Deadly Mountain Refuge: Mountain Ambush ; Mountain Hideaway

by Christy Barritt

  Before she could contemplate her options, Trent swept her up in his arms and began walking. Apparently they were wasting too much time and had to move.

  “I can’t...ask you...to do this,” Tessa said, her face still scrunched with discomfort.

  “You didn’t ask. I just did it.”

  * * *

  Trent had been trained to travel in these conditions. He’d fought in Afghanistan—in both the dry and arid deserts and in the frigid mountains. Tessa hadn’t.

  Her strength was fading, and fast. He had to hurry.

  At the moment, she seemed to melt in his arms. Her head flopped against his shoulder. Her lips were pressed into a tight line.

  “We’re going to be just fine, Tessa,” he murmured.

  “I can’t ask you to do this,” she whispered.

  “Like I said, you didn’t. I once carried one of my comrades in arms five miles up a mountain toward help,” he told her, trying to keep her talking. “He weighed twice as much as you.”

  “What happened?”

  “Roadside bomb. He got hit. I didn’t. Our vehicle was destroyed. If we were going to get out of that village, we had to walk.”

  “I guess you escaped?”

  “We did. My friend is doing just fine today, you’ll be glad to know. Just like you’ll look back one day and realize how crazy all of this was. It will be in the past tense. You’ll move on.” As he said the words, his heart lurched. Why did it bother him to think about her moving on one day? He had to put those thoughts out of his head.

  “I hope so,” she whispered.

  He pushed forward, breathing easier once he knew he’d crossed the bridge. The lodge should just be a little farther up this road. Once there, maybe Tessa could get warm. He’d look for a first-aid kit. Maybe start a fire.

  When Trent had seen her go off that bridge, his heart had dropped. He couldn’t let Tessa die. He’d sacrifice himself if he had to. He’d feared he wouldn’t be able to pull her from where she dangled.

  But when he’d seen the absolute fear in her eyes, he knew he had to do everything within his power to do so. Leveraging himself while trying to reach her had been a struggle, but by God’s grace he’d done it.

  He continued to push forward, step by step. Slowly, the lodge got closer.

  He glanced down at Tessa and saw her eyes had closed.

  “Tessa,” he called.

  There was no response.

  He shook her slightly. “Tessa.”

  She moaned.

  This wasn’t good. Trent had to get her somewhere warm, somewhere he could properly bandage her wound. They’d made it this far—he couldn’t give up now.

  Just ahead, during a break between snow gusts, another sign appeared—Snow Current. The insignia didn’t have a “distance ahead” designation. No, it was a welcome sign.

  They were here! They were at the lodge. Now he just needed to find a building to give them shelter.

  He had no time to waste.

  The snowstorm eased. He wasn’t sure how long the interruption would last, but he was grateful for it. Maybe it would give him just enough time to find shelter.

  Ahead, he saw a large lodge-like building. That was where they would go. It wasn’t the closest building, but it was the one most likely to have a fireplace. Even though the smoke would be a giveaway that they were here, it was a chance he had to take.

  Because he was determined to keep Tessa alive.

  Tessa had wafted from lucid to delusional as she rested in Trent’s arms. She’d drifted off for a moment and, in that instant, she’d been back at home with her family. They’d been laughing. She’d felt safe.

  Even stranger, in her quasi dream Trent had been by her side.

  The image had left her feeling warm and cozy. Too happy. What she needed was to keep her distance from Trent. It was the only way she could protect her heart—by remaining solo, and not getting attached.

  It had been so long since she’d felt safe and loved that the dream had just seemed to mock her, to show her what she was missing.

  At once, she pulled her eyes open. She sucked in a deep breath at the unfamiliar place surrounding her.

  A fire crackled beside her, a blanket—blankets, for that matter—were piled on top of her. The room around her was large, almost overwhelmingly so. It smelled dusty and looked neglected.

  Finally, Trent’s face came into view. Everything came back to her. The men hunting them. The snowstorm. Falling from the bridge.

  In each of those instances, Trent had saved her. She’d be dead now without him.

  Her heart filled with gratitude. And maybe something else. The thought made her throat tighten with both joy and fear.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, peering down at her with concern in his eyes.

  Had he been sitting there beside her the whole time? Watching her? Making sure she was okay?

  Her cheeks flushed at the thought.

  She tried to sit up, but her leg jolted with pain. That was right—she was injured. She’d almost died, for that matter. How had she gotten here? Trent must have carried her the entire way.

  “You have a pretty deep cut,” Trent said, tucking the blanket around her. “I cleaned it and put a bandage on it. Right now, we need to concentrate on getting you warm.”

  “How about you? Are you—”

  He shook his head, his gaze steady and almost somber. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

  At his words, a shiver raced through her and a deep ache seemed to reach down to her bones, despite the warm fire crackling beside her. “It’s so...cold.”

  “You’ll warm up soon.” He reached under the heap of blankets and found one of her hands. He began rubbing it in his own.

  His touch—however utilitarian it was—caused her cheeks to warm. He was only trying to save her from frostbite, yet his touch was too tender for that. His hands, though callused, felt gentle.

