Brace For Impact Page 9

  Fifteen minutes later she discovered how right Will was. Still squeaking after yanking her hands out, she couldn’t understand why the water was running and not frozen solid. Still, it was astonishingly clear and sparkled in the late-afternoon sun slanting through the tree branches.

  She would have felt more self-conscious when she took her shirt off if Will’s expression hadn’t been so clinical. He examined her arm above and below the splint but decided not to take it off. He cleaned some grazes and gashes she’d almost forgotten about and then smeared ointment on them. After finding where the biggest lump had been on her head, he gave a grunt she took for satisfaction.

  He removed her boots and socks himself, then helped her wriggle out of her jeans. That was when he saw something that made him mutter a sharp expletive.

  Maddy twisted to try to see, too.

  Even his gentle touch made her jump.

  “It’s infected, all right,” he growled.

  She couldn’t get a good look at the spot she’d like to think was on her lower back but was probably actually her butt.

  By the time he finished washing pus from what he said was an open cut, Maddy was gasping, her hands knotted into fists.

  He must have said he was sorry ten times.

  Eventually, he dug out clean jeans, shirt and underwear for her.

  “I think you can do without these.” He rolled up her pajama pants that had served as long underwear and stuffed them toward the bottom of the pack. Then he left her on the mossy edge of the stream to wash.

  “Call if you need me. I won’t be far.”

  Ice-cold water or not, it felt good to wash everyplace she could reach. Although, wow, getting her hands on a razor jumped higher on her “I wish” list.

  Still a few notches down from escaping a couple of merciless killers, of course.

  As clean as she could make herself, she summoned Will, who buttoned the waist of her jeans and eased a T-shirt over her head and her splinted arm. He topped that with one of his sweatshirts, large enough to fit over the splint.

  Squatting in front of her, rolling up the sleeves one at a time, Will once again demonstrated his extraordinary patience. His head bent, he concentrated on what he was doing, determined, Maddy knew, not to hurt her. How those big hands could be so deft and gentle both was a puzzle. She imagined him, suddenly, with a child. Watching him, she felt her heart cramp and her eyes sting. With the physical symptoms came the unsettling realization that she could love this man. Or maybe already did. Even the idea of saying goodbye to him was unimaginable.

  If he didn’t feel the same, she’d have no choice. She couldn’t burden him with expectations he wouldn’t want. Worse, he’d probably call what she felt gratitude.

  Suddenly, she wanted to touch his beard. Find out whether it was wiry, prickly or soft. He probably wouldn’t mind, but...

  Sighing, she suddenly became aware that he’d rocked back on his heels and was looking straight at her, his expression quizzical. Blushing fiercely, she said, “Your turn. I’m, um, sorry the towel is so wet.”

  He only nodded. “Take it easy for a few minutes. I’ll start dinner as soon as I’m done.”

  Maddy retreated to their campsite and sat on the sleeping bag with her back to him. She closed her eyes, listened for every tiny sound and resisted the temptation to peek.

  * * *

  WILL STUCK HIS head in the stream and used the soap to wash his hair. He did it as much to cool his over-heated body as because he cared whether his hair was grungy.

  He’d give a lot to know what Maddy had been thinking to make her blush. Wondering was enough to tie his gut in a knot. It didn’t seem to matter what he’d decided about the gulf between them. His body didn’t want to hear it. And maybe he was wrong. Did any of those slick attorneys and businessmen in their custom-tailored suits deserve this gutsy woman?

  Not in his book.

  He did the best he could with the bar of soap and ice-cold water. Clean clothes felt good, although they’d be ripped, sweat-soaked and dirty an hour into their morning hike. Plus, it was his last set of clean clothes.

  Will rubbed his hand reflectively over his jaw and neck. Damn, he did wish he could shave. He’d frequently let his beard go when on patrol, of course, but it invariably began to itch. He’d always scraped it off first thing.

