At the end of the slope of the hill, an hour later, Shelby stopped. Dakota came soundlessly up behind her. It felt like a warm wave embracing her from behind. She looked to her right, amazed at how silently he could move. His face was set, gaze scanning the area down below them. “This guy is moving out. And he knows where he’s going. He’s got an objective in mind.”
“Yeah,” Dakota growled, “but where? The wife said he did a lot of birding in this area and knew it well.” He gestured to the steep slope that led down into an even thicker area of woodlands. Taking out his map, he had her hold two edges of it. “About ten miles ahead, there’s a meadow. I’m hoping we can find him alive. If we do, we can get him to that meadow where a helo could come in and pick us up.”
Shelby was no stranger to reading a topographical map. “Our GPS is putting us in a northern trek with Tony.” She shook her head. “I’d swear he knows where he is.”
“Maybe. Remember, the wife said he’d walk ten or fifteen miles a day with his camera and binos, binoculars, because he was a birder.”
Shelby absorbed Dakota’s overwhelming male nearness. She tried to ignore the desire banked in his brown eyes that seem to burn right through her heart and lower body. When he’d kissed her earlier, she’d seen gold in the depths of them, too. Her mouth continued to tingle off and on from his hungry kiss. “It’s 11:00 a.m.,” she muttered. “And if his track continues toward that meadow, it’s a long way from here to there.”
Tracking was an art coupled with a lot of patience. Dakota nodded. “We can’t just assume he’s heading there, though.” He gestured to the darkening woods in front of them. “This area has heavy woods. We’re going to have to be careful and watch to see if his tracks don’t suddenly peel off in another direction.”
“Yeah, the depressions are getting more and more shallow. It will be easy to miss a print.”
“That’s because the needles are drying out.”
“Damn.” Shelby sighed, studying the map one more time. It was hard, slow work if pine needles completely dried out. They would be forced to slow down even more and start looking for one or two pine needles being turned the wrong way to indicate someone had stepped on them. “This isn’t good.”
“Not for him, it isn’t.”
Shelby glanced up. “I wish like hell we didn’t have this kind of tree cover. I wish we had a military helo available with thermal imaging on board to detect his body heat. I just feel like he’s going to die.”
He reached out and slid his hand across her shoulders. “I know. But that kind of helo isn’t available.”
Shelby folded the map and handed it back to Dakota. They’d already made six miles into the forest following him. There were patches of snow on the ground along with only a few open areas. Early June weather meant a mix of rain, sleet, snow and sunshine. A few slats of light made their way down to the ground, bright yellow spots in the gloom of the forest. “Can you track for a while?”
“Yes.” He took the lead. It was going to be a long, hard day as spring storm clouds continued to gather around them. The rangers had warned the volunteer group this morning that a swift moving cold front would sweep through the area at sunset. And that was bad news for Tony Banyon.
* * *
DUSK WAS FALLING and the storm chased them. Shelby couldn’t hide her frustration that they still hadn’t found Tony. All afternoon, they’d called out his name about every quarter mile. They would stop, hoping to hear a reply. Nothing. The sky was a gunmetal gray, the winds blowing hard and sharp. Spits of sleet already began to cover the area. Dakota called a halt to their search because it was getting too dark to track. Shelby reluctantly agreed.
They were a mile from the meadow. Dakota had already picked out an area of heavy brush that would give them protection against the growing gusts of wind. She helped by clearing the space with a long, fallen branch, smoothing it out for their tent. Her stomach growled with hunger.
Dakota finished off the radio transmission with HQ, giving them their GPS coordinates. They would stay and ride out the storm. He turned and saw that Shelby had chosen a good place for their tent.
“This is a fast-moving storm,” he warned her. “Weather guy just said it will hit this area right now.”
Shelby straightened. “It’s already starting.”
“He said the storm should clear off by tomorrow morning,” Dakota growled. “The snow is going to cover Tony’s tracks. We’ll make a best guess tomorrow morning and then head toward the direction of the meadow as soon as we get enough light.” His mouth turned grim. “I hope we run into him.” It would be too late, but he didn’t say it. He could see the truth on Shelby’s face.
