Every Step She Takes (Who's Watching Now Book 2) (12 page)

“Travis.”

He glanced over at Grace. Lines of strain bracketed her mouth, and her eyes were shadowed. His chest tightened, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss the worry off her face. Instead, he offered an encouraging look.

“We’re going to get out of here. I promise.”

She nodded once. “Be careful, okay.”

“Always. I’ll be back in thirty minutes. Rest.”

With a second nod, she sat down next to Wylie. One arm hugged the dog to her side, and he could feel her gaze following him as he slipped into the trees.

Darkness blurred trees and bushes when he returned to camp a half-hour later. There’d been no sign of their pursuer on this side of the meadow. No indication anyone had been in the area since he and Grace arrived. He’d sat perfectly still just inside the edge of the forest, scanning the woods on the far side of the meadow with the binoculars. Not one shadow moved. Not a single bird squawked in annoyance at an unwanted intruder. Either no one was there, or the guy had the patience of a cat sitting at a mouse hole.

On that encouraging thought, he entered their makeshift camp. He’d wait another half-hour, until the last hint of daylight had faded from the sky, then move. Sutton appeared to be asleep over near the spring. Only Wylie raised his head as he crossed to Grace’s side and dropped onto the ground. Leaning back against the bole of a spruce, he closed his eyes.

“Anything?”

His lids snapped up. “No, I thought you were asleep.”

“Too tense.” She stretched on the sleeping pad she’d rolled out and propped herself up on one elbow. “When do we leave?”

“Not long, just as soon as it’s fully dark.”

She patted the spot next to her, and he moved over to lie beside her. Wrapping her in his arms, he tucked her head beneath his chin. Slow, even breathing pressed her breasts against his chest, but he wasn’t tempted to start something. Not much, anyway. Just holding her close was enough.

“I want you to know last night meant more to me than a quick tumble in the sack.” Her breath hitched. “We haven’t known each other very long, but I really do care.” She let out a long sigh. “A lot.”

He kissed the crown of her head, soft hair caressing his lips. Warmth filled him. “I care, too. Once this is over, we’ll work something out to see each other.” His arms tightened. “If you want to.”

“I do, but I’m a realist. San Francisco is a long way from Seattle, and we both have demanding careers. Maybe we’ll try for a while, but then one month will become two. You’ll meet someone else, or I will. Guilt will eat at us, but we’ll shrug it off. Life will pull us in opposite directions, and all that’ll be left is a memory.”

He didn’t respond as an ache settled in his chest. He didn’t want to lose Grace, didn’t want to watch her walk away without even trying.

“It doesn’t have to be like that.”

“Chances are it will be.” She reached up to stroke his cheek. “I don’t want to be the girl sitting by a phone that doesn’t ring. I don’t like getting my heart broken.”

“More likely, it’ll be the other way around.” Framing her face in his hands, he kissed her. “Can we at least try? If it doesn’t work, we’ll give it up.”

She pressed her lips to his throat. “My track record with men sucks. I want to be upfront about that. I don’t imagine a long distance relationship will improve the odds of success.”

“My life has always been about taking risks. I’m willing to embrace this one.”

She touched his hair, her fingers lingering at the back of his neck. “Why?”

“Because you’re worth it.”

Adrenaline rushed through Grace in a raging torrent as she ran flat out, headed toward the dark blur in the distance that marked the edge of the meadow. Her mind emptied of everything but putting one foot in front of the other, focusing on her breathing, arms swinging in an efficient rhythm. Wylie trotted close, never veering from her side. Vaguely, she was aware of Sutton behind her, gasping for air. After the first mile, he’d dropped back some, and Travis slowed to run with him. They didn’t dare talk; the risk of sound carrying in the night was far too great, but she knew his mere presence would encourage the other man to keep up the excruciating pace. God knew she was willing to do just about anything for one of Travis’s smiles. Except leave the recorder behind. It was tucked in her zippered jacket pocket beside the notebook, slapping against her side with each step. The key to her future success.

The dark blur of trees grew closer, maybe a quarter mile away. She blinked when a pinpoint of light appeared, a tiny red beam in the near blackness.

“Get down!”

Travis’s shout echoed a split second before the crack of a rifle. Grace dropped and rolled, heard a muffled groan. Heart pounding so hard she was sure it would burst, she flattened to the ground, one arm clamped around Wylie.

“Travis?”

“Sutton’s hit.” His voice was a whisper. “I want you to go ahead. Stay low, but run like hell. Head straight to the lodge for help, and don’t trust anyone you see on the trail. Go. Go.”

“Travis.” Her voice cracked.
I love you.
The words echoed in her head, but she didn’t say them. It was the adrenaline talking anyway.

“Damn it, go!”

Kneeling first, Grace sprang to her feet then kept her head down and ran with a burst of speed induced by sheer terror. Sprinting right, she altered course to the left. A shot echoed as the wind from a bullet brushed her cheek. The rifle exploded again. Zigging and zagging, she flew the last hundred yards and dove into the cover of the trees. Panting for air, she lay still for a few precious moments before raising her head to squint into the night. No dark shape running. Fear compressed her lungs. Was Travis wounded but hadn’t told her? His blood seeping into the dead, meadow grass? She covered her mouth to hold back a sob.

Wylie pressed against her side and whined as her pulse throbbed in a frantic rhythm. Should she go back to help them? Surely if Sutton was dead, Travis would have left his body where it fell. The fact that he hadn’t followed her must mean Casey was alive but wounded. A little moan slipped through her lips. Unless they were both hurt. Or dead.

Travis had told her to seek help at the lodge, but a fierce need to go back and check on him drove her to her feet. Common sense stopped her before she’d gone more than a few steps. Was she a complete fool to risk getting shot? She wouldn’t be able to help him if she got herself killed. Grace pressed her fingers to her temples and forced her breathing to slow. She’d do as Travis had asked—demanded—and go for help.

Really, there wasn’t another choice. Turning, she fled into the forest.

* * * *

“You’re not going to die, Casey. We’re both going to get out of here if you’ll just listen to me.” Travis tore a long strip off the bottom of his T-shirt. Lying flat on his back, he wrapped the cloth around the man’s arm and knotted it. Luckily, the bullet had gone through the fleshy part and hadn’t struck a bone, but the wound was bleeding like a mother.

“Easy for you to say since you aren’t the one who took a bullet.”

“Keep your voice down. In about ten minutes, the moon is going to rise over those trees, and he’ll pick us off like ducks in a pond. So, quit whining and get ready to move.”

“Shit, man, I can’t run. My head is spinning, and I feel like I’m going to puke.”

“Start crawling, now. On your hands and knees. Let’s go.”

Moaning and swearing, Sutton plowed through the grass. At his current speed, they’d never make it.

Travis rose to a crouch. “I’m going to head to the left. I want you to stay as low to the ground as you can and go right. Let’s hope it’s me he tries to pick off.”

“You’re going to desert me?”

He sucked in a long breath then let it out slowly. “I’m going to draw his fire. I’ll catch up to you in the woods.”

“What if he shoots you?”

The temptation to leave Sutton to fend for himself rose to the top of his to do list. If Fritz wasn’t counting on him to bring the man in… “Get down to the lodge as quickly as you can. If you hear anyone, anyone at all, hide.”

Sutton nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

Travis sprang up, then sprinted, zigzagging across the meadow on a tangent. Behind him, Sutton’s raspy breathing, surely an indication he was on the move, faded. A crack of gunfire, and a foot to his left dirt sprayed up as a bullet embedded in the ground. The shot had come in at an angle, so the shooter had found a patch of high ground.

He cut hard to the right then left again. Another shot echoed, another spurt of dirt. He was nearing the trees. If he reached cover too soon… A trail of flame seared the flesh of his right shoulder as the next bullet hit its mark.

His shoulder was on fire. He’d tempted fate long enough. Hopefully Sutton had reached cover. If not… A bullet plowed into the ground inches in front of his foot. With a dive and roll, he flung himself into the shelter of the trees then sprang to his feet. The sniper would be in pursuit the second he realized his prey had safely crossed the meadow. Dodging tree limbs and praying he wouldn’t trip and sprain an ankle, Travis headed west in the direction Sutton had taken—and nearly tripped over his prone form.

Casey lay sprawled on the ground just inside the trees. He rolled into a fetal position and shook his head. “No more. I can’t do it.”

