by Lyn Stone
Mary didn’t pursue that. She didn’t want him to confirm that it felt more like sleet.
The night offered no light at all, but the worn asphalt was smooth underfoot and kept them from wandering off into the inky wilderness. Ford held her hand and walked with one foot off the pavement. He soon hit a break in the ground cover.
“Here’s the logging road,” he announced, and guided Mary into the cover of the trees and brush beside the trail. “So far, so good.”
She heard him drop the tent and gear onto the ground. Then he took her bag and purse from her and fitted the straps over his shoulder, combining the load with his own canvas tote.
“Stay right here and watch for his lights,” he ordered, pointing toward the logging road. “We should have a good half hour or longer at the least. It will take him a while to find the way across the pasture and into the woods. Listen for his motor, too, in case he’s driving blind. The minute you see or hear anything, go flat on the ground and don’t look at the car directly. Eyes reflect. Got it?”
“Where will you be?” she asked. The fear in her voice sounded real enough. He supposed it was, in spite of her old escapades. After all, she had no weapon at hand, and no daddy around for backup.
“Setting up a temporary camp,” he told her. “You’ll be okay. I’ll just be about a hundred yards away, a little deeper in. We have to know when he’s exhausted this possibility. He might turn around and go back to check that other road—the one to the cabin—unless he did that one first.”
“This just might work,” Mary said, sounding thoughtful.
He heard the grudging admiration in her tone, and had to laugh at himself. After she had all but called him an idiot, it amazed Ford how little it took for her to make amends. And to make his chest swell like he’d won first prize for smarts.
“I’m glad you’re so delighted with this plan, seeing as how one of us is going to have to wait here until he shows, and find out which direction he takes. It could take all night if he waits until the sun comes up.”
“That one of us would be me,” Mary stated with a sigh.
“That would be you,” he confirmed, laughing. “At least until I get the tent popped up. If he hasn’t gone one way or the other by that time, we’ll take turns.”
She reached for his arm and squeezed lightly. “I’m not complaining, and you don’t have to stand watch. I slept a long time today and I’m wide-awake.”
“And you don’t want to crawl into that dark tent while I’m out here by the road,” he guessed, covering her hand with his.
“That, too,” she admitted. “Why are we camping so close to the roads?”
“Once he’s investigated these roads through the woods, he won’t be back, at least not tonight. He’ll be too busy checking the motels along the interstate. If it doesn’t snow tonight, we need to stick around until morning and see how well I’ve concealed the Jeep and our trail,” he explained. “Just a precaution.”
“Makes sense. Go ahead and do whatever you have to do. I’ll be fine here.”
Ford didn’t doubt it for a minute, since she now knew he’d be close by. She might be willing to hazard everything in some instances, but she didn’t like to do so by herself. One little piece to add to the puzzle that was Mary Shaw. He would have the complete picture before he was through with her. If he ever got through with her.
Something told him that even after all of this was over and she was safe, he wouldn’t be able to leave Mary alone no matter how much he had learned about her, good or bad.
Doggedly, he plowed his way through the underbrush a little farther in than he had told her he would. It was hilly and rough going, and would provide good cover. As soon as he located a suitable area, he began setting up the small brown tent by feel.
He would never have bothered with it if she weren’t along, but females hated the thought of bugs and snakes. Ford doubted there would be any out in this weather, but Mary would worry about it the way all females did—even women with courage to spare, like Molly and his mom. They’d as soon face a shark as a spider. He felt safe in assuming Mary would, too. He tried to forget the fact that she had already faced the sharks, for real. The little zip-up dome would at least ensure a good night’s sleep for her, and she would need it for tomorrow’s hike.
The sleeting increased as he worked. Ford hoped it would turn to snow. That would help conceal any of their tracks he had missed covering in the dark. The air felt colder than ever, stiffening his fingers and making him clumsy.
He had toyed with the idea of leaving some signs on purpose and getting this over with. But if he allowed Perry to find their trail, Ford knew he’d have to hide Mary and set up an ambush. The thought of ending the whole thing now tempted him, but Perry’s aptitude for sniffing out a trap was an unknown factor.
Perry had him outgunned at the moment, anyway, judging by the way he’d shot up the van. Ford hoped he could even the odds a little and supplement his Glock. He’d seen all kinds of weapons’ magazines at Knoblett’s house. He planned to call the old guy later and see what could be arranged. A former marine ought to be able to lay his hands on something more sophisticated than that shotgun Ford had seen in the closet. Taking that had been out of the question. You just didn’t mess with a man’s only weapon unless he offered it.
As he worked, Ford enumerated all the facts he had on Perry and they didn’t make a very long list. The Bureau file on him was brand-new. Ford thanked his lucky stars for that. Otherwise, he might not have recognized the man quickly enough to save Mary.
Perry had a distinctive face and build, easy to remember. Too tall, too blond, and too good-looking to blend into any crowd. Like a Hitler Youth’s descendant. Though the instant recognition had come in handy, it bothered Ford. Why would a man like that choose the profession of assassin? Was he stupid or just cocky as hell? Ford hoped for both, but knew he couldn’t count on either.
