by Sharon Dunn
Jordan tilted his head toward the plate of food. “Eat up. Willis wants you in good spirits when he sees you.”
Zane settled back down and took a bite of food.
“How many years has it been, little brother?”
Jordan jumped across the expanse of the tent and shoved the gun under Zane’s chin. “Don’t call me that.”
Zane gently pushed his brother away and shook his head. “That is who you will always be to me.” His voice was filled with compassion, which only seemed to make Jordan angrier.
“Shut up.” Jordan shoved the gun in its holster, then moved across the tent and rolled up the sleeping bag. The tent must belong to Jordan. He seemed to be preparing to not stay in it.
Heather eyed the gun. If her hands were free she was almost close enough to grab it. When she looked over at Zane, he was focused on Jordan’s face and didn’t seem to even notice the gun.
“You’re looking a little ragged, Jordie. How long has it been since you’ve been to Fort Madison or anywhere civilized?” Zane’s voice remained soft, without malice.
Jordan continued to pack up and avoid eye contact with his brother. “I know how to take care of myself.” He spun around to face his older brother. “Only my friends call me Jordie.”
“I didn’t betray you. I don’t know what lies Willis told you, but the truth is that I tried to find you for years.”
Jordan continued to shove his belongings into a bag. Something in the jerky stop and start of his movements suggested Zane’s words had an effect on him.
“Jordan, you’re my little brother. We’re blood.” Zane’s comment made Jordan twitch his head. Zane leaned closer to his brother. “Don’t you remember after we got away from that home? I had your back and you had mine.”
Jordan didn’t respond. Instead, he became more frantic in his packing.
“We had some good times. Sleeping beneath the stars. Eating squirrel meat. You remember that?”
Jordan swung around and put his face very close to Zane’s. “I know what you’re trying to do.”
“I’m not trying to trick you or get away.” Zane tilted his head as his voice faltered. “I only want my brother back.”
“Go ahead and try to grab my gun. I know you were thinking about it.” Jordan’s voice held a note of challenge.
“I wouldn’t do that to you, Jordan. Not to my brother.” Zane never broke off eye contact.
Watching the two men face-to-face was a study in contrasts. The younger was bitter, angry and wild. The older was filled with compassion and calm, showing love for his brother. Heather didn’t know their whole story. What had happened to their biological parents that had cast them out into the world with just each other? She could not begin to imagine, but both of them had chosen different substitute fathers and it had made all the difference in the world.
Their gazes held for a long moment. Zane was not going to grab the gun even though he’d been given the opportunity. She only hoped his choice wouldn’t cost them their lives.
Jordan broke off eye contact. “My brother died seven years ago.”
Zane seemed to collapse in on himself. His shoulders slumped.
Jordan spoke without looking at his brother. “Eat the food and drink some water and don’t think about escaping or untying her. I’ve got a guard posted outside.” He flipped open the tent flap and crawled outside with his stuff.
The look of devastation on Zane’s face was like an arrow through Heather’s heart. She wanted to comfort him, but there was nothing she could say. She shook her head as her own eyes filled with tears.
“I had hoped that he wasn’t too far gone.” He lifted his head and looked at her. He scooted toward her and touched her cheek where a tear rolled down. “Thank you for caring.” His eyes filled with warmth.
She felt a tug on her own heart as any doubt about Zane’s true character washed away. He was a man of integrity and compassion.
“I never had a sibling. I can’t begin to imagine...”
He lifted the container. “Do you want some water?”
She nodded.
He held the container to her lips and tilted it. The cool liquid felt good going down her parched throat.
He leaned toward her, placing the container on the ground. His lips brushed over hers, the moment of contact so fleeting that if the scent of his skin didn’t linger in the air, she might have thought she’d imagined it.
Her heart pounded as affection reflected back through his eyes. “I meant what I said. I’ll get us out of here.”
She understood now that even though he was determined to get them both away from Willis and his men, the one thing Zane would not do was betray or harm his brother. For reasons she could not fathom, Zane still held out hope for Jordan. She prayed that hope would not get them killed.
Shouts of panic burst up from outside the tent, followed by gunfire. Footsteps pounded around the camp, mingled with the sounds of more upheaval and more yelling. Someone shouted something about a bear.
“Now is our chance,” said Zane.
Zane grabbed Heather’s wrists and tried to untie the knots of the rope that bound her. Jordan had taken all the knives and tools they could have used to cut her free. He searched the tent, coming up with a piece of metal. It would have to do. He sawed it across the ropes.
Outside, the gunfire grew farther away.
He finished freeing her. “Stay put.” Using the tent flap as cover he peered outside, scanning the grounds for a moment before he ducked back in. “The guard isn’t there anymore. He must have gone after the bear, too.”
He slipped outside and stopped directly in front of the tent. The gunshots were spread apart and far away, and she thought she recognized the distinctive zing of a long-range rifle. Zane had given her a quick lesson about guns and rifles before they’d left Fort Madison.
Finally Zane moved away from the tent opening and signaled for her to come outside.
