Dani walked in silence. Whether from agony or from horror, he didn’t know. What he did know was that she had questions. And he didn’t want to have any part of the answers.
He felt nearly ill thinking about the possibilities. If it weren’t for the fact that Dani and Sarah could be ambushed, he might have talked them into letting him pack Missy out alone. He couldn’t escape the rather ugly picture of Amina weathering the storm only to be killed by the two Hayata thugs who had jumped him in the forest.
His Special Forces training in the Green Berets had taught him to deal with one task at a time. To plan ahead but not borrow trouble. He’d get these ladies out safely, hopefully pick up his new partner in town, even up the teams a bit, then head back to Tom Lake and complete his mission.
But when he looked at Dani’s tear-soaked face, he had a hard time remembering exactly what that mission was. A huge part of him wanted to haul her into his arms and tell her it would be okay.
Which it wouldn’t be if her dog died. He was smart enough to know that much. Missy might be a canine, but Will knew that she occupied a special place in Dani’s heart.
Will wasn’t going to let the dog die on his watch.
He heard about a billion ticking clocks even as he upped his pace. Hayata terrorists were still searching the woods and if they hadn’t found the girl yet, they would. Nazar was waiting to be extracted from the game he played, and Hayata poised to take out another target … possibly like the one that had killed Lew and a hundred other soldiers.
And Missy lay as still as death.
Will lifted his end of the stretcher over another log. “How are you doing?” He directed the question at both women but glanced at Dani. She looked strung out, her hair wild from the storm, her eyes reddened. She didn’t smile at him, and he saw suspicion in her eyes.
He forced an encouraging smile. “Not much farther.”
They hiked the rest of the road in silence. By the time they emerged to Tom Lake Road, the moon had risen. Stars twinkled, as if a reminder that, while their corner of the world had been ravaged, the universe was still intact.
Or at least some of it. Dani looked unraveled as she sat by the road, stroking a motionless Missy.
“I’m going for my truck,” he said.
“No, please get mine,” Dani said suddenly. She pulled out her keys, tossed them. “It’s got a first-aid kit in it.”
Sadly, his was closer. Much closer. But he wasn’t thrilled to tell her that. He shook her keys in his hand, wanting to meet her eyes, to tell her it would be okay. “I’ll be right back,” he said quietly, then took off in a run.
He reached his truck nearly an hour later. Sweat dripped off his temples, drenched his sweater, and his feet felt on fire. He climbed in behind the wheel and floored it to the rest area, where he switched vehicles. As he drove away in Dani’s pickup, in the gleam of the headlights he noted a Jeep Cherokee and beside that a beat-up Chevy with a bed topper and sticks littered over the windshield. As if it had been sitting there as long as their vehicles had.
Will punched the gas.
Dani and Sarah had made a shelter just off the road. Good. Even with the moon, they were difficult to spot. He pulled up, and silently they loaded Missy into the built-in shelter in the back of the truck. Dani climbed in with her K-9, her eyes on Will as he shut the door. He climbed into the driver’s seat, Sarah into the passenger side.
Sarah was already on the cell phone, waking up the local vet.
Fadima shook, the chill finding her bones, her every molecule. Hunger had her by the throat, and she felt as if she might be better off simply surrendering.
The storm had scared her. Like an ancient god, its hand covered the sky, its breath flattened the forest, its anger spewed out tears and sweat. She’d huddled in a pocket of forest, just beyond what looked like a lake, and prayed for forgiveness to whatever being was controlling the elements.
She should have never run away. Maybe she could have bargained. Maybe she could have waited. Maybe she was going to cost her family their lives.
Maybe she wasn’t truth at all but a pitiful, giant lie.
She gulped a deep, shuddering breath. “Fadima, you are my light.” Her father’s face flashed through her mind, picking at her fears. “You will free us all. It is your destiny.”
Freedom. She was so free it was going to kill her. She knew there was a lake not far off. If she could reach it, get a drink, and maybe find food … She forced herself to her feet and stumbled forward, the press of night nearly suffocating into its completeness. If it weren’t for the occasional fractured beams of moonlight, she’d be without hope. But she saw the gray dent of shoreline through the knot of forest and kept her eyes riveted.
Night sounds pecked at her courage—a hooting owl, the rush of wind, trees cracking.
Voices?
She stilled.
A flashlight beam scraped the night, and she crouched into a ball, her heartbeat filling her throat.
“This is stupid. She couldn’t have lived through this.”
Men. Their feet broke branches, the cracks resounding in Fadima’s soul.
“We have to find her. We can’t return without her body.”
Her body?
She made herself very, very small, tucking herself under a tree, breathing in shallow breaths like her brother had taught her.
The thought of Kutsi nearly brought tears to her eyes. She conjured up his face, trying to find his calm as her searchers scanned the forest. Kutsi had never seen her like the other men did—as her father’s princess. Of course not. He was only one year older, and they’d spent their youth fighting, studying the way of their people, handling weapons, learning strategy and even evasion skills. Her father’s idea of fun meant dropping them off in the far hills with instructions to return before dinner.
As if he knew that someday her life would be about hiding. About fighting.
