She ached to undress him and allow her hands to slide beneath the flannel of his shirt, range across his hairy chest, feeling his muscles tighten beneath her assault. His mouth was searching, and she allowed him deeper entry. Vaguely, she was aware of the hand that had imprisoned her hips moving upward across her sweater to cup her breast.
Her skin pulsed with desire as he caressed her, and she moaned against his mouth. Beyond thinking, she turned, allowing him better access to her yearning breast. If only…oh, if only he would touch her more! His mouth took hers expertly, completely, and she spiraled into the heart of the fire.
A gunshot rang out, echoing through the canyon.
Morgan tore his mouth from Laura’s and turned toward the sound of the shot. His arms moved protectively around her, pressing her completely against him, his body a shield. His heart was pounding, his breathing quick as he anxiously searched the surrounding forest. Where had that shot come from? A hunter? Was it Major Houston shooting at a professional hit man sent to hunt them? A hundred thoughts jammed Morgan’s mind.
Vaguely he heard Laura gasp, and felt her go on guard, twisting in his arms.
“No,” he ordered roughly, remaining positioned between her and the direction from which the shot had come.
“Who’s firing?” Laura cried, gripping his arms, her gaze flying from his stony expression to the area across the creek where the shot seemed to have originated.
“I don’t know,” Morgan answered roughly, suddenly turning and dragging her with him. “Let’s go….”
Laura moved quickly as Morgan guided her up the rocky deer trail, which wound steeply upward among the massive, red-sandstone spires. Before too long, Morgan stopped, maneuvering her so that she was fully protected by rock, and surveyed the woods below.
Trying to control her breathing, Laura pressed her hand against her pounding heart. The kiss they’d shared had been incredibly beautiful, freeing. And now, a gunshot. Keeping her voice low, she placed a hand on Morgan’s tense shoulder and asked, “Could it be a hunter?”
“In February? I don’t know of any hunting season this time of year.”
Laura bit down on her lower lip, which was still throbbing with the memory of Morgan’s mouth. “A hit man?” She hated to say it. Hated to admit that even here the damnable drug ring could invade, shattering the pieces of their lives they were so desperately trying to fit back together. She felt a white-hot rage at the intrusion.
“It’s possible,” Morgan growled, frowning as his gaze continued to range across the wooded area. “I don’t see anything.”
“The shot sounded a long way off….”
“Yes,” he grunted, “it did.”
“This is a canyon. Sound carries.” Laura gulped, her heart beginning to steady a little. No more shots had rung out. “Do you think Mike is on top of it?”
“It could’ve been Houston in the first place,” Morgan said, easing into a crouched position and continuing to watch. “He might have been making his rounds and run into someone.”
Shivering, Laura stepped back and wrapped her arms around herself. “Oh, God, Morgan, I thought this was over and done with.”
He twisted to look up at her. “It could be nothing,” he warned her more gently. The paleness of Laura’s features struck him, and he unwound and turned, putting his arms around her. She was trembling like a frightened animal. “Don’t jump to conclusions,” he said thickly, sweeping her close and holding her tightly. Little by little, he felt Laura’s tension dissolve. Kissing her hair and her temple, he divided his attention, his hearing still keyed to the forest below them.
He wondered if it could have been one of Garcia’s hit men who had found them. Maybe Houston had intercepted him. Morgan scowled and held Laura firm. Just when they were getting somewhere, just when it seemed they could put their nightmare behind them, their fragile new world had been shattered with a single shot. Damn! The effect on Laura was startling—and frightening. Her blue eyes had turned nearly black, her pupils huge with terror. Her flushed, fair complexion had gone translucent, the skin appearing to stretch across her cheekbones.
“We’ll stay here for about half an hour, then we’ll take another route back to the cabin,” he told her brusquely. “We won’t retrace our steps, just in case….”
“And then?” Laura asked, her voice muffled against his chest as she continued to cling tightly to him. “What then?”
