Eliza screamed as the Buick plowed straight toward a thicket of trees, bouncing over rutted and uneven earth, snow pelting the windshield like falling rocks.
But so far, he was remembering the curves and the breaks, same as he’d walked them that night, boots sinking into the mud, a symphony of pissed-off moo’s filling the wet woods behind him. Only now it was Eliza’s terrified screams behind him. They were a lot louder.
A tree took off the driver’s side mirror.
Eliza went silent. He figured she’d pressed her face to the floor of the backseat so she wouldn’t have to see the chaos just outside the Buick’s windows.
At least there was no more gunfire. The bastards were following them for sure. But trying to navigate the thick woods had taken the confidence out of them.
Danny knew there was a sharp uphill climb just ahead. The bastards on his tail didn’t. He gave the Buick the gas he knew it needed to mount the sudden slope. Then he turned to the left about forty-five degrees, aiming for the next break in the trees. It was a two-fold maneuver he accomplished in the nick of time.
Unfamiliar with the landscape, his pursuers would fumble one of those moves. He was counting on it.
The passenger side of the car dragged along an aspen trunk with a sound like God’s fingernails on a chalkboard. Still, he’d given the Buick enough power to start the climb and they were speeding uphill now.
Just as he’d hoped, the SUV wasn’t so lucky.
Through swirling snow, he saw their headlights lurch as they hit the slope without enough speed.
He wanted to gloat, but he had to keep his focus on the woods in front of him.
The path uphill was snaky at best.
After another few minutes, there was still no sign of the Explorer.
The snow was too thick now to see all the way to the base of the hill.
But by God, it looked like they’d really lost them. Maybe the Explorer’s 4-wheel drive had crapped out or maybe it didn’t have it to begin with. Or maybe one of the sharp uphill bends had taken them out, but it didn’t matter, because they needed to keep—
The Buick’s nose slammed into an aspen trunk.
The car came to a dead stop and Eliza hit the back of the driver’s seat.
When he looked up, he saw branches and icy leaves filling the windshield.
“You okay?” he shouted.
“Define okay.”
“Can you run?”
“Yeah, I can run. Are they still coming?”
“I don’t see ‘em. But we still need to run.”
He could only open the driver’s side door a foot or two. He’d been so busy savoring his temporary victory he’d driven them straight into a prison of branches.
Eliza fought her way out of the backseat and into his arms. Then he was clawing their way out. Her bandaged hand kept her from helping, so she held on to the back of his pants with her good hand and rested the other one against his shoulder.
“So much for running,” she said.
“The Flynns have a hunting cabin up ahead.”
“How do you know? How can you even tell where we are?”
“Some ranchers lost some steers out here in a big rainstorm a few weeks ago. They were all up and down this hill and we had to rope ‘em and bring them to the highway one at a time. We used one of the Flynns’ cabins as a base of operations.”
“Does it have a phone?”
“No, but it’s got some wood and a wood stove we can use to keep warm until this blows over.”
“And what about them?” she asked.
The brush cleared up suddenly, which meant he could stop grabbing at icy branches with his bare hands.
She looked behind them. Just a dark slope filled with thick veils of snow.
No headlights, no gunfire. No sound of anyone clawing through the woods after them. Although with the way the wind was howling now, they wouldn’t have heard the approach of anything smaller than a C-130.
When her eyes met his, there was pure, unguarded fear in them. Despite the bitter cold, despite his stinging hands, he could only feel one thing—his desire to take her fear away. Right then, right there. For all time.
“Danny, what happens if they find us out here?”
He took her face in both hands and spoke before he could measure his words.
“Then I’m going to have to kill those sons of bitches.”
He wasn’t sure if it was the life going out of her or the fight. The latter wouldn’t be so bad. Acceptance, in this type of situation, was a good thing. Acceptance didn’t always mean rolling onto your back and letting life roll over you like an eighteen-wheeler. It meant admitting you’d been pushed to that dangerous place where the only choice left was to draw your weapon.
And he certainly didn’t mind having her in his arms. It helped him to breathe. And breathing was important, even when you were running for your life, even when you were haloed by snow that stung your neck, face, and hands.
“Let’s go,” she finally said, with a newfound authority in her voice.
5
“Wait!” Eliza cried.
Danny had just pulled some firewood off the stack in one corner of the hunting cabin.
“A fire? Really? They’ll see the smoke.”
“Not in these winds,” he answered. “And we’ll freeze to death without it.”
“Are you sure?”
“On both counts,” he said. “Trust me.”
Oh, how she wanted to. But as soon as they’d reached the cabin, her only recurring thought was, We’re going to die here. Starved, shot, or frozen to death. One of those would do the trick, for sure.
She shivered fiercely.
If Danny couldn’t get a fire started, they’d probably have to wear her coat in shifts.
Back at the ranch she’d been crying so hard when they first stepped inside, she’d neglected to take the thing off. That was the only reason she’d still been wearing it when the gunfire started. No such luck for Danny. His fur-lined jacket was still there, probably lying in a ball on the kitchen floor where it was laced with paint dust and other debris.
