, she carried them back to the small clearing then dug clean clothes, a towel and soap from her pack. Travis gave her no more than a quick glance before returning his attention to preparing their meal. With a shrug, she headed down to the creek. Wylie dogged her heels every step of the way.
The man was in a surly mood this evening. Worry about Sutton, she supposed. Too exhausted to speculate over Travis’s ill humor, she pulled off her shoes and socks then stripped out of filthy shorts, shirt and underwear before wading into the stream. The cold water flowed around her, refreshing and relaxing, as she dipped under the current. When her limbs began to numb, she scrubbed with the soap and washed her hair then rinsed. Shivering, she waded out, snatched the towel off a rock and wrapped it around her. Sitting in a patch of sunlight, she let the warmth seep into her chilled skin.
Every Step She Takes (Who's Watching Now Book 2) Page 6