The Novels of Nora Roberts Volume 1

by Nora Roberts

All she could do was survive.

  “Thought they had me, didn’t they?” He jerked the rope so she fell against him. He had the collar of his sheepskin jacket turned up, but still the wet snow snuck in and down his neck and irritated him. “Your horseshit shoveler and half-breed bitch of a sister thought they had the upper hand. I got what I wanted.” He squeezed her breast hard through her shirt. “Always did, always will.”

  “You don’t want me, Jesse.”

  “You’re my fucking wife, aren’t you? Took vows, didn’t you? Love, honor, and obey. Till death.” He pushed her into the snow for the hell of it and rode on the power of that. “They’ll come after us, but they don’t know what they’re up against, do they, Lily? I’m a goddamn Marine.”

  He could plow through this snow just like he’d plowed through basic training, he thought. He could plow through anything and still kick ass.

  “I’ve been planning this for a long time.” He took out a cigarette, flicked on the Zippo he’d turned up to maximum flame. “I’ve been taking the lay of the land. I’ve been working at Three Rocks since I got here, practically right on your skinny ass.”

  “At Three Rocks. For Ben.”

  “Ben Bigshot McKinnon.” He let smoke pour out between his teeth. “The same who’s been bouncing on your sister lately. I’ve given some thought to that myself.” He studied Lily, shivering in the snow. “She’d be a hell of a lot more interesting in bed than you. A fucking tree would be, but you’re my wife, right?”

  She pushed herself up. It would be too easy to just lie there and give up. “No, I’m not.”

  “No lousy piece of paper’s going to tell me different. You think you can run out on me, go to some freaking lawyer, call out the cops? They put me in a cell because of you. I got a lot of payback coming.”

  He studied her again. Pale, beaten. His. Taking one last drag, he flicked his cigarette into the snow. “You look cold, Lily. Maybe I’ll just take a minute or two to warm you up. We got time,” he continued, pulling the rope to drag her to him. “The way they’re going to be tripping over themselves trying to track me. Couldn’t track an elephant in this.”

  He pushed his hand between her legs. When all he saw in her eyes was revulsion, he pushed harder until the first flicker of pain bloomed. “You like to pretend you don’t like it rough, but you’re a whore like all the rest. You used to tell me it was just fine, didn’t you? ‘That’s just fine, Jesse. I like what you do to me.’ Didn’t you used to say that, Lily?”

  She stared into his eyes, fought to ignore the humiliation of his hand on her. “I lied,” she said coolly. She didn’t wince from the pain as he dug into her. Wouldn’t let herself.

  “Castrating bitch, I can’t even get a hard-on with you.” She’d never used to back-talk him. Not after the first couple licks. Unsettled, he shoved her back, then shifted his pack. “No time for this anyway. When we get to Mexico, it’ll be different.”

  Changing directions, he took her south.

  S HE LOST TRACK OF TIME. AND DISTANCE, AND DIRECTION. The snow had slowed, though the occasional boom of thunder still rolled over the peaks. She put one foot in front of the other, mechanically, each step a survival. She was certain now that he wasn’t going to the cabin, wondered where Adam was, where he was looking, what he was feeling.

  She’d seen murder in his eyes at that last glimpse of his face. He would find her, she knew he would find her. All she had to do was live until he did.

  “I need to rest.”

  “You’ll rest when I say.” Worried that he’d lost his way in the storm, Jesse took out his compass. Who could tell where the hell they were going in this mess?

  It wasn’t his fault.

  “Not much farther anyway.” He pocketed the compass and headed due east now. “Just like a woman—bitch, moan, and complain. Never known you not to whine about something.”

  She’d have laughed if she’d had the strength left. Perhaps she had whined once upon a time about the paychecks that had gone missing, the whiskey bottles, the forgotten promises. But it seemed a far cry from whining about dying of exposure in the Rockies.

  “It’ll be harder for you if I collapse from exhaustion, Jesse. I need a coat, something hot to drink.”

  “Shut up. Just shut the hell up.” He stared through the dark and the lightly falling snow, shielding his flashlight with his hand. “I’ve got to think.”