“We’ll make sure the cabin is safe—then I’ll go inside and call the main ranch. Maybe they can tell us what happened.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, Laura nodded. She buried her face against him, needing the security of his arms around her. Right now, she felt nakedly vulnerable. The gunshot had stripped her of any pretense of safety. Terror sizzled through her, and it was all she could do to hang on to her sanity. Would their lives ever know peace again?
Chapter 10
Laura sat huddled on the sofa, her gaze riveted on Major Mike Houston as he grimly entered the cabin. Morgan stood near the couch, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. Somehow, he seemed to know how badly she needed his continued contact. Inside, she was quivering.
If it hadn’t been for Morgan’s cool, clear thinking, Laura knew she would have become hysterical. But after making it back to the cabin and finding it empty, Morgan had made a phone call to the ranch, contacting Rachel Donovan. She, in turn, had contacted Mike via portable radio, and he’d promised to drive over and tell them what he’d discovered.
Judging by the grim set of the major’s mouth, Laura expected the worst. The Army officer was dressed in gray-and-black tiger fatigues, a pistol riding low on his hip as he walked through the doorway and took off his cap.
“Helluva thing,” he said in greeting as he came to a halt just inside the living room. “Someone, a local, was deer hunting.”
“Deer hunting?” Laura whispered, looking up at Morgan’s fierce countenance.
Mike grinned sheepishly. “That’s all it was, so you can both relax. He was hunting out of season and without a license.”
“You caught the guy?”
“Yes, I did. The CoconinoCounty sheriff is coming out to pick him up at the ranch.” Mike relaxed a little and waved his hand. “You knew the three Donovan daughters run the ranch, didn’t you?”
Laura shook her head. “I knew their parents died, but I thought it was only Rachel running the ranch.”
“Yes, their parents died in a senseless car crash—a drunk driver hit them head-on. Anyway, the three daughters have all come home from the various parts of the country where they were living. When Rachel heard the gunshot, I was patrolling the area along the creek, and I got lucky. I was probably about a quarter of a mile from the shooter. Rachel thought it was her sister, Kate, who—” he frowned and his voice lowered slightly “—just got out of prison and—”
“Prison?” Morgan demanded tightly. “What was she in for?”
Laura shivered and wrapped her arms more tightly around herself.
Mike held up his hand. “Kate was in prison for three years at a federal facility near Phoenix. She was put there for conspiring to blow up a nuclear power plant. She’s an eco-terrorist. Anyway, Rachel thought it was Kate shooting.” Shrugging, Mike said, “She called me to say it was probably Kate causing trouble for them—again. It didn’t ring true with me because Kate doesn’t believe in killing animals, but right now there’s a lot of tension at the ranch. Rachel and Jesse are the two younger daughters. They were running things on their own until Kate got out of prison last week.”
Morgan scowled. “But it wasn’t Kate?”
“No, just a kid about eighteen, trying his luck—out of season.” Mike looked at them in the gathering silence. “Are you all right?”
With a sigh, Morgan nodded. “Just spooked, is all.”
“Laura?”
“A little hysterical,” she jested weakly. “Mike, are we safe with Kate Donovan around? Aren’t eco-terrorists fanatical and dangerous?”
; “I only met her yesterday,” he admitted. “But no, Laura, from what little I got out of her about her prison time, she doesn’t strike me as dangerous.” He shrugged. “I’ll ask Ann—I mean, Dr. Parsons—to keep an eye on Kate since I can’t be in two places at once. My main focus is patrolling the area around your cabin, but Dr. Parsons is in constant touch with me via radio, and I’m sure she’ll apprise me of anything unusual. As it looks now, Kate’s return to the family fold has really put an edge on the two younger daughters.”
“How?” Laura asked, slowly unwinding from her position. Maybe if she got up and moved around, she’d feel less helpless and frightened.
“Let’s put it this way: Rachel and Jesse don’t exactly get along with Kate. It’s obvious they don’t share her feelings about eco-terrorism, and they’re ashamed of her having been in prison. There’s no open hostility, but I gotta tell you, you can cut the air with a knife when those three women are in the ranch house together.”