Perry’s file lacked anything concrete, was just supposition and too many coincidences. He’d always been spotted in the right places at the right times, had iffy connections to suspect groups and individuals. Very little personal info had been included. He had a brief military background—three years as a grunt—no special-forces training or the like.
However, the years after Perry’s army stint remained a total blank. The man could have spent a decade in some off-the-wall survivalist camp, for all Ford knew. He hoped to hell not, or they might be serving each other bullets for breakfast. Or a late-night feast.
One thing Ford did know for sure. Perry had qualified as expert with an M-16 in basic. No surprise there. The automatic used to spray them the other night hadn’t taken any expertise, of course. But apparently, Perry did right well with something that shot a .308 Winchester. That was what had been used on two politicians he was suspected of dropping with one shot each.
The thought of Mary getting caught up in another shootout chilled Ford’s blood. That was one reason he’d elected to stay here on her property, rather than seeking some unknown place in the wilds. Perry would probably find them eventually, wherever they went. At least here, she would have familiar woods to hide in, and stand a chance of running to the neighbors for help, should Ford blow this to hell and gone.
When he did lay the trap, he wanted to be damned certain the man went down as planned. Ford got no charge out of killing, but Perry might not leave him an option. If possible, Ford hoped to take him alive and get the name of the son of a bitch behind all this—a name he suspected might be all too familiar.
No question Perry would come after them, but this way Ford could control things. Unless he missed his guess, he also knew precisely how to fix the time. He needed a few days to set it up, maximize their chances and prepare Mary for what was going down.
This was Ford’s kind of turf, better cover than buildings, streets and alleyways. More familiar to him when engaged in a game like this. If Mary weren’t with him, he would actually be looking forward to it. Since she was, an element o
f dread cooled his anticipation a little. Even so, he could feel the old blood pumping like crazy.
He wondered if she felt jazzed, too. If so, it wasn’t exactly a terrific thing for them to have in common. With both of them psyching up for a battle royal, things could get wild. Hell, they already had. He and Mary had that to deal with, as well.
His breath whistled out as he tossed their gear inside the tent and zipped it closed. Mary was waiting out there, keeping an eye out for the man who meant to kill her. And even if she happened to find that a great big thrill, Ford now knew she wouldn’t want to experience it all by herself.
Mary lay flat on the ground and squinted her eyes, peeking through her lashes at the car about to exit the old logging road. She watched as it idled for a few moments, then turned left and sped on in the direction of the interstate.
Safe now that the taillights had disappeared around a curve, she pushed herself into a sitting position just as Ford crept up behind her.
“That had to be him,” she said.
“You okay?” he asked, running a palm along her sleeve.
“Fine,” she replied, her breath rushing out with the word. “You think he’ll come back in the morning to track us, don’t you?”
Ford put his arm under hers, encouraging her to stand. “If he does, he won’t find anything. Not until I want him to. Come on,” he said, taking her hand in his and leading her into the woods. “Be careful and don’t break any branches or trample anything you can avoid.”
“It’s dark, Ford! How am I supposed to do that?”
“Just take it easy. Keep your steps light.”
“Right. When I can barely feel my feet,” she grumbled.
She picked her way through the brushy undergrowth, stepping as gingerly as she could, following his example. Briars snagged at her clothing and scratched her ankles.
Suddenly Ford halted directly in front of her so that she bumped up against his back. The bulge of his pistol slammed into her midriff. He reached behind to steady her. Mary thought he held on just a few seconds too long, but she didn’t object. In fact, she automatically clasped one arm around his waist.
“Wait here,” he instructed gruffly, pulling away.
The man must have infrared vision, she thought, because she couldn’t see a blessed thing. She heard his rustling around and then, thankfully, the unmistakable sound of the tent’s zipper.
“Your bed awaits!” he announced. His fingers touched her hip as he searched for her hand and found it.
“I’m afraid I can’t sleep after napping half the day,” she said, torn between wanting to stay outside near him and needing the haven the small tent offered.
“Well, just climb in there and meditate or whatever,” he ordered. “Unless you’d rather sit outside and gather ice.”
She felt around for the opening and crawled through it. As much as she hated being alone, she did hope Ford wouldn’t decide to follow her inside. Every time he touched her, she came unglued, despite her fear and the danger that threatened them. What would happen if he joined her in such a closed-in space?
Ford remained outside, however, and zipped her in. “Where are you going?” she called out.
“About six feet away,” he answered. “If you wake up and have to go potty, give me some warning so I won’t shoot you. I’ll have to show you where to go, anyway.”
She could hear the laughter in his voice and cursed under her breath. Ford was enjoying this to the extreme.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve camped, I’ll have you know!”
“First time you’ve camped with me,” he replied easily. “Tttis’ll be a shade different from your comfy little catered outings with Mommy and Daddy.”
Well, he had that right, Mary thought as she wriggled out a fairly comfortable spot and rested her head on her travel bag. She would never admit the amenities her former camping trips had afforded, even if Ford had guessed already. If he expected her to rough it, then she would.
