Retreat (Getaway #1)

by Jay Crownover

  I took a step toward him and reached up so I could hold his handsome face between my hands. “You’re going to have to trust me to take care of myself and you, Cy. We don’t have a choice. Get that man on the horse and then get us the hell out of here.” I could sound like a badass when I needed to and my determination to make this happen must have been clear because he didn’t argue with me. He gave a jerky nod and pulled away, snapping at Lane to help him get Webb up on his horse.

  Em tugged on my elbow and urged me to turn until I was looking at her. She was worried but she was also proud. That was pretty much how I was feeling about it all, so I hugged her and told her, “I’ll see you back at the ranch.”

  She moved away but it was apparent that she didn’t want to let me go. “Promise?” We’d been each other’s support system for so long that it was unfathomable to think about rushing off into a life-changing race for shelter without having the other to lean on.

  “Promise.” The word was whispered, slightly shaky, because I’d never broken a promise to her and I hated to think that one this important would be the first one.

  Lane and Cy muscled Webb into the saddle then placed me in front of him much more gently. I could feel the tremor in the younger man’s arm as he placed it around my waist. Cy gave me one last, hard look and then swung up into his own saddle, hardly looking like he’d taken a bullet himself. We had already wasted what little time we had so there were no drawn out goodbyes as the horses started to move in opposite directions from one another. The Warner brothers all shared a look before heading off their own ways. I gave Em a little wave that she returned with a sad grin. Life was uncertain, and there was no better reminder that things might not work out the way you wanted them to than saying what might be your last goodbye to someone who means everything to you.

  It was a silent, intense ride for the first hour. We were moving faster than we would have if Cy and Webb were on the same horse but we weren’t moving as fast Cy wanted to. His arm was stiff as he pulled on the reins and worked Edgar through the thick gathering of trees we were foraging through. I couldn’t see any kind of actual trail markers but figured that was a good thing since we were supposed to be staying under the radar. When he wasn’t maneuvering the lead horse, he was holding his arm close to his side and favoring it like I was doing with my wrist, making me think he was hurting more than he let on.

  Webb was also barely hanging in there. More than once his loose hold on my waist had slipped and I’d had to stop to help him readjust in the saddle as he listed precariously off to one side or the other. His skin was getting paler and paler, plus he was sweating like he had the flu. It was uncomfortably close quarters but we kept moving and he never fully let go of me, even if it was very clear he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and drift away on the pain and discomfort contorting his face.

  “So, you want to tell me what you boys are really doing up here and why you’re armed to the teeth for a typically uneventful trail ride?” Cy’s gravelly voice broke the silence and Grady’s heavy sigh followed.

  “My real name is Grady Miller and he is Webb Bryant. I’m with . . . the DEA . . . was with the DEA.” He shook his head and cleared his throat. “My partner, Wyatt Bryant, was assigned a case up here a couple of months ago. He was doing recon on some big growing operations that were rumored to have moved into the Wyoming territory a few months ago. As the senior agent, I was stuck cleaning up a mess at the border, so our boss sent Wyatt in alone thinking it would be an easy observe and report mission.” Webb’s arm tightened around my waist which made me suck in my breath.

  “I called Grady because even when he went undercover, Wyatt always checked in with me to let me know what was going on. We’re all each other has. So, when I didn’t hear from my brother, I was worried something went wrong. Grady tried to get his boss to cut him loose from his case at the border after getting my call and when the higher-ups wouldn’t agree, he quit and flew up here to try and find my brother on his own.” Webb’s voice was weak but the worry for his sibling was clear in every word he struggled to get out.

  “Are you with the DEA as well?” He snorted at my question and it made my hair move.

  He bit out a firm, “Hell no,” at the same time Grady barked out a sharp laugh full of incredulity.