“Yes, first light,” she whispered. “It’s the best anyone can do under the circumstances.”
Opening the ruck, Dakota pulled out the desert camouflage tent. He wished he could somehow ease her worry. Shelby was the type of person who cared deeply about everything and everyone. His job right now was to get her mind off the man who was lost somewhere out beyond them. He tossed her some of the stakes that would keep the tent from flying away in the gusts of wind.
For the next ten minutes, they worked quickly and without speaking. Darkness was falling rapidly now. Shelby straightened, studying the tent. “This is military issue?”
“Yeah. SEAL stuff. What? You’re looking at it like it’s not very protective?”
She saw the shadows on his face as he knelt at the front and opened the Velcro flaps. “No,” she said slowly, “I’m thinking that it’s cramped. How do you get two people in there?” Her heart started a slight pound as she considered his closeness in such a confined space. Until this moment, her mind and heart had been on Tony and his situation.
“You do,” he said. “This is cold winter gear. SEALs sleep two to a tent because body warmth will keep them from freezing to death.” Looking up, he pointed toward the tops of the trees around them. “We’re going to get hammered tonight with heavy, wet snow. The temperature will drop below zero.” Her brows moved down as she stared with a question in her eyes.
“Are you going to have nightmares tonight? Turn over and think I’m the enemy?”
It was a fair question. Dakota pulled over his rucksack. He took out two MREs. Opening his jacket, he pulled two magnesium tablets from one of the pockets of his H-gear. “You have a choice,” he told her quietly, gesturing for her to come over and sit down with him and eat beneath the protection of the overhanging tree limbs.
Shelby brought her pack over and sat down cross-legged on the pine needles. It was almost dark. Their breaths turned to white vapor as the temperature fell rapidly. Dakota expertly set the MREs on two small metal grates and lit the magnesium tablets beneath them. He’d already cleared the area so no fire could start as a result. Rubbing her gloved hands together, she said, “What are my choices?”
Hitching a thumb toward the tent, Dakota rasped, “If you’re worried I’ll try to kill you in there during the throes of a nightmare, I’ll sleep over there.” He pointed to a group of bushes that would provide protection against the wind and snow. How he hoped she wouldn’t ask him to leave. He understood her wariness but he’d never wanted a woman more than Shelby. He could feel his body turning traitor on him, his massive control dissolving in the heat of his need to feel her warm, firm body against his flesh. His mind just wouldn’t stop. Nightmares be damned. Shelby had fractured the massive wall he’d hidden behind. Dakota had no answer for why or how she did. Only that she did. It left him starved for her, shaky, needy and his control slipping by the minute as they sat together. He prayed she’d take the first choice. She had to.
Shelby could barely see the outline of heavy bushes near the tent. The magnesium tabs were so bright, it was like sudden sunlight piercing the dark, ruining her night vision. She stared into his hooded eyes. Her body responded with aching need to that heated look. “What’s my other choice?”
“Let me lie with you, love you and we’ll spend the night in each other
’s arms. I promise, we won’t be cold....”
The words, barely above a whisper, flowed hotly through her. She stared at him. His eyes were hard and intelligent, his mouth pursed. The beard had deepened and accentuated his high cheekbones, strong nose and full mouth. “You’re serious?” she asked.
A slight twitch pulled at the left corner of his mouth. “Never more serious.”
Her eyes widened momentarily. Just say yes, Shel. He’d willingly sleep outside in his specially made sleeping bag and survive nicely out in the coming snowstorm. And he didn’t want her to decide based on worry he’d freeze to death. He knew her well enough to know because she cared so deeply, she’d make a poor choice. He was hoping his bluntness would scare her enough to make the right decision.
“Wouldn’t you freeze out here?” She gestured toward the brush.
“No, Shelby. I took winter training up at Kodiak Island, off Alaska. We were out in the rain, snow and cold for three weeks. Trust me, I can survive any kind of storm conditions.” He watched her consider the situation. There was no question he wanted her. The real question was: did she want him?
