“Shh!” he rasped against her ear. Shep had dragged her against him and located a large pine tree to hide behind. Maggie felt so warm and soft against him. He felt her fingers digging convulsively into his shirt and chest as he guided her down between his opened legs. They crouched together, using the tree as a natural cover and support, protecting them from prying, unseen eyes.
Bringing his other arm around her, and making sure the pistol was pointed away, he embraced her closely and just held her. She was trembling badly and shivering from cold and shock. Pressing kiss after kiss against her wet hair, ear and cheek, he whispered harshly. “It’s going to be okay, Maggie. Lord, I thought you were dead. I thought the worst…. I’m so glad you’re alive, so glad….” He was blinded momentarily by a wave of emotion surging up through him as Maggie’s hands moved around his neck. When she raised her chin, however, he saw the terror, the need, in her haunted hazel eyes. Shep would do anything to ease the fear from Maggie’s eyes. Leaning down, he groaned her name and put the pistol aside. In one movement, he framed the cool, wet skin of her face, and kissed her. As his mouth closed over hers he felt her quiver beneath his warm, exploratory onslaught. Their mouths met hungrily. Almost violently. She tasted warm and alive. She tasted of life. He could feel her shivering in his arms, her mouth eagerly taking his and returning his wild, unexpected kisses with equal ferocity and need. Maggie was here! In his arms! She felt so damned good in his arms, like a wet, trembling puppy ecstatic at seeing his favorite human once again.
Tearing his mouth from hers, Hunter gazed deep into her tear-filled eyes. She looked so helpless in that moment, but Shep knew differently. With shaking fingers, he tried to wipe some of the rain away from her forehead and cheek. It was then that he realized she was crying. Probably out of sheer relief that she had not been abandoned by him, after all.
“How—” Maggie sobbed. She slid her hands over his face, the prickle of his beard feeling wonderful to her chilled fingers. “How did you find me?” Her voice cracked again, and she couldn’t help sobbing openly. The sense of relief was profound within her. “I didn’t think anyone would find me….”
Gently, he smoothed the rainwater from her flushed cheek. “I wouldn’t stop until I did, brat. Not ever…” His deep voice shook with emotion. Picking up the pistol, Shep angled his back against the tree. For a moment they were safe. They were talking low, and the rain, wind and thunder would certainly hide their whisper as they huddled for warmth in one another’s arms. Absorbing her presence, his long, powerful thighs like brackets supporting Maggie in the downpour, he felt some of his guilt dissolving.
Choking back her tears, Maggie pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “Just hold me, Shep! Oh…just hold me. I’m so tired…so weak….” But he was feeding her with his incredible strength, she knew. Just being able to cling to Shep as the darkness fell was wonderful. The way he soothed his hand across her shaking shoulders made her feel hope. Finally, after a few minutes, Maggie lifted her head and looked up at his dark, familiar features. Though he held her closely, his gaze was darting alertly around them. She felt tension sizzling through his body and knew he was doing what he did best as a mercenary. Never had Maggie felt as safe, as protected, as now.
“How…” She managed to croak, her fingers sliding against his hard jawline. “How did you find me?”
He glanced down at her for just a moment before continuing to scan the forest. No place was safe as long as those three Black Dawn members were hunting them. “A lot of luck. A woman going to her car in the garage at the villa saw you being taken away by two men. She described the van. We got a real break when we found out there’s a highway camera at the bridge leaving Hilton Head. The security guard ran the video back, and we got the van’s make and license plate number.”
Amazed, Maggie sank more deeply against him. She felt Shep take her full weight. How good it was to be held by him! “And you followed us?”
He smiled grimly. “I rented a plane from the island airport and flew north. A highway patrolman saw the van and reported it. I flew north following I-95, until I found you.”
Her eyes widened. “You were in a plane? In this storm?”
His mouth flexed. “I landed that sucker on the highway a quarter of a mile from where the van’s parked.”
Amazed, Maggie stared up at him. “That must have been right after I escaped! Did they shoot at you?”
Tightening his arm around her, Shep kissed her cheek. Very slowly, the storm was moving to the east. The rain was lessening, too. His lips near her ear, he said, “No. There was one man in the van, just sitting there. I used the rain as cover to leave the Cessna and make a run for the woods.”
