Odd she’d never thought about that before.
“I’m sorry.” She blew out a breath. “I do see what you mean now.”
He shrugged. “It is what it is. Technology changes things. So tell me about you and mountain running. I’d figured out it had to be more than a casual interest.”
“How?”
Clay laughed as he worked on the fire, placing more medium weight logs on it. “Today was the giveaway. You spent forty-five dollars on a T-shirt.”
“Hey, that was the clearance price too, and totally worth it. It’s not just a T-shirt. It’s an Arc’teryx that’s moisture wicking and technical so that it—” His expression looked remarkably like Kate’s anytime Summer tried to talk about clothes, outdoor gear or not. She laughed too. “Okay, fine, so the gear gives me away.”
“And your dedication,” he continued. “Not to mention the way your face looks when you’re running up a mountain.”
She tilted her head to the side, unsure what he meant. So she sat, listening to the creek and the small crackle of the fire and waited for him to explain.
“You look like you’re somewhere else, almost. It looks a lot like worship.”
Summer was already shaking her head. “Worship?”
“Thanking God. Praising.”
“I know what it is. I’m just curious why you think I would.”
“Your brother’s faith is one of the reasons we became friends in the first place. Two guys at a state school—we stuck out a little bit wanting to follow Jesus. I’ve talked enough with Noah to know he shares that faith. I don’t know much about Kate, she’s pretty busy and keeps things to herself but I’ve seen her Bible in the lodge in your family’s area and it moves around, like she takes it different places to read.”
The man really did take “observant” to a whole new level.
“And you’re telling me that with three siblings who know Jesus, you honestly don’t?”
Heartbeats passed. “That’s not what I said, either.” Summer forced the words out slowly.
They sat by the fire in silence. She didn’t offer any more information. Clay didn’t ask any questions.
Her shoulders fell. She wasn’t giving up on escaping from this man who wanted her dead. Not by a long shot. But his silent, unknown, possible presence made everything feel heavier, made her consider everything more deeply. What if he did succeed, did manage to kill her? Was she happy with her life now?
If she died now, could she honestly say she’d been living for the last three years?
TWELVE
Clay knew he’d misstepped, at least where Summer was concerned. What he didn’t know was how, exactly. He’d assumed up until now that Summer might be in one of those seasons of life where she was busy and her times with God were inconsistent, but it appeared she intentionally avoided God.
As a police officer, Clay had seen more than his share of how life could break people. He’d seen people who had let tragedy push them to vices. Drugs. Alcohol. It wouldn’t surprise him if Summer used mountain running to escape in the same way. What he didn’t know was how to convince her that he understood, that he didn’t think worse of her because she wasn’t living in her faith right now. He was sad for her. But it didn’t change his opinion of her.
“What did my brother tell you about me?”
“What do you mean?” Clay asked in an attempt to stall for time, to give himself a minute to figure out how to react to her question. This was the kind of conversation he hadn’t anticipated ever having with Summer. They were friends. Bodyguard and woman in danger. It wasn’t that the topic was anything too intimate, but it was certainly personal, more personal a conversation than he’d have guessed they would be having.
How long was he going to have to tell himself those things until he finally and truly believed it?
He met her glacier-blue eyes, swallowing hard at the knot in his throat that had nothing to do with this particular conversation and everything to do with the draw he felt toward her.
Summer took a breath and continued, “I was under the impression somehow, when we first met, that he’d told you about me.”
“Just that you were his sister and to stay away from you.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Her voice had hardened. Interesting. Why?
Clay shook his head, not sure what he was reassuring her about, but wanting to anyway. “I don’t think he meant anything bad by it.”
Her laugh was hard, cold. “Sure he didn’t. I get it, okay, Clay? You’re this great guy. You’ve got real faith. Guys like you deserve women who believe as strongly as you do.”
“There you go again, talking about yourself like you don’t know Jesus when you haven’t answered my question yet about whether or not you do. Are you a Christian, Summer?”
He wasn’t usually so blunt, didn’t usually feel it was the best approach, but Summer was pushing him toward it. Maybe she was pushing to see if he’d give up on her? He wasn’t sure but he could tell she was going for some kind of reaction. He didn’t know if it was best to give it to her or not, but the woman touched such a raw place inside him, ignited his emotions to such a degree that he didn’t want to measure what he said, didn’t want to keep his distance anymore and keep his feelings uninvolved.
Honestly he wanted to kiss away every frown line on her face that said she didn’t think she was good enough. Good enough for whom? She was the kind of woman who was so hopelessly out of his league he had hardly allowed himself to consider her.
“I asked Jesus to save me when I was seven,” she said softly. “Told him I knew I was a sinner. That I believed His death on the cross was for me too. And I did, Clay.” She sniffed. He didn’t know if she was crying or if the smoke was bothering her. So Clay didn’t do anything, just waited.
But after a long moment of silence, he finally prompted her, “And?”
She smiled wryly. “My faith may be a bit...lapsed at the moment, but I know that’s all that’s required. What do you mean, ‘and’?”
