by Suzanne Cass
“Were you warm enough?” he asked gently into the top of her knit cap.
“Hmm?” She hummed drowsily. “Not really,” she admitted, voice thick with sleep. “But it wasn’t as cold as I was expecting, either. Having my personal hot water bottle helped.” She pushed back a little, so she could study his face.
He couldn’t help it; she was so cute, all bundled up in the sleeping bag, her knit cap askew on her head, long drifts of hair escaping out the sides. He kissed the tip of her nose. Her green eyes darkened and fixed on him.
“What was that for?”
“I don’t know. Because you look like a kid wrapped in your blankie.” He used his finger to brush some strands away from her face, then ran it down the soft swell of her cheek. “But also, because you’re so brave. You’ve hardly complained at all, after I dragged you into this mess. You’ve taken most of it in your stride, even though you’re way out of your comfort zone.”
She didn’t answer, merely fixed those leaf-green eyes on his lips, letting him appreciate what she wanted.
As if she’d lassoed him with an elastic cord, his head was drawn toward her, and his mouth closed inexorably on hers. A sigh left her lips as they touched. Then she opened to him, and their kiss deepened. She tilted her head slightly to give him better access to her lips.
He wasn’t sure if all French women were this good, but Stella was the best kisser he’d ever known. And he’d had his fair share. It was something about her inner sensuality, her own self-confidence as a strong, sexy woman. She gave back to him as an equal, not letting him dominate her, but not dominating him, either.
His cock stirred and hardened almost immediately, and he wished these layers of clothing and sleeping bags didn’t exist. The only bit of skin available to him was her face and the side of her neck. He ran his fingers up under the back of her knit cap, then wrapped them around her slim neck and slid them beneath her scarf to find the dip beneath her collarbone.
“Hey.” Tony’s rough voice broke his warm bubble of desire.
Wyatt exhaled loudly.
“If you guys aren’t awake yet, then you need to be. It’s fucking freezing.” The side of the tent shook, as if Tony had kicked it. Wyatt let out a grunt of irritation. When this was all over, he really was going to take great pleasure in slowly throttling Tony. The jerk.
Stella smiled up at him, a lopsided grin full of regret mixed with humor. “I suppose…”
“Yes,” he murmured. “You stay here where it’s warm, and I’ll go and re-build the fire.”
Stella considered his words. “No, I’ll get up, too. I’m sure we need to get moving soon, don’t we?”
He was surprised. She’d grasped the situation well. For a city girl, she was doing great. Better than Tony, that was for sure.
He and Levi had checked the weather forecast quickly before they’d left last night, and there was no snow predicted for the next few days, which was a blessing. At least they wouldn’t be battling the elements along with everything else they had to contend with.
They had a full day of hiking ahead of them. Stella was right, she should get up now, too. It was still a long way over this range and then back down the other side, before they made it to the abandoned house. And even then, they had no clear plan. No obvious way out of this mess.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BY THE TIME Stella crawled out of the tent, Wyatt had a small fire going. She went and stood next to him, hoping to warm her hands, giving Tony a quick nod of acknowledgement. Tony scowled at her. He didn’t look happy; he had his arms crossed, and was stamping his feet on the ground, as if to thaw out. His face looked worse for wear, too. It’d been too dark to see it last night, but this morning she could see the evidence of Wyatt’s brutality written all over him. Bruising was turning his left eye purple and there was a hint of dried blood around his nostrils, beneath a nose that was decidedly crooked. She winced. Wyatt sure had packed a punch.
It was cold out here, after the relative warmth of her sleeping bag, and she felt a tiny bit sorry for Tony. She was glad of the protection from the tent, as well as having Wyatt by her side last night. Tony must be frozen.
