Chapter Thirteen
J.T. turned and walked back to where Reggie waited in the trees. He should have been relieved that there was an FBI agent here.
“I don’t trust him,” Reggie said after they’d gotten out of earshot.
“Neither do I,” J.T. said quietly. If Jarvis was right, Claude had ridden the shortcut the day before. For what reason? Looking for a place to attack? And when had Will Jarvis gotten away to follow him?
They could reach the ranch before dark if they continued down the mountain the way they were headed. But with the storm and the low clouds, they were losing light fast. They would be easy pickings. And if Will Jarvis was right, Claude had already anticipated that this was the way they would come.
Not to mention that Jarvis could be behind them right now, following them, tracking them.
Not too far down the mountain, they ran out of snow. In good light, J.T. knew they could still be tracked even without the snow. He was counting on it getting dark before anyone would find them. He couldn’t risk going for the ranch as badly as he wanted to.
He rode along the side of the mountain, weaving through the trees, keeping just below the snow line to hide their tracks before he turned toward the rock rim high above them.
REGINA LOOKED UP at the band of red rock and realized that was where they were headed. Not the ranch. She’d been turned around since she got to Montana. Without an ocean nearby or any distinguishing buildings, she couldn’t tell east from west.
But she was smart enough to know they weren’t headed for the ranch. The ranch was down the mountain and they were headed up.
As J.T. dismounted at the foot of the wall of rock, she lost all hope of a hot bath and a real bed.
“We aren’t going to the ranch,” Reggie said as he lifted her down.
“Sorry. Too dangerous. We’ll leave before it gets light. Don’t worry, by tomorrow morning you’ll see civilization again.”
She nodded. She ached all over and realized she could sleep anywhere. As long as she didn’t have to ride a horse anymore today.
“Come on.” He led her and the horses along the edge of the rock face.
The boots were too large and she stumbled several times and almost fell. Her ankle ached and she was limping badly.
“Here, take my hand,” he said, removing her glove and enclosing her hand in his large one. His hand was warm and strong and she wished he would do the same with her entire body. She felt cold and so tired that picking up her feet took every ounce of her energy.
Finally, he stopped. In the last of the light, she could see that they were high above the valley. Lights glittered in the far distance. Her chest ached from the climb and sudden longing to be down there away from the cold and horses and killers.
“This way,” McCall said, as if sensing her yearning for the city and everything she’d left behind. He led her and the horses through a narrow slit in the rocks. The space opened, a tree towering over their heads. J.T. shoved one of the branches aside, and leaving the horses, pulled her into what she realized was a cave.
Once through the small opening, he snapped on a flashlight and she saw that she could stand up. It was cold and dark in here but the floor was dirt and soft.
“Here,” he said handing her the flashlight. “I’ll tend to the horses and be right back.”
He was good to his word. He returned with firewood and built a small fire in a corner near a crack in the rock. The smoke rose and disappeared out through the crack.
“Still cold?” he asked as she curled around the fire, unable to keep her eyes open.
“A little.” The side of her body exposed to the fire was warm but her other side was cold. She kept turning like a chicken on a rotisserie but still couldn’t get everything warmed.
“Here, lie down,” he said.
She curled around the fire and felt him lie down behind her, curling his warm body around hers.
“Better?”
“Hmmm,” she said and closed her eyes, the fire flickering on her face, the crackling of the flames lulling her.
“You did really well today,” he whispered. “You’re okay, Regina Holland.”
She opened her eyes and smiled to herself before closing them again and falling into a deep sleep. She didn’t hear the scream that awakened J.T.
J.T. GOT UP, careful not to wake Reggie and, picking up the rifle, went out of the cave to the edge of the cliff.
The night was cold and clear. He wished to hell he was at the ranch and that Reggie was upstairs asleep in the guest bedroom, safe. But he knew he’d made the right decision to wait.
He let his gaze travel down the mountainside to where Will Jarvis had camped, not sure what he thought he might be able to see. Maybe the trees around the clearing on fire.
There was nothing but darkness. Nor did he hear another sound. He told himself that the scream he’d heard could have been a mountain lion. Men didn’t usually scream like that. Unless they were in a lot of pain.
He shivered, thinking of Claude Ryan. If Will Jarvis was right, Claude would kill as many people as it took to get to him.
Back inside the cave, the fire had burned down to coals. He covered Reggie with his coat, then went to sit in the shadows at the cave entrance to wait. They would ride out at first light, going down a way that Claude would least expect—straight down to the county road.
A DARK SHADOW moved over her. Startled, Regina jerked back.
“It’s just me,” McCall whispered. “Sorry to scare you.”
She blinked, trying to wake up, the dream still with her, a dark weight that pulled at her. “I was having this horrible dream….”
“It was just a dream,” he said and sat down across from her, the fire between them.
She sat up, letting herself drift as she stared into the flames of the fire and soaked up the heat. She could tell it was the middle of the night, still dark outside.
“Wishing you had just gone with a model?”
She looked up at him over the top of the fire and shook her head.
He chuckled softly. “You still haven’t given up.”
“Have you given up getting back to the ranch, getting away from this madman?”
He shook his head, licked his thumb and reached across the fire to wipe a smudge of dirt from her cheek.
She froze, her gaze locking with his. He seemed to hold his breath. The fire popped softly. He drew back his hand to rest it on his thigh.
She reached out to touch his fingers. Her hand was cool on his but it sent a shaft of heat through him.
He shook his head. “You don’t want to do this, Reggie.”
She smiled a little at that. “I’m a big girl, McCall. I know what I want.” Tears shone in her eyes. “Hold me?”
He moved around the fire to her. She melted into his arms. The flames flared, sparks rising into the darkness of the cave.