“Something happened to take the childlike faith of a seven-year-old and dampen it, push it aside.”
Summer let out a breath. “Even if you had looked me up I guess you wouldn’t know this part.”
“I told you I didn’t. I don’t know anything about you that you haven’t told me. Besides that your brother wanted you to be off-limits—but, Summer, I think that was because he doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.”
She was already shaking her head. “No, he just knows...” Her cheeks flamed. “He knows how easy it is for me when my heart gets involved to forget everything else.”
Clay’s chest was tight, it was getting harder to breathe. Something about the heartbreak coming off Summer was affecting him. Was this what it felt like to be really truly close to a person? He’d had a few solid friends in high school, guys from his town who he was still pretty close to today. But there was an added element here, and it was not just attraction.
He stoked the fire a little more. Looked at Summer. Her face was a mixture of so many expressions. Even though he hadn’t pressured her to share anything, he felt like he should step back, give her a chance to see if she wanted to continue this story. He had a feeling it wasn’t one she told often.
“I’m going to take a quick walk around.”
“Without me?”
“I’ll be within sight at all times,” he promised. “I just want to check the perimeter, basically make sure I don’t see any signs that someone’s hiding.”
She blinked. “Okay.”
He nodded. Walked away. Whatever happened between them or didn’t, Clay never wanted her to feel anything resembling pressure. This story was a piece of Summer. If she wanted to share it, it was a piece he’d accept, whatever it held. But Clay needed to know she’d thought through what they were doing, the way they were quick
ly crossing the line into a relationship that wasn’t in any way superficial anymore, was barely resembling professional at this point, though it was still completely appropriate.
Clay’s check of the woods around them didn’t yield anything, which was reassuring but also concerning. Was it too quiet? Or was he just jumpy? Clay still had no way of knowing whether the shooter would come after them again tonight. On one hand, it was logical to assume their shooter had a plan of attack—a reason why he had chosen to strand them in this desolate place. On the other, he might have assumed animals or exposure would ensure they didn’t make it out of the woods alive, even if he didn’t personally follow them far.
Only time would tell. And Clay was a patient man. He could wait.
He just wished for Summer’s sake that he could reassure her.
Instead he sat back down near her and the fire, and glanced over at her.
Her emotions weren’t written as plainly on her face anymore, the familiar mask had come back over it. He expected that was the end of that.
“I ran off with another mountain runner.”
The words had no preamble, nothing to soften the blow.
“He wasn’t a Christian, and my parents and especially my siblings made it clear how they felt about me giving up on what I’d been taught, leaving with him, living with him...” Her voice trailed off and Clay heard what she left unsaid. He had no idea what to say. There didn’t seem to be anything he could say to encourage her, and he could feel that she wasn’t done—she was just giving it to him in parts the best she knew how.
“They warned me.” She blew out a breath. “They told me nicely, harshly, any way they thought I’d listen, all of them taking turns playing good cop and bad cop, really.” Summer shook her head. “I put them through so much and I didn’t even know it at the time.” She shrugged as a tear, only one, ran down the edge of her cheek. “I didn’t think about it.”
“People usually don’t.”
“Anyway. I pushed them away enough that they finally left me alone. And I was happy. I thought we were happy. And then...”
Clay’s stomach rolled. He thought he could feel what was coming next.
“I got pregnant. But...”
She didn’t pause long enough for the words to sink into Clay’s mind before she kept going. He fought to stay focused, keep his mind from spinning, asking questions he didn’t know if he should ask aloud or leave unsaid. God help her tell me what You want her to share. He finally managed to form the words to a prayer in his mind. It was all he could think to do.
“I lost the baby. Miscarried at thirteen weeks.”
He didn’t know much about babies but did some quick math. Three months? And the whole pregnancy was only supposed to last nine? He thought he recalled that the risk of losing a baby usually happened in the first trimester. She’d been a third of the way there, out of the woods...
“He had a new girlfriend by the time I got out of the hospital.” Her emotions had shuttered again, her eyes revealed nothing in the darkening light. “I couldn’t run for a couple of months due to complications. By the time I was physically ready to get back to it, my family needed me. I owed them an apology that was more than just words. The lodge was in trouble so I came back, hoping the tiny bit of fame I had leftover would be enough to give the hikes we offer at Moose Haven Lodge an edge over some of our competition, especially the bigger chain resorts. If I’d helped out the summer they’d asked me to, rather than leaving with Christopher, the lodge might never have been in trouble to begin with...” Her voice trailed off.
Another exhale. “And that’s why he wanted you to stay away from me. I’m not the kind of woman you deserve.”
“What makes you so sure? You’ve been through more than most people your age dream about and you’ve come out stronger. Don’t you see that? You aren’t broken.”
“I am, Clay.” She shook her head. “I am.”
He hesitated. “Fine. But if you are, it’s just so God can put you back together. Stronger. Even more beautiful.” He lifted her chin, softly, slightly.
