The shakes hit her thirty seconds later. Abby was still standing where Jake had left her, staring at the door he’d closed behind him, trying to decide what to do next, when her knees turned to water. Her stomach clenched and for a terrible moment she thought she would be sick. By the time she made it to the fireplace, the tremors had grown violent, starting with her hands and traveling through her body like a shockwave.
After spending the last year in prison, she’d come to believe that she could endure almost anything, that nothing could shock her or shake her up inside.
Gunfights definitely shook her up.
She stood in the cold darkness for a long time, gripping the mantel above the hearth, listening to her labored breathing and the dull thud of her heart. She didn’t know how long she stood there. Her mind kept replaying what had happened. The shock of pain when the assailant had struck her. The flash of the gun. She could feel the cold air pooling at her feet. She could hear the wind outside, feel the cabin trembling beneath its force. The stench of spent powder and violence hung heavy in the air.
She couldn’t believe someone had just tried to kill her.
After a while, the shock eased its grip. Mechanically, she picked up two logs and added them to the fire. She wondered where Jake was, if he was okay. She told herself she wasn’t worried about him. Jake could take care of himself. She wondered what kind of man risked his life to protect an escaped convict.
Needing something to do, she picked up the kettle, took it outside and filled it with snow. Back inside, she melted it over the fire. When the water was warm, she set about washing her face and hands. Her temple hurt where she’d been hit, but the water felt good against her skin. It was too cold for her to get really wet, but she didn’t care. She felt…dirty, as if the man who’d come in out of the darkness had somehow tainted her with his violent touch.
Only then did she realize she was crying.
The realization left her incredulous. Abby Nichols didn’t cry easily. But with the predawn light filtering through the grimy windows, she sloshed water over her face and neck and cried openly. She thought about Fate and all the things she’d wanted for her life. She thought about Jake and all the things she could never have. She thought about Grams, waiting in her little house in New Mexico and wished to God she could talk to her.
The water calmed her emotions, washed away the remnants of violence the man had left on her skin like a greasy smear. But it didn’t help with the shaking. She couldn’t tell if it was the remnants of terror or the cold that made her tremble, but she couldn’t stop. For the first time since she’d left the prison, she was afraid. Someone was trying to kill her, and from the looks of things, they were pretty damn serious about it.
Abby was dressed and putting another log on the fire when the door swung open. Jake stomped in on a blast of cold air and flurry of snow. He hadn’t bothered with his duster or gloves. He was shivering. She thought she’d never seen a man look as dangerous as Jake did standing there staring at her, shaking with cold and anger and something else she couldn’t readily identify.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Fine.”
“Did you find him?”
“No.” He started toward her. “He was on a snowmobile.”
She thought about that a moment. “Do you think it was a professional hit?”
He didn’t answer right away. Abby could clearly see he was irate. His eyes were hard and dark as smoke. His jaw clamped tight. It was obvious Jake Madigan didn’t like to lose.
She was still absorbing that information when he stepped close to her, his eyes narrowing. “He hurt you.”
“I—I’m okay,” she stammered, taken aback by the sudden intensity in his eyes.
“He hit you.”
She’d nearly forgotten, though her temple throbbed dully. Oddly embarrassed, she turned her head away. But Jake lifted his hand, cupped her chin with his fingers, and forced her head around so he could see the bump on her temple.
“That son of a bitch.”
“It’s okay—”
“No, it’s not okay. Goddamm it, he hit you.”
She choked out a nervous laugh. “I’m just glad he didn’t shoot me.”
Jake didn’t laugh. Taking her shoulders, he guided her over to the hearth, then turned her toward him to get a better look. His face darkened with fury as he inspected the bruise on her temple.
Abby had seen him angry, but never like this. She’d never seen that dangerous light in his eyes. “Jake, I’m okay,” she said.
“You’re bruised.”
“Hey, what’s a little bruise in the scope of things, you know? It’s all right.”