“Oh…” Maggie sighed and closed her eyes. “I brained him with a piece of pipe. His name is Alex Romanov, Shep. I knocked him out and escaped out the back of the van. There was a whole bunch of cows on the road. That’s why we stopped. Bruce Tennyson and a Brazilian soldier named Juan left the van to shoo them off the road. I took a chance….” Maggie shivered violently at the memory of her bold escape. Pressing her face against his damp clothing, she sobbed, “I was so scared…. I knew if they caught me, they’d kill me. Tennyson’s a fanatic. I lulled him into thinking I’d join Black Dawn. That’s why he took the handcuffs off me. I had to take a chance to get away when we got stopped by the cows.” Opening her eyes, Maggie looked up at him. “I’ve never been so scared in all my life, Shep. This made event riding look like pabulum in comparison. I was sure they’d find me and shoot me.”
Grimly, he grazed her wet hair with his fingers. “You’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met, brat. There’s not many that would have risked what you did.”
Sniffing, Maggie wiped her nose and tried again to remove the tears from her eyes. “I just kept thinking, Shep…remembering the kiss we shared in Savannah, remembering all the good times we had together…and I didn’t want to die. Tennyson is planning to meet another contingent of Black Dawn in Charleston, at a place known as the Kemper Plantation. And then we were all going to board a plane at the airport and fly to Albania. There are ten other Black Dawn members waiting for Tennyson to get to Charleston.”
Nodding, Shep smiled warmly down at her as he slid his hand behind her head. “Maggie, what we have together, as flawed as it is, is good. You just hold on to that, okay? I’ll get us out of this or die trying.”
Trembling, Maggie absorbed his tender touch and the undisguised warmth and love she saw glittering in his narrowed eyes. Love! Yes. She wasn’t going to lie to herself any longer about how she felt toward Shep—had always felt but had denied it—until now. Gulping, Maggie whispered, “We’ve got to get out of this jam, Shep. I want a second chance with you. You hear me?”
His mouth twitched in a bare smile. “Brat, you’re my life. No matter what happens from here on out, we’re going to work as a good team. I’m going to try and listen to you and not just take over like I usually do. I’ve learned my lesson. Okay?”
How wonderful those words sounded to Maggie! Jerkily, she nodded. The evening was cool in the wake of the storms and she shivered every now and then even though she was in Shep’s powerful and protective embrace. “You’re probably mad as hell at me for opening that door to the villa,” she whispered apologetically. In bits and pieces, she told him what had happened. She saw Shep’s brows move up in surprise.
“They had the code?”
“Yes!” Maggie whispered fiercely. “Believe me, that’s the only reason I opened that door, Shep! Tennyson said there was a mole in the FBI feeding them information. That’s how they got their hands on the password.”
Shep cursed softly. He moved slightly, his legs starting to grow numb. “Preston needs to know this,” he muttered darkly.
“How? I mean, we’re literally out in the middle of nowhere here, Shep.”
“Not quite, brat. When I was flying in to land on the highway, I spotted a dairy farm off to the right, about a mile from here. It’s on the other side of the road where they parked the v
an. I hate to involve the locals in this mission but we haven’t much choice. If we could get to the farmhouse, I could make the necessary calls.”
“But…what about Black Dawn? How are we going to get across that road?”
Easing upward and taking Maggie with him, Hunter rasped, “Very carefully.” Pushing against the tree, he stretched to his full height. Maggie seemed diminutive against him, yet she had the heart of a courageous fighter. How many other women would have done what she had to escape? “Maggie the Lionhearted,” he whispered in her ear. “Come on, let’s go. Follow me closely. Keep your hand on my waist belt, okay? If I suddenly drop to my knees you drop too. Understand? And if you hear something, jerk on my belt and we’ll go hit the deck together. This storm is moving on. Pretty soon it’s going to be very quiet, and that’s when they’ll hear us moving around.”
Her heart beginning to beat hard with fear once more, Maggie nodded. But she also felt a warm glow at Shep including her, asking for her help on this mission. Now they were really a team. The words I love you were almost torn from her lips as she wrapped her fingers around his belt.