  Back at their campsite, Maddy sat unmoving. When she heard him, she burst out, “I wish I wasn’t so useless.”

  “It’s a miracle you aren’t dead,” he said brusquely. “Remember the part where you fell out of the sky?”

  “Yes, but—” She pinched her lips together. “Never mind.”

  He crouched in front of her. “What’s wrong, Maddy? What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t even know how to use a camp stove to heat water! And if I did, I probably couldn’t anyway with only one hand.”

  “That’s not it.”

  She averted her face. He used his knuckles beneath her chin to turn it back.

  “I’m mad,” she said suddenly. “They stole my life! I’ve had no say in anything for a year now. Do you know what that feels like?”

  “Yeah,” he said drily. “I was in the military.”

  “You chose it!”

  Had he? Sure, he’d signed the papers, but given the freedom she’d taken for granted, he’d have chosen college, not becoming an army grunt.

  But he said, “Once you testify, it’ll all be over.” In half the time of a two-year enlistment. He rose to his feet, but before he could go to his pack she grabbed the leg of his pants.

  “Wait.”

  He did just that.

  “I’m sorry. I despise whining. Plus, I sounded like a spoiled brat. I’m...not usually like that.”

  Will couldn’t resist the plea in her hazel eyes. He crouched again to put himself closer to her level and said, “You’re entitled to some whining. The past year has to have been frustrating and frightening both, and now you’ve had an epically bad few days. It’s taken a lot of courage to go on the way you have. Does it really matter if you can’t boil water?”

  “No,” she whispered. “You’re right. Ignore me.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not gonna happen, babe.”

  “Babe?”

  He grinned. “Thought that’d get to you.”

  As he set up the small stove, he gave the fuel can a surreptitious shake. Not a lot left. Surely enough to boil water a few more times to make coffee.

  Once he had it fired up, he asked for Maddy’s menu preference.

  “Pasta primavera,” she said promptly.

  While they ate, he asked her to tell him about the life she’d “lost”—although he didn’t phrase it that way. He was curious, yes, but also needed to shore up his defenses.

  She paused with her spoon in the packet. “Well... I had an apartment in West Seattle. Nice but not that fancy. I was lucky to find it given how expensive Seattle has gotten. At least I got to say goodbye to my parents, but I don’t know if they are still paying the rent, or picked up my stuff and let the apartment go.”

  “Car?”

  “Yes, because I needed it to see clients. I hardly ever drove it otherwise. Parking is hard to find, and you can get anywhere on the bus. There’s a grocery store only half a mile from my place, and I like walking.” She made a face. “I used to like walking.”

  Will smiled.

  “I was seeing another attorney.” She gazed into space for a minute then gave her head a shake. “I don’t think it would have gone anywhere. I’m sure he’s long since moved on.”

  “What if you get back and find he’s been pining for you?”

  “He won’t be, but it doesn’t matter. We had some fun, that’s all. Anyway, I’m not the same person I was.”

  Will understood that. Her life had been flipped like a coin. Heads, everythin
g was good. Tails, not so much. It was possible she’d slide back into her old life and gradually forget how it felt to be powerless, scared, on the run. She could build walls, or she could just be one of those people who deep down believed their lives were meant to be shiny. Yeah, bad things had happened, but they’d been temporary. A nuisance, that was all. Forgettable.

  But he didn’t believe that, not about Maddy.

  He got her talking about her law firm and the kind of work she did. Since she’d been a defense attorney, it was probably no surprise after her experiences this past year that she admitted to wondering whether she should shift to become a public defender instead, or even a prosecutor.

  “Although the woman, Laura Bessey, who I’d gone to see...” She hesitated. “The one who was murdered. She was dealing with both threats and weird stuff going wrong. She’d been fired from her job for reasons she claimed were pure fiction.”

  “You’re assuming Brian Torkelson was behind all of it.”

  “Given that she’d decided she had to tell someone that he’d raped her, yes.”

  “Eat,” he ordered her.