“I’ll think about it,” she muttered. “Are those MREs hot enough to eat? I’m starving to death.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
COLD SLEET BEGAN to pummel the area as they quickly finished eating their MREs. Shelby stared through the near darkness at Dakota. “You know I don’t want you out in this miserable weather,” she said.
“Don’t worry about me tonight, I’m tired.” It was the truth. But right then his body caught a sudden burst of energy. Desperate energy. Why hadn’t Shelby taken the first choice? He surrendered inwardly. Maybe it was a year’s worth of being alone and lonely that snapped his control where she was concerned. Maybe...just one night...just one and he’d get her out of his blood. “I figured you’d choose door number two. You have such a soft heart, Shel. You feel sorry for any poor son of a bitch. Even me.” It was more truth than teasing. No one needed a broken, scarred vet in her life. He’d only make it more miserable.
Shelby muttered defiantly, mouth quirking, “You’re such a bastard, Carson.”
He came over and smiled down at her. All around them the sleet continued to thicken, the sound like tiny pebbles striking the limbs and pine branches. “It worked, didn’t it?”
She could see the fatigue in his eyes. “Yes. And you’re getting your ass into that tent. I refuse to lie awake worrying about you out in this crappy weather.”
Without hesitation, he got down on his knees, opened his sleeping bag and pushed it inside the cramped quarters. “You’re such a marshmallow, Shel.”
His shoulders were broad and she could literally feel the heat rolling off his body as she knelt beside him and pushed her sleeping bag into the tight space. “Yes, I am,” she said. “But so are you.”
He barely twisted a humored look in her direction. The chips of ice had stuck to strands of her hair. “No, not me. Somehow, soft and SEAL aren’t synonymous. No one has ever called us marshmallows, either.”
Laughing, Shelby turned around, leaned back on her heels as she opened her pack to locate food. “They both start with an s, smart guy. You put on this fierce, tough front, but in the end, you have a big heart, Dakota.”
His eyes narrowed intently upon her. Instantly, she felt that stalking energy around him. The night was nearly complete. “For example,” she went on conversationally, pulling out two protein bars, “you saved Storm. You could have let that grizzly finish the job, but you put yourself in jeopardy by standing your ground. The bear would have known Storm was hiding in that burrow.”
“Get inside,” he growled, gesturing to the opening in the tent. “We don’t need to chat out here and get wet if we don’t have to.”
Shelby grinned as she moved into the tent. She caught the glint of acknowledgment in his eyes regarding her argument. The two bags were right next to each other, the tent high enough to sit up in, but that was all. Dakota dragged in their packs and stowed them at the door after he squeezed his bulk into the tent. The Velcro on the openings were quickly closed. The pelting of the ice crystals continued. She handed him a protein bar after he sat cross-legged on top of his bag.
“Dessert?”
She was dessert, but he didn’t say it. “Thanks,” he said instead, taking the bar. As they touched fingers, he relished their brief contact.
Just then, Shelby’s radio went off. She pulled it out of her pocket and answered it.
Dakota listened to the conversation, his brow dipping over the news. When she placed the radio above her head and near the sleeping bag, Dakota saw the concerned look on her face. She pushed the hood back, her hair mussed. “So, someone identified Vance Welton?”
The tent became warm very quickly, and Shelby unzipped her coat and shrugged out of it. She would use it as a pillow later. “Yes. Good thing Cade had photos of those guys put on television. It worked.”
He could barely see Shelby, but he could feel her. Unconsciously, he inhaled her feminine scent. “How are you feeling about this development?”
“Considering it was my neighbor who saw him walking by my house, shaken,” she admitted, unhappy. Shelby busied herself by untying the laces to her boots and shoving them off her feet. Getting on her hands and knees, she placed them at the end of the tent, near the entrance. She sat cross-legged once more, facing Dakota. “It bothers me a lot. I’m just glad my mom and dad decided to leave town until this is over.” A cold shiver made its way up her spine.
Hearing the edge in her voice, he added, “Shel, we’re going to find them and we’re going to put them back behind bars where they belong.”
“Count on it,” she said. “I’m more worried about the women in town, Dakota. These guys are rapists and murderers. They’re loose, like wild animals.”
“Tomorrow,” he assured her, “at first light, we’ll start working our way toward the meadow and hope we run into Tony.” It would snow all night and there was no way they could find him in the dark as a snarling storm whipped around them. They could get lost and die of hypothermia themselves. Under any other conditions, Dakota would have pushed on through the night trying to find the man.
“I wish we could do more to help Tony, but I know we can’t. It’s depressing.” She finished off her power bar and located her canteen by touch. Opening it, Shelby drank deeply. The cold water soothed her anxiety about the radio call. “I can hear the worry in Cade’s voice. He’s thinking what we’re talking about. No woman is safe with them prowling around,” she said.
Dakota savagely pushed down his grief over his sister’s death. “And we need to assume that Hartley is around, too. They worked as a team last time. It would be stupid to think Welton is working alone.”
Capping her canteen, Shelby shoved it in a corner. “Where are they staying? That’s what we need to find out.”
“A better question is, did they steal another vehicle? Is someone missing a car or truck in Jackson Hole?”
“It’s the right question to ask,” she agreed. “It could give us a lead, a place where they might be hiding.” The heat in the tent amazed her. She shed her sweater, down to a silk camisole. Modesty no longer an issue, Shelby shed her jeans and stuffed them down at the entrance along with her boots. With thick socks on her feet, her silk briefs and camisole, she pulled open her down sleeping bag, slid down inside it and faced him. She was glad Dakota was with her. Shelby felt fearful even though she knew the convicts were fifty miles away. Tomorrow, they had to return to Jackson Hole after, hopefully, finding Tony. Shelby knew she’d be anxious and alert going back home.
After finishing his protein bar, Dakota shrugged out of his winter gear and stripped down to his boxer shorts. He rolled the coat into a makeshift pillow. Wildly aware of Shelby’s nearness, he reined in his desire for her. Right now she was worried and she had a right to be because Welton and Hartley were trying to find her. He could hear the veiled nervousness in her husky voice. She was struggling not to be a
ffected by the news, but hell, she was human. And she’d already seen the carnage these two convicts caused up front and close before.
“Comfy?” he asked her.
“Yes. It’s incredibly warm in here. This is an amazing SEAL tent you have!”
“The SEALs get the best of everything,” he told her. “This sleeping bag is a product of the best minds around the world creating it for us so we could survive minus forty below if we had to.” He opened it and slid in, using the Velcro to close it up to retain his body heat. After punching the jacket into a pillow, he lay down, facing Shelby. He could smell her damp hair and could hear her soft breathing. So close. Shelby was inches away from him.
“You guys deserve the best,” she told him.
He reached out, his fingers making contact with her naked shoulder. He felt the warmth of her flesh beneath his callused fingertips, and it sent a keening ache through him. “Listen, stop worrying, Shel. We’re going to find these gomers.” He grazed her damp hair. Nostrils flaring, he inhaled her scent, honey mixed with pine. The combination was like an aphrodisiac to him, sending a sheet of fire burning through his hardening lower body. Her brow was wrinkled beneath his exploring thumb and he gently smoothed out the lines. “Go to sleep. I’m here....”
She closed her eyes. Dakota filled the tent with his size. She felt his protection like a warm blanket, erasing her fears and worry. Exhaustion came over her and the anxiety loosened its grip as she focused on his fingers stroking the curve of her neck and sliding across her shoulder. “Thanks, Dakota. It means a lot.”
Dakota waited until he was sure Shelby was asleep. As tired as he was, he couldn’t sleep. His mind was focused on the fact that Welton had been identified just outside her home. Lying on his back, hands tucked behind his head, he listened to the sleet finally go away to be replaced with soft, huge white snowflakes plopping gently on the sides of their tent. The wind was picking up and he could hear the gusts singing through the Douglas fir. That sound was like a lullaby to him. Despite his hunger for her, in moments, his lashes dropped and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. In the end, the strain upon their physical bodies won out.
The Loner Page 14