“Time to worry about the fire will be when the storm dies down and the wind stops dispersing the smoke,” he said.
Her pulse slowed when he found a box of matches under the wood stove.
“By then, we’ll be out of here, I promise. Coop’s already looking for us, I’m sure.”
“How’s that?” she asked, rubbing the sides of her crossed arms.
“He wasn’t pleased when I told him I was headed to your place. He said make it quick. When it’s not quick and I don’t answer his radio call, he’ll strike out looking for me if only to beat my ass into the snow.”
“Not even Cooper MacKenzie could get far in this storm. Neither will a search party.”
“Yeah, and neither will the assholes who tried to kill us.”
“I hope so.”
The cabin was just a single room with a stack of firewood and a wood stove against one wall. A sheet of plywood slid easily into place inside over the single window, the first thing Danny had tended to once they stepped inside out of the blowing snow.
The door had been secured by a padlock when they arrived, but Danny knew the code from when he’d used this cabin for his rain-drenched cattle roundup, which, to be perfectly frank, sounded like a beach vacation compared to what they were going through now. Now the padlock was on the inside latch, and the sight of it comforted her each time she imagined bullets punching through the walls.
If the storm had been giving the Laughlin Place hell, it was giving this little cabin hell and then some. But each time the walls shook from the howling wind, Eliza felt an ironic burst of comfort, because it meant the storm was either threatening the lives of the men who’d tried to kill them or driving them farther away.
Preferably, both.
But still, fear kept coming in waves that made her pace and rub her hands together.
“God, I could just strang
le you for leaving your radio in the car,” she said before she could stop herself.
“If that’s your thing, go right ahead.”
He was using some half-burned newspaper in the stove for kindling, but it wasn’t enough.
“Don’t be flip,” she said.
“Honestly, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll let you put your hands around my throat and we can play act, or role-play, or whatever you Californians call it.”
“You could have just left it clipped to your belt and turned it off. “
“I could have.” The first straining flames fought backdrafts through the chimney pipe. Danny reached into his pocket, pulled out a switchblade, and used it shave slender splinters from one of the pieces of wood stacked in the corner.
“But it wasn’t just about the noise, was it?” she asked.
Why was she beating him up like this? Because she was frightened and freezing and terrified they’d never get out of this cabin alive.
“It was about appearances too, wasn’t it? No radio on your belt means it’s just a casual visit, right? An old student dropping in on his teacher, right? When really you knew I was up to something and you were trying to catch me and––”
Danny shot to his feet. Behind him, fire bloomed inside the stove, filling the cabin with flickering orange light.
“I didn’t think you were up to something,” he said. “I thought you were in trouble and I wanted to help. And yeah, maybe part of the reason I drove out to your place is because when I saw you at Rawley’s my heart damn near stopped and I felt like I was fifteen years old again and staring up at the smartest and most beautiful woman I’d ever met. And you want to know why I felt that way? ‘Cause it’s eight years later and you’re still the smartest and most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.
“So yeah, I took the radio off because I didn’t want you to see Danny the cop. I wanted you to see Danny the man. Danny who wasn’t a boy anymore. Honestly, if I’d had my druthers, I would have gone home and changed into civilian clothes, but I didn’t have time with this damn storm. And I could tell you were scared out of your mind so I didn’t want to waste any. Okay?”
“Oh, Danny,” she managed.
“Look, I know you’re still scared, and I know this isn’t over yet. But don’t put bad motives in my head ‘cause you think it’ll make me easier to control. I’m not easy to control, Eliza. Not when it comes to you. Just ask Cooper MacKenzie.”
“I’m sorry. You saved my life and I was talking to you like you…Like you…”
Amazing that he took her in his arms after the way she’d just spoken to him. Lance would turn tail and run from any sign of her anger and fear. But Danny guided her to one wall, and within seconds, they were sitting on the floor together, his arm curved around her back, sharing in each other’s warmth.
“How many bullets do you have left?” she finally asked.
“Enough to take down two tourists who’ve got too much confidence and shitty aim,” he said.
Sitting forward slightly, he pulled his gun from the holster and set it sideways on the floor next to his feet, handle pointed toward him.
“So you think it’s just two guys?” she asked.
“Saw ‘em in the car. One was driving, passenger had a handgun.”
“Who are they?” she asked. “You think they’re the same guys who have Lance?”
“Or they work with ‘em.”
“But why start shooting at us like that?”
“My guess is they found the hole and figured you’d made off with the money.”
“Which meant they knew the money was there in the first place.”
“Yeah, that part’s harder to figure,” he said, and his voice made it sound like he was trying to figure it out even as they spoke.
“Not if they killed Lance it isn’t,” she countered.
“Don’t go there yet.”
“Okay. But still… If they thought I was trying to steal the money, why not sneak up on us and take the bag from us at gunpoint? Why start firing like they’re trying to mow down a bunch of walkers?”