“Mike, would you like a fresh cup of coffee?” Laura asked, pausing at the kitchen doorway. She had to do something to bleed off her nervousness.
He nodded gratefully. “That would be great, Laura. But look, you don’t need to put yourself out—”
“I want to do it,” she said with a slight smile. “Why don’t you come in and relax for a while? How about if you and Morgan sit and talk out here at the kitchen table?”
“Sure,” Houston said.
Morgan smiled. “Coffee sounds good, Laura. Thanks.”
Laura pulled the coffee can down from the cabinet and put some of the fragrant grounds into the dispenser, part of her tension dissolving under the familiar motions. Her hands trembled, but she ignored them.
“So, how are you getting along at the ranch with Dr. Parsons?” Morgan asked Mike.
Mike flushed and grinned. “It’s not exactly tough duty, if you want the truth.”
Scratching his head, Morgan said, “I don’t have any memory of Ann from before yet, but from what I can see of her now, she’s very special.”
“You picked a winner when you hired her for Perseus,” Mike agreed. “Frankly, since Kate has come home, I’m glad she’s at the ranch. The other two women were so uptight about their sister’s return that if Ann hadn’t corralled them separately and let them talk out their fears, things could have been a lot more rocky than they are right now.”
“Pretty tentative?” Laura asked, twisting to look across her shoulder as she flipped on the coffeemaker’s switch.
“Ann says Rachel and Jesse are more ashamed of their older sister than anything. But from what I’ve seen of Kate, she doesn’t strike me as a violent person.”
“So,” Laura said, placing some sugar cookies she’d made a few days earlier on the table, “you don’t think she’s a problem for us?”
Mike eagerly took a cookie, giving her another grateful look. “Ann…er, Dr. Parsons and I didn’t even know about Kate or the situation until she showed up yesterday on the ranch house doorstep. Rachel and Jesse never mentioned her to us. We think they were hoping she would go somewhere other than ‘home’ after her release. But Kate doesn’t seem the terrorist type.” He frowned and munched on the cookie. “Matter of fact, she’s real quiet and doesn’t say much at all.”
Rubbing his jaw, Morgan said, “I finally got my memory back from the time spent with Ramirez in the jungle. That was prison to me.”
Houston gave him a sympathetic look. “That wasn’t prison, Morgan, that was hell. There’s a difference.”
“The point I’m making,” Morgan said, “is that Kate’s been behind bars for three years.”
“Yes, she was at a maximum-security women’s prison, which meant she was behind bars, with only one hour a day to walk the yard and get a little fresh air and sunshine.”
Laura shook her head. “I can’t imagine that. I’d go insane.”
“That’s why I don’t think Kate is going to be a problem,” Houston said. “She’s spending most of her times outdoors and with the horses, riding and staying out in nature. Usually, she only comes in to eat and sleep.”
“Terrorists don’t usually operate alone,” Morgan murmured. “Do you think some of Kate’s buddies will come around now that she’s out?”
“I don’t know, but it’s something I’m looking into. I’ve got Sean Killian from Perseus working on that angle. He’s getting Kate’s record from the feds. By the time I get back to the ranch this afternoon, there ought to be a sizable packet of information waiting for me to look through.”
Laura poured fresh coffee into mugs and handed them to the men, who murmured their thanks. Pouring a third cup for herself, she sat down with them.
“What if Kate does have terrorist friends who aren’t in prison?”
“There’s a chance they could come to the ranch, I suppose,” Mike said, sipping the coffee with relish. “This is damn, er, darn good coffee, Laura.”
She smiled gently. “Thanks.” Mike Houston was a typical old school military man, she thought. She liked his rugged square face, and alert eyes. In some ways, he was like Morgan, but he had an easygoing, relaxed quality that Morgan didn’t possess. Maybe Morgan had been like that at one time, in his days as an eager young Marine Corps officer. If so, it had been destroyed with so much else on that hill in Vietnam.
“Oh,” Mike said, giving them a look of apology, “I meant to tell you that Customs in Miami picked up one of Garcia’s hit men trying to make it into the States. We believe he was one of two men sent to kill you.”
Laura’s hands tightened around the white mug. She frowned and looked at Morgan, whose gaze narrowed thoughtfully over the information. “What about the other one?”
“They’re still looking for him.”
“Even if they catch him, there’s no guarantee we’re safe,” Morgan told her. “Garcia could have sent a dozen other men we don’t know about.”
“I—I know,” Laura said faintly. She opened her cold hands briefly. “I just wish this was over. All of it. I wish we could put our lives back together and have a sense of security again, that’s all.”
Morgan glanced at Houston and back to Laura. He could see the devastation the gunshot scare had wrought. Although it had shaken him up, too, he wasn’t traumatized by it as Laura was. “I think Mike will agree with me on this,” he told her gruffly. “Once your sense of safety has been compromised, it never truly comes back, Laura. At least, not like before.”
Houston finished his coffee. “Unfortunately, you’re right,” he agreed. “Listen, I gotta saddle up.” He grabbed a handful of cookies, nodded deferentially to Laura and stood. “I’ll be in touch if there’s anything in Kate Donovan’s file that I think you’ll be interested in knowing.”
“Fine,” Morgan said, also rising. He saw how tense Laura had become and felt helpless to offer her the safe harbor she longed for. “Come on, Mike, I’ll walk you to your vehicle.”
Laura pulled herself slowly out of sleep. What had awakened her? She keyed her hearing to Morgan. A week had passed since the rifle incident, and he’d slept soundly every night. Maybe it wasn’t him at all that had awakened her. Drowsily, she went over the possibilities. Kate Donovan, according to Mike Houston, wasn’t a threat to them. Garcia’s second hit man was still on the loose—somewhere. Mike was continuing his patrols. What had awakened her?
A silent alarm was screaming inside her head. The cabin was cool, her blankets drawn cozily around her shoulders. Somehow the gunshot incident seemed to have released a pressure valve within Morgan: he’d been more relaxed since then. But Laura wasn’t so lucky, often awakening around three o’clock. She would quietly get up, make some tea and sit in the living room, thumbing through a magazine or something until she felt the fear ebb enough for her to return to her bed and go back to sleep.
As she lay now, keying her hearing to outside noises around the cabin, she caught the far-off hoot of a great horned owl. The rush and bubble of Oak Creek was always soothing, and she loved the sound of
it. No, she could hear nothing out of place. Her focus moved back to Morgan. In the past seven days he’d not touched her. That wonderfully melting kiss they’d so hungrily shared by the pool had been the last attempt at intimacy between them.
Closing her eyes, Laura sighed, her hands tightening around her pillow. How many times had she seen that hungry look in Morgan’s eyes? Yet, he’d never tried to touch or kiss her again. She could see him seesawing between wanting her and holding himself in iron control. Morgan was a man of principles and integrity, and Laura knew he was wrestling with the devil himself because he’d told her he wouldn’t make love to her until he could remember their shared past. He’d said it wasn’t fair to her, and he was right. At the same time, Laura thought wearily, feeling the fingers of sleep tugging at her, she needed Morgan’s touch, his embrace. Had she communicated that to him? No.
Every day since that gunshot had broken their idyll had been a special hell on earth for her. Gradually, over the past week, Laura realized why. The sound had aroused a blocked memory of her own; Garcia had had one of his guards shot to death in front of her when she was a prisoner at Plantation Paloma. The drug lord had dragged her, dressed in her nightgown, out of her bedroom prison, had hauled her downstairs and behind the huge house and made her watch the man shot by a firing squad. The young soldier’s only mistake had been showing up half an hour late for guard duty on the second floor where her bedroom was located.
Laura hadn’t known anything about the situation. Her door was always kept locked, and even though she tried to find a way to escape, the windows had had heavy bars across them. She’d had no idea the guards, on duty twenty-four hours a day outside her door, had left her alone for a short time. But when she’d been dragged into the yard, she’d seen the abject terror in the soldier’s brown eyes. When she’d tried to cover her face with her hands to avoid seeing him shot, Garcia had yanked them down forcing her to watch the execution.
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