  “Webb and Wyatt Bryant couldn’t be any more opposite. Wyatt was young when he joined the agency, Webb was even younger when he did his first stint in the slammer, but the boys are close and they are like family to me. I couldn’t get a bead on Wyatt anywhere up here, too much open space, and too many people who wouldn’t give an out of towner the time of day. There was still no word from Wyatt and we were desperate. Webb was the one who came up with the idea to take a trail ride into the mountains and play tourist. We were hoping we would come across something, anything that might point to where Wyatt got off to, or maybe we would run across someone out here who may have seen him.” He cleared his throat again and shot a look over his shoulder at the man riding behind me. “We don’t know that the body recovered from the river was his, Webb. I won’t believe it until I see it with my own two eyes. You brother is a damn good agent.”

  The man behind me made a noise low in his throat and shifted. He was burning up and shivering at the same time. His voice was thin with pain and weak when he spoke into the back of my head. “I told him a thousand times he needed a different job. He was never home, and every time he got a new assignment, it seemed to be more dangerous than the one before it.”

  “Some people are just wired to be heroes, I think.” I wasn’t one of them but I was pretty sure the man leading us through the forest without saying a word about how hurt he was or how worried he had to be about his brothers was one of them.

  “Wyatt was always too busy trying to save the rest of the world that he forgot to worry about someone saving him.” Webb sounded like he was convinced the body Sutton told us about belonged to his brother.

  “So, you’re an ex-con?” Cy’s voice lashed out angry and pointed. I couldn’t see his face but I had no trouble imagining his thunderous expression. He wasn’t the kind of man who took being lied to and deceived in stride, especially when those lies had dangerous effects on the people he cared about and the business he had built from the ground up.

  I felt Webb nod behind me. “I’ve done some time, mostly back when I was a kid and couldn’t figure out what my purpose was. Wyatt always walked the straight and narrow, was a straight-A student, played football, and was accepted to several top tier colleges. I didn’t have any of that going for me so I rebelled, got messed up in some stupid shit, made the wrong kind of friends, and paid the price for it. Now, I’m mostly on the up and up.” I didn’t want to think about what he did when he wasn’t on the up and up.

  “You better be on the fucking up and up while you’re that close to my girl.” I’d never been anyone’s girl before, but I kind of loved the idea of being his.

  “All I want is to find my brother, and if that is his body sitting in the morgue, then anything that happens afterwards is best kept between me and the mountains.” It was my turn to shiver at the deadly intent in his voice. I didn’t know who he was before the truth bomb and something told me that whoever he was wasn’t someone I wanted to be this close to. He was terrifying in an entirely different way than Cy now that I had hints as to what he was capable of.

  “Hot-headed and foolish. That’s what gets you in trouble time and time again, Webb. Sometimes it pays to think before you act.” Grady said the words wearily, like it was a lecture he had given the younger man many times before.

  “If those growers and the cartel killed my brother up here in the middle of goddamn nowhere and tossed his body into the river like he was trash, you really expect me to let that go, Grady? You know me better than that.” There was a gasp and then a groan as his arm locked tight around my middle.

  I swore too as we both started to slide sideways in the saddle as he lost his balance and struggled to remain seate
d. The horse underneath us neighed at the shift in weight and tossed his head in aggravation.

  “Cy.” I called to the man in the lead and gave him a pleading look when he cranked his head around to look at me. “I don’t know where we’re going but we’re going to need to stop sooner than you probably planned. I need to look at Webb’s shoulder to and he needs to rest.”

  His gaze skimmed over me and over the man behind me who was barely managing to stay in the saddle even with my help.

  “There’s a fire lookout post a few more miles in this direction. It’s nothing fancy, just a bare bones cabin the forest service uses to house a ranger when the fire danger is high. There’s an observation tower we should be able to see once we get out of the thick of the forest. They might have a better first aid kit than I carry and there should be a bed, so we can let him rest for a couple hours before we push on. You think you’ll make it?”

