Surviving With Love

by Vickery, Rebecca J.

  A particularly thick patch of brush and small trees demanded her attention and Stacey suddenly stopped. Cord almost ran into her. She circled to one side and got down on her knees.

  “What is it?” He sounded irritated.

  “Some sort of altercation took place.” She pointed out the scuffmarks as she brushed aside the debris on the ground. Rotting leaves and pine needles covered the marks. “Looks like the boys picked this spot and tried to get away.” Stacey picked up a couple of pine needles by the ends and closely studied them. “Blood. Only a small amount.” Slowly walking around, she checked the site from all angles.

  “When?” Cord wanted to know.

  “Yesterday, late morning. We’re gaining on them, but they’re pushing harder. Must be tired of our beautiful woodland scenery.”

  “We have to move faster. Let’s go. Hustle it up,” Cord insisted.

  “Faster is not always better,” Stacey argued and glared up into his face.

  “I want this done, Parker. Now move,” he ordered tersely and went on.

  “You want faster? Okay, Great Leader, you’ll get faster.” If she overran the trail, he could blame himself when they had to go back over the same ground.

  At the end of three hours Stacey’s thigh and calf muscles burned. Her shirt clung damply and her feet hurt. When the trail was clearly visible, she moved at a fast trot even uphill. They drank their water on the move and didn’t take a break. The shadows grew longer as the afternoon passed.

  When they reached a large stream, Stacey found where the men camped the night before. She was ready to keep going when Cord slipped off his pack.

  “Ten minutes and then we’ll go until there’s no light left.” He disappeared into the brush.

  Stacey gladly dropped her pack and took a long drink from her canteen. Hunting out the candy bar he gave her, she sat down and hugged her knees while munching. The soles of her feet were tender and achy and the stream looked very inviting. The icy water would feel heavenly on them. Too bad they weren’t going to camp here tonight.

  Cord came back and sat down near her while she ate the chocolate. Taking a bar from his pack, he broke it in half and stuck one piece back for later. “You okay?” he asked after taking a bite.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Just tell me if you can go on for a while,” Cord insisted.

  “Yes.” She took her flannel shirt from her pack and slid it on. The dampness of her thermal shirt felt cold against her skin as her body cooled down. The air got cooler with the coming night. She would be lucky if she didn’t take pneumonia.

  “Good.” Cord stood and put his pack on. “Time to go.”

  Without another word, Stacey put her arms back in her pack straps and used her legs to push up. Her muscles protested painfully, but she refused to groan. Jumping the stream, she led the way along the trail the criminals left.

  Cord watched her carefully as she moved quickly through the thick growth of trees and brush. He knew she was tired. At least she didn’t complain. He needed to get this job done and get away from her. What were the odds of finding a woman like her on a job like this?

  Getting closer was not an option he wanted to consider, but that’s where he would be headed if he didn’t watch out. She didn’t seem the type he could sleep with once and leave. That was the only type he wanted in his present life. To become seriously involved with a woman when his work took him all over the world for weeks at a time would be grossly unfair. So far he managed to avoid the particular female capable of making him change his mind.

  Cord stuck to brief sexual encounters with women who liked what he could give them and didn’t mind the scars on his face and body. Instinctively he realized this slip of a girl would make the decision to leave very difficult. Therefore, he needed to avoid her. On the trail that would be impossible, so the job must be finished as quickly as possible.

  Stacey and Cord crossed a small fire area containing partially burned tree trunks surrounded by new growth. The light proved better in the clearing and they could see the tracks of the men they followed on the blackened ground where it wasn’t covered by vegetation.

  Stacey touched Cord’s arm at one point and pointed to the right of them. Deer were feeding on the new growth along the edges of the clearing. Two or three does and their spotted fawns suddenly threw their heads up, scenting the humans, and bounded into the forest.

  When Stacey and Cord reentered the trees, it seemed especially dark. Stacey stopped to let her tired eyes adjust to the lack of light. She continued on at a slower walk. The air was cool, but not as cool as earlier. She felt dampness on the slight breeze. It would rain before morning. She hoped it wouldn’t wipe out the tracks.

  CHAPTER 5

  “Next place for a good campsite, we should stop,” Cord told her as it became harder to tell where he put his feet.

  “Okay,” Stacey agreed. “We should get settled before it rains.”

  “Rain?” Cord looked up to see patches of clouds in the darkening sky through the branches of the trees. He should have been aware of the pending weather change already, but she distracted him. Not good under the circumstances.

  “I’m afraid so. There’s a large pine that looks like good shelter over that way. Of course,” she added, “if it starts lightning we’ll have to move.”

  “Whatever you think. You know the weather around here. Any chance it will miss us?”

  “It could, but I don’t think so. As long as it doesn’t pour, the trail will still be visible. And it will be easier to follow when they walk on the wet ground afterward.” Stacey pushed in under the branches of the tree she chose. “Not as good as last night, but it will do.”

  “Okay with me,” Cord agreed then dropped to his knees to avoid banging his head on the limbs hanging down. He hated getting wet all the way through, but it happened on the trail.

  They slipped out of their packs and leaned them against the trunk of the large pine. Stacey began searching in hers and muttering. “Drat. I can’t see a...aha! There you are.” Staying low she crawled out from under the tree. “McConnell, you want to come help me with this?”

  As he crawled out, she told him, “Take this end and put it over those branches. Clip it in place with these.” She handed him the end of a thin rubberized tarp then some strong clamps that looked almost like clothespins. “We should stay fairly dry under this.”

  Cord helped her rig up the makeshift shelter over some of the lower branches of the tree. The darkness hindered their efforts, but they managed. It was definitely easier than packing and pitching a tent. When they were through they had a large covering to shed water.

  After crawling back inside, Stacey began scraping together a pile of pine needles for her bed while Cord followed her example and did the same. He left a small space between them.

  The wind began to blow and the tarp over them popped slightly. They both paused to see if the clips would hold. The tarp didn’t come loose and they continued making their beds. A definite feel of moisture rose on the wind.

  “We should probably settle in for the night,” Cord suggested as the wind howled through the trees.

  “I think so. Let’s hope this wind doesn’t blow in some colder weather. I can do without any ice.”

  Neither of them wandered very far from camp as they prepared for the night. With the cloud cover there wasn’t even a star to help them navigate.

  Cord finished first and was ready to call out for Stacey when she crawled under the tarp. He bit back a teasing comment about looking for her dance partner, needing to maintain a certain distance between them. He watched her search in her backpack again. Cord heard the clanking of metal on metal then she leaned toward him.

  “I’ve got a couple of packs of coffee. If you’ll fix it, I’ll spread out our bedrolls—or we can do it the other way round.” Stacey needed the coffee. It had been a rough afternoon.

  “Hand me the canned fuel. I’ll put it on this side so you can work on the beds,”
he offered and held out his hands to take the provisions. As he took it, their hands brushed and he was immediately in trouble again. Heat flew through him. He jerked back, dropping the coffee packets and the matches.

  Without looking at him, she asked, “You want to tell me what’s wrong?” Stacey placed the items carefully in his hands without touching him.

  “No.” Cord turned away and busied himself making the coffee. He uttered a few low curses as he fumbled with the tiny stove and lit the fuel.

  Stacey shrugged and spread their blankets on top of the soft beds of pine needles. My, he is definitely moody, she couldn’t help but think. Realizing she failed to hand him a canteen, she unhooked hers from her pack and scooted to within arm’s length. “You might need this.” She held it out to him, but kept her distance.

  He glanced over his shoulder and with a muttered, “Thanks,” took the canteen.

  Crawling back to her bedroll, Stacey sat on top of it to unlace her boots and remove them. A sigh of relief escaped as she massaged her tired arches. The first raindrops plopped on the tarp over them. The wind whistled through the tops of the trees, but they were sheltered from the worst of it. It definitely blew from a more northerly direction.