“The key to a good defense is surprise,” Kutsi said once as they’d watched their father scope the hills for his children. Just knowing he was looking for them, despite his words, had sent warmth to her chest. He may have been the esteemed ataman of a hundred warriors, but he was still her papa.
A papa who believed in her.
She would die before she let him be executed or discovered as a traitor.
Instead of running through the forest looking for help, she should have been fashioning a weapon, concocting a surprise for the men trailing her.
A branch snapped a few feet away, and she ducked her head as the flashlight beam skimmed slightly beyond her.
If she got out of this alive, next time she would be prepared.
She may be only a woman where she came from, but in this country she was a priceless asset. And despite her gender, her father had taught her well. The eldest daughter of Ataman Erkan Nazar would die as a warrior.
Chapter 12
WILL HAD GONE back to his cabin, changed clothes, and looked every inch like a swaggering South Dakotan cowboy when he strolled into the vet’s office. And from the pleasant smell of soap emanating off him, Dannette guessed he’d showered.
He changed his appearance like a politician changed plat-forms. Where had the guy with the look and equipment of a special-ops soldier disappeared to?
Dani didn’t know what to believe about Will Masterson, and the worry around his dark eyes did nothing to sort things out in her heart.
“You okay?” he greeted Dannette, who was sitting in the vet’s waiting room, her knees up, her hands locked around them. Next to her, Sarah slumped in a chair sleeping, her hair tumbling out of her ponytail and wisping around her dirt-streaked face. They both looked wrung out and rumpled.
Dannette answered with a shrug. No fair that Will looked like he’d had a complete eight hours of sleep, even though he’d left only an hour ago. The Boy Scout side of him had waited until Missy had emerged from surgery with a positive prognosis before he went to clean up.
“Any news?”
�
�They don’t know. They bound her broken ribs and stopped the internal bleeding. She’s sedated for now.” Dannette pressed her fingertips to her eyes, feeling weak, fighting another wave of tears.
Will knelt before her and touched her knee. He’d not only bathed but added some really nice-smelling cologne. Devastatingly nice. Or maybe it was the contrast to her oh-so-yummy forest-and-sweat scent. She felt as if she’d crawled through cobwebs and had twigs and moss and crawly things tangled in her greasy hair. A real beauty queen.
“You need some sleep,” he said.
She sighed, nodded. “I wish Missy were human. I’d go in there, lie down beside her, hold her hand, tell her how much I love her.” She hadn’t quite meant to unload all that, but the kindness in his eyes drew it out of her.
“She knows, Dani.” Will took her hand, rubbed it. She stared at her hand in his, startled by the gesture, especially when he trailed his thumb over the back of her hand. He had strong, capable hands and arms, and she couldn’t deny that a large part of her simply wanted to sink inside them and hang on.
She must be very, very tired.
She pulled her hand away. In addition to feeling like walking toxic waste, she felt as if her emotions had been mauled by a couple of large rottweilers. And she was hungry; she was pretty sure she hadn’t eaten in about forty days.
As if he could read her thoughts, Will stood and picked up her backpack. “C’mon. I’m taking you back to your motel. You should shower and climb into bed.” He nudged Sarah with his foot. “You too, sunshine.”
Sarah groaned, came half awake.
“In the meantime, I’ll drive up to the rest area and retrieve the trucks.”
“Who? You and your clone?” Sarah sat up and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. “Or are you going to simply jog out there and pick them up? I mean, it’s a mere thirty miles. You’ll be back in a jiffy.”
He gave a sardonic grin. “I called a friend from the paper.”
Dannette let him pull her to her feet, his words carving into her sleep-fuddled brain. Oh yeah, he was a reporter, not a member of a north woods SWAT team.
Obviously, she’d left rational thought back there on the shore and returned with only her suspicions. She should pay attention to the fact that he had helped her carry Missy to the vet, abandoning any sort of diabolical agenda he might have had for sneaking around in the woods. And that included even his reporter’s agenda, right?
Confused, she swallowed hard and trudged over to the reception desk. “Can I inquire about Missy?”
The vet tech gave her a sympathetic look. “She’s still in recovery. Why don’t you leave your number and we’ll call you?”
Dannette scratched out her number, then followed Will and Sarah out into the parking lot. The sun simmered over the eastern horizon, warming the puddles left by the storm. Even here in Moose Bend carnage littered the parking lot.
Dannette suddenly felt frail, remembering the way the tempest had simply picked them up and tossed them against the rocks, buried them under debris.
Just like Ashley.
She often wondered how her sister had felt, gulped by the twister. Now she knew.
She wished she didn’t.
Dannette decided to let Will drive and slid into the middle seat of her truck. Sarah climbed in beside her.
“Where are you staying?” he asked.
Dannette gave him directions, then asked, “Was anyone else hurt in the storm last night?”
Will started the truck and backed out. “I stopped by the office. Evidently the storm started in northwest Minnesota, and by the time it hit the BWCAW they clocked winds at 120 mph. The wind can toss a semi at 70 mph, so we’re lucky to be alive.”
“Hopefully we’ll all live,” Dannette said softly.