Grabbing him by his uninjured arm, Travis hauled him to his feet. “You damn well will do it. I didn’t come this far to have our marksman take you out now. For Christ’s sake, Casey, man up. We’ll find someplace to hide and see to your wound.” He probed his shoulder and winced, pulling away sticky fingers. “And mine.”

“Shit.”

“It’s just a nick, but I need to stop the bleeding. Let’s go. We have to bury ourselves in these woods before the shooter finds us. Once we’re patched up, we’ll head down off this damn mountain.”

“What about Grace?”

Ducking under a low hanging branch, Travis stilled for a second before moving on. “I’m betting Grace is halfway to the lodge by now. The woman doesn’t stop when she has a goal within her reach.”

Sutton snorted. “I know all about her goals. Let’s hope she sends help before she sits down to write my story.”

“She’s not as tough as she pretends. Grace is caring and vulnerable. She’s—”

A laugh wheezed out on an exhaled breath. “You’ve got it bad, man, and I don’t envy you one bit. Getting tangled with a woman like that is just asking to have your heart served up as a main course with your self-esteem accompanying it.”

“Maybe.” He pressed his lips together. “Probably.”

“No doubt about it. Get out while you still can.”

Travis pictured Grace’s smile, her lips tilted in an expression full of life and amusement, the way her eyes softened when he kissed her…

“Too late.”

* * * *

Grace’s legs shook as she jogged down the trail. With the moon riding high in the sky, the visibility was decent. Her mouth was drier than week old pizza crust, but there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. At her side, Wylie’s ears drooped but he gamely kept pace. One foot in front of the other, she focused on the goal. When her thoughts veered once again to the shots that had echoed through the forest, she pushed them away.

Travis was in exceptional condition. He was smart and trained for this type of situation. He was fine. She kept moving, repeating the mantra over and over.
He’s fine. He’s fine.

Behind her, a rock skittered across the trail and footsteps pounded. Grace dived behind a thicket of salmon berry bushes and pushed Wylie down beside her. Heart hammering, she clamped her hand around the dog’s snout, and by some miracle, he stayed quiet and didn’t bite her. The steps slowed then passed. She released Wylie, and with shaking hands, parted the leaves and pink flowers to peer through.

A man disappeared around a bend in the trail. At least she assumed it was a man. In the moonlight, his head and shoulders were outlined against the forest backdrop, a rifle slung across his back, the long, narrow barrel pointed skyward.

She lay still, waiting for her racing pulse to slow down. He’d been fairly tall, almost as tall as Travis, but thinner. Lou Russo was too heavy, Alma too short. Either fisherman Andy or frat boy Archer was approximately the right size. The quick glimpse hadn’t been enough to tell her which one it was. Not with any certainty. Not when it meant staking her life on it.

Exhaustion preyed on her stretched nerves. If the sniper turned and came back, she couldn’t rely on her reflexes. She’d been lucky this time. If he hadn’t kicked a rock at just the right moment…

“Let’s get some sleep. What do you say, boy?”

Wylie whined and licked her hand. Taking a breath, she pushed up off the ground and headed away from the trail to dodge between two trees. Clambering over a fallen log, she dropped onto the mossy bed beside it and curled into a ball. Wylie pressed against her with welcoming warmth as a sudden chill shook her. She’d rest for an hour or two then head out. With a prayer for Travis’s safety on her lips, she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.

She woke as the first hint of dawn filtered through the trees. Blinking at the grayish light, she yawned and stretched then stilled when her calf cramped. She wasn’t tucked up beside Travis in their tent. Wylie was keeping her back warm, but her muscles were stiff and sore. Massaging her lower leg, she rose to her feet then brushed off a couple of dead leaves and rubbed grainy eyes. A glance at her watch told her she’d slept for just over two hours. Time to move.

Walking first to warm up, she slowly increased her pace to a jog.
Where is Travis?
The question plagued her as she ran down a sharp incline and rounded a bend. Were he and Casey making their way back to the lodge or hiding somewhere in the woods, waiting for her to return with help? She wouldn’t consider any other alternative. Couldn’t think about it.

As the sun crept higher in the sky, she pulled one of the power bars out of her pocket and choked it down. She wouldn’t actually kill for the fresh spring water they’d enjoyed the night before. Maim, maybe. Or badly injure.

Delirium must be setting in or she wouldn’t be having such crazy thoughts.