Dawn was creeping fingers of light into the sky, which was a pale, indigo blue, edging to subtle pink as the sun rose behind the mountains. Even though it was freezing, Stella could appreciate the calm serenity of the fresh, morning light. Everything was so still, she could hear a pin drop. She saw why Wyatt might prefer to camp outside. It was beautiful. There was a soft whoosh and then a thud, as a clump of snow slid off a branch and landed on the ground. The first time she heard that sound on the trek through the dark last night, she had no idea what it was. Wyatt had to explain it to her. A bird trilled its message to the morning. There were so many things she didn’t understand about trekking in the wilderness, but even after only one night, she wanted to learn more.
Wyatt piled the remaining branches they’d gathered onto the fire.
“We’ll need more wood,” he said to Tony. Tony just glared at him and didn’t budge, holding his hands above the flames. What an ass. She’d been about to ask him if he needed some painkillers for his face, but she changed her mind.
“I’ll help,” she said, and followed Wyatt into the dense forest. They didn’t have to go far to find pieces of dead wood and she was glad of the exercise, as it warmed her up considerably.
“I’m checking in with Levi,” Wyatt said, once they returned.
“Good. We need to know what’s going on in town.” It was the first bit of animation Tony had shown all morning, his face finally changing from that perpetual scowl.
Wyatt retrieved the sat phone from the top of his pack and turned it on. Then he dialed Levi’s number. Both she and Tony listened to the one-sided conversation carefully. Wyatt’s single-word responses frustrated Stella, giving her nothing. But his deepening frown told her what she suspected; it was bad news.
Finally, he ended the call, pursing his lips as he looked at her.
“Well?” Tony demanded.
Wyatt shot him a disapproving look. “It’s pretty much as we expected. The entire town is in an uproar over Bryce’s death. Everyone is anxious, frightened, demanding answers. There are a few vigilantes running around with shotguns, hoping to catch the killer.”
“But it’s so early in the morning,” Stella said. “How did they…?”
“This is a small country town, gossip spreads like wildfire.” Wyatt said, anticipating her question. “And something like this, a local being gunned down in his own diner, well, that’s just about the biggest thing to have happened here in years.”
Stella opened her mouth to reply, but Tony cut her off. “Yeah, yeah, I’m not interested in the town’s crazy lunatics, I’m interested in whether Levi’s heard anything more about Dmytro’s men.”
Wyatt took his time to tuck the satellite phone into his backpack before he turned to answer. Tony was getting more irritated with every passing second, but then she guessed it was exactly what Wyatt intended. Tony was rude and arrogant, and Stella wondered what’d ever possessed Wyatt to befriend him in the first place.
“Levi has heard nothing else. If it was Dmytro’s men—”
“Of course it was Dmytro’s men,” Tony snapped.
“If it was Dmytro’s men,” Wyatt continued, as if Tony hadn’t interrupted him, “then they’ve gone to ground, because there’s no sign of them.”
“What about the cops, what are they doing about it?” Tony demanded.
“Levi has a buddy in the sheriff’s office, Jude, but even he won’t say much. One thing he did tell him, though, is that my sudden departure is highly suspicious. Jude said they’re issuing a warrant for my arrest today.”
Stella gasped. It was just like Levi had predicted. He’d warned Wyatt something like this would happen.
“Oh, no. That’s terrible. You had nothing to do with this.” She took hold of his hand, an offer of comfort.
He shrugged, seeming to ignore her touch.
“I knew it would happen.” There was a bitterness to his tone. “Once a felon, always felon.”
“Yeah, sorry about that, man.” For once Tony seemed to be sincerely apologetic.
“Don’t give me that shit.” Wyatt rounded on Tony. “This is all your fault. Bryce is dead because of you. And now I’m a wanted man because of you.” Wyatt’s face flushed red beneath his knit cap, and Stella wondered if he was going to punch the man again. She still had hold of his hand, and she squeezed it tight.
Wyatt drew in a deep breath, apparently deciding Tony wasn’t worth it. “Let’s make some breakfast and get out of here. We need to keep moving.” But his fingers clasped hers tight for a few seconds before he let her go. It was heartening to see Wyatt control his temper. Even if it was just for her sake, she was grateful. From what she was learning about him, he was serious and solemn, but also thoughtful and sensitive.