  Her gaze wandered the area as she tried to focus her thoughts on something other than Trent. They were in a huge room with a ceiling that stretched at least three stories high. Bright windows lined one wall, displaying the blizzard-like conditions outside. Huge wooden beams strapped the edges of the room, and the fireplace was probably taller than Tessa and surrounded completely in what looked like river rock.

  “You found it,” she whispered. “The ski lodge.”

  And somehow he’d managed to get her here, start a fire and remain intact himself. Maybe he was a superhero.

  His eyes followed her for a brief moment. “I did. I built a fire and found some blankets in a few of the old rooms. I haven’t been able to explore much else.”

  “How long was I out?” As she said the words, she realized how dry her mouth was. It felt like sandpaper. Not to mention the fact that her lips were chapped and peeling.

  She inwardly groaned at the thought.

  She could only imagine what she must look like. Not that she cared. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone. But she could have died out there. If Trent hadn’t been quick in his thinking and reacting, she would have fallen to her death into the river below that bridge. Even more, if he hadn’t gotten her here, she could have frozen. She knew she wasn’t home free yet, but her odds were greatly improved, and not by anything she’d done herself.

  “We’ve been here for about an hour.” He continued to rub her hands.

  “Any sign of Leo’s men?” She didn’t even want to ask; she hardly wanted to know. Couldn’t she just deal with one emergency at a time? She wished she had that luxury.

  Trent shook his head. “No, not yet.”

  She didn’t miss the yet. But she pushed the thought aside for now. They’d deal with that later. Hopefully much later.

  She looked at Trent for a moment. It was the first time she’d been able to study him without susp
icion. His cheeks were red and his hair glinted, probably from the snow.

  That was when she caught a glimpse of it—the kindness in his eyes. It was the real deal, not something that was fake or meant to impress. Trent McCabe was a good, decent man.

  “Don’t worry about me.” He let go of her hand, and she immediately missed his touch. He scooted back and stood. “I’m going to see if there’s anything I can use to heat up some water. Some fluids would do us both good. You stay here and get warm, okay?”

  She nodded, already missing his presence even though he hadn’t left yet. “Okay.”

  As he retreated, she turned toward the fire. The glorious heat emanating from it warmed her face and thawed her frozen extremities. In the middle of all of this craziness, being here in the lodge at the moment felt like a little oasis. Sure, the blankets smelled musty. The whole place appeared abandoned, maybe even a little haunted. Snow blanketed the outside and the floor beneath her was cold.

  But for just a moment, she felt she could breathe. She’d take whatever comfort she could get and hang on to it for as long as she could.

  At once, she imagined this place as it might have been at one time. She pictured visitors in ski suits standing around, sipping hot chocolate and talking about the slopes. She envisioned families together, friends chatting, strangers bonding over their love of adrenaline rushes.

  Now it was desolate. Forgotten. Empty.

  Don’t let yourself become just like this ski lodge.

  She blinked as the thought entered her mind. Where had that come from? Why were all of these esoteric ideas hitting her? It was almost as if a force greater than herself was calling her back.

  As though God was speaking to her in a quiet, gentle voice.

  “I found an old pot.”

  Trent’s voice plucked her from her thoughts. She looked over and saw him walk into the room with a cast-iron skillet and two coffee mugs. “That’s great.”

  “There’s no water here, so I used some snow to wash it,” Trent said. “Now we just need to warm this snow up and we’ll be in business.”

  Against her will, she shivered again. The motion was immediately followed by her teeth chattering. The reaction was so sudden, so strong that it surprised her. “I guess I’m colder than I realize.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Trent said, already working at the fire. “Your body is reacting and trying to keep you warm. It’s a survival mechanism.”

  She nodded but felt overcome by her reaction. It was as if every single thing in her life was out of control—her body, her emotions, her circumstances. When everything was stripped away, you learned who you really were. That was what her dad had always said.

  She’d been on a crash course these past several months, then.

  She actually liked some of the things she’d discovered about herself. She was capable. She could survive without a latte from the drive-through every morning. Fancy restaurants were overrated. Those were the surface items she’d realized.

  On a deeper level, she’d found she enjoyed having some peace and quiet, that family was more important than any job and that sometimes less was more.

  With a somewhat contented sigh, she watched as Trent put the pot over the fire and gently stoked the wood there.

  The man really was tough. He had to be cold, but he had some kind of inner strength that pushed him to keep going. A silent sense of responsibly caused him to put her needs above her own.

  That thought did something strange to her heart.

  She was entering dangerous territory, she realized. And she needed to put a stop to it before she ended up getting hurt again. This man was just doing his job. That was it.

  She couldn’t allow her thoughts to go anywhere beyond that.

  * * *

  Trent kept an eye on Tessa, hoping she didn’t take a turn for the worse. When they’d arrived here at the lodge, she’d been totally out, and he’d feared he wouldn’t be able to wake her. Thankfully, he’d started the fire and some color was returning to her cheeks. Despite that, her hands were still cold.