  He had his direction. He had that, all right. But the distance was another matter. None of the landmarks he’d been careful to memorize seemed to materialize. Everything looked different in the dark. Everything looked the same.

  It wasn’t his fault.

  “Are we lost?” She had to smile. Wasn’t that just like him? Big-talk Jesse Cooke, ex-Marine, lost in the mountains of Montana. “Which way is Mexico?”

  And she did laugh, weakly, even when he whirled on her, fists raised. He would have used them, just to relieve his frustration, but he saw what he was looking for. “You want to rest? Fine. This is as far as we go for now.”

  He pulled her again through a snowdrift that reached the top of her thighs and toward the mouth of a small cave.

  “This was Plan B. Always have a Plan B, Lily. I scouted this place out more than a month ago.” And he’d meant to lay in extra supplies, just in case, but hadn’t had the chance. “Hard to spot. Your Indian isn’t going to find you here.”

  It was still cold, but at least it was out of the wind. Lily sank to her knees in relief.

  Delighted now that he’d reached the next stage of his plan, Jesse shrugged off his pack. “Got us some jerky in here. Bottle of whiskey.” He took that out first, drank deeply. “Here you go, sweetheart.”

  She took it, hoping that even false heat would slow the shivering. “I need a blanket.”

  “So happens I got one. You know I’m always prepared, don’t you?”

  He was pleased with the survival gear he’d packed—the food and the flashlight, the knife, the matches. He tossed her a blanket, amused when she gathered it awkwardly with her bound hands and struggled to wrap it around herself. He crouched on the floor of the cave.

  “We’ll get a little sleep. Can’t risk a fire, though I imagine those boys are way north of here.” He took out another cigarette. God knew a man deserved a drink and a smoke after putting in a long day. “In the morning, we’ll head out. I figure we get to one of these bumfuck towns and I can hot-wire a car. Then we’re on our way to sunny Mexico.” In celebration, he blew smoke rings. “Can’t be soon enough for me.” He bit off a piece of jerky, chewed thoughtfully. “Montana sucks.”

  He stretched out his legs, rested his back on the wall of the cave while she let herself drowse in the stingy warmth of the blanket. “I’m going to make me a pile of money down there. I wouldn’t have had to worry about that if you’d behaved yourself. Your share of Mercy, that was big bucks for me, Lily, and you had to fuck it up by thinking you could go off and get married. We’re going to talk about that later. A lot.”

  He took the bottle back and drank deeply again. “But a smart man like me, one who’s got luck at cards, he can do just fine down there with those greasers.”

  She needed to sleep, had to sleep to pull her strength back until Adam found her. Until she could get away. She curled against the side wall, as far away as the tether would allow, and wrapped the blanket tight around her.

  He would drink now. She knew the pattern. He would drink until he was drunk, and then she’d have a better chance of getting away from him.

  But she had to sleep. It was closing in on her like a fog and the chills were racking her so hard she thought her bones would crack. She listened to the whiskey slosh in the bottle as he lifted it, felt herself drift.

  “Why did you kill those people, Jesse? Why did you do all those things?”

  The bottle clinked, sloshed. He chuckled a little, as if at a small private joke. “A man does what he’s got to.”

  It was the last thing she heard him say.

&nbs
p; TWENTY-FOUR

  O N A COLD, WINDY RIDGE, ADAM STOOD, STARING INTO the dark, trying to see into it as he might a mirror. The only relief from that dark was the strong beam of the flashlight in his hand and the beams behind him.

  “He’s veered off from the cabin.” Ben studied the sky, measured the hours until dawn. He wanted the sun, damn it. The morning might bring signs other than the scent the dogs were pursuing. Morning would bring the planes, and his own brother would be up, scanning every tree and rock.

  “He’s got someplace else he’s taking her.” Adam kept his face to the wind, as if it might tell him something. Anything. “He knows someplace else. He’d have to be past crazy to take the mountain on foot at night without a shelter.”

  The man who had ripped two people to pieces was past crazy, Ben thought grimly. But it wasn’t what Adam needed to hear. “He’s gone to ground somewhere. We’ll find him.”