He kept that compassionate side hidden from most people, perhaps another effect of spending time in jail with hardened criminals. But she knew it was there, and she hoped to see more of it.
Stella couldn’t decide if Wyatt’s decision to take her and Tony into the mountains to keep them safe was a good thing, or not. Disappearing like he had made him look guilty, and she could see why the police would jump to conclusions. But then again, perhaps it was a good thing Wyatt was out here, instead of being dragged to jail to be questioned and accused. From what she knew of Wyatt, it would do his injured soul no good to go through all that. Her heart ached for him. It seemed no matter which way he turned; the choices weren’t good. He was in a dire situation, and she wasn’t sure if there was anything she could do to help him. In fact, she was probably hindering him.
Wyatt took the pan he’d filed with snow last night and filled their water bottles through some sort of filtering device. Then he heated the rest over the fire until it boiled. They had a quick breakfast; a freeze-dried hiking meal; it might’ve been scrambled eggs. She ate quietly, and watched Wyatt make up the Thermos of coffee, then helped as he re-packed the sleeping bags and took down the tent. They were ready to go in less than fifteen minutes.
Since Wyatt’s outburst, Tony had remained sullenly silent, which Stella thought was a good thing. Every time he opened his mouth, he either said something rude, or egotistical, or just plain stupid. She followed Wyatt as he led them away from their camp and up the mountainside.
* * *
Stella heard a noise. A subtle ping. She’d recognize that sound anywhere. It was the sound of a message notification on a cell phone. She saw Wyatt’s head snap up as he heard it too. It was nearly lunchtime by Stella’s guess, and they were climbing a steep section toward a high ridgeline. She had her head down, watching where she was putting her feet, using her hands to help now and then.
Wyatt swung around, just as Tony swore softly under his breath. His gaze bored into the smaller man below him on the trail.
“Tell me that wasn’t your fucking cell,” Wyatt ground out between clenched teeth.
“Fuck,” Tony said as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. He jabbed repeatedly at the buttons and swore again.
“Tony.” Wyatt’s voice was dangerously cold.
“What?” Tony said belligerently. Then when he caught Wyatt staring at him, he admitted, “Yeah, I turned it on when we stopped for a break earlier, so what? There’s no reception out here in these godforsaken mountains, anyway. I guess I forgot to turn it off.”
“Do it. Right now.” Wyatt descended the path, looking as if he were about to snatch the phone away from Tony. Stella stepped back to let him pass, her worried gaze finding his as he passed her by. Tony had turned the cell off by the time Wyatt reached him and tucked it away out of sight.
Stella stared at Tony in surprise. Hadn’t he listened to what Levi told them back at the house? Surely, he understood there was a risk in using it? She hadn’t touched her phone since she’d put in the backpack last night.
“Have you turned it on at any other time?” Wyatt asked quietly.
Tony shot him a guilty look.
She’d been feeling sorry for him because his face looked so sore, but Stella decided she’d never despised a man more than she did right now. Tony was a lying little weasel. Wyatt was trying to help him, and all he was doing was whining at every turn, then sabotaging their plans.
“Well?” Wyatt demanded.
“I checked it last night, after you were both cozy in your little love nest.”
Stella watched Wyatt’s shoulders tense.
“I need to know what’s going on. There were ten missed calls from Dmytro, and—”
“Of course there were, he wants his diamonds back. And he wants to find you,” Wyatt shouted. “I warned you Dmytro might be able to track us if you turned your phone on, you imbecile.”
“It’s off now,” Tony said, with a sulky tilt to his mouth.
“Make sure it doesn’t go on again, or I’ll confiscate it.” Wyatt stomped back up the trail.
Tony mumbled to himself, “I’d like to see you try.”
She ignored the loathsome man and began walking, but a shiver of foreboding ran up her spine.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WYATT’S ANGER SLOWLY ebbed until it was a dull simmering in his belly. When he’d heard Tony’s cell phone earlier today, he’d been ready to punch a tree. The only thing that’d stopped him was Stella’s presence. Otherwise, Tony might be a bloodied mess, left to rot back down on the trail. But he hadn’t wanted her to think he was some kind of untrained hooligan. Then again, who was he kidding? He’d often solved his problems with his fists in the past, even though he knew there was a better way.
