The man in the chopper was shooting at them.
“Abort. Abort.” The words squawked from the radio, lending a warning much too late.
Kirk grabbed her hand again, yanking them away from the tree. “Run!”
Heart ramming against her ribs, she twisted Abby’s carrier around to her chest and ran as fast as she could, slipping and sliding in the snow. With her free hand, she supported the back of Abby’s neck, praying the jarring motion wouldn’t hurt her, praying she wouldn’t slip and fall on the baby.
Slowing down wasn’t an option. They’d be shot.
At the sound of the chopper circling back, Kirk again found them cover against a tree. His arms closed around her, and his broad chest protected both her and the baby from the scratchy branches. Pepper huddled close to their legs.
“Abby’s okay,” he reassured her.
She looked down, amazed to see that her daughter had slept through all the commotion, except that the baby had been exhausted.
“Will they see our tracks?” she asked him, not bothering to keep her voice down. With the noise from the chopper, she didn’t fear she’d be heard.
“Tracks are harder to see from the air, especially in this gray light. I’m hoping they may not have seen which way we ran, and expect us to run down the mountain.”
Not up. The way he’d steered her to run. No wonder her lungs burned with the effort and her thigh muscles felt as though they’d been worked out on stair-climber equipment. A light sweat coated her skin, but underneath she was cold.
She tensed as the chopper passed directly overhead, the rotors blowing snow into their faces. Kirk shielded them as best he could, shouting into her ear. “Take deep breaths. Be prepared to run as soon as they head down the mountain.”
She did as he instructed. But they couldn’t keep going back up or they’d freeze to death before they got off the mountain. She didn’t care how skilled Kirk was at this survival thing, they had to find a way down. Soon.
But first they had to avoid being shot. When Kirk deemed the chopper had turned far enough down the mountain, they trudged back up. The going slow. Every step an effort. Running in the steep snow was simply beyond her capability.
Kirk half carried, half dragged her back into the forest. He kept the pace brisk for half an hour until she demanded that they stop. Panting, she simply slid to the snow, too tired to speak, too tired to move.
“You did fine,” he told her. “Rest.”
He handed her the canteen and she drank, surprised by her thirst. It took several long minutes to regain her breath, but her sapped energy didn’t return as easily.
“So did Logan turn on us?” she asked when she could again speak.
“He warned us at the last second over the radio. I believe the man is on our side. And that pilot wasn’t Jack Donovan, although that was his chopper.”
“So what do we do now? Contact Logan?”
“We could…”
Sara didn’t like the way Kirk hadn’t finished his sentence. While he might be perfectly comfortable tromping around on the snow-covered mountain being chased by who knew whom, she wanted to take her baby somewhere safe and warm. She wanted to sell her software, get rid of it and resume a normal, predictable life.
Without her saying a word, he seemed to know what she was thinking.
“Let’s not make a hasty decision.”
“What would you do if you were alone?” she asked.
“Find the man who’s hunting us and demand some answers. Then, depending on those answers, I’d probably walk down to base camp.”
Sara didn’t like the hard, almost feral, expression in Kirk’s eyes. She’d always known what he’d done for a living, but she’d never seen this side of him. In danger mode, his eyes gleamed with a fierce protectiveness that should have warned anyone intent on hurting them to back down.
“How far is Logan’s camp?” she asked, summoning a courage she didn’t know she had.
“Too far to start down today. You need a good night’s sleep and food.”
And he didn’t?
Sara shook her head, suddenly too weary to argue. She didn’t want to sleep in a cave or a snow hut or on the ground. She wanted a soft mattress, clean sheets and room service.
And she most certainly didn’t want to spend another night alone with her ex-husband, cooped up beside a fire that he’d provided, eating food he’d supplied. She didn’t want to owe him. Already he’d saved her from hunger and the cold, not to mention flying bullets.
And it appeared she had no choice but to spend another night in his care.
Chapter Eight
Kirk had asked her to go up the mountain for another hour before they traversed sideways over rocky terrain. He’d seemed pleased that they could walk for a long time without leaving tracks in the snow. Sara had just been glad not to have to pick her feet up so high with every step.
But in the open rocky spaces, the wind had ripped into her, eating up more energy reserves as her body fought to stay warm. Kirk had finally taken Abby inside his coat jacket to protect the baby from the chilling wind.
Finally they’d headed back down the mountain, but this time in a new direction. Sara concentrated on staying upright, and, when Kirk finally called a rest, she slumped into the snow exhausted. He handed her the baby, and she barely had the strength to hold and feed Abby.
Kirk built them a shelter out of his tarp, a snowbank and two pines, similar to her original snow hut, only slightly larger. He gathered firewood and started a fire, while she took care of a now-very-awake baby.
Abby, refreshed from sleeping all day, wanted to get down and explore, crawl and play inside the shelter. Sara set her down next to Pepper. As Sara had hoped, Pepper kept Abby away from the flames just as protectively as she’d kept her own pups away from a fireplace in a house Sara and Kirk had once rented.
Kirk was making camp, and Sara knew she should help, but even the thought of shoving back to her feet required too much effort. As if sensing she’d come to the end of her stamina, Kirk crawled into the snow hut and sat beside her.