  “Snow’s let up some. Storm’s moved east. She wasn’t dressed for a night in the cold.” Adam stared straight ahead, had to stare into the dark and make himself breathe no matter how his insides shook. “She gets cold at night. Bird bones. Lily’s got little bird bones.”

  “He can’t be that far ahead of us.” Because it was all he could do, Ben laid a hand on Adam’s shoulder, left it there. “They’re on foot. They’ll have to stop and rest.”

  “I want you to leave me alone with him. When we find them, I want you to take Lily and Will, and leave him to me.” Adam turned now, and the eyes that were always so gentle, so quiet, were hard and cold as the rock on which he stood. “You leave him to me.”

  There was civilized, Ben thought, and there was justice. “I’ll leave him to you.”

  From her post by the horses, Willa watched them. She had lived and worked and survived in a man’s world her entire life. Perhaps she understood better than most that there were times a woman couldn’t cross the line. Whatever they spoke of wasn’t for her, and she accepted that. What was between them on that ridge wasn’t just between men, but between brothers.

  Her sister’s fate was in their hands. And hers.

  When they started back toward her, she took Lily’s blouse and gave both dogs the scent fresh. Shuddering with excitement, they whined and headed due south.

  “Sky’s clearing,” she said, as they mounted and Adam rode ahead. She could see stars, just a sprinkle of them glinting through. “If the clouds move off we’ll have a half-moon and some light.”

  “It’ll help.” Ben gave her a quick study. She rode straight as an arrow with no sign of flagging. But he couldn’t see her eyes, not clearly enough. “You holding up?”

  “Sure. Ben . . .”

  He slowed a bit, thinking she might be close to breaking, need him to comfort. “You need a minute, we can hang back.”

  “No, no. Damn it, it’s been working at my mind for hours. There was something familiar about the bastard. Something . . . like I’d seen him somewhere before. But it was dark, and there was blood all over his face where Lily must have scratched him.” She pushed her hat back, suddenly irritated by the weight of it. “I dumped Billy on Bess so fast. I didn’t take time to ask him any questions. I should have. Maybe we’d have a better idea of his moves.”

  “You had other things on your mind.”

  “Yeah.” But it nagged at her, that memory that circled, then dipped just out of reach. “Doesn’t matter now.” She settled her hat back on her head, nudged Moon into a quick-trot. “Finding Lily’s what matters.” Finding her alive, she thought, but couldn’t say it.

  T HE CAVE WAS DARK. SHE WAS BURNING UP. THEN freezing, then burning again, tossed in fever and dreams and terrors. Her hands were cold, sore to numbness at the wrists where the rope abraded her skin. She curled tight into herself, dreamed of curling tight into Adam, having his arm drape over her as it did during the night to pull her close. And warm. And safe.

  She whimpered a little as the rocks scattered across the floor of the cave bit into her shoulder, her back, her hip. Every time she shifted, she hurt, but it was a distant pain, a dream pain. No matter how she struggled she couldn’t quite bring herself to the surface of it.

  When the light burned over the back of her eyelids, she turned away from it. She so wanted to sleep, to drop away from everything. She murmured a little, as the fever began to brew inside her.

  Footsteps, she thought dimly. Adam’s home. He’d crawl into bed beside her now. His body would be a bit chilled but would warm quickly. If she could just turn, just wake enough to turn to him, his mouth would be soft on hers, and he would make love to her, slow and sweet, as he often did when he came in late from his shift.

  They wouldn’t even have to speak, just sigh perhaps. They wouldn’t need words, just touch and taste and that steady rhythm of bodies finding each other. Then sleep again . . .

  As she started to drift again, she thought she heard a scream, cut quickly off. Like a mouse caught in a trap. Adam would take it away before she saw it. He understood things like that.

  Sinking into unconsciousness, she never felt the knife slip between her wrists to cut the rope, or the heavy warmth of Jesse’s coat spread over her. But she said Adam’s name as the man who stood over her, blood dripping from his hands, sheathed his knife.

  It had been quick work, and he regretted that. He hadn’t had time for finesse. He’d gotten lucky finding them before any of the others did. Luckier still to find the bastard drunk and stupid. He’d died easier than he deserved. Like a pig slaughtered with only one surprised squeal.