Her hand touched the dirt outside the tent as she crawled through. She lifted her head. No sign of Jordan or any of the other men. Zane tapped her shoulder and pointed toward a cluster of trees. Now she saw the plaid pattern of a flannel shirt nearly camouflaged by the evergreen boughs. Some men were still in the camp, still watching. The tracking dog remained in the middle of the camp, tied up and barking wildly. A boy emerged from the trees, untied the dog and pulled him back toward the cover of the forest, probably planning to use the dog to track the bear.
One of the men sprinted through the camp. Heather pressed closer to the tent, but the man didn’t notice them. She didn’t see Jordan anywhere.
Zane headed around the backside of the tent and she fell in behind him. There was no clear trail to follow. Zane seemed to know where he was going as he raced through the forest. The gunshots behind them died away.
They ran some distance until Zane stopped and abruptly led them in a different direction. She had to trust that he knew where they were going. Her own navigation skills would only get them lost.
After they had sprinted for some time longer over rough terrain, Zane halted. He took a moment to catch his breath before he said anything. “There’s an ATV around here. I covered it with pine boughs.” He paced in one direction and then the other.
“Maybe we shouldn’t waste time trying to find it,” she said. Her gaze darted everywhere. She expected to see or hear Willis’s men at any second.
“I can get you down to the river and across that other bridge much faster if we have it. It’s a straight shot back to Fort Madison from there. Then I can come back up and try to extract Jordan.”
Jordan clearly had no interest in leaving the group, but she understood why Zane wouldn’t give up on his brother. So Zane’s plan was to get her to safety and then put himself back in the line of fire, all for a little brother who has jus
t stabbed him in the heart.
“I’ll help you find it.” For Zane, for the love he showed a brother, she would risk the loss of time in looking for the ATV.
Zane studied the silhouette of the mountain in the distance as though that would help him pinpoint the location of the vehicle.
“This way.” He took off again running with intensity. She hurried behind him just as the distant baying of the dog landed on her eardrums. Now they were being tracked again. The past two days had already shown that these men were not going to give up easily. Willis must have some kind of sick psychological hold on them to make them so relentless and determined.
Heather pushed her legs to run faster. Her life depended on it. She did not see the unusual formation of pine boughs until they were only a few yards away from it. At a distance, no one would guess an ATV was hidden underneath.
Zane threw pine boughs to one side with a frantic strength and speed. She stepped in and helped uncover the one thing that gave them a chance against the men who were after them.
From time to time, the dog’s persistent baying and barking erupted in the forest, a noise that made her chest tight.
Zane jumped on the ATV and started it. She got on behind him. He pushed the vehicle to its maximum speed as they bumped over the rough terrain. Twice they caught air. She held on tight, pressing her face against his shoulder.
Snow started to fall out of the sky again. Lazy, dizzy flakes twirling in the sky at first, but then the wind picked up and the snow seemed to come at them sideways. She huddled even closer to Zane, knowing that he was getting the brunt of the wind. They both were dressed for cold weather but she had lost her hat somewhere along the way. She pulled the hood of her jacket up over her head. Then she noticed Zane had no gloves. Steering the ATV in the cold and snow without them had to be miserable.
She tapped on his shoulder.
He brought the ATV to an idle. Snow stabbed her skin like a thousand tiny swords. She pulled her gloves off and draped them over his shoulder.
“They might be a little small.”
He took the gloves and buttoned the top button on his coat. “Thanks. Pink is my color.”
She managed to laugh, appreciating that he found humor despite the tension and fear hounding them.
Still, it didn’t take long for apprehension to return while they sat there, unmoving. She shivered. The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees since they had taken off on the ATV.
Zane revved the engine, and she huddled in close to him, shielding her face as much as possible.
“Put your hands underneath my coat at my sides to keep them warm,” he shouted over his shoulder.
The gesture, though practical, felt a little awkward to her. She slipped her hands beneath his coat, feeling his body heat as she rested them against the warm flannel of his shirt. Gradually, though, she felt herself relax. So much had changed since the previous night when he’d wrapped his arms around her at the fire to keep her warm. She knew Zane in a deeper way now. She saw him for who he really was—a good man trying to do the right thing.
Zane took off again. The terrain became even more treacherous as Zane angled the ATV downhill. She lifted her head to see over his shoulder. She couldn’t see any sign of the river and wondered how far they still were.
The ATV slid sideways. Heather wrapped her arms tighter around Zane. He righted the vehicle but brought it to a stop shortly after coasting toward a cluster of trees.
“It’s too slick.” He craned his neck and spoke over his shoulder. “We need to wait this storm out.”
She jumped off the back and stared down the mountain. Going on foot in the storm wouldn’t be a good plan either.
Zane leaned close to look at the gauges on the ATV. “We have enough gas.” Then he glanced up the mountain, a reminder that they were still being hunted even if they didn’t see or hear their pursuers. He tapped the handlebars. “We can cover so much more ground with this.” He tore off the gloves she’d given him and handed them back to her. “I only need them while I’m driving.”