  She looked startled, but lapsed into silence as she finished her meal. “That was surprisingly good,” she commented.

  “These freeze-dried meals taste a lot better than they look.” His stomach still felt hollow, though, and he wondered if hers did, too. “Dessert?” he asked.

  “Cherry pie à la mode?”

  He laughed. “Almond Joy or Butterfinger.”

  “Maybe later.” She looked around. “It’s so pretty here. So green. The way the light is filtered through the trees makes me think of stained glass.”

  “This is magnificent country. First time I’ve ever climbed in the North Cascades, but it won’t be the last.”

  Sadness crossed her face like a shadow. “Bill—the pilot—was pointing out these incredible peaks with names like Fury and, I don’t know, Terror. I suppose people do climb them.”

  “Yeah, I’m hoping to find a partner to climb with and tackle one or two of them. Not sure I should go alone.”

  “No.” She fell silent for longer than he liked, crinkles forming on her forehead. “I was just thinking I might like backpacking or climbing—although no thousand-foot drop-offs, thank you—only then it occurred to me that maybe this isn’t the best time to be talking about the future.”

  “When better?” Will cleared some gruffness from his throat. “We’re getting out of here, Maddy. My word on it.”

  “You shouldn’t say that.” She seemed to be looking deep inside him. “And I shouldn’t believe you. But... I do.” More softly, she added, “Or at least, I want to.”

  “Hold on to that,” he said quietly. He took her hand in his and discovered it was easier to be optimistic when they had a physical connection.

  * * *

  SOMEBODY CRIED OUT. Maddy reeled back at the hideous sight, an awful stench in her nose and mouth.

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

  “Maddy!” Big hands shook her. “You’re dreaming. It’s not real.”

  Not real? In the darkness, she couldn’t orient herself. Where was she? Who—

  Will. Of course it was Will waking her from a nightmare. Somehow she’d pushed herself to a sitting position, and his arm supported her now.

  She shuddered and turned her face into his chest. He kept soothing her until she mumbled, “I dreamed I was back there. At the crash site, where I found Bill and Scott. Only...only it was a day or two later and their bodies...”

  “Maddy, they’re dead. Unless a body is embalmed, that’s what happens. Nature breaks down the flesh to return it to the earth.”

  The images from her nightmare were slipping away. “I know,” she said after a minute. “I know.” She swallowed. “Do you have nightmares?”

  “I doubt there’s a returning soldier who doesn’t.”

  “So I have lots of company?”

  “Yeah.” Was that a smile in his voice? “You do. Including me. Now, lie down. You need your sleep.”

  “Okay.” She tipped up her face impulsively to kiss his cheek. What she found was his mouth. Consternation mixed with excitement.

  Before she could pull away, he’d lifted a hand to cup the back of her head.

  “Maddy?”

  That was all he said, but despite his hoarseness, she heard the question.

  Chapter Eight

  Her hand rose to his cheek, fingertips sampling his beard. Beard or no, Will felt her warmth. And her touch was answer enough, wasn’t it?

  He brushed her lips with his again, nibbled a little. She sucked in a breath and he took the chance to deepen the kiss. Careful, he told himself. He couldn’t lay her down and expect her to take his weight. Even if she’d been uninjured and not half out of her mind with a fever...he couldn’t take this that far. Not when she depended on him for her life. Not when he knew that what either of them felt right now might not be real.

  But he savored this kiss, every quiver of her lips, the taste of her dinner and the mint of her toothpaste. Early Fourth of July fireworks. Will found himself squeezing her nape, so damn delicate. Deceptively delicate.

  He lifted his head once so they could both breathe, then returned for more. Her response was eager as if she could keep kissing him forever. Will told himself he was good with that, except the bitter, too-proud kid he’d been started talking in his ear.

  You roused her from a nightmare. Of course she’s happy to kiss you! Great way to blot out the awful crap in her head.

  The punch was a one-two.

  Why wouldn’t she kiss you? You’ve all but promised to die for her, if it comes to that.

  The next time he needed oxygen, he kissed his way across her cheek, nuzzled her temple and laid her down. The inner voice was irritating but right. Anything like this had to wait.

  “Sleep,” he murmured. He didn’t add, Tomorrow is going to be a big day, because that was a euphemism to end all euphemisms.

  Tomorrow, he thought grimly, they’d likely come upon the surprise party. Given that they were massively out-gunned, their options weren’t great.

  When he stretched out beside Maddy, he noticed how stiffly she held herself. If she’d been able to turn her back to him, Will felt sure she’d have done it. He must have seemed abrupt, even to be rejecting her. Which, in a way, was what he’d done. For the best of motives. Somehow he doubted Maddy would see it that way.

  Sleep wouldn’t come easily. His empty belly alone wouldn’t have kept him awake; he’d gone hungry plenty of times, both as a boy and as a soldier in the field. It was worries about tomorrow that held sleep at bay, along with second thoughts.

  * * *

  FERN FRONDS BRUSHING her face, Maddy sat hunched behind the roots of another fallen tree. This one might have fallen over the winter, or perhaps the year before. It hadn’t taken long for the voracious vegetation to advance on the scar in the land. Nettles and devil’s club seemed especially energetic.

  Will had decided that today he’d scout ahead for each stretch then return for her. He’d done that twice already. She couldn’t tell him how much she hated being left behind, or how afraid she was for him in these long interludes when she couldn’t know what was happening to him. She clung to the memory of his kiss.

  Infuriatingly, her arm and shoulder hurt worse when she sat still than they did when she moved. That probably wasn’t really the case, but there wasn’t much else to do but be aware of her body’s complaints and listen for danger.

  To top it all off, she itched fiercely beneath the splint on her arm, where of course she couldn’t reach. Actually, she was afraid to move at all, partly because of the nettles. The back of her hand still stung from yesterday’s carelessness. Mostly, though, she kept imagining watching eyes in the jungle around her. Every sound made her twitch. She listened for gunfire, knowing that even if Will
managed to escape, it would take ages for him to make it back to her.

  And if he didn’t? What then?

  He’d stuffed her pockets this morning with food: dried fruit, a packet of peanuts and two candy bars. He didn’t say anything, but then he hadn’t had to. He wanted to be sure she had something to eat if she found herself on her own.

  A heavy rustling among the alders and willows downstream brought her head up. Whoever was approaching didn’t care about alerting anyone nearby to his presence. Were she and Will that noisy when they were on the move?

  Please let this be Will.

  Somehow, though, she knew it wasn’t.

  Maddy sat frozen, waiting, her eyes straining for the first sight. Her heart thudded. They hadn’t yet found so much as a hint of a game trail this morning, but whoever—whatever—this was seemed to be coming straight toward her.

  A crash among the whippy trunks and branches shook the leaves. Maddy tensed. She could run—

  The something coming was huge...and black. A black bear. Not a grizzly; they were brown, weren’t they?

  Should she stay still and quiet and hope it never noticed her, or make lots of noise to try to scare it away?

  More of the surrounding foliage shook. The bear wasn’t twenty feet away when it stopped and the huge head swung toward Maddy. The nostrils quivered and they stared at each other.

  Unable to sit still a second longer, Maddy jumped up, waved her arm and yelled, “Shoo!”

  The bear lumbered straight toward her, using its bulk to smash through the shrubs and small trees. Her head turned wildly. She couldn’t run.

  So she pressed among the tree roots, smelling the rank odor of bear even as it got so close she could see beady eyes and patchy fur.

  At the last second it veered suddenly, continuing to crash away until Maddy heard a great splash. Bears probably didn’t bother looking for fallen logs to cross a creek.

  Her breath escaped in a big whoosh and her legs failed her. Butt in the dirt, she waited for her heartbeat to slow. Wilderness Girl she apparently wasn’t.