“It’s not all right. Damn it, Abby, you didn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve any of this.”
“Jake—”
“He nearly killed you.” He blew out a breath. “Hell.”
She wanted to tell him to calm down; told herself she could handle this man’s intensity. She’d dealt with worse in the past year and a half. But Jake was quickly overwhelming her with this protective-male stuff. She wondered where it was coming from. Wondered if it had anything to do with that streak of gentleman she knew ran so deep in him.
“I’m sorry he hurt you,” he said. “I wish I could have stopped it.”
His gaze pierced her. Abby couldn’t move. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo against her ribs. She could feel the anger coming through him into her. He was shaking, his face taut.
“I’m going to get some snow, make a compress,” he said. “Stay here.”
“Okay,” she said, a little stunned.
He walked out the door without his coat and returned with a pail full of snow. She watched as he took a handful and wrapped a fresh rag around it. Back at the hearth, he stood in front of her and pressed it to her temple.
Abby winced.
“Sorry,” he said. “Sore?”
“A little.”
“This will help stop the swelling, might even help with the bruising.”
“Hey, with your eye and my temple, we could be twins.”
He wasn’t amused. “Ha, ha.”
“People are going to think we got into a fight.”
“We did.”
Despite the lingering fear and the cold realization of how differently things could have turned out, Abby smiled.
Across from her, Jake concentrated on keeping the ice against her temple. His left hand rested gently on her bicep. Slowly, she felt him relax one degree at a time. The hard lines of his face softened. She hadn’t realized it before, but Jake Madigan made a frightening picture when he was angry.
“You’re making a habit of saving my life, you know,” she said.
“That’s my job.”
“Well, you’re really good at it.”
He looked her straight in the eyes. “I’m good at a lot of things.”
Abby swallowed hard, felt her heart kick against her breastbone. She wanted to say something back to him, but her brain seemed to have short-circuited. She wanted to think it was because of the stress of the situation. The storm. The close quarters. The madman with a gun. But she knew her reaction had more to do with the way he was looking at her.
Images from their tussle in the snow that morning came to her unbidden. Her lying in the snow. Him on top of her, solid and warm and pressed against her as intimately as a lover. She tried not to think about the kiss—she knew better than to toss gasoline into a flame—but the memory taunted her with its forbidden sweetness. She remembered the look of utter astonishment in his eyes when she’d pressed her mouth to his. The way his body had jolted. The instant of his surrender. Then his firm mouth had taken hers captive. He’d shifted closer. The growl of frustration in his throat when he’d realized he couldn’t get any closer. All the things he’d done to her mouth with his tongue….
Yes, she thought dazedly, Jake Madigan definitely knew how to kiss a woman. She wanted him to kiss her now. Wanted his firm mouth against hers. Wanted to feel him surrender to her.
Desire flickered like a hot flame in her belly. She told herself none of this was going to matter in the long run. That she could give in to the needs churning inside her and kiss this man and not suffer any consequences. It wasn’t as if a kiss was going to change anything. It certainly wasn’t going to mean anything. It couldn’t.
She stared up at him. His flint-gray eyes had softened to the color of a twilight sky. That magical moment between day and night when the stars were born and the last vestiges of the sunset died on the horizon.
“What are you thinking?” she whispered.
“Things I shouldn’t be.”
“Why not?”
“Because I know better.” His jaw flexed. “So do you.”
Abby knew they were playing with fire, and getting much too close to the flames. She knew she would probably be the one to get burned. But for a little while she didn’t want to care. She didn’t want to think about repercussions or right or wrong. All she wanted was for this man to kiss her.
She knew he was going to an instant before he moved. He leaned toward her, his eyes darkening like the summer sky before a storm. Abby thought she was prepared. But the instant he touched his mouth to hers, all bets were off.