He grabbed a pine bough and placed it over the ATV. She gathered loose branches and helped him conceal the four-wheeler from view.
The wind and the cold had intensified even more by the time he grabbed her hand and led her to the shelter of some trees that formed a natural lean-to.
The overhang of branches made it seem darker as they huddled together for warmth.
She wanted to ask him how far it was to the river, but somehow she knew the answer would only make her feel more discouraged. Instead, she rested her head against his shoulder. The fatigue of having run so far on so little food and sleep, of having been so close to death overtook her. The tears slipped silently down her cheeks.
Doubt clouded her mind. Were they even going to get off this mountain and back to Fort Madison?
EIGHT
Zane stared out at the snow and listened to the wind whirling around and making the tree branches creak. Heather seemed to melt into his shoulder. He sensed that her mind had drifted a million miles from this cold fortress.
When she reached her hand up to swipe at a tear on her cheek, he knew she was falling apart. He couldn’t blame her. He’d seen grown men break down and cry after days of being in the elements, and none of those men had had their lives threatened or had to flee like she had.
The one thing he didn’t want was for her to give up hope. He knew his own strengths and capabilities and he was certain he would be able to take her across that river. And then he would get his brother away from Willis once and for all.
He’d seen Jordan start to soften even in the little bit of interaction they’d had. He had to believe he could get his brother back, mind, body and soul.
He returned his attention to Heather. He had to keep her spirits up or that would sink them faster than the cold or the men who were after them. “What are you thinking about?”
She took a moment to answer. “I was just thinking that if I was back in California right now, I would have just finished teaching my Pilates class. Then I might be getting ready to go for a swim or take my dog out for a run in the warm evening.”
“Warmth. That sounds nice.” He turned toward her. “Heather, I’m so sorry. I know this is way more than you bargained for. It’s way more than anyone could have bargained for.”
“I know you didn’t intend for it to happen.” She stared out at the falling snow. “It’s just a lot to deal with. I don’t see how we’re going to get out of here.”
“We’ll make it.” He wrapped his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. He liked how she seemed to melt against him. When he’d kissed her earlier it had been impulsive. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed it. But they were from different worlds. If they ever got back to those worlds, she would sell the business he loved and go back to the California sunshine she loved. She rested her head on his shoulder. Gradually, she relaxed even more. Her deep breathing told him that she’d fallen asleep. He kept watch and held still, not wanting to wake her.
The snow continued to fall as the sun sank lower in the sky. He had some tough choices to make. If he waited until nighttime, the headlights on the ATV would make them an easy target for anyone tracking them. If they hiked out on foot, they’d be fighting the storm and the clock.
The prudent thing to do would be to head out on the ATV before sunset. There was a risk of them wrecking in the adverse conditions and terrain, but it was a risk he was willing to take. The ATV would get them to safety so much faster.
He closed his own eyes, keeping an ear tuned to his surroundings. When he’d rested for what seemed like twenty minutes, he squeezed Heather’s shoulder. “We need to get moving.”
Her eyes popped open and fear penetrated her voice. “Did they find us?”
“No, we’re fine. But we can’t stay here any lo
nger.”
She nodded and jumped to her feet. Together they uncovered the ATV.
He fired up the machine and got on. She swung her leg over but then pointed at something over his shoulder. “What’s that?”
He turned to look in the direction of her pointing. At first he couldn’t see anything among the evergreens. He squinted. The snowfall made it hard to discern, but it looked like a plume of smoke rising up from the trees.
“Most likely a campfire,” he said.
She leaned toward him so she could speak into his ear above the parump parump noise of the ATV engine. “Do you think it’s them?”
Possible, but it could be hunters out scouting, too. Someone who would be in a position to help them. “We gotta find out,” he said.
The ATV lurched forward and sped down the mountain. Twice they slid sideways. Heather held on and didn’t even cry out. He glanced at the rising vapor of smoke. Hope stirred in his heart.
He stopped the ATV some distance from where the camp was. “I don’t want them to hear us coming. Just in case.” It didn’t make sense for their pursuers to build a fire...unless they were setting another trap.
Heather dismounted. “Chances are it’s not them, right? Why would they make camp? They’re probably beating the bushes looking for us.”
He cupped her shoulder. “Just what I was thinking. But let’s not take any chances.”
They moved with stealth through the trees as though they were a well-trained unit. Heather kept up with him, remained quiet and seemed to instinctually know when to push forward and when to remain put.
Zane lifted his head and sniffed at the scent of burning wood that hung in the air as they drew closer. He darted toward another tree.
He heard voices, a conversation on low volume. Two men, maybe. He pushed through the undergrowth to get a glimpse of them. The crackling fire was the first thing to come into view. Zane lowered a branch for a better view.
He’d been right—it was two men. They looked to be in their forties. He’d never seen either one of them before. Zane breathed a sigh of relief. These were not Willis’s men. The men would have a brief exchange and then stare at the fire for a long time. Both of them wore hunter attire that looked brand new, not the tattered outerwear that characterized Willis’s men. Two horses were tethered not too far from the fire.