“I don’t know, but everything about it says fear. Not just fear. Panic.”
“And dumb,” she said quietly.
“That too.”
She smiled even though he couldn’t see it, what with her face pressed to his chest.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For getting you involved in this.”
“Got myself involved.”
“Still…”
“That’s right. Just be still. Try to relax.”
“Now who’s the teacher?” she said quietly.
She felt his fingers twine gently through her hair. He stroked her head tentatively at first, and then, once she snuggled more into his body, tenderly.
“Danny?”
“Yes.”
“That part about me not being an idiot. Say it again, if you don’t mind.”
“I’ll say it as many times as you like. You’re an amazing woman, always have been. You just take too much responsibility for other people’s weaknesses, that’s all.”
“I guess that’s true,” she said. “But I’ve never been quite sure how to love people otherwise.”
“Well, you’ve got plenty of time to learn. Everyone does until they’re, you know…”
“Dead?” she asked him.
“I was trying to find a different way to put it given the circumstances but… Too late, I guess.”
“I appreciate the effort.”
“We’re not going anywhere, anytime soon. Less it’s to the sheriff’s station once this storm blows over. Promise.”
“Thank you for promising. Even if it’s not true.”
“It is true,” he said. “I always keep my promises.”
“How many shootouts have you fought your way out of?”
“I’m doing pretty good tonight, aren’t I?”
“You are. I just… I don’t want you to feel like you have to save me.”
“But see, I do, Eliza. I do have to save you. Part of me feels like I was born to.”
She took his hand in hers, holding it gently against her chest.
For a while they lay there in silence, listening to the storm’s fury. With each minute that passed without a gunshot or any other signs of human life outside, her heart rate slowed, and her fear felt more like an idea than an affliction.
Soon, the idea that they were still in mortal danger was competing for headspace with the feel of Danny’s fingers as he gently stroked her forehead, the warmth of him beneath her and the fire’s welcoming glow.
She remembered blizzards like this when she was a girl. Massive, world-ending things that brought life outside to a complete halt. If those killers were still struggling through the woods, frostbite would already be going to work on them, she was sure of it.
Of course, there was the terrible possibility they’d managed to drive up the rest of the slope and follow their footprints to the cabin. But if that was the case, they would be shooting up the door by now, and the idea of them staking out the house in this weather was absurd; they’d barely be able to stand upright in these winds, much less survive the night.
Between his body heat and the spreading warmth from the stove, her own jacket had become unnecessary.
When she sat up, he gave her a startled look. There was fear in his expression, not a fear of being murdered in this cabin, a fear of losing her touch for good. Then, as she slid her arms free from her jacket, one after the other, his eyes glazed over, as if this casual disrobing were as charged and intimate as stripping down to her underwear.
No man had ever looked at her quite this way. She wanted to call the look protective and vulnerable, but that wasn’t quite it. If she was reading him right, what frightened him was the idea that she might not let him protect her.
It had been a very long time since a man had worked this hard to keep her safe. For four years, she’d been the bre
adwinner, the rock, the voice of reason. And before that, the teacher, the surrogate parent, the counselor. Now she was…she didn’t know what exactly, but she liked the way it felt. A lot.
“You going somewhere?” he finally asked her.
“No,” she answered.
“Good. ‘Cause that wouldn’t be safe.”
Just then, his hand found the side of her face, a gentle, hesitant touch. A touch that reached across years of memories and old versions of themselves.
“That wouldn’t be safe at all,” he whispered.
She could feel his fingers right at the edge of her lips. Before she could think twice, she turned her head just enough to give them a kiss. He closed his eyes. The air between them seemed to vibrate. Her heart raced from a new emotion that made the fear of the past few hours seem like a distant memory: desire.
“Do you have any idea the things I’d do to you if I didn’t have to watch that door?” he said.
She responded by taking one of his fingertips gently between her teeth, then she gave it a light squeeze.
“I believe when I was your teacher I always encouraged you to give specific, concrete examples,” she whispered.
“Oh, I can’t even get started. ‘Cause if I do, the only thing that’ll exist for me in the world is what I want to do to your body. And right now, I gotta keep you safe.”
“I understand,” she whispered. “I guess there’s a perfect time for everything.”
“There’s never a perfect time for anything. Some times are just better than others to try for perfection. And with you, Eliza, that’s exactly what I’d try for. Perfection.”
Control yourself, Eliza. He’s right. This isn’t the time.
“You always were such a nice boy,” she said.
So much for controlling myself, she thought. I sound like a porn star.
“And once I have you all to myself I’m gonna show just how nice a boy I can be.”
Just one kiss.
That was all.
She’d just give him one little kiss. Something to warm them, distract them and tide them over until they could be alone with all these explosive new feelings.
The next thing she knew she was on her back, their mouths locked, tongues finding their mutual rhythm. The thoughts flying through her head told her this was stupid, wrong. So what if he wasn’t her student anymore, hadn’t been for years.
Desire & Ice: A MacKenzie Family Novella (The MacKenzie Family) Page 4