Shep had been right. Within minutes, the storm moved toward the coast. In its wake the darkness was so thick they had to move slowly from tree to tree, their hands outstretched to find the next one. More than once Maggie tripped over unseen rocks and stumps. Her grip on Shep’s belt stopped her from pitching onto her nose. He kept his stride short for her sake. She was amazed at how silently he moved. His body seemed boneless in comparison to her awkward, stumbling movements. Maggie tried to tell herself that he was used to such danger and had overridden the adrenaline rush to think clearly. She hadn’t.
From time to time, she heard Tennyson’s voice echoing eerily through the woods. And each time, they’d drop to their knees and wait. Each time, Tennyson’s furious voice seemed to come from the river. As they neared the highway, Maggie heard Alex’s thick Russian accent calling out for Tennyson. She and Shep both froze, slowly kneeling on the wet needles. Frightened, Maggie realized suddenly how close they’d come to the van! Gulping, she tried to get a grip on her escaping terror. Her night vision had adjusted now, and she could just make out the outline of the van against the dark specter of pine trees on the other side of the highway. When she saw the stabbing beam of a flashlight, she froze. Her breath jammed her lungs.
Shep gripped her hand and pulled her up. “Come on!” He saw the man with the flashlight heading away from the van toward the river. Now was their chance to cross the road!
Surprised, Maggie was wrenched upward. She hurried to keep up with Shep’s lengthening stride. He was going to cross the highway in plain view of Alex! Was he nuts? She didn’t have time to ask. They ran hard, down the slope to the berm and then quickly across the wet asphalt. On the other side, Shep led her to the break in the fence the cows had made earlier.
Gasping, her heart wildly pounding in her chest, Maggie felt herself pulled up the slight incline. They were once more inside the relative safety of the pines. Good! Her terror subsided a little as they slowed their pace. With night vision, now, they could see the silhouettes of trees so they wouldn’t run into them. Shep kept his hand wrapped tightly around hers. Within minutes, they broke out of the pines into a meadow, where the dairy cows were contentedly munching grass or lying down for the night.
“There!” Maggie gasped, and pointed to their left. “Lights!”
Shep halted. He was breathing easily, but he heard Maggie’s noisy gasping and knew he had to wait and let her catch her breath. Taking her in his arms, he realized they were targets standing out in the middle of the grassy meadow. “That’s the farmhouse,” he told her raggedly. Giving her a gentle squeeze, he said, “Can you walk? We’ve got to keep moving.”
Nodding, Maggie absorbed strength and warmth from his embrace. “Yes, let’s go….”
Sometimes they walked through the short, wet grass and sometimes they jogged. Maggie kept staring at the lights of the farmhouse in the distance. It appeared so far away! A mile? Or more? She often glanced across her shoulder as they moved silently from one pasture to the next. Each was rectangular and fenced off with white board fencing. They would crawl beneath the lowest board to avoid detection. The cows would lift their heads, stare at them and then return to eating, as if they instinctly knew Maggie and Shep did not pose a threat to them.
The farmhouse was on a knoll surrounded by stately, ancient live oaks. As they hurried up the graveled roadway, a dog began barking. Maggie’s heart thudded with fear. She felt Shep’s hand tighten momentarily around hers to reassure her. When the front door of the house opened, Maggie saw a man with silver hair come out and look in their direction. The dog at his side appeared to be a collie. It was barking nonstop.
Shep mounted the steps of the porch and halted in front of the man, who appeared to be in his sixties. He had a pinched face, weathered by outdoor life and hard work. Dressed in a pair of coveralls, his spectacles resting low on his narrow nose, he put his hand on the dog to silence her.
“What do you want, stranger?” the old man demanded.
Shep had already put his pistol away because he didn’t want to frighten the man. “I’m Shep Hunter. I work for the FBI.” He drew out his badge case and held it up for the man to appraise. “We’re in urgent need of a phone. May we come in and use one?”
“Elmer?”
The woman’s voice drifted out the opened door. Maggie moved to Shep’s side.
“Eh? Oh, it’s some police people out here, Trudy….” Handing the badge case back to Shep, he asked, “There’s trouble out there?”
Shep nodded. “Yes. We won’t stay long. We just need a phone, Mr….?”