Mary really felt that old saw apply—Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. If she appeared tough and game for anything, that would verify Ford’s belief that she’d lied about her fears and pretended to be different than she was. Didn’t he believe that, anyway? If she totally wimped out, he would think it was only an act
Mary knew she wouldn’t do that. She had conquered most of her terrors somewhere along the way. Maybe years ago, once she’d gotten over the worst after her mother’s death. No test of that had arisen since then. But the fearlessness her parents had worked to instill in her seemed a thing of the past, and she’d just as soon keep it there.
Once in a great while it flared unexpectedly, causing her to commit rash acts totally at odds with her current character. It certainly had leaped right out with a vengeance when she’d found Jim with the professor’s wife. Her boldness later that night had almost gotten her killed, and Ford right along with her.
That proved she was right. Caution made sense. It ought to be a way of life for people like her, without exception. So should prudence. But she had lapsed there, too.
Having sex with Ford, a man she hardly knew, had seemed daring to her at the time. In retrospect, Mary saw that idiocy for what it was. It was not bold at all. Neither was it cautious or prudent. It only qualified as a terrible weakness.
Her life depended on Ford’s commitment to protect her. She had craved his closeness and reassurance that he would not leave her alone. Mary had wanted nothing more than to lose herself in Ford that night Now she was terrified that she’d done exactly that.
The incident only increased the magnetism that had drawn them together right from the beginning. Ford felt it too; she could tell by the way he looked at her, touched her, and teased her. But she now realized how wrong and foolish it had been to give vent to it, whatever her reasons.
Lovemaking should happen only between two people who had at least a strong possibility of building something meaningful together. Ford Devereaux wasn’t seeking anything long-term. That was clear. And even if she were seeking that, Mary knew it should never be with the likes of him.
She needed steadiness, stability and safety. Ford was who he was—a man who lived by chance and for the next adventure. It would take an act of God to change him. Just as it had in her case.
But she still wouldn’t wimp out, Mary decided firmly. No matter what. For the duration of their time together, she meant to call up every ounce of fortitude within her. And to hell with what he thought about it.
“Mary! Wake up, I’m coming in,” Ford warned as he reached for the tent’s zipper. He didn’t want another tussle like the one she’d put up the last time he’d scared her to death.
He stripped off his ice-encrusted jacket as he crawled in.
“Wh-what is it? What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice husky with sleep.
“I’m getting soaked and freezing my ass off out here, that’s what’s wrong. Move to one side.”
Unfortunately, he’d picked the wrong side when he launched himself into the tent. She groaned when he landed on top of her. “Sorry, didn’t mean to squash you,” he said, taking his time about rolling off. The thought of crawling into that warm, downy cocoon with her and soaking up some heat jump-started his libido.
She’d appreciate that, he thought wryly—him coming on like a polar bear in rut “Jeez, it’s cold out there! Temp’s dived a good twenty degrees. Sleet’s really coming down now.”
He shivered as he dug around for the cell phone and his penlight. When he switched it on, he could make out her worried features.
“Who are you calling this time of night?” she asked, sniffling and running a hand through her tousled hair.
Ford almost turned off the light so he wouldn’t have to look at her. Talk about tempted? Mary, warmth, sex. In that order. He dragged his hungry gaze back to the buttons on the phone.
“Weather,” he said, and then listened for the forecast.
When he heard it, he cursed and stuffed both the phone and
the light back into the side pocket of his waterproof bag. “Just frigging dandy!”
“What?” she demanded, wide-awake now and sitting up.
“Ice storm. We’ve got to pack up and get to the cabin, and we’ll have to do it in the dark.” He reached out and half encircled her neck with his hand, his caress more apologetic than sensual. “I figure it’s around eight miles on foot if we take the crow’s route. Can you make it, Mary?”
She sighed. “As long as I don’t have to run. I walk about three to five miles several times a week. I can do twice that.”
Ford’s estimation of her upped several notches. No whiny complaint. No pitiful pleading to uncover the Jeep and find a nice warm motel, which they couldn’t do now, even if he thought it safe. She just gave him a matter-of fact statement of her known capabilities.
Her earlier protests had concerned their safety, not her own comfort. She trusted him to do what he thought best for her. A humbling thought.
He considered whether he might be making a mistake, sticking to his original plan. But the roads would be closing soon if they hadn’t already. This whole area would be icicle city by morning.
They both had plastic and ATM cards, but his cash was limited and so was hers. Even if the Jeep held out and got them to a hotel, they would leave a paper trail a kid could follow.
If he only had Perry to contend with, he might have risked it. But if what he suspected was true and Blevins was involved, they would be located in no time. Besides, if the roads were already iced up, they wouldn’t get far, anyway. Four-wheel drive would only do so much, even if something else wasn’t wrong with the Jeep. The alternator. How the hell had she known that?
This trek to the cabin looked like their only option. It was much closer than going back to her grandmother’s house. He dug out the thin poncho that Knoblett had kept packed inside the folded tent, and found the regular flashlight in his bag.
“Put on an extra sweater under your jacket,” Ford said. “And extra socks, if you brought them.”