  “I’ll make it.” Webb ground the words out through gritted teeth but I realized Cy was looking at me as he asked the question.

  I gave him a lopsided grin and tipped my chin down in a tiny nod of agreement. “I’m holding on for dear life.”

  And I had no plans of letting go anytime soon.

  No Rest for the Weary

  As if things weren’t challenging enough, another hour into our ride, through the trees and going what seemed like straight uphill, the sky went from sunny blue skies to stormy gray in the span of seconds. The first few drops of rain were huge and splattered noisily when they hit the ground. They were nothing compared to the deluge that followed after the sky opened up and tried to wash all the way down the mountain and back to the river. The water coming from above was relentless and driving. The drops of rain stung exposed skin when they made contact and had the ground underneath the horses’ hooves turning into slippery mush. We were already moving at a snail’s pace but we had been plodding along steady and sure. The rain almost brought us to a total stop, especially since it made the struggle Webb was having staying on the saddle and holding onto me even more pronounced.

  Cy kept insisting the cabin was just beyond the tree line, but the longer we trudged through the forest and the weather, the more I was convinced that the forest never ended. It crossed my mind that Cy might be lost but I quickly dismissed it. Cy wasn’t the kind of man who would wander around aimlessly. He always had a destination in mind and he wouldn’t put the rest of us at risk by pretending like he knew the way when he really didn’t.

  He stopped us fifteen minutes into the storm when he found a spot that was partially dry, due to the canopy of the trees above. He dug his rain poncho out of the pack on the side of Edgar. Em and Sutton had ended up with the mules and most of the provisions since there were only two of them and they would move the fastest. He forced me to put it on, even though I protested and told him I was fine. He was bleeding and Webb was on the verge of passing out. I didn’t want any special treatment or for him to coddle me. He grunted in response to my argument and pulled the rubbery material over my head, effectively shutting me up.

  “Webb is already fighting to stay in the saddle. If he loses his grip on you and ends up in the mud, I doubt we’re getting him back on a horse. This will keep you somewhat dry and give him a chance to hold on for the rest of the ride. We need to push hard for just a little bit longer.” He’d been saying that for hours. I don’t think his idea of a little bit and mine were the same.

  Webb wiggled his hands under the drape of the poncho and settled them back on my damp waist. He gave me a little squeeze, as I watched Cyrus walk back toward his horse and pull himself up into the saddle. The motion wasn’t as effortless for him as it usually was and there was no missing the wince that followed when he leaned forward and reached for the reins.

  “Cy reminds me of Wyatt. My older brother is always looking out for everyone else. They are what good men should be like.” The longer we rode the harder it got for Webb to speak. His words were slow and measured, each one an obvious struggle to get out. He was shivering behind me and I could feel the grip he had on my waist slipping.

  I turned my head a fraction so that I could catch his eye. “You don’t know for sure what happened to him. Everything that’s been going on this week proves that things can be unpredictable. Maybe something super important with his case came up and he couldn’t contact you. You need to believe in him and have faith that his training and his investment in getting back to the people who love him is enough to keep him safe.”

  Webb made a noise in his throat and shook his head. “I’ve been listening to you and your friend all week. You don’t exactly have faith in people.”

  I grimaced a little, not realizing he’d been paying attention to me while I was too busy paying attention to him and trying to figure him out. “I don’t have faith in people I don’t know well, mostly because I’ve spent my entire life trying to avoid disappointment. That’s impossible, which is a lesson I guess I needed to learn. This trip has taught me that I shouldn’t keep trying to build walls between me and the people I do know and trust. It sounds like you and your brother are close and it sounds like he’s never given up on you, even though you’ve made some bad choices along the way.” Just like Em had never given up on me, and just like my grandparents had gone out of their way to love me more because my mother couldn’t love me at all. “You shouldn’t give up on him either.”

  He made another noise and his fingers flexed at my waist. “I’m not giving up. If something happened to him, I will level this entire forest to make the people who hurt him pay.” The certainty in his tone made me shiver because I believed him.

