Escape to Morning

by Susan May Warren

“I don’t know. I guess I thought it was a good idea to leave town.” Leave memories. Leave the dead end of his bad-boy reputation. “I suppose someday I wouldn’t mind going back. Starting a family.” Now where had that come from? As if a guy like him could ever have a wife, children. Soldiers shouldn’t marry. Ever. He had switched gears before she could respond. “When I got out of high school, I joined the service and stayed in over ten years.”

  “That’s a long time. You said something about joining up with a friend?”

  He had glanced at her, surprised she remembered. “Yeah. Lew Strong. He and I were together all the way to the end.”

  “The end? You mean you were both discharged?” She angled a frown at him.

  He had suddenly been aware that his voice had tightened, and a light sweat ran down his back. “No. Lew was killed a few years ago.”

  She stopped and turned. The compassion on her face made his insides coil, his throat scratchy. He had the sudden urge to laugh or crack a joke, anything to escape the feeling that she’d treaded into uncharted, vulnerable territory of his heart again.

  “I’m sorry,” she’d said softly. Her luminous eyes searched his face.

  He could barely breathe, but he had managed to nod and brush past her. So maybe giving away all that information hadn’t been free after all.

  They’d stopped an hour later and bent over their maps. Sarah had obviously been on more than a few SAR expeditions, because she also read maps like a pro. They pinpointed their location, atop Mount Maude, and scanned the horizon for the forest-service tower. Sarah pointed to the south, right where it should be, and Will wondered if these two ladies really didn’t need his protection, just as Dani had insisted.

  They ate in silence. Dani and Sarah both shed their jackets, then their sweatshirts. He kept his shirt on, preferring the protection it gave from the tree limbs. He slipped away once, checked his cell phone, and couldn’t get a signal. Oh, joy. Jeff would be so fun to talk to now that Will had disobeyed … twice.

  They started out again, Missy in a free search, Dani after her, Sarah marking their movements on the map. Will hiked behind them, watching the sky. It had turned from wispy blue to indigo to an eerie bruised green and purple. He felt the wind kick up now and again, despite the oppressive, odd, May heat.

  He strode up to Dani. “So, I think all’s fair in love and war. I told you my secrets; now you owe me yours.”

  She gave him a wide-eyed look.

  O-kay, he’d meant that as a joke. “I don’t mean all your secrets, Dannette. Just the public-knowledge ones will be fine. Background, schooling, favorite movie. Favorite flavor of ice cream.” If I can someday kiss you.

  Oops. What was wrong with him? He took a deep breath, erased that thought from his mind. Sorry, Lord. I’m trying. I really am. Help me be Your man here.

  As if she’d read his thoughts, she narrowed her eyes. “Promise you won’t print my answers?”

  What? He frowned, gave a snort of disbelief, and then remembered. Oh yeah, he was a reporter. something akin, in her book, to the sludge at the bottom of a septic tank. He nodded slowly.

  She kept one eye on her dog. “I grew up in southern Iowa on a farm.” She gave him a half grin. “Yes, I know, big surprise, but actually a farm can be a great place to grow up. Animals. Hard work. Lots of open sky.”

  “Sounds nice. Do you have any siblings?”

  Her smile dimmed. “I had a little sister. She died when we were young. But my dad remarried about ten years ago, and I have two half brothers and a half sister.”

  “Are your parents divorced?”

  Another shadow across her face and this time her mouth tipped with a shade of melancholy. “No, she died not long after my sister.”

  Ouch. Despite the battering his parents had given him emotionally and verbally, he’d never had to deal with the finality of death. He’d always been able to cling to the hope of tomorrow and second chances. “I’m sorry.”

  She smiled, and her eyes were warm on his. “Thanks. Actually, God was very gentle. I had doting grandparents, and they pretty much took over and raised me. Granny was a solid Christian, and I grew up with a sound belief that Mom and Ashley were in heaven, maybe looking down at me.” She reddened slightly. “I know, sorta childish, but it worked for me growing up.”

  He had the nearly overpowering urge to reach out and draw her to his chest and tell her that it didn’t seem childish at all. It seemed more like survival. He gave a slight smile. “Your granny sounds like she did a good job of filling in.”