Jake didn’t just kiss her. He devoured her mouth with a hunger that sucked the oxygen from her lungs and left her head spinning like a top. The floor tilted crazily beneath her. If she hadn’t reached up and put her arms around his shoulders, she would have slunk to the floor into a boneless heap.
His mouth fused to hers, and Abby’s senses exploded. She tasted heat and the heady taste of aroused male. A man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it, consequences be damned. She heard labored breathing, but she wasn’t sure if it was his or hers. Bright light burst behind her eyes. All the while, his mouth danced with hers, an unyielding partner who liked to lead and didn’t mind stepping on her toes.
At some point, the cold compress left her temple. She felt restless hands on her shoulders, skimming down her back, then lower. His shoulders were like steel beneath her fingers, corded and fraught with tension. It had been a long time since a man had touched her, and Abby’s senses heightened to a fever pitch. Every touch, every shudder, seemed multiplied exponentially, racing through her body and exploding in her brain like a powerful drug.
His hands fell to her hips. Large hands that were calloused from manual labor, yet gentle enough to heal wounds and ease pain. He held her against him with those hands and she could feel the hard length of him at her feminine core, straining closer, burning her with the intensity of his need.
She opened her mouth, for a breath or maybe to gasp, she wasn’t sure, but he took the opportunity and deepened the kiss. His teeth clicked against hers, his tongue going deep, penetrating her. Abby accepted him, rode with the dizziness stealing her equilibrium. In the back of her mind she wondered how she would survive this. If he could knock her senseless with just a kiss, how was she going to react if they took this any further?
* * *
Jake couldn’t remember the last time he’d lost his head. Maybe the day he’d been fifteen and watched little Jimmy Baine get sucked under the ice.
He’d known he was going to do something stupid and screw this up sooner or later. The writing had been on the wall since the moment he’d sat in on the briefing at RMSAR headquarters and seen this woman’s mug shot and those incredible violet eyes.
Kissing her like this definitely qualified as stupid.
And he’d definitely lost his cool.
But she made his blood pound like no other woman he’d ever met. One taste of her mouth and he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t even see straight. The woman made him crazy with needs he swore he’d never give in to, made him glad to relinquish the control he’d always prided himself on having. Made him wonder if maybe she was worth making a mistake for.
Need and frustration coiled and snapped inside him as he kissed her. Arousal flared hot and deep in his groin. And her mouth… Her mouth was making him nuts. She tasted sweet, like ripe, succulent fruit, and Jake wanted to devour her.
Kissing this way wasn’t his usual modus operandi with women. Jake had always prided himself on being a gentleman. On being slow and thorough and sure. He respected women and treated them with dignity. He was a gentle lover and never caved in to urgency. He’d never been prone to wildly hot kisses and groping like some fuzz-face teenager struggling with his first bout of hormones.
But he couldn’t stop kissing her, didn’t want to stop touching her. He didn’t care about consequences or regret, or pause to think about where this might lead.
Her body was soft and fragile and warm against his. Her scent was inside his head. The feel of her body against his was in his blood, setting his veins on fire. Kissing her, he ran his fingers through her hair, tangled them in the thick mass of curls. He wanted to get lost in her hair. He wanted to get inside her. Wanted to feel her wet heat wrap around him.
She was pressed snugly against him. He could feel her breasts against his chest, her heart raging against his, and felt another layer of his control flutter away. Running his hands over her hips and sides, he slipped his hands between them and cupped her breasts. She gasped and arched. He molded her flesh with his fingers. Her breasts were small and firm and filled his palms like soft fruits. Even through the thick fabric of the jumpsuit, he could feel the hardened peaks of her nipples.
His control teetered. Growling low in his throat, he deepened the kiss. The need to touch her jumped through him like an electrical surge. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck.