  The cut on her leg was deeper than he’d like. She really should get to a hospital, but since that wasn’t an option right now, he’d cleaned the wound and wrapped it with some bandages he’d found in a cabinet in the old kitchen. The wrap was a little brittle with age, but it would work.

  While she’d slept, he’d found an old radio and picked up a signal. To his dismay, a news report had caught his ear. The police were searching for a man and a woman in connection with an explosion in Gideon’s Hollow, West Virginia. The woman was identified as twenty-seven-year-old Theresa Davidson who might be going by the alias Tessa Jones. Anyone who’d seen her was asked to report information to the police.

  Had Tessa been set up again? First by Leo after she’d fled, and now by Leo as she ran for her life? That was certainly how it appeared. He must have gone to the authorities and revealed her real name.

  As he glanced down at Tessa, his heart lurched in ways it shouldn’t. Even being half-frozen, she was still lovely, especially with the firelight dancing across her face. Warmth had returned to her eyes, which was a good start. That meant that she was warming from the inside, also.

  He poured some water from the pot into a mug. Though he wished he had some coffee to go with this, he didn’t. At least the water would be warm. Carefully, he brought it to Tessa and helped her to sit up. He feared she couldn’t remain upright on her own, so he let her lean back on his chest. She fit a little too snugly there.

  “See if you can take a sip of this. It will help you warm up,” he urged, bringing the cup closer.

  She didn’t argue. Tentatively, she put the cup to her lips and took a sip. “That was a crazy storm. It started, what? Three hours ago? It already looks as if a foot has fallen.”

  “It came on fast and heavy, that’s for sure. If we hadn’t found this place, I’m not sure we would have made it. The good news is that because the storm came so fast, Leo’s men shouldn’t be able to follow our footprints. They’re also not dressed for this weather. But while we’re safe here for a time, we can’t get too comfortable.”

  “I wouldn’t put anything past them.” She paused with her water raised to her lips. “Please drink something yourself, Trent. You need to get warm, too.”

  He didn’t want to admit it, but sitting here beside Tessa made some kind of internal warmth surge through him. But she was right. He’d be no good to her if he didn’t take care of himself, also.

  Reluctantly, he moved away from Tessa for long enough to pour himself some warm water. He wanted to move back beside her, but he’d lost the chance. She was sitting up fine on her own. Instead, he lowered himself in front of her, near the fire. The heat from the flames felt good and for the first time since they’d gotten here, he allowed himself to relax for a moment—if only ever so slightly.

  They’d survived their last battle. Soon they’d have to prepare themselves for the next. Right now, he needed to recharge.

  “I bet this place was a beauty at one time. Don’t you think?” Tessa asked, her head falling back so she could see the ceiling.

  “Definitely.” The old building was fascinating. It looked almost as if the owners had left the place in a hurry—there were still pictures on the walls, a couple pots on the stove in the kitchen. Just what had happened here?

  “Do you ski?” Tessa asked before taking another sip of her water.

  He shrugged. “I’ve been a few times. I prefer being on the water to being on the snow.”

  She smiled softly. “Me, too. I only went skiing once, and it was with Leo’s family. It was somewhere up in Pennsylvania, and there was no expense spared.” Her smile slipped into a frown. “I didn’t realize at that time that all of those luxuries were paid for with money exchanged for innocent human lives.”

  “You didn’t know.”

 
Her frown deepened. “I didn’t even question it. I just assumed their wealth was from the art gallery.”

  “It was a natural assumption. Art can be a lucrative business.”

  “I just feel so naive about everything—about Leo, his family, his money, his friends. I never considered myself a pushover before, but my eyes were definitely opened to how much of an optimist I can be.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being an optimist. I’d take an optimistic any day to some who’s jaded and skeptical about everything. The world needs people who aren’t afraid to trust.” He took a sip of his water, grateful for a hot drink.

  She straightened. “Well, that’s not me anymore. Now I’m suspicious of everyone. I fear I’ve gone to the opposite extreme.”

  He met her gaze. “You haven’t. You only think you have.”

  A flush rushed over her cheeks and she looked away.

  Something passed between them in that moment, and Trent knew he’d let the conversation get too personal. He needed to get his focus back here. There was a time for survival and a time for romance. Right now was a time for survival.

  He scooted toward some items he’d laid out by the fire and picked up a sandwich. “Here you go. It’s not frozen anymore.”

  She eyed the sandwich a moment before taking it.

  He picked up the other half and began eating, also. The bread was soggier than he would have liked, but it was good. Nourishment could be the difference between surviving or not.

  As he glanced out the window again at the falling snow, he realized staying alive involved more than a man-against-man struggle. They were also battling nature.

  He prayed that the storm would only protect them, and not be their demise.

  THIRTEEN

  “Sit tight for one minute,” Trent said after he finished his sandwich. “I need to make a quick phone call.”

  Tessa nodded, curiosity creeping into her gaze.

  He wandered out of the main room, but remained close enough that he could keep an eye on her and the windows—not that he could see much with the wall of snow that cascaded from the sky. But he had to remain vigilant in keeping watch. Those men were resourceful, so he wouldn’t put anything past them.