“Elmer Hawkins.” He turned to his wife, a thin woman with short gray hair, wearing jeans and sweatshirt. “This is my wife, Trudy. Trudy, let ’em in. These young folks are in trouble. They need the use of our phone.”
Shep nodded his thanks as the farmer told them to follow him. Standing out on the porch made them all targets. He breathed a little easier when the door closed behind them.
Trudy clucked her tongue. “Ya’ll are soaked like a bunch of river rats.” She smiled warmly and said, “Come on, come to the kitchen. Let me get you something warm to drink?”
“No, ma’am…. Thanks, but I need to get to a phone,” Shep said.
Trudy pointed off to the right of the shining cedar foyer. “Right in there, in the living room, on the lamp table next to the couch.” She turned her attention to Maggie. “You look cold to the bone. Let me get you a coat?”
Maggie smiled weakly. She had wrapped her arms around herself, but her teeth chattered no matter what she did to stop them. She knew she was slightly hypothermic. “Yes. That would be wonderful, Mrs. Hawkins. Thanks so much….”
“Go join him,” Elmer said. “Trudy, I’ll get these young people some dry jackets. You go make ’em some hot tea. This ain’t a night fit for man or beast.”
Grateful beyond words, Maggie walked quietly into the old, antique-filled living room. The furniture was all Victorian. Fresh flowers sat on a sideboy. The television was turned to a game show, but the sound was muted. Shep was using the phone, his voice low as he spoke intently to the person on the other end. Maggie didn’t want to sit down on the furniture, upholstered in a lovely floral fabric, and get it sopping wet. No matter where she walked, she was leaving footprints. Her shoes were soaked. Shivering, she stood close to Shep and listened to him talk to Preston.
Elmer came back first. “Here,” he told her in a whisper, “put this on. This is Trudy’s warmest jacket.”
“Oh, thank you,” Maggie said with a broken smile. It was a fleece-lined, dark-blue garment with a waterproof outer shell. The moment she shrugged into it, she felt a modicum of returning warmth. Elmer put a black, rainproof jacket over the couch near where Shep stood talking.
“Here you go, my dear,” Trudy said quietly as she brought in a tray holding two mugs of hot, steaming tea. “I put a little honey in i
t for ya’ll. Hope you don’t mind,” she set the tray on the coffee table. Picking up the rose-colored mug, she handed it to Maggie.
“Thanks so much,” Maggie whispered, sliding her icy fingers around the warm, sleek surface of the mug. “You have no idea how wonderful this feels to me.” Her teeth had stopped chattering now and she blew across the surface of the steaming, gold-colored tea to cool it a little. Sipping it, she felt fingers of warmth stealing down her throat and loosening the tightness in her stomach. The tea was herbal, and the sweetness made her smile. “This is wonderful,” she told Trudy gratefully.
Pleased, Trudy touched her short, gray hair with pride. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe, you know. Chamomile with hops. You look a little shaken, dear. I thought a tea that would soothe your nerves was in order.”
Laughing softly, more out of relief than anything else, Maggie felt some of the terror leaking away with each sip of the tea. “You’re so sweet, Mrs. Hawkins. Letting us come in, two strangers out of the dark of the night…that’s so very kind of you.”
She nodded and fussed over Maggie, saying, “You’re going to catch your death of cold, my child.” She touched Maggie’s limp, wet hair. “Can you stay here?”
“No,” Shep said in a growl as he placed the phone back into the cradle. He glanced apologetically at the farm couple. “We need to keep moving.”
Shep saw the terror in Maggie’s eyes return as she gripped the mug to her breast, her hands wrapped tightly around it. Picking up his own mug, he sipped the hot tea with relish. “All the law enforcement authorities have been alerted,” he told Maggie. Then, turning to the couple, he continued, “What I need now, Mr. Hawkins, if you’ve got it, is a vehicle and a cell phone. We need to get out of here and head toward Charleston. Do you have a car we could borrow?”
Trudy smiled and slid her arm around her husband’s waist. “Why, we have a truck you could use, Mr. Hunter. Would that do?”
“Anything will do,” he assured them fervently. “And if there’s any damage to it while we use it, the government will pick up the tab for any repairs.”
The Untamed Hunter Page 12