Will glanced at her as he turned onto the street. “She’ll make it.”
Dannette nodded.
“There are people missing and lost up and down the shore,” Will continued after a moment. “If you weren’t already searching for that little girl, you’d be answering a call-out.”
“I’m not going anywhere without Missy.” The very thought of facing the woods alone sent a shudder through her. She knew all about being alone with her fears, and somehow Missy or Sherlock, her bloodhound, had always been enough to keep those fears outside her perimeter.
Without Missy, the nightmares would close in.
“Will, how about if you wait around while I change; then I’ll drive with you to get your truck and Sarah’s Jeep,” Dannette said.
Will frowned, one eyebrow down in disagreement.
Dannette shook her head. “I can’t sleep. Not with Missy in danger. I gotta keep moving. Please?”
He searched her eyes, and for a second she thought he might be able to read right through to her fears of being alone right now. He even reached out and squeezed her hand. Reassuringly. Friendly.
When he let go, she hated how much she missed his touch. Yes, she’d definitely left a huge part of her common sense back in the woods. Perhaps he was a stalker—he certainly knew how to blindside her heart.
No, no she would not fall for a guy who spilled secrets and destroyed lives for a living. Even if he did have a way of making her feel oddly safe, even protected.
“Okay. I’ll wait in the truck while you get changed,” he said.
She managed a slight smile.
“I’m going to call Micah and update him,” Sarah said, looking out the window.
Dannette leaned her head on Sarah’s shoulder. “Thanks for everything.”
Sarah took her hand. “God’s mercies are new every morning. Remember that, okay? His grace is sufficient for this moment.”
Yeah, and what about the moment when Missy died? Dannette closed her eyes, forcing herself beyond that thought.
Will nearly argued with her. Dani was tired and needed some rest. But the fact that she’d leaned into his hand, squeezing back a little and looking at him with some sort of silent request … well, the feeling of longing that he’d been fighting went to full boil in his chest.
Friends. Full stop. Just friends.
Dani had looked pretty good in the duds she had on—even if they were grimy. Yet, when she emerged from her motel room less than thirty minutes later, her hair still wet, wearing jeans, a clean sweatshirt, and a down vest, he had to admit that it was worth the wait.
Just friends.
She slid into the truck, smelling of shampoo. Fresh. Sweet. “Thanks for waiting.”
“Thanks for your help.” Just friends.
He hadn’t quite figured out whom he would get to help him haul the vehicles home. Sarah’s suggestion that he jog out there didn’t feel so far from the truth. Maybe hitchhike. It wasn’t like he really had any friends at the paper to ask. Not the kind who would do him a favor at least. He thought of Sally Appleton at border control. He wouldn’t count her in his circle of friends.
Okay, he’d admit that his circle looked pretty meager. Dani, however, had managed to stick one foot in, as if testing the water. It was all he could do not to lunge at it like a largemouth bass, despite the warnings screaming in his head. He didn’t have time to make friends or anything else. He had a mission—find one very lost girl and intercept one terrorist attack.
Hopefully, however, his only mission for today was to keep Dani’s mind off trekking back into the woods and to sit tight while HQ checked out a report of a trucker who’d picked up a teenage girl thirty miles south of Moose Bend. But if said report panned out, he’d be heading south by tomorrow.
So much for being Dani’s friend.
He tried not to let that thought dampen the fact that he had about eight clear hours to spend with Dani before he turned in his reporter’s badge and became yet another person.
“Are you hungry?” he asked as he pulled out of the lot.
“I think I could eat a moose.”
He glanced at her, and she wore a soft smile. It did dangerous things to his pulse, especially when she ad
ded a hint of warmth in those hazel eyes. “Great. Okay. Let me buy you a venison sausage omelette from Nancy’s. I promise it’ll be better than our last meal together.”
She buckled her seat belt. “Promise no digging for information? No hint of sniffing out a headline or tunneling for SAR facts?”
“Yeah, I promise.” His job as a reporter was the last thing on his mind at the moment, but her hatred of journalists still bothered him, like an itch longing to be scratched. What was that about, and how could they get past it?
The one logical answer—honesty—made him flinch, and he put it out of his mind as they drove to Nancy’s.
“This town has really been razed,” Dani said as they passed downed tree limbs, two electrical trucks, and a tow truck.
“I guess the power went out for a while too. The hospital ran on generators for three hours.”
“Those winds were scary.”
“Yeah. I’ve been in lots of storms, but nothing like that.”
“Life’s like that, I think. We never know what forces are out there until they affect our lives.”
“Like the attachment to an animal?”
She gave him a sad smile. “Or maybe an unexpected friend.”
Oh. His mouth dried and breath fully left his chest. He swallowed twice before words came out of his mouth. “I appreciate your faith in me.”
“Well, perhaps I recognize God’s provision in my life. You were really a lifesaver out there last night. I’m really sorry that I was so hard on you.”
He shrugged, but her words felt like gentle rain on all his dry and achy places. Probably too much. He smiled, covering the emotions that roughened his voice. “So, how is Sarah doing?”
“She crashed. She told me not to wake her until I had news on Missy.”
Escape to Morning Page 14