  I was trying to think of a proper response when suddenly, the trees started to thin out making the downpour even more difficult to navigate. I saw Edgar slip a little and Cy struggle to keep his balance as the horse danced erratically to the side in the mud. Grady called out to make sure everyone was okay and I almost cried tears of relief when a tiny, nondescript cabin came into view. There was a clearing that was currently nothing more than a mud bog but the cabin was there, just like Cy had promised, looking like a rustic oasis. Behind the cabin was a wood and metal tower that rose high into the sky. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed before, since it rose like a pillar above the trees. It showed how tired and anxious I was that I had missed it. We all needed out of the rain and the boys needed their injuries tended to.

  “Cy, there are tire tracks in the mud. Someone was here not that long ago.” Grady pointed out the obvious marks in the loose soil and it had all of us exchanging nervous looks with one another.

  “Could be the rangers. Those look like ATV tracks.” Cy swung out of the saddle and gave his horse a pat on the side of the neck. “You guys head inside and see if there is anything you can use to fix up Webb’s shoulder. I’ll take care of the horses. I need to find someplace semi dry to hitch them up.”

  “I’ll help you with the horses just in case we aren’t alone. I think making it through one ambush a day is enough for all of us.” Grady sounded as weary as I felt and as Webb looked. It was obvious Cy was also running on fumes because he accepted the help with no argument.

  Webb limped and shuffled his way to the cabin door with me propped up under his arm as a crutch. I was surprised when the door opened easily under my hand and even more surprised that the interior was far from sparse and utilitarian as the outside had led me to believe it would be. The cabin was decorated with woodsy touches but there were curtains, a braided rug on the floor, a cozy looking comforter on the bed, and a kitchen with cute and rustic tin cookware. The place was fully stocked, looked well lived in, and incredibly comfortable. The only thing missing was a bathroom, which I would have killed for, but knew that beggars couldn’t be choosers and a roof over my head during the storm was all I really needed. It was obvious that the rangers who were stationed out here during wildfire season had gone out of their way to make the place as welcoming and as livable as possible. I wanted to kiss each and every one of them in gratitude
.

  I muscled Webb over to the bed. I pulled off the poncho, which immediately left a soggy puddle on the floor at my feet, and started to scavenge through the cabin for a first aid kit. I opened cabinets and drawers, pulling out anything that seemed useful or necessary as I went. There was plenty of canned food stashed throughout the kitchen, as well as a flare gun and a regular old shotgun along with shells. When I finally found the sturdy aluminum box with the familiar blue and white writing on it I let out a victorious whoop and did a little shimmy as I turned around with the first aid kit held above my head.

  I was expecting a similar excitement at the discovery from Webb but when I was met with silence I knew something was seriously wrong. He was pitched over on his side on the bed, clutching his shoulder and shaking all over. Even though the rain had soaked him through, his skin was clammy and fiery to the touch when I grabbed him and rolled him over onto his back.

  “It feels like my entire body is burning.” There was blood still leaking thick and crimson from between his fingers.

  I pawed through the first aid kit and handed him a handful of painkillers. “I wouldn’t normally mix Tylenol and Ibuprofen but I think this case calls for extreme measures. Can you sit up? We need to get your shirt off so I can put something on your shoulder to stop the bleeding as much as possible. If you can handle it, I’ll pour this peroxide on the wound and then cover it with the antibiotic cream. I think the fever might be from an infection and I don’t even want to think about how much blood you’ve lost. There’s nothing in here to close the wound but we can get it as clean as possible and wrap it up as tight as you can stand.”

  He groaned loud and long as we both struggled to get him into a seated position so that I could tug his shirt off of him. It was tricky because the material soaked from the rain clung to him. I offered to cut the garment off to make it easier but he shook his head and powered through while I peeled the rest of the shirt down his arms.