“How about some pine needle tea?”
He’d gathered handfuls of pine needles, and after melting snow in his pot, he tossed in the needles. A pleasant aroma filled the space. The heat combined with the pleasant scent must have made her nod off.
When she awakened, her head rested in Kirk’s lap. Abby was playing with Pepper, safely away from the fire, and Kirk was holding hot food to her mouth. Without thinking, she parted her lips to eat, suddenly ravenous.
With hunger pangs came the awareness that she shouldn’t have been sleeping at all, never mind with her head resting on Kirk’s muscular thigh. She sat up slowly, still slightly groggy.
“How long did I sleep?”
“A few hours.”
She glanced at the darkened walls and realized the sun had set hours ago.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been that tired in my life.”
“I figured you needed rest more than food, but now it’s time to eat.”
“Thanks.” She took the fork and the hot meal, grateful for the few hours of uninterrupted sleep. As tired as she’d been, she’d never have been able to sleep if she hadn’t known that he’d care for Abby.
Cheeks flushed and healthy-looking, Abby stood next to Pepper, holding onto the dog’s neck, her balance unsteady. “Dog. Dog. Dog.”
“Good girl,” Kirk told her with a proud smile. He must have noticed Sara’s raised eyebrows. “She’s having a fine time and no worse for wear, except—”
“Except what?”
“We’re going to run out of diapers tomorrow.”
“That’s a problem.” Sara ate her food, pleased to see that Kirk was also eating. When he handed her the cup, she tasted his tea, surprised at the pleasant flavor. “It’s good.”
“We need to keep her dry to keep her warm. We’ll have to hike out tomorrow.” Kirk frowned at her. “If you’re up to it.”
“Do I
have a choice?” she muttered, dropping her eyes to her food, uncomfortable with the way his gaze assessed her—with pity and pride. And desire.
She’d been married to the man way too long not to recognize the heat in his eyes. Although, the fact he could find her desirable when she’d been wearing the same clothes for three days and hadn’t once brushed her hair or teeth said more for the strength of the male sex drive than it did about any attractiveness on her part.
“You surprised me today.” He spoke softly, letting his fingers caress hers as he took back the cup and sipped his pine needle tea.
“Why?”
“Because athletes are accustomed to pushing their bodies beyond their normal limits, but you aren’t. Yet you held up well.”
“Every muscle in my body aches.”
His eyes glinted with amusement and banked heat. “Want me to rub them for you?”
The image of his clever hands kneading her muscles almost elicited a groan, but she swallowed back the admission that she found his offer tempting.
“What I want is a hot bath, a cake of soap…and TV.”
He chuckled. “And here I thought you were holding up so well that you didn’t even miss civilization.”
She looked at him sitting cross-legged in front of the fire, the start of a beard shadowing his face. He looked as comfortable as he would have on their living room sofa, not the least aggravated by the cold or the lack of amenities.
“If we weren’t in danger, I’d think you were enjoying yourself.”
“And if we weren’t in danger, you’d be right.” He paused. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t even be talking to me right now.”
“Don’t go there,” she warned him. She might be feeling more human after her nap, but she didn’t have the strength for soul searching. She didn’t want to have to battle her own inclinations as well as him, too. “Tomorrow, are we going to just walk right into camp?”
“And hitch a ride back to Denver on the chopper? Yes.” He answered the question for her, but she sensed he would walk in on his own terms and make his own demands.
While his take-charge attitude might once have bothered her, she felt safe letting him make the decisions until they were back in civilization. Tomorrow wouldn’t be easy. She expected to say goodbye to him, again. And she didn’t feel good about her decision to keep father and daughter apart. In fact, she felt damn guilty.
AFTER THEY BOTH FINISHED EATING, Kirk built up the fire with enough heavy wood to burn through the cold hours of the night. The baby, all tuckered out from her busy day, had fallen asleep next to her new best friend, Pepper. And guided by maternal instinct, the dog curled her body protectively around the child as if guarding her from any possibility of accidentally rolling into the fire.
Kirk sensed a certain softening in Sara’s attitude toward him—not so much from her words, but she seemed less reserved, less on guard. When she scooted onto her back, her hip touching his in the small space, he pillowed his arm under her head.
Eyes wide, she turned her head to look at him, the firelight reflecting confusion on her face. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“What?”
“Our sleeping so close.”
She’d spoken gently and didn’t pull away, obviously conflicted about her feelings. On their first night on the mountain, she’d edged away, determined to not so much as brush against him. Now, she seemed not to know what she wanted, and he took her confusion as a sign that he was making progress.
He didn’t make any comment about sharing body heat. Sara didn’t play those kinds of games. She made up her mind and stuck to her guns.
If he’d had more time, he wouldn’t have pushed his luck. But tomorrow they would return to civilization, and he might never have this opportunity again.
Kirk placed his hand on her shoulder and drew her more firmly against his side.
She sighed. “You never were any good at listening.”
“Not when listening goes against what I want.”
“And what do you want, Kirk?”
“You.”
“Yeah, sure.” Her voice tightened. “For how long will you want me?”