Gently, he unzipped her jumpsuit, slipped his hands inside. Making a small sound in her throat, she arched against him. His knees went weak at the feel of her bare flesh against his palms. He caressed her nipples with his fingertips. She shivered in his arms. He slid his hands down her belly, over taut, quivering flesh. His fingers brushed the soft cotton of her panties. His heart went wild in his chest, the need pounding through him with every beat. She whispered something in his ear, but he couldn’t hear her, didn’t understand the words. Every cell in his brain focused on the pleasure coursing through him. The pressure of her mouth against his. The softness of her flesh. Her scent inside his head, driving him crazy with the need for more of her.
His fingers found the crisp curls at her vee. She stiffened against him, but he didn’t stop. He separated her, then dipped two fingers into wet heat.
Abby jolted in his arms, crying out softly.
“Easy,” he whispered, and began to stroke her. Once. Twice.
When she opened to him, Jake closed his eyes and he was lost. To reason. To sanity. He was as lost as any hiker had ever been in the vast wilderness of the Rocky Mountains. The ache in his groin was a physical pain. A sweet ache that echoed through his body like the flu, intoxicating him like a drug, making him believe in the impossible and want crazy things.
Sexual contact with an escaped convict was definitely crazy.
Jake had made plenty of mistakes over the years. He figured he’d learned something from most of them, and the lesson had been worth the cost. This was different. If he let this go any further, it was going to end up costing both of them far more than they were willing to pay.
What the hell was he thinking throwing his career away for a convict? A woman who had no compunction about manipulating him to get what she wanted? A woman who threatened his control so that he was willing to risk everything he’d ever worked for for just one taste of her mouth?
The questions dragged him back to his senses. Back to his own personal code of honor. To his career as a law enforcement officer. To his dignity. Back to a situation that was every bit as dangerous to him as the man with a rifle outside.
It took every bit of discipline he could muster to pull away from her, but he did. His body wasn’t happy about it, and frustration snapped through him like a bull whip. He knew better than to risk everything for something as simple as lust.
The problem was, there hadn’t been anything even remotely simple about what had just happened between them.
“This is wrong,” he said in a hoarse voice.
She stepped back, her cheeks flushed, her lips kiss-bruised and wet. Grasping the edges of her jumpsuit with white-knuckled hands, she reached for the zipper and jerked it up to her chin. Her violet eyes were wide and wary and didn’t quite meet his. She was breathing hard, her breasts rising and falling with each breath. He could still feel the warmth of her flesh against his palms. Her wetness on his fingers. The hard nubs of her nipples where they’d brushed against his chest. Frustration burned him. The realization of how close he’d come to making an irrevocable mistake shamed him.
“I’m…sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have let that happen.”
Turning away from him, she hugged herself as if from a chill. Her shoulders were rigid. Her head down. He wanted to go to her, but he didn’t. He could only imagine how she must feel. Used. Humiliated. And he refused to acknowledge the sharp edge of need stabbing him in the gut.
Jake didn’t usually feel the need to talk. Silence usually suited him just fine. Even so, he found himself scrambling for something to say. “That was…my fault.” The words sounded lame even to him.
“Mine, too,” she said. “I mean, I don’t take things like what just happened between us lightly.”
“Yeah, well, here’s a news flash for you, Blondie. Neither do I.”
She turned to face him, her eyes seeking his. Jake stared at her mouth, aroused and wanting her no matter how wrong it was. She must have noticed because she stepped back, bit her lip. “We got…carried away. We’ve been…cooped up together. You know, close quarters. It could happen to anyone.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jake lowered his head and let out a humorless laugh. “I’m a cop, Abby. Do you have any idea what I’ve done by…” Hell, he wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. What had he just done? “Sexual misconduct with a prisoner? That’s…inexcusable.”
“Jake—”
“The corrections guys who take advantage of the women inmates. Hell, Abby, they’re worse than scum. Damn it, it happens a lot, and I’ve just done the same thing.”
Her eyes heated. “Is that what I am to you, Jake? An inmate?”
“I shouldn’t have touched you.”
“It’s not like you were doing it against my will.”
