A hunch. Only a hunch, and she’d gambled everything on it.
Gaby forced herself to stop and inhale deeply, then blow the breath out slowly. Panic would do her no good.
But she felt like an idiot, banking on a memory and squandering the twilight on a trip she’d expected to end long before now.
How on earth had the pioneers managed? Imagine being out here with no idea what was ahead, far from lights and people and security—
At once it hit her how thoroughly citified she’d become, how dependent on nine-one-one and cell phones and people and stores at your fingertips.
Remember what it was like, Gaby, those nights with Eli.
She closed her eyes, though calming her racing heart took a minute. The sky felt too huge around her, the air a menace, every sound a cause for fear. She gripped the rope linking her to Buddy as though it were a lifeline.
Deep breath. Now another. Each one settled her a little more into the moment. The sounds she’d heard before, an accompaniment to the melody that had been Eli, one so overpowering that she’d noticed little else.
She felt his hands on her arms, his chest at her back. The slow in and out of his breath. Listen, he’d said. The night makes its own orchestra. You have to respect the land, but fear is destructive. Honor the land for all it has to give you, for all it has given us. And love the night, don’t be frightened by it. The dark can be a comfort it you let it. Stay alert but relax. Even the animals will feel it if you do.
Gaby’s heart settled, and, as if he sensed the change, Buddy came to her side and sat down. She opened her eyes and bent to pet him, then realized that he could probably lead her to Eli’s cave if she would take the leap and let him go. Quit clinging to him for dear life.
“Will you help me?” she asked as she petted him and began to untie the knotted rope. “I’m—” A little hitch caught her voice. “I’m a little scared. I sure would appreciate it if you’d come back to me very soon.”
He hesitated as she slipped the last knot, so she urged him on. “Go ahead, boy. Show me the cave.”
And please, Eli, be in it.
The dog glanced at her, then charged ahead. She followed, forcing herself to stride forward as confidently as possible while still being wary of obstacles.
Then he disappeared from sight, and Gaby’s heart clenched.
Until she realized he’d vanished into the mouth of Eli’s cave.
As quickly as possible, she followed. Her pulse was racing as she contemplated what she would find, and she barely noted the familiarity of the rocks at the entrance and how it appeared to be barely a crease, nothing of note. She slipped into the entrance after first removing her pack, recalling how small the opening was.
“Eli?” she called out quietly. “Are you here?”
Once inside, she kept one hand on the wall while she fumbled for the flashlight in the pack’s front pocket. “Eli?” She remembered from before that Eli had shown her from outside that you couldn’t get the right angle to spot either a fire or a lantern in here, but still she hesitated before flicking the switch, scared of what she might find.
She could hear the dog’s panting. “Come here, boy.”
When he did, her heart sank. If Eli were in here, she doubted the dog would have come to her.
She turned on the flashlight and went blind for seconds.
Then opened her eyes.
Eli was living here, she could tell.
But he wasn’t here now.
Gaby sank to the floor of the cave.
And wondered where to go next.
His Gerber knife had once again come in handy. With its serrated edge, he could cut wire, if necessary, so stripping off shoots of a mesquite branch to make an impromptu cane was comparatively easy.
In the late afternoon shadows, he’d made his preparations, an inner sense propelling him to get back to his cave as soon as possible. His progress was slow and his footing anything but sure. The night vision goggles played hell with depth perception, and getting dizzy was all too easy.
Or maybe blood loss was responsible for that. The compression bandage had soaked through; he’d been reduced to tearing off a strip of his T-shirt and adding pressure by using his belt. When he got to the cave and dared use a lantern, he was going to have to break out the sewing kit he always carried and close the wound if he could reach all of it.
Seeking medical care wasn’t an option, not unless he was willing to abandon this operation without proving his innocence. He’d lived outside the U.S. for all these years, and he could do it again.
But what would happen to Gaby? Until Eli was clear on her plans and her relationship with Chad, he couldn’t assess her danger.
This time, abandoning her wouldn’t protect her.
He had no reason to think there was a future for them now, more than in the past—
But he was sticking around, anyway, long enough to be sure she was safe, first of all.
And because he would not let the second Sheriff Anderson win. He wasn’t a kid anymore, and he wouldn’t be run off this time—
He’d traveled the world, exposing injustice to the light of day. Whatever his next step was, before he left this place that had haunted him for years, he would right this wrong.
And he would deliver Frank Navarro’s last message to the daughter from whom Frank had let his pride estrange him.
If she’d made a successful escape, no eyes would be watching. She could set the dog free again and use a flashlight to find Eli.
But there was no way to be certain she hadn’t been followed without risking that she was wrong, and she had a much less certain idea where Eli would be, if not here. Gaby chewed her thumbnail and paced. This place, once nearly as familiar as home, didn’t feel the same without Eli in it.
It didn’t look the same, either. Back then, everything had been rigged from bits and pieces he could gather because he and his mother had next to no money.
She smiled to think of his ingenuity; Eli had rivaled MacGyver of television fame with his ability to improvise. He’d had a pair of cargo pants, and his pockets were a treasure trove. Eli was a magpie—not the usual sort, distracted by bits of sparkle, but he was forever gathering pieces of wire and old nails and remnants of string. She recalled a ball of twine he’d assembled that used to sit right over—
There. She crossed to the little recess, and her eyes filmed. She lifted one hand, almost afraid to touch it for fear—
Real. Her fingers closed around it, squeezing lightly as if to recapture a precious piece of their past. She brought it close to her face, sniffing it for traces of Eli’s scent, that resin-y aroma of piñon bark that always clung to him.
For a second, she thought she caught it, and she smiled, even as her heart hurt. Oh, Eli…
She clasped the ball of twine to her breast and closed her eyes. Please, she begged, a woman who had forgotten how to pray, please keep him safe.
The silence pulsed around her, and urgency gripped her again. Forcing aside her guilt over invading the lair of a very private man, she began to inventory what was here, what might prove useful in her search.
Because if she spent another night worrying about him without taking action, she would surely lose her mind.
And she didn’t dare not be back at the ranch house by morning’s light.
Two boxes of ammunition.
Three boxes of protein bars. Two bags of beef jerky.
A water purifier
Four books, one of which she’d given him, Broken Wings, by Khalil Gibran.
A journal she wanted to read more than she wished for anything but to find Eli.
A very high-end digital video camera
Laptop with solar recharger
Eli, what have you been doing all these years?
A waterproof bag, light but lumpy. Gaby’s hand hovered over the cord looped and tied at the mouth, wondering about the contents.
But she had already trespassed more than felt comfortable.
&n
bsp; She opened the Gibran book and looked at the girlish handwriting. To Eli, the soul of my soul, the beat of my heart. Love, Gaby
Sentimental prose, maybe—but truly felt in every cell of that romantic girl’s body.
He’d kept it.
Sorrow seized her. Why hadn’t she tried harder to find him back then, and in the intervening years?
But she knew. You’ll make something of yourself, he’d always insisted. You’ll go on to better things. You’ll make it out of this place.
Never once had he said we. She’d used the plural all the time, but Eli never had. She just hadn’t wanted to see it.
Where have you been, Eli, during all these days and weeks and years that we’ve lost? Gaby caressed the worn cloth binding of the book, swamped by misery. What had Eli been going through, cast out all alone?
She knew what it was to be friendless, but she had the knack of making them when she wanted. She was not a loner by nature.
Eli was the most solitary person she’d ever known. Except with her.
The dog whimpered and trotted to the mouth of the cave.
Gaby whirled, quickly setting the book aside. “What is it, boy?” she whispered.
He whined and nosed his way around the corner, toward the opening.
Gaby grasped her flashlight and blew out the lantern. With her hand clasped over the lens so that only faint light passed between her fingers, she waited for her eyes to adjust, then she crept closer to the dog—
Who vanished into the night.
“Buddy, no—” But she didn’t dare say it above a murmur. She clicked off the flashlight and edged near the opening, her heart thumping double-time. She had to remind herself not to hold her breath, but she was scared half to death to peer around the edge. She held still and listened, every sense alert, but she couldn’t hear anything—
Then a groan. Followed by the dog’s whimper. As she eased nearer to the outside, she heard the animal approach. She saw him in the dim starlight just before his head butted her leg, so she didn’t have heart failure as she might have. He trotted away a few feet as though waiting for her.
She inhaled and took the final step into the night. “Come here, Buddy,” she called quietly.
He returned, but his reluctance was clear.
She grasped his collar, wishing she had the rope. “Show me.”
Hunched to keep her grasp on the dog, Gaby’s pace was slow and awkward as she followed—
And nearly stumbled over something lying on the ground.
A body.
Eli.
Chapter Eleven
“No!” Gaby fell to her knees beside him. “Eli—” She grabbed for his arm, and he moaned. Her palm came away wet.
In the moonlight, it shone dark. Blood. Oh, no. She knew next to nothing about first aid. Her heart was a drumbeat inside her head. “What happened? Eli, can you hear me?” She bent over him, trying to see where he was hurt, but his dark clothing interfered. “Eli?”
He still didn’t speak. Panic tore through her. Get a grip, Gaby. That won’t help. She tried to remember anything she’d ever seen or heard about first aid.
She felt for a pulse at his throat. When she felt one, she took a shuddery breath. Thank goodness. But was it too slow or too fast? She tried to compare it to the pace of her own, but hers was racing.
His seemed even faster. Much too fast.
“Eli?” She kept her voice down. Managed to make it sound far calmer than she felt. “You’re going to be okay.” Please. Oh, please.
“I just have to get you inside, so I can see where you’re hurt.” But how to do that? He was much taller and very muscled. She did Pilates, not weightlifting. She couldn’t carry him.
Tears of frustration prickled. She had never felt more alone in her life.
Juanita Alvarez would know how to treat him, but even if Eli hadn’t forbidden Gaby from seeking the woman out again, she was far too scared to leave him.
It was up to her to save him. Stop it. Now. You’re acting like a girl. You’re a grown woman. In New York, they think you’re tough.
All right. Okay. She chewed at her lower lip for a second, mentally surveying the interior of the cave for assets. Her mind caught on the sleeping bag. If she could roll him onto it, maybe she could drag him inside. Her legs were strong from all the walking, so maybe she could use their power and only need to rely on her arms to retain a grip.
She bent over Eli and rested one palm on his cheek. “You hold on. I have to leave for a minute, but I’ll be back, you hear me?” Tears threatened again, and she touched his forehead with hers, resting there for a minute. “Don’t you dare die on me, you got that?” She pressed a kiss to his brow and rose. “Stay with him, Buddy.” She patted the dog, then walked quickly back to the cave and slipped inside.
Clutching the sleeping bag to her chest, she soon returned and spread it onto the ground next to him. Wishing once again that she knew how badly he was injured, she finally had to steel herself to act and hope that the benefits of getting him where she could examine him would outweigh any harm from moving him.
For an instant, she lost her nerve. He needed better help. She was well-versed in wines and literature and too many other topics that seemed completely absurd now. Nothing at all that could save a man’s life. What on earth was she thinking?
You’re all he’s got, Gaby.
And so she began. As carefully as possible, she rolled him halfway and slid the doubled-up bag beneath him. She pulled with all her might to lift his upper body and hold it against her as she smoothed out the top half of the bag, then repeated the movement with his legs.
With every deep groan, she bit the inside of her cheek and forced herself to persevere, torn between praying he’d wake up and that he would remain unconscious until she got him inside.
Then she began to drag him, painfully slowly, doing her best to avoid rocks and jolts, dying inside a little each time she jarred a moan from his lips. Her fingers were clenched so tightly on the bag that they were beginning to cramp, and her back was aching, but doggedly, she continued, inch by agonizing inch.
And prayed every second that she wouldn’t kill him.
At last, they were at the mouth of the cave. She sank to her heels and let her screaming arms fall while she stared at the slender opening meant for vertical entry and tried not to weep at the impossibility of getting him inside. He was too long to make it past the slit that angled in an ell before you got into the main cave area.
She pressed her fingers to her eyes and forced herself to think. She’d never manage to get him to his feet without his help. She removed her fingers and stared again, measuring the gap. Maybe…
It was the only solution she could come up with. She felt over his torso for more bleeding but didn’t sense any other wetness. That didn’t rule out internal injuries, though.
Please don’t let me injure him worse.
Once again, she considered leaving him in order to seek help, but her mind returned again and again to his voice when he spoke of Chad. Chad’s tone when he discussed Eli. There was no doctor for many miles, and if the county had an EMS, Chad would know of the call long before they could get to Eli.
She was lousy help, but she was all he had.
She sat down at the head of the sleeping bag and parted her legs on either side of it. Then she began easing Eli up to sitting as gently as she could manage, avoiding his injury and slipping her arms, at last, around his waist as she rested his back against her chest.
Then she began to scoot backward and drag him with her. With his length halved, she thought she could back both of them through the opening and around the edge.
Twice, his weight started shifting, and only the sides of the opening kept them both from toppling. Their progress felt as though it took hours.
But at last she had him inside far enough that she dared use her flashlight. As carefully as possible, she slid herself away and laid him back, digging her teeth into her lower lip every time he ma
de a sound.
When he was settled, she fell to her back, every muscle shaking. She was nearly too tired to light the lantern.
But she had to. She made her way to her feet. Soon, a golden glow pervaded the cave once more. On unsteady legs, she returned to Eli’s side.
And felt, once again, for his pulse. Watched his chest rise and fall. Saw the blood-soaked bandage around his arm, the ragged trails of red down his arm.
And prayed to be up to the task.
Then Gaby went to work.
Something brushed at his cheek. From inside the darkness, he reached for it. An elusive scent caught him, lured him upward.
Pain sent him spiraling back down.
Eli.
Who—
Eli. He swam toward the light. Shifted and recoiled from the ache.
“Eli. Please.”
He…wanted.
Little glimmers, tiny golden fishes darting across his vision—
“Yes. Wake up. Please.”
That voice, so sweet. So…lovely.
“Eli, come on.” Aching. And…fear?
“Unh.” He tried to lift his head. Pain speared, and he dropped back with a groan.
“It’s okay.” Fingers, cool fingers on his face. “Please. I need you to wake up.”
He blinked, and worried brown eyes greeted him. “Yes. Oh, yes. Eli, I’ve been so worried.”
His eyes wanted to close so badly. Then popped open. “Gaby?”
Hands on each side of his face. A beautiful smile. Eyes filled with tears. “Yes. Oh, thank heaven.”
He tried to rise. The weight on his right arm shot instant agony through his body.
“Don’t. Take it easy. I—” She chewed on her lip. “I cleaned it up the best I could, but I—it might need sewing up. But I was afraid—” Her eyes filled with tears. “I hurt you, moving you. I’m so sorry.”
Guarding Gaby Page 11