  “She did. She made sure I never felt alone. I remember too many nights when I’d lie awake, letting the darkness find my nooks and crannies, and suddenly, as if she knew, Granny would appear at the door. She’d take me on her lap, wrap her afghan around me, and sing hymns to me until I fell asleep. She loved the classics—‘Great Is Thy Faithfulness,’ ‘Amazing Grace.’ The smell of mentholated rub still reminds me of her. That and chocolate-chip cookies and homemade cinnamon bread and snowball candles.”

  “Snowball candles?”

  “Oh yeah. Granny and I made homemade candles every Christmas out of the crayons I’d rubbed to a nub over the year. She also knit me a new pair of sippies every year.”

  “Should I ask?”

  Dani laughed. “Slippers. It’s the only thing I know how to knit. They’re really warm.” Her smile turned wry. “Actually, I haven’t touched a knitting needle in years. Not much time at home. I do miss sippies.”

  Something in her voice made his chest thick. “Is Granny still around?”

  Dani didn’t look at him when she shook her head. “She died a few years back. It’s just me and Missy and Sherlock.”

  “Who’s Sherlock?”

  “My other SAR dog, a bloodhound. I’m training him to be a cadaver dog for police searches. When I was young I wanted to be a veterinarian and went to Iowa State for a couple of years, but I got into SAR when I adopted Missy and heard about the need for SAR K-9 handlers. It consumes my life. We’ve been all over the country, and I try to do a lot of on-site training.”

  “Nice. You have a way with animals. It’s like you can understand them.”

  She shot a look at her dog, now circling to acquire the scent pool. “Well, if you get to know them, sometimes you can. You don’t have to talk. You kind of sense it.”

  Somehow he wondered if he’d just been handed some sort of cosmic answer to a question he hadn’t yet voiced.

  “Besides, Missy and Sherlock aren’t only pets. They’re my partners. Without them, I couldn’t do my job. We rely on each other. Not to mention that they’re quite valuable. Thousands of man-hours and dollars go into training a good K-9. But even more importantly … Missy and Sherlock are like family. It’s just been me and them for … years.”

  He glanced at her—something in her tone made him wonder if she, too, had given away more than she’d planned. And, wow, that felt way too good. “So, your favorite movie?” he asked.

  She smiled, as if thankful for his rescue. “Turner and Hooch.”

  “I should have guessed.” He laughed. “Favorite ice cream?”

  “Oh, I’m a homemade vanilla girl. Granny used to make homemade ice cream, and I’ve never found its equal.”

  “I don’t know. I think you should try the local Moose Tracks.”

  She made a face.

  “No, seriously. Chocolate swirls, peanut butter.” He licked his lips noisily. “Tell you what, when we get back, I’ll buy you a cone.”

  She smirked, and he wanted to whoop when he saw the slightest press of a blush on her skin. It kindled his courage.

  “I’d really like to be your friend, Dani,” he said softly, trying out her nickname. He wasn’t sure where the sudden rush of tender feelings came from, but he hung on to them and pressed ahead. “I know you don’t like the fact that I’m a reporter, and I don’t know why, but I’d really like to get past that if we can—”

  The sudden prickling of the hair on the back of Will�
��s neck made him pause.

  She stared at him, her eyes wide, and he didn’t know if it was from shock or from the hand he raised to cut off any response.

  Yes, he had a definite we-are-being-watched feeling. He wanted to bang his head against a tree. He’d been marching along the woods as if they were in a parade, completely forgetting that he might have a couple of Hayata terrorists on his six.

  “Keep moving, but keep quiet. I’ll catch up with you.” He turned and, passing Sarah with a finger to his lips, charged back through the forest. Veering off their trail, he kept it in his sight as he stole back the way they’d come, probably a quarter mile.

  There, in the mud right after the river, he saw boot tracks. Two men, probably armed. Less than an hour behind them. Did they even know Dani and her little search party were breaking the trail?

  Of course they did.

  A chill climbed up Will’s spine as he whirled and headed back in their direction. Oh, God, please, no.