“I’m a cop, Abby! Do you have any idea how serious an offense it is for me to…touch you like that?”
“Afraid for your job?” she asked nastily.
It was more than his job. He didn’t want to say it. But he figured they both knew it. “That was worse than irresponsible, Abby. You’ve got the right to file a complaint with the sheriff’s department against me when we get back,” he said tightly.
“I’m not going to file a complaint.”
“I shouldn’t have let this get out of hand.”
“This isn’t out of hand. We’ll…take responsibility for our actions like two adults and move on, okay?”
“I can’t let this matter, Abby. Damn it, I can’t let you matter.”
The flash of pain in her eyes came and went so quickly, he wasn’t sure if he’d seen it at all. But he could tell by the way her eyes skated away that the statement had hurt her. She didn’t cry; she wouldn’t now, he knew. Abby Nichols was too tough to cry. But the pain shimmering in her eyes was unmistakable, and Jake felt like a bastard for putting it there.
He wanted to go to her, wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her against him. He wanted to take away her hurt. Tell her that everything was going to be all right. But he knew it wasn’t. Not for Abby Nichols. And, damn it, not for him.
* * *
Sleep refused to come to Jake again. He spent the predawn hours walking the cabin, going from window to window, watching for the sniper, thinking about the truckload of mistakes he’d made in the last twenty-four hours. He tried not to think of the woman sleeping on the other side of the room. The way she’d felt when he’d held her. The way she bit her lip when she was nervous. The sound of her laughter. The haunted expression on her face when she spoke of the time she’d spent in prison. The way those eyes knocked him for a loop every time he looked at her.
He’d crossed a line with her. Not only with his professional code of ethics, but a personal line, too, that disturbed him even more. After Elaine, Jake had sworn he’d never be taken in again. Elaine had wormed her way into his life. Used her female charms to get under his skin, her little boy to gain access to his heart. He’d fallen for her, and she’d made a fool of him. Worse, Jake had allowed it. He’d been in so deep with her—with her child—he’d refused to read the writing on the wall. He’d compromised himself. And because he hadn’t had the strength to do the right thing, he’d sold himself out and she’d stepped in and cut out his heart.
How could he even consider making the same mistake with Abby? She’d escaped from prison, tried to manipulate him with her body. She’d told him a crazy story about transplant organs and a respected doctor. Why had he let her get to him? Why on earth did he believe her? Why couldn’t he do the right thing and turn the other cheek and let the legal system work?
Because you got it bad for her, Madigan. Just like you did for Elaine, and look where that got you.
Bracing his hand against the mantel above the hearth, Jake leaned forward and brooded into the fire. Regardless of how he felt about Abby, he was going to have to take her back. He should have felt better having made that decision. It was the right thing to do. The only sane thing to do.
For the life of him he couldn’t figure out why that didn’t make him feel any better.
Dawn broke with a sky full of brilliant sunshine and temperatures that hovered just below freezing. The wind had finally died and Jake fervently hoped Tony Colorosa and the rest of the RMSAR team would be out in full force.
He woke Abby when the coffee was brewed. He handed her a cup, unable to keep himself from noticing how beautiful she’d looked curled in her sleeping bag. The urge to touch her tested his resolve, but Jake steeled himself against it and put the thought out of his mind. With the same cool professionalism he used with all the prisoners he’d transported, he informed her she had fifteen minutes to wash up, eat a few nuts and raisins and meet him outside.
By eight o’clock, they were mounted up and heading east, toward the nearest ranger station. Jake was still uneasy about the sniper, so he’d decided on a secondary trail that was protected by aspen and pines and rocky ridges no man could scale on a snowmobile. It would take a little longer to get where they were going, but he figured it was worth it to avoid getting shot.
“How long until we arrive?” she asked.
Jake looked over at her, felt that familiar tightening in his chest at the sight of her. She’d found something to pull her hair back with. She looked lovely with her hair away from her face. Her cheekbones were high and tinged pink from the cold. Her brows were thin and very dark over her violet eyes. The woman made an unforgettable picture. A picture that would be with him for a long, long time.