  Digging in her pack, Stacey hunted out food for supper. Nutrition bars, a pack of dates, and some honey-roasted pecans would have to do. She divided the food equally and heard Cord blow out the canned fuel.

  “Here. Take the first cup,” Cord ordered as he offered it to her.

  Because she was desperate for the caffeine, she accepted and ignored his tone. “Okay. I’ve got our supper—unless you’d rather have one of your power bars.” She held his half of the food out and he took it with a nod. After taking a few sips of the warm, strong coffee, Stacey extended the cup to him. “Why don’t we share? I feel like a heel drinking it in front of you.”

  Cord quietly palmed the cup, drank, and handed it back. “The dates are good.” It was a cold, flat statement.

  “I grew them myself,” she replied in a similar sounding tone. Stacey hoped to break his current mood, maybe make him smile, but couldn’t loosen him up at all. She sipped again and then passed him the cup.

  “I don’t think so,” he told her as he handed back the nearly empty tin cup.

  “What? You doubt my word? I’m wounded,” Stacey tried harder to get a smile out of him. Otherwise, it would be a long night. She and the search and rescue guys usually got through long evenings like this by swapping stories, playing word games, or just kidding around. Usually she could make friends with the shyest and most reserved of the men, but Cord wasn’t cooperating.

  “You’re also wasting your time,” he said, allowing no emotion to enter his voice.

  “I don’t understand,” Stacey was becoming angry. “What have I done to you? Why do you have to be so—so cold? Would it hurt to be civil?”

  “Maybe you would rather I come over there and show you just how friendly I can be. Is that how you and the search teams keep warm and pass the time?” Cord regretted it the moment he heard himself say it, but he needed to keep her away somehow. This should do it.

  “Now, you’re wasting your time, Mr. McConnell,” Stacey managed in a low, icy tone. What she really wanted to do was boil him in oil. “I’d rather go back and play with the bear.” Controlling herself, she tossed the empty cup to him instead of throwing it at his head. Turning away she moved her pack, picked up her trash, and crawled between her blankets. Facing away from him, she took slow steady breaths.

  Cord almost apologized, but decided it might be better to leave things this way. She would definitely avoid any friendly overtures from now on. He relit the can of solid fuel and heated water for the second cup of coffee. Maybe hot coffee would help the chill deep in the pit of his stomach. As the wind and rain became more intense, he decided that it would be safe to forego his usual patrols for a while. Great—that meant more time listening to her soft breathing and smelling her hair. Forcing himself to concentrate on the sound of the wind in the trees, he finally dozed off to sleep.

  * * * * *

  Around midnight Cord woke to the sound of moaning. Instantly awake with his pistol in hand, he realized it was Stacey moaning and muttering across from him. She seemed to be dreaming. As she grew more agitated and louder, he slid from his blankets and moved toward her. When she suddenly began to scream, he struggled to silence her. A scream would carry a long way in the night and he couldn’t chance her being heard.

  “Stacey, wake up. It’s all right. You’re dreaming.” With one hand over her mouth, Cord used his other hand and shook her shoulder to wake her. Her eyes flew open and for a minute he thought she would fight him before she relaxed back against her blanket. Cord felt moisture on the hand covering her mouth and knew she was crying. He moved it away slowly.

  “Ah, Stacey. Don’t,” he growled in his throat then pulled her up to hold her against his chest and stroke her hair. He discovered touching her was a big mistake as his body reacted to her nearness. He ignored it the best he could as he comforted her. Stacey cried silently into his chest and he hugged her closer whispering nonsense into her ear.

  Sniffling, she asked, “Those boys—do you think—are they okay? It’s so—wet—and cold and...”

  “There isn’t anything we can do about them right now. They’re young and strong. They should get by,” he tried to answer her without lying to her. Cord stroked her wild, soft hair back from her face. She didn’t seem inclined to pull away and he continued to hold her in spite of his body’s growing desire. Mind over certain matters only worked for so long.

  “I dreamed about—my brother, Sammy. He was—” she took a ragged breath, “just sixteen. Like the oldest boy.”

  “What happened to him?” Cord asked her gently.

  “He became confused in a May snowstorm near the top of Saddleback Mountain—got separated from his group. Search and rescue couldn’t find him. My dad finally brought in a special man—a tracker—who found his body—brought him home.”

  “How old were you?” Cord knew his behavior was to blame for the nightmare. He upset her and it manifested into nightmares. He wanted to kick himself, but he would let her talk instead.

  “Fourteen. I was in shock for weeks.” Stacey wasn’t crying as much, but an occasional tear still slipped down her cheek. “I wanted to go camping with them, but Sammy didn’t want me along. He made a big deal out of it being a guy thing. It made me so mad I didn’t even say goodbye to him. I never...” her voice trailed off as she shook her head against his chest.

  “Is that why you do this?” After a minute, he felt her nod, slowly. So, she was driven by memories, too.

  Finally, Stacey pulled back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—cry on you.” Using both her hands, she swiped her face and pushed her hair back, nervously avoiding his eyes.

  “Stacey.”

  Hearing her name made her pause and look up at the rough features she could barely see in the dark. “What?” she whispered as she saw the intense heat in his deep brown eyes.

  “Shut-up,” he growled. Catching the back of her head in his huge hand he lowered his mouth to hers.

  At first, she stiffened against him in surprise, but his hot, searching lips created such a need in her she found herself moving closer. As he let her feel his loneliness and need through the kiss, her arms crept up around his neck and she began to respond.

  Cord urged her closer and groaned as her thermal clad breasts pressed to his own thinly covered chest. At the sound of his groan, she gave up to his kiss completely. His hands moved over the slim curves of her waist and he shifted to press her back on the blanket. The kisses became deeper and more intense. Cord slid his hand under her shirt to stroke the bare skin of her stomach.

  The feel of his hand on her bare skin startled her and she realized what was happening. Sliding her hands between them, she pushed on his chest. “No. Cord, please. I can’t.” Pushing more firmly, she insisted a little louder, “Stop. I’m sorry�
�please stop.”

  Cord became still against her then rolled away slowly. “Give me a minute,” he grunted as he took short quick gasps of air. He remained unmoving until his breathing became more even. Then he shifted back to his own bedroll. Cursing, he told her softly, “I should never have touched you. I knew what would happen. It won’t happen again.” He struggled to build the fences back that allowed him to keep his distance. He should have known she wouldn’t want him. That was why he stuck to a certain type of woman. Cold, sophisticated leeches that knew the score, took what he offered in exchange for being with him a while, then moved on to the next guy. A fresh-faced, young girl like Stacey wouldn’t want to be with a scarred up old soldier like him.

  “Wait, Cord.” Stacey could feel him withdrawing back into the cold hard shell her nightmare broke through. “I’m not—offended or upset. I just don’t know you well enough for—well, to sleep with you.”

  “I understand. Don’t try to explain.” The flat, emotionless tone she hated was back.

  “I could just smack you,” Stacey grumbled as she grabbed her boots and stuffed her feet into them. She threw on the lightweight rain jacket she laid out earlier. She didn’t care that it was raining steadily as she crawled out from under the tree.

  “Where are you going?” Cord snapped.

  “Where you’re not!” She hurried away into the darkness. If she didn’t get some space between them, she would explode. Stacey considered herself pretty even-tempered, but Cord definitely put her on the verge of a tantrum. Muttering angrily the entire time, she walked in circles then returned to pace near the tree housing their camp. “First cold, then friendly, then cold, then hot, then cold again. Why can’t he just treat me like a normal human being? The other guys I work with don’t have this problem,” she fumed as she stomped back and forth. “What did I do to deserve this?”