They stopped for a quick lunch of crackers and cheese. Wyatt didn’t have the time or the energy to light a fire and cook up one of the dehydrated meals. He was more worried about trying to decide whether they should keep going. Should he change direction? Abandon their plan? There were lots of other trails up here. Technically, the hiking trails weren’t open in winter, but the odd cross-country-skiing group still used them. They didn’t have sufficient supplies to stay out here for more than another day or two, however. He’d need to restock if they were to keep traveling.
If someone had managed to pick up Tony’s signal, would they even bother to follow them this far into the wilderness? Wyatt doubted it. Few people beside him were brave enough or stupid enough to go hiking in this weather.
Suddenly, he heard Stella’s breaths coming in loud, ragged gasps, and he glanced behind him. He was a dick. She must be exhausted; they’d been climbing for over an hour without a break. He’d been worrying over other things and not concentrating on her. She hadn’t complained, not even once. They were nearly to the summit of Butte Cabin Ridge. There was a perfect little campsite just over the other side, but they were still an hour’s walk away.
“How are you doing? Can you make it for another few minutes? We’ll be at the top then, and we should get an excellent view.” He stopped and waited until Stella looked up at him.
Stella merely nodded, then returned her gaze to the trail, making sure she didn’t stumble or fall. Tony had dropped back; he was barely visible through the trees. Wyatt couldn’t be bothered waiting for him. He was thoroughly regretting bringing the man along. If he couldn’t keep up, it was his own fault.
Wyatt listened to Stella struggle the rest of the way, grunting and gasping for air, and felt like a complete ass that he’d been ignoring her for so long.
But when they crested the top of the last rise and Stella stopped to take in the scenery, he knew the climb had been worth it. A few taller trees blocked their direct view into the next valley, but from here they could see the Bitterroot Mountains spread out on the other side of the basin.
“Wow,” she breathed. “This is… I can’t find the words. It’s trés magnifique.”
Wyatt didn’t speak French, but even he could translate that. He straightened his shoulders, somehow absurdly glad she liked what she
saw. Although, after her reaction when they escaped from the snowbound truck and she’d seen the spectacle left behind by the blizzard, calling it a winter wonderland, he should’ve known.
“I no longer mind that my legs are aching.” She flashed him one of her gorgeous grins. Stella had removed her knit cap and gloves and opened her coat, probably sweating from the steep climb, even in this freezing weather. Her hair, which was normally swept up into a messy bun, had come loose and strands were hanging around her face, which was flushed pink with exertion. She pursed her rosebud lips as her gaze roamed over the all-encompassing vista. She was the picture of vitality and feminine strength. And he suddenly wanted her with all his heart. If she were in his life, he might become that better man he knew was hiding deep inside him somewhere. He would do it for her. Because she deserved it. He took a step toward her, gaze fixed on her lips, lost in the idea of her. His body hummed with need, and all he wanted was to kiss that perfect mouth.
“Holy shit, are you trying to kill me?” Tony broke his small moment of introspection with his crass comment.
Wyatt stepped away from Stella, as if being released from a dream.
“Who wants some water?” Wyatt held out a bottle of melted snow toward Stella, passing it to her just before Tony tried to snatch it away, and sent him a look that said, mind your manners.
As he watched Stella put the bottle to her lips and tip her head back to gulp the water, something flashed in the corner of his eye below them; down the way they’d come. Turning his head, he concentrated on the area, not bothering to listen to Tony, who was now droning on about how he would never climb another mountain in his life.
What was that? Had he imagined it? Just the sunlight glinting off the snow? Or the flash of a bird’s wing as it darted from one tree to the next? He stared for a long time, but saw nothing more.
It was time to get moving, otherwise they wouldn’t make it to the campsite before dark.