She felt soft and warm and he wanted to envelop himself in her, to feel the pounding of her pulse, to hear the drum of her heart, to assure himself that she was alive. That he was alive as well.
He tried to think of tomorrow, how they would both feel if he did the one thing he wanted, make love to her. But right now it didn’t feel as if there would be a tomorrow. There was only now. The two of them in this cave. A crazy homicidal maniac or two out in the darkness.
Her kiss was soft, a gentle kiss, tentative, questioning.
His answering kiss was fire and heat, all consuming. She had known that it would be all or nothing with him. Like the first kiss, McCall didn’t do anything halfway. He wrapped her in his arms, in his kiss.
Her pulse jumped at his gentle touch, his big hands stroking her body until she was the fire, burning hot inside the cave. His mouth moved over her, warm and wet, sparking fissures of pleasure, stripping her bare beneath her clothing until he possessed every inch of her body.
Wrapped in his arms, he took her as she cried out in pleasure and release, her body pressed hot against his damp flesh, his mouth stealing her cries as the fire flamed, shadows flickering on the cave walls.
“IT’S TIME.”
Regina opened her eyes. He still held her, his face inches from her own, their bodies melded together, clothes pushed aside, sleeping bare skin to bare skin.
She didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to leave this cave. Or his arms. But she feared they couldn’t stay here for long. Just as she feared what waited for them outside.
He moved away from her, getting up to dress. Cold air skittered over her exposed flesh. She could feel his eyes on her as she sat up and covered herself.
When she read his expression, she saw that he wanted to make love to her again almost as badly as she wanted him to. But faint light bled into the cave. They had to leave, had to try to get to the ranch. She tried not to think about all the miles. Or the darkness of the trees. The shadows that could be death.
She rose and stumbled ahead of him to the cave entrance, her ankle aching along with the rest of her muscles. She clung to their lovemaking, to the memory of McCall’s gentle hands, and tried not to look into the shadows as she stepped outside.
A slice of moon still hung in the dark sky high over the valley, a few stars, a shimmer of light low on the horizon the only hint of the coming day.
Regina shivered in spite of herself. The horses were saddled. McCall must have slipped away to do that, then returned to lie next to her. She couldn’t remember ever being this tired. Her whole body ached and she felt cold all the way to her bones.
Just the thought of getting back in the saddle made her want to cry. He helped her up onto the horse as if sensing her resistance.
He walked the horses down the mountainside. She had to lean way back to keep from going over the horse’s head, the terrain was so steep. Finally they reached flatter ground and he stepped into his saddle, motioning for her to keep quiet.
She nodded. It wasn’t like she had anything to say this time of the day anyway. It was too late to be out on the town, even in L.A., and too early to be getting up. She would have been sleeping in her warm bed, worrying about work, not worrying about dying.
The dream she’d had earlier in the night came back to her. She could feel it around her, hanging over her like a dense awful shroud. She couldn’t remember a lot of it, just that horrible feeling of being grabbed by the man. She never even saw his face. He’d come at her from behind, covering her mouth, then her eyes, then binding her so she couldn’t move, couldn’t scream.
She shuddered at the memory and let the horse lull her, drifting in and out of sleep, her mind like thick fog.
Regina heard the sound first, a noise off to her right. She opened her eyes, startled as she caught movement coming at her from the side.
The man came out of a thick stand of pines, running low, reaching for her, one bloody hand out-stretched, the other clutching a knife. The blade glistened in the dull light of the day where the blood hadn’t completely dried.
She screamed and tried to get off the horse, but her boot was stuck in the stirrup. Riding in front of her, McCall spun his horse around and was already leaping down as the man grabbed her calf with his free hand.
McCall lunged at the man, knocking him to the ground with the butt of the rifle.
Regina’s horse reared and suddenly she was falling through the air. She landed on the ground hard, all the air knocked from her lungs.
When she looked up she saw McCall standing over Will Jarvis, the rifle pointed at the man’s head.
“Are you all right?” McCall cried, moving to her side, while keeping the rifle aimed at Jarvis.
She could only nod.
“Can you move?”
She nodded again. But she didn’t want to move. She wanted to lie here. She promised herself she would never get back on a horse.
“Help me,” Jarvis whispered.
She could see the blood across the front of his coat, on his hands and the knife, and realized it was his blood he had all over him.
He released the knife, dropping it as his fingers opened and his eyes closed.
She heard another noise. McCall turned to listen. It sounded like a vehicle coming slowly up the mountain. As she turned her head, she thought she saw what looked like a dirt track down the hillside through the trees. A road?
J.T. motioned her to silence as a truck came around a bend in the road below them.
She saw the Sundown Ranch logo on the side and began to cry. There was no way the driver would be able to see them up here on the hillside. He would drive right past.
McCall raised the rifle, the barrel pointed to the sky and fired three shots. They boomed in the morning air.
The driver of the truck hit his brakes. Dust boiled up. McCall fired another three shots and the driver was out of the car, looking up the hillside.
Regina closed her eyes, tears spilling down her cheeks. When she opened them, two men with blond hair and blue eyes were looking at her in something close to disbelief. One of the brothers, the one J.T. was calling Cash, had on a sheriff’s uniform.
Vaguely she remembered McCall lifting her from the ground, touching her forehead, his palm ice-cold and him saying, “My God, she’s burning up.”
He’d carried her down to the truck. She remembered leaning against him, her face buried in his chest, his arm around her, shivering, trying to say something but her lips felt so dry and her mind so filled with fog…. She thought she recalled McCall’s lips against her hair whispering, “You’re going to be all right, Reggie” as the truck bumped down the mountainside.