  If the terrorists were behind him before, they were ahead of him now. …

  He raced through the forest at full speed, knowing his path. He ducked tree limbs, dived through thickets, not caring that he sounded like a herd of rhinoceros. He caught up quickly, breathing hard.

  Dani sat on a tree trunk, wresting with Missy’s tug toy. Her expression turned toward concern when she saw him. “Will, your mouth is bleeding.”

  He stopped, bent over, and propped his hands on his knees. “C’mon, we need to keep moving.” To where, exactly? He’d have to hang way behind, flank the women, see if he could outsmart their trackers. But sitting here, they were practically waving red flags.

  How could he have been so stupid? His only hope was that the Hayata thugs would want to keep Dani alive as badly as he did, for at least one similar reason: to find Amina.

  “Will, what’s the matter?” Dani was on her feet. “You look … worried.”

  “No …” Oh, he so didn’t want to lie to her. What was he going to say? I think there are a couple of terrorists on our tail, and I know that because I’m really not a reporter. She might actually like that part. But the next sentence would crush any hope of a future to a fine dust. I’m really an undercover federal agent, and I’ve been lying to you since I met you. Only he hadn’t completely lied. At least not about his family or Lew. Or even about wanting to be her friend.

  “We need to find a place to hole up,” he said. “Look at the sky. I think a storm’s coming.”

  Dani stared at the sky, and if he didn’t know better, he thought he saw her pale. In fact, she reached out, braced herself on a tree. “Sarah, we gotta move.”

  He liked a gal who embraced his causes, but he couldn’t deny that Dani looked downright panicked. She hauled out her topo map. “There’s a lake about half a mile from here. I think we should head there. We can ride out the storm and then come back here after it passes.”

  “Good. Go,” Will said.

  Dani didn’t even bother to put the training harness back on Missy; she just got a compass heading and took off. Sarah was two steps behind her.

  Will hung back, his heart thundering, scanning the forest, wishing he’d brought his Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine gun instead of a flimsy Beretta pistol.

  No, he wished he’d sent Dani home instead of strolling through the woods as if they were on some sort of date.

  “The LORD is my portion,” Dannette had said this morning at breakfast.

  He hoped God was also their protector, because at the moment Will could use all the divine help he could get.

  Chapter 10

  “WILL, WHAT IS going on?” Dannette stood on the lakeshore as Will combed the boulders that had fallen from a nearby cliff. The wind had begun to whip up, and it brushed her short hair and sent a shiver up her spine.

  Or maybe the feeling of creeps came from Will’s off-the charts odd behavior. Yes, the storm had her willies on high, churning up memories that she needed to keep buried. But Boy Scout Masterson was spooking her. He was hunting through the rocks like a bloodhound. They simply needed to find a secure area and pitch their tents. She and Sarah both had survival gear made to tough out storms, and she had no problem bunking in with Sarah and giving Will her tent under these special circumstances.

  “Will, come back here and tell me what is going on, please!” Dannette heard the pleading in her voice and tried to quell it. So what if his voice, his actions bellowed protection; and he actually looked like a hero, his hair scuffed up by the wind, his eyes intense and driven as he sought their shelter. So what if he’d actually dug a tiny place in her heart with those soft words: “I’d really like to be your friend.” It didn’t mean that she was going to hand over this SAR mission to a die-hard reporter with an Eagle Scout badge. “Will!”

  He turned, and something inside her lost its footing. The wind scraped back his hair, and in his solider getup he looked dark and dangerous. His gaze caught hers but he didn’t yell. Just held up his hand. Like an Old Testament prophet stilling the crowd.

  Okay, that was too weird of a comparison.

  Despite his knowledge of obscure OT Scriptures, Will Masterson certainly didn’t have white-collared-pastor look written on his demeanor. Nor did his profession lend itself to anything holy. But he had been chivalrous more than once over the past day, from making them breakfast to holding back tree branches. His dedication to her mission felt altruistic. He hadn’t hauled out a tape recorder or notepad once. And his request to be her friend … well, most fellas she had known in college would have bypassed the request and gone right into assumptions.