  But he’d taken the hair nonetheless. It was traditional now, and he’d even thought to bring a plastic bag to hold it. In case he got lucky.

  He’d have to leave the woman as she was, for others to find. Or circle around, stumble across the cave a second time when there was someone with him, to make it seem all nice and proper.

  He scanned the light around the cave again, then smiled when it shone on a small stack of twigs. Well, he could take time for that, couldn’t he? A little fire close to the opening, smoke to bring one of the search parties along quicker.

  What a picture they’d find, he thought, chuckling. He simply couldn’t help but laugh as he built the fire quickly, set it to flame. Couldn’t help but laugh as the flames danced over the body slumped against the wall of the cave and the blood pooling like a red river.

  When he rode off, he rode east, zigzagging through the trees and picking his way down and up rock until he caught the flash of another searcher’s light. All he had to do then was turn his mount and melt in among the men who fanned out over the hills, looking to be heroes.

  He was the only one who knew a hero’s work was already done.

  “S MOKE.” WILLA WAS THE FIRST TO CATCH THE SCENT. HER saddle creaked as she rose in it, concentrated. “There’s smoke.” And with it the first true tug of hope pulled at her heart. “Adam?”

  “Up ahead. I can’t see it, but it’s there.”

  “He built a fire,” Ben murmured. “Stupid bastard.”

  Though they hadn’t discussed it, they moved into a trot and now rode three abreast. And the first thin light broke in the east.

  “I know this place. Adam, we did some rock climbing in the ravine near here.” Ben’s jaw tightened. “Caves, lots of little caves. Decent shelter.”

  “I remember.” Only the memory of the gun against Lily’s temple kept Adam from breaking into a gallop. His eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, and they narrowed now against the gently growing dawn. And they were sharp. “There!” He pointed ahead at the thin gray column of smoke just as Charlie’s high, frantic barking echoed.

  “Found them.” Before Willa could speak, Ben blocked her mount with his. “Stay here.”

  “The hell I will.”

  “Do what you’re told for once, goddamn it.”

  He knew that bark. It wasn’t the excitement of a find, it was the signal for a kill. He could already tell from the set of her chin that she wasn’t going to obey any order. But she
might listen to a plan.

  “He’s armed,” Ben reminded her. “Maybe we can flush him. If we do, we need you back here, with your rifle. You’re a better shot than Adam. Damn near as good as me. Odds are he’s not expecting we brought a woman, so he’ll be focused on us.”

  Because it made sense, she nodded. “All right. We try it that way first.” She looked over at Adam as she pulled out her gun. “I’ll cover you.”

  He dismounted, met Ben’s eyes. “Remember” was all he said.

  They parted there, one to the left, one to the right to flank the opening of the cave where the small fire was down to fading smoke. Willa steadied Moon with her knees and waited, watched them. They moved in sync, men who had hunted together since childhood and knew each other’s thoughts. A hand signal, a nod, and the pace changed, quick, but not rushed.

  Her heart began to knock against her ribs as they neared the cave. Her breath caught in her lungs, clogged there as she braced for the shattering sound of gunfire, of screams, or of the horrific sight of blood splattering over snow.

  She prayed, the words repeating over and over in her head in English, in her mother’s tongue, then in a desperate mixture of both as she pleaded with any god who would listen to help.

  Then she drew a breath, forced it out. Steadying herself, she lifted her rifle and drew a bead on the mouth of the cave.

  It was Lily who stumbled out into the crosshairs.

  “My God.” She forgot her duty, her post, and kicked Moon forward in a gallop. Lily was already in Adam’s arms, being rocked in the trampled snow, when Willa slid off her horse. “Is she hurt? Is she all right?”

  “She’s burning up. Fever.” Desperate, Adam pressed his face to hers as if to cool it. Even thoughts of vengeance vanished as she shuddered against him. “We’ve got to get her back quickly.”

  “Inside,” Lily managed, and burrowed into Adam. “Inside. Jesse. Oh, God.”

  “Inside?” Willa’s head whipped up, and all the fear came roaring back. “Ben?” She said his name the first time, then shouted it as she ran toward the cave.