“We should make it by dark,” he said. “If the snow doesn’t slow us down too much.”
“This trail doesn’t look like it gets used often.”
“The other trail is too open. I didn’t want to take any chances with the sniper.”
Abby glanced over her shoulder uneasily. Her face was pale. For a second her eyes had the wild look of a scared animal, and he knew she was remembering the close call from the night before. The bump on her temple was just beginning to turn purple. Jake hated seeing it, hated knowing someone had hurt her, wanted to hurt her some more. As much as he hated to admit it, he was beginning to feel protective of her.
How you going to feel handing her over to D.O.C., hot shot?
The question made him wince. Prison was no place for a woman like Abby. It would destroy her. The notion of seeing her spirit crushed by such a harsh life tortured him. Most of the criminals he put in jail deserved to be there. Most were hardened. Violent. Remorseless. Abby was none of those things. She possessed a very real softness that made her all too human. A vulnerability she disguised with layers of toughness. But those layers were as gossamer as a butterfly’s wings. He couldn’t fathom her hurting anyone. Not in a million years. Yet here he was, taking her back….
A sliver of guilt pierced Jake. He wasn’t sure exactly when it had happened, but at some point he’d come to the conclusion that Abby was not a killer. Even if she had injected that patient with the wrong drug, Jake knew in his gut it had been an accident. Things weren’t adding up. Not the woman in his charge. Or the sniper determined to snuff out her life. And as much as he didn’t want to believe it, his instincts were telling him it all had to do with one Dr. Jonathan Reed at Mercy General Hospital in Denver.
“I’ve been thinking about your case,” he said after a moment.
She shot him a wary look.
“You’ve told me enough for me to know the D.A.’s case was shot full of holes.” When she still didn’t respond, he slowed his horse and let her pull up beside him. “I thought I’d look into your case after we get back. Check out a couple of things.”
“Don’t say something because you feel guilty about what happened back at the cabin.”
Jake swung around to face her, quick anger snapping through him. “That doesn’t have a damn thing to do with—”
“Don’t say something you’ll regret later. Just because we…we…”
“This has nothing to do with what happened between us at the cabin last night.”
She slanted him a nasty look. “You’re feeling guilty.”
“You’re damn right I’m feeling guilty.”
“Because you acted inappropriately with a prisoner? Or maybe it’s because you don’t want anyone to know about it and this is your way of placating me.”
Jake said nothing, his temper simmering.
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
“Look, Abby, you’ve told me some things about your case that need to be checked out.” When she wouldn’t stop her mount, he snagged the mule’s lead rope and stopped both animals. “Damn it, listen to me.”
“For God’s sake, Jake, don’t get my hopes up.” For the first time, emotion rang in her voice. It hit Jake like a tuning fork held against a broken bone. “Please,” she said. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. I’m really not up to the disappointment.”
“Abby—”
“If you want to do the right thing, let me go.”
“I can’t do that.”
“I’m dead if you take me back.”
Jake recoiled inwardly. “I’ll make sure you’re put under watch.”
“Oh, that’s big of you. Always looking out for my best interest. A twenty-four-hour guard will be terrific—”
“The police aren’t going to stop looking for you. If I don’t take you back, someone else will.”
“I won’t let them catch me.”
“You’re exhausted and have absolutely no way to travel.”
“You could give me a head start.”
Jake laughed, but it was a bitter sound in the silence of the forest trail. “And in case you’ve forgotten, there’s a sniper on the loose who evidently doesn’t want you around—”
“I’d rather take my chances with the sniper.”
“Use your head, Abby. Handle this through the legal system. I’ll help you—”
“Don’t say it, damn you.”
“This isn’t personal, Abby.”
“It is for me. Saving my life is very, very personal.”
Jake ran his hