Danger at the Border

by Terri Reed

  Maybe deep down in places she hated to examine, she was lonely.

  But crushing after only a few hours with him was absurd. She didn’t want to be attracted to Agent Steele. She wanted to be professional, to earn his respect. But being shot at and forced to hide in the woods weren’t exactly circumstances that led to professionalism.

  Frustrated with herself, she used more force than necessary to unzip the duffel and retrieve her lightweight hoodie. She yanked it over her head, thankful for the extra layer of warmth.

  A rustling in the bushes off to the right drew her focus. The leaves of the shrubs danced. Something moved through the brush. Something bigger than a chipmunk. A lot bigger. A knot of dread tightened her chest. “Something’s in there.”

  Jeff touched her arm and whispered, “Behind the trees.”

  He motioned to their left, where a grouping of alder grew together, their trunks nearly touching, their branches interwoven in an embrace. They hurried behind the shelter of the tree trunks.

  Tessa held her breath. Her heart slammed against her ribs. Was it a cougar? Were they being stalked? Or was the predator in the bushes something even more dangerous than an animal protecting its territory?

  THREE

  A loud guttural noise emanated from the rustling bushes. Alarm zipped through Jeff and raised the hair on his arms. He tucked Tessa safely at his back as they took refuge behind a stand of alder trees. He searched for a weapon other than his sidearm. Shooting an animal would be his last resort.

  The large brown head of a bear poked over the top of the bushes.

  “It’s a grizzly.” Jeff’s stomach sank like a rock in the lake. “What’s he doing here?”

  The creature stomped through the brush, snapping limbs and branches like toothpicks. Dark eyes stared in their direction. Jeff moved farther behind the tree, trying to keep as little of himself visible as possible.

  The bear rose onto its back legs, making the beast well over eight feet tall. He lifted his nose in the air.

  “My bag,” Tessa whispered. “I have a can of bear spray.”

  Of course she did. Part of her essentials. Bless her preparedness.

  He slipped the strap of her duffel off and laid it on the ground at her feet.

  She dug around in the bag and then handed him a long, slender canister. “Here.”

  The spray consisted of hot red pepper and could shoot up to twenty feet. An effective deterrent in the case of an attack. Jeff hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He held the can nozzle out, his finger hovering over the button. He kept his gaze to the left of the bear so the animal was in his peripheral vision.

  Making eye contact could be perceived as a challenge. He didn’t want to give the creature any reason to charge.

  Tessa clutched the back of his shirt. “Should we climb the tree?”

  “Bears can climb, too,” he said softly in a neutral tone. If the bear heard them talking, he didn’t want the beast to sense any panic.

  “Not grizzlies.”

  “I wouldn’t want to risk my life on that myth,” he said. “I saw a YouTube video of a young grizzly that climbed fifty feet up a fir tree.”

  Her hand tightened on his shirt, pulling the fabric taut against his chest, much like the band of anxiety squeezing his lungs. “Then what?”

  “We wait and hope he goes away?” he quipped, not sure what their move should be. He rested his free hand on his holstered gun. Taking down a bear with his Heckler & Koch P2000 service weapon wasn’t impossible, just improbable. Not the best scenario.

  “Please, Lord, make the bear go away,” Tessa prayed aloud.

  “Amen to that,” he said.

  The bear dropped back to all fours, his nose going to the ground. No doubt sniffing their trail, looking for his next meal.

  Tension balled in Jeff’s gut. “Do you have any snack bars left?”

  “A few of them,” Tessa said. “What are you thinking?”

  “A distraction.”

  “You shouldn’t feed the bear. He could get sick from human food.”

  “Would you rather he got sick off this human food?” He bumped his fist against his chest. She shook her head vehemently, her eyes wide with fear. “Do you have a better idea?”

  She grabbed four bars from her pack. “Here.”

  “Trade places with me.” Jeff stepped back to allow Tessa to slip in front of him. “Hold the spray. If he moves any closer, use it.”

  She nodded, her red curls bobbing softly. She’d lost her hat somewhere along the way. The elastic band holding back her hair had slipped almost all the way off. Hugging the tree, she gripped the can with one hand.

  Quietly, he slit open the top of the bars, then chucked them to the right behind the bear. The food crashed through the bushes. The bear swung around with a growl. He pawed the ground. Waited a moment, then cantered off in the direction of Tessa’s snacks.

  Jeff snatched up Tessa’s bag, grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the tree. They hustled in the opposite direction of the grizzly, moving quickly yet trying hard not to make much noise.

  Every broken twig, every crunch of dried leaves beneath their feet rang out like the discordant notes of a gong calling the grizzly to his dinner feast. They continued onward, keeping parallel to the toxic runoff, but staying where the trees and bushes provided some cover.

  Twenty minutes later, Tessa tugged her hand free from Jeff’s. “I don’t think he followed us.”

  Jeff drew to a halt and listened. The noises of the forest whispered over him. A bird flapping its wings in the trees. The rustle of branches in the early-evening breeze. And an out-of-place humming sound.

  “Do you hear that?” Jeff asked Tessa.

  “The buzzing? What is it? Bees?”

  “I don’t think so.” He strained to listen. “It’s more electrical-sounding.”

  “Like a generator,” Tessa stated. “Does the Customs and Border Patrol use generators for the equipment you have out here?”

  “Some are powered by generators and some use solar energy.”

  “Then one of the video cameras could be close by.” Excitement lit her eyes. “We could find it and signal for help.”

  “Brilliant idea.”

  She gazed at him with an eager, expectant look in her gold-flecked eyes. “So, where are they?”

  He laughed. “Like I have every location memorized?”

  She made a face and brushed her hair back. “One could hope.”

  Jeff flexed his fingers to keep from reaching over to wrap a corkscrew curl around his finger. He’d always found ringlets appealing.

  He gave himself a mental slap on the back of the head. They were here to do a job, not to explore the attraction arcing between them. Oh, yeah, he’d noticed the appreciative flicker in her eyes when she’d been sizing him up when they met. And she’d blushed so prettily when he’d acknowledged what she was doing. He’d like to see her blush again.

  His gaze dropped to her lush lips. He wondered what she’d do if he kissed her.

  Whoa! Back up. That wasn’t going to happen. They were in the middle of the woods, running from gunmen and a bear. This was no place to be thinking about kisses.

  “Let’s keep moving,” he said as much to himself as to her. “Hopefully, we’re far enough away from the grizzly to avoid drawing his attention back to us. But we need to make some noise to keep from startling any other predators that might be in the area.”

  “I can’t hold a tune, so singing’s out,” Tessa said as she fell into step with him.

  Liking her pluck, he chuckled. “Good to know. Talking will suffice. Did you grow up in Chicago?”

  She flashed him a rueful look. “I did. A few blocks off the lake on the north side of town.”

  “I’ve never been to Chic
ago. Is it worth visiting?”

  “It’s a lovely city.” She went on to tell him all the many reasons he should take a trip to the Windy City. He liked listening to her voice. The melodic tone was soothing. He detected a hint of an accent in the way she dropped her th sound in the and replaced it with a d. So the lake became d’lake. The accent became more pronounced the longer they traveled. A clear sign of her fatigue.

  The forest deepened, the trees growing more dense, shutting out the setting sun. Time seemed suspended. Sweat broke out on Jeff’s back despite the dropping temperature. The electrical humming sound remained a background noise like an annoying mosquito, underscoring the chirp of birds, the ticking of insects. The vibrating noise wasn’t necessarily growing louder, but not quieter, either.

  Whatever was making the humming wasn’t a small generator attached to a video camera. He wouldn’t stake his life or Tessa’s on the belief that finding the source of the sound would bring them anything but trouble. Like the toxin, it was out of place, an intrusion that shouldn’t be there in the forest. A possible danger. One that may or may not prove to be deadly.

  “Shouldn’t we have hit the fire road by now?” Tessa asked, the strain of the afternoon trembling in her voice. Or was that a shiver from the cold?

  All around them the world turned from bright and vibrant colors to monochrome grays as the waning light of dusk slowly and surely disappeared.

  “We have to have traveled twenty miles by now.”

  He hated to disappoint her but he’d guess more like six miles. He kept that to himself. He checked the time on his phone. They’d been in the woods for nearly seven hours. And unfortunately still no cell service.

  She stumbled on an exposed root.

  He clamped his hand around her elbow. “You okay?”

  She took a deep breath and straightened. “I’m good.”

  The woman wouldn’t admit to any weakness. He let go and admired her willingness to endure. So much for his assumption that she was too high maintenance for the outdoors.

  They trudged on as the oppressive darkness closed in around them. A wolf howled. Uncomfortably close. The glacial air invading the forest seeped through his shirt.

  Hiking at night wasn’t wise, especially as the terrain climbed, making the going more arduous. They didn’t have a trail to follow through the dense foliage. Despite keeping up the constant dialogue, they could easily startle a wary animal in the dark or stumble over a fallen branch. “We need to stop and make camp until daylight.”

  “Shouldn’t we keep going? The fire road can’t be that far. I have a flashlight and headlamp.”

  Of course she did. “Not a good idea. It’s getting colder, a wind has picked up and even with light it’s dangerous out here at night.”

  “Won’t stopping make us sitting ducks?” she asked, her voice rising slightly. “The bad guys aren’t going to stop, are they?”

  “If they’re smart, they are. Though if they’d wanted us dead, they’d have killed us by now. They want us in these woods.”

  “Maybe to give them time to clean up the toxic waste.”

  “That could be it.” Or they were to be made into human targets. In which case, any light would be their enemy. “But injuring ourselves stumbling around in the dark isn’t the only thing we have to worry about. It’s what hunts in the dark. And if we’re moving, we’re prey.”

  “And stopping, we’re not?”

  “Hunkered down, we have a better shot of not being caught unawares.”

  There was the briefest of pauses before she said, “We’ll need to build some sort of windbreak.”

  He shifted her duffel bag. “You wouldn’t happen to have one in here, would you?” The thing weighed heavy across his shoulder.

  “Unfortunately, no. But I do have a raincoat.”

  That would help. “You were smart to bring this. I should have listened to you and packed a bag.”

  “I wish I’d packed more food. We gave the bear the last of my bars,” she said, her voice quiet.

  As if on cue his stomach grumbled. “I can skip a meal or two.”

  “Let’s hope it’s only the one.”

  To their left was the visible outline of a fallen tree stump. He ushered her over to the round chuck of wood and slipped the bag off his shoulder. “Can you check the stump roots to make sure they aren’t wet? I’ll gather some sticks.”

  He walked away in search of some sturdy, full branches to use as a shield against the wind. When he had an armful gathered, he returned to the stump and laid them on the ground. “This should be enough.”

  Working side by side, they quickly created a windbreak from the chilling wind. Soon they had the evergreen tree boughs in place with the raincoat hanging over them, blocking the gusts of frigid air whistling through the trees.

  “There,” Tessa said, wiping her hands on her pants. “I haven’t made one of these since college.”

  “Part of a class?”

  “No, actually, the forestry club. We went nature camping at least twice a year.”

  She was full of surprises. “You have a seat,” he said. “I’ll stand watch.”

  “There’s room for both of us to sit,” she said. “You can keep watch from a seated position, can’t you?”

  The tone in her voice held an edge of challenge. And no doubt if he refused to sit, she’d refuse, too. He sat. She followed suit and tucked her bag between them.

  Armrest or boundary?

  She had nothing to worry about from him. He had no intention of crossing the boundary.

  He may like the fish doctor and, sure, found her attractive and quick-witted and resourceful and generally good company, but a budding romance that had nowhere to go and would only end in heartache wasn’t on his agenda.

  Despite how self-reliant and independent Tessa was, she struck him as the type of woman who wanted a happily-ever-after. He didn’t believe such a thing existed.

  Despite his parents’ long marriage, he couldn’t say they were happy. But then he’d never asked them if they were.

  Frowning as he turned the thought over in his head, he settled into a semicomfortable position with his back propped against the stump, his hand on the butt of his holstered weapon.

  Not ready to commit to approaching his parents with the question of their happiness, he tucked all thoughts of his family away.

  Getting to safety and putting a stop to the water pollutant were his priorities. Until he knew this situation wasn’t going to turn into an international crisis, he had to bring on his A-game. That meant staying alert and ignoring his attraction to the woman beside him or thoughts of marriage or family or happily-ever-afters.

  The sound of Tessa’s jacket scraping along the tree roots as she moved to a more comfortable position brought his attention to the moment. She was a trouper, that was for sure. Not one complaint about being cold or tired or uncomfortable. His respect for her continued to grow.

  She shifted again. Her head came to rest against his biceps.

  His blood pressure spiked. He gritted his teeth. Not for the life of him would he shake her off.

  She jerked upright. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You’re welcome to use my shoulder as a pillow.”

  “No, we should stay awake.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure Ranger Harris and the sheriff have a search party out looking for us. We’ll make it back to civilization long before we starve or freeze to death.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.” There was a smile in her voice.

  Though her face was shadowed, there was enough ambient light for him to see the fatigue around her eyes and in the tightness of her shoulders.

  “Tell me about Seattle,” she said, her voice low. “I hear it rains all the time.”

  He laughed. “T
hat’s just something we tell people so they don’t move there.”

  “What? It’s not true?”

  “No,” he admitted. “But neither is Seattle the wettest city in the U.S. The Southeast gets more rain than the Pacific Northwest.”

  “Really? That seems odd.”

  He explained about a study he’d recently read. They debated the finer points of living where it rained versus snowed like where she resided in Utah.

  “We get some snow where I live in Blaine,” he commented. “Though it makes a mess of the traffic going in and out of the country when it happens.”

  “I can imagine.” She yawned. He let the silence envelop them. He hoped she’d rest. Slowly, his senses adjusted to the nocturnal sounds, keenly in tune to the world around them, on the alert for any threat, both the two-legged kind and the four-legged kind.

  * * *

  “Tessa.” Jeff’s voice forced her eyes open.

  She shook off sleep to listen to the high-pitched whistles of marmots, several of them if the racket they were making was any indication. Underscoring the squirrellike creatures’ calls was the drumming of a nearby grouse, a chickenlike bird that inhabited the subarctic regions of the northern hemisphere. The rapping of a woodpecker added to the cacophony.

  The first fingers of dawn crept through the tree branches, stinging her retinas and stirring her guilt. She’d fallen asleep, left Jeff to keep watch. “I’m so sorry!”

  “No worries,” his deep voice rumbled.

  Slowly, her gaze shifted to where he stood, tall and intimidating with his hand outstretched. His uniform was dirty and disheveled, but nothing could take away from his rugged good looks. Her eyes met his stunning blue ones. Eyes she could get lost in. Her heart picked up speed, setting off an alarm bell inside her head.

  She’d spent too much of her life displaced at the whims of her parents, then her ex-fiancé, Michael. He’d wanted to meld and mold her into a different person. It had taken all her courage and strength to break his hold on her life before she committed herself to marriage.

  Because unlike her parents, once she married, it would be forever.