“Forever,” he admitted, hoping he wouldn’t scare her away by his admission of the truth.
“But that won’t be enough to keep you at home when the next mission comes your way. And they always ask for you—because you’re so good at what you do. If you hadn’t found us, Abby and I wouldn’t even be alive right now. So I know I owe you, but that doesn’t mean I want to spend the rest of my life paying you back.”
“Don’t,” he chided.
“Don’t what?”
“Pretend that you’re letting me hold you out of gratitude. I know better.”
“Do you know that you broke my heart?” She could tell her words wounded him as she had meant for them to do, but he didn’t release her. “Do you know I cried myself to sleep every night for a month after our divorce went through? Do you know that you’ve damaged me?”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, damning himself for hurting her so badly, hating the way he could still hear the pain in her voice. He wanted to kiss away her hurt, not knowing if that was possible, not quite daring to try.
“I can’t even look at other men. The manager at the grocery store asked me out. He has a nice, safe job. Comes homes every day. He’s intelligent and healthy, and all I could think was that he wasn’t you. And if you say good, I’m going to slap you,” she warned.
“Good.” He grinned and lazily waited for her raised hand, took enjoyment in capturing her wrist and drawing her onto his chest.
“You don’t have to look so satisfied,” she muttered, scowling. “I’m still angry with you.”
“I know.”
Her eyes narrowed in speculation and then she sighed. “There’s really only one good way to shut you up.”
He held his breath.
She dipped her head and kissed him, not the least bit hesitantly. Her mouth crushed against his, claiming him, branding him, and he reciprocated eagerly. Sara didn’t bother with fancy technique; she thrust her tongue into his mouth, demanding, taking, searching.
He’d forgotten how she could go from zero to sixty in less than a heartbeat. He’d forgotten how she put her entire body into a kiss. As usual, once she made up her mind, she didn’t hold back. She went top speed, so that a man could barely keep up with her shifts in desire.
But his body remembered, responding immediately to her familiar scent and taste. His pulse rate ignited, his blood burning with powerful needs that hadn’t been satisfied in too long. All the blood in his body went south, until his arousal pressed tightly into the seam of his jeans.
His need was as strong as the wind blowing outside and just as elemental. So when she pulled back, breathless, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glazed with desire and a hint of regret, he had to muster every ounce of control not to draw her back down again.
“I just wanted you to know how much I missed you,” she explained. “Our kiss changes nothing.”
“Some men would call you a tease.”
“But you know me better than that. If I could have held you with my body and sex, we wouldn’t have gotten divorced.”
She might as well have kicked him in the balls. That she could make the admission so bravely, facing her fears and presumed inadequacies so squarely, made him curse. “You act as though I wanted to leave you.”
But he had had a choice and he’d made the wrong one. He could have quit the work that had taken him away from her, that had left her with too many lonely hours contemplating the danger he walked into every day. To give her credit, she didn’t say a word. She just shot him that you-know-better look and rolled onto her side, her back to him.
Conversation over.
Marriage over.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
He ached to reach out to her, smooth her hair from her forehead and reassure her that he’d changed. He knew now that he should have put Sara first. He no longer fel
t as though he alone had to stop the next terrorist attack. With maturity earned the hard way, he had come to the realization that others could fill his shoes, maybe not as well, but they would learn as he had. Kirk had given enough, had served his country honorably and well, and now he was entitled to enjoy some peace.
Sara’s leaving had created a gaping hole inside him that a new mission couldn’t fill.
And when he realized what he’d lost, he’d turned to her too late. He’d hurt her so badly that she was afraid to give him the trust she’d once offered.
Kirk stared into the fire, his mind seething with could-haves, should-haves and would-haves. He couldn’t go back and undo the past. He could only go forward and vow not to repeat his mistakes.
Beside him, Sara’s breath rose and fell evenly, but from her tensed shoulders, he could tell that she hadn’t fallen asleep. Lost in her own thoughts, she’d shut him out yet again.
The wind outside still howled, but he heard nothing alarming. Pepper suddenly raised her head, her ears high. The animal’s hearing was sixty times more acute than a man’s. Did she hear a wild animal? The chopper returning?
Or had the other man on the mountain followed his nose to their campfire?
SARA HEARD KIRK SCOOT through the snow hut’s entrance and figured he needed to answer a call of nature. Softly, he ordered Pepper to stay, before disappearing into the night.
The dog whined, obeying the command but clearly not happy at being left behind. The moment Kirk vanished, Sara expected Pepper to rest her chin back down on her paws. But she kept her head and ears up, staring anxiously after Kirk.
Sara sat up and scratched Pepper behind the ears. “What is it, girl?”
She’d been around Kirk and his animals long enough to know that the dogs had acute senses well beyond the range of human beings. They also displayed fearless loyalty, often risking their own lives to save their two-legged counterparts.
Pepper didn’t stand, but her gaze went from Sara back to where Kirk had departed. The few other times he’d left the animal behind, Pepper hadn’t appeared this concerned. Her big brown eyes seemed to be begging Sara to follow Kirk out into the darkness.
Daddy to the Rescue Page 10