  So, maybe she’d reserve judgment and allow that man-of-God analogy to linger a little longer.

  She turned away and called to Missy, who had her nose to the air, sniffing. Missy came near, sat on her haunches, and whined. Dannette knelt and curled her arms around the dog’s neck. “I agree.”

  “What is he doing?” Sarah asked as she came up beside her, sat, and petted Missy.

  “I think he’s trying to find us a place to camp.”

  “How about here? We have a grassy beach and a nice forested backdrop. We’ll camp right inside the forest. It’ll buffet the wind and rain.”

  “I dunno. He’s … something isn’t right here, Sarah. Do you feel it?”

  “If you mean do I smell a storm in the air, yes.”

  “No, there’s something else. Is it my imagination or did our reporter friend just turn into some sort of special-ops soldier? He’s got definite hints of Jim Micah that go way beyond his stint in the army.”

  “Maybe he’s just concerned.”

  “Yeah, and my middle name is Relaxed.”

  Sarah laughed.

  The sky had turned a deep, angry green, and the wind had churned up the waves. Missy laid her ears back when lightning flashed over the far horizon and a low rumble rippled through the sky.

  “We’re in for a doozy.”

  “Dani!” Will came bounding over the rocks.

  “You’re letting him call you that?” Sarah asked.

  Dannette ignored her, not wanting to confront that omission … or acceptance at the moment. “What?”

  “I found a spot. C’mon.” He jumped down to the grassy area and nearly hauled Dannette and Sarah to their feet. “Hurry.”

  Dannette cast a look over her shoulder. “I don’t think it’ll get here for another hour.”

  Will nodded, but his movements didn’t slow. He leaped across the rocks, from one boulder to the next, reaching out to help Dannette and Sarah, who jumped past him easily. He led them into a cleft in the rock face. Around the overhang, boulders the size of Volkswagens had fallen to form a small enclave. Grass pooled at the bottom, just large enough for two tents.

  “Set up camp here. I’m going to be gone for a little while. Put up your tents and stake them down hard. And tie up Missy.”

  Dannette gave him a hard look. “I’ll bring her inside with me.”

  “No. Tie her up. If she gets scared, she’s liabl
e to hurt you.”

  “Hardly. Give me some credit for knowing my dog, okay?”

  Silence pulsed between them. Finally, he said, “Fine. But make sure you’re inside when that storm hits.”

  He turned, but Dannette grabbed his arm. “What about you? Where will you stay? That flimsy A-frame isn’t going to last two seconds.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” He reached out, cupped her hand on his arm, and gave it a slight squeeze. The softness in his eyes didn’t match the storm brewing around them. “But thanks, anyway.” Then he tore out of her grip and rushed away.

  She couldn’t help feeling that somehow he wasn’t at all the man he claimed to be.

  Will glanced back over his shoulder, feeling the wind against his neck, raising the tiny hairs of fear. He’d found a place where anyone attacking them would have to approach from the front. And he’d be watching that approach from a healthy, sharp-shooter’s distance. If only he didn’t have just his pistol. He’d much prefer a Barrett .50 cal sniper rifle. Still, he felt the odds were in his favor.

  Thank You, Lord, for letting me spot the Hayata tracks.

  There was a lot, perhaps, that he’d missed in the way of God’s protection and intervention over the years, but he planned on spending more time paying attention. Or maybe he’d begun to care about his SAR mates and needed God’s help more than he realized. Not that he deserved God’s attention, but he shot a smile toward heaven anyway.

  He ducked into the forest and hiked up along the cliff where it rose and hovered above the ladies. The sky was beginning to crackle and rumble, and he searched the ledge for the best perch to see Dani and Sarah and still watch his back. He circled around to stand over their position, peered down, and was happy to see that they weren’t visible from this view. Which also meant that the Hayata thugs couldn’t stand above them and drill them with bullets.

  Only it wasn’t bullets that he worried about at the moment. If he were a terrorist, he’d go straight for the K-9, grab Dani, and use her friend as leverage to make the handler find Amina.

  It sometimes scared him how easily he thought like a bad guy.