He looked at her face but she wouldn’t meet his eyes, kept hers on the ground. He didn’t move his hand, didn’t look away. Finally her eyes lifted to meet his, filling his heart with something stronger than he’d ever felt, some kind of pull, attraction that Clay had to fight with all his might to resist covering her lips with his. He wanted to kiss away the pain she’d shared, kiss away her insecurities, but it wouldn’t be fair to her, to either of them. Not right now. It wasn’t the right time or place. For either of them. Especially in light of all Summer had just shared. He was starting to care about her, much more than she realized, Clay was pretty sure. But she was vulnerable right now and he wouldn’t take advantage of that.
“I’m just not that woman, Clay. I don’t know if I can be.”
Her words fell in the quiet like weights. He could almost feel the pull of them inside his own chest, sinking any kind of hope of convincing her otherwise.
And he had to sit there, not do anything physical to convince her that she was wrong. His arms felt empty with how much he wanted to pull her close, just hold her. Tight. Maybe forever.
A gunshot broke through the air.
Clay was instantly on alert but couldn’t place where it came from—except that it was close.
He finally located the spot where dirt had flown up. Just behind and to the left of Summer.
She looked up at him, eyes wide. Glanced at her leg.
And the red soaking her khaki hiking pants just below her knee.
* * *
Summer’s breath came faster as she tried to process what had happened. Shot. She’d been shot.
“We have to run. Go as fast as you can. I’ll find you but I need you safe.” Clay’s voice, so soft only moments before, supportive, understanding, was firm. He left no room for argument even though she knew he’d seen the blood spreading on her leg.
It didn’t burn much, not the way she’d always heard about gunshots hurting. She didn’t know if real life was that different from fiction or if she’d only been grazed.
Summer stood, hoping the second was true. She had to hold on to hope, it was all she had.
Hope. How long had it been since she’d used that word, really held on to it and believed it did any good at all?
She pushed her past out of her mind, something she was well practiced in, and did what she always did, but this time with the urgency that her life depended on it. Summer ran.
She heard footsteps behind her, hoped they were Clay’s and assumed since she hadn’t been shot yet that they were.
More gunshots. The big, louder kind. The man after them was still using a rifle, her experiences hunting caribou had taught her the distinct difference in the sound.
Then small caliber shots from right behind her. She glanced back. It was Clay, shooting at a dark shadow of a person maybe thirty yards away—pretty good range for a handgun.
His second shot connected with something. She heard a voice cry out.
“Go!” Clay yelled at her. “He’s down, at least for now.”
He was right behind her, and Summer somehow ran faster than she ever had, down the edges of the creek, toward the Hope Cutoff, careful not to slip on the rocks near the creek. Please don’t let there be bears out tonight, God.
The second prayer that had slipped out since this ordeal had begun just three days ago.
She kept running, the dim twilight of the middle of the Alaskan night giving her just enough light to see by.
“Where do you want to cross?” They’d have to cross in order to reach the road, and at this point there was no more stopping. They’d have to find someone, someplace to make a call and have backup sent. It was all-or-nothing time.
Her heart pounded as she waited for Clay’s answer, and Summer kept running.
“Wh
enever you think it’s best.”
There wasn’t anywhere that was a great option. Alaska rivers and creeks ran cold and fast, and a misstep could cost a healthy adult his or her life. It had happened before, people slipping on the round, smooth rocks, then falling into the cold water and being swept away.
Even if they ever found their way out, hypothermia was quick to set in and was unforgiving.
Still, she and Clay didn’t have a choice. Every chance of help they had was on the other side of Six Mile Creek.
Summer kept running until the topography changed and the solid rock cliffs gradually diminished in size and then faded entirely, giving way to land that was almost flat, leading straight down to the water.
Now or never.
Taking a deep breath and steeling herself against the cold, Summer stepped into the water. It was colder than earlier. Of course, they’d crossed at such a narrow spot earlier that they hadn’t had to stay in the water too long, and the fact that the sun had been fully up in the sky had given them enough warmth to make up for the cold on their feet.
Dry, clean socks. If they made it out of this, that was what Summer wanted, even more than she wanted someone to check on her leg. That was the one advantage to the cold water. It reached high enough to numb the wound.
The water was calmer there than it had been upstream in the rapids, much calmer. Summer was pleasantly surprised at how little they had to fight with the water to hurry across it. Still, she didn’t dare risk slipping by running across, but instead chose her steps carefully.
Two more and she’d be out. She glanced back to make sure Clay was making it. Her eyes widened and she realized her mistake as her foot slipped under her.
Clay caught her by the elbow and held his footing firm as Summer’s stabilized. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, a reminder of how close she’d come to falling, an accident that could have cost her everything.
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
Summer took one more step in the water, then stepped out onto the shore, feeling somehow like that last brief “thank you” had been about more than just rescuing her from her fall. She was thankful to him for everything. For listening. For his protection.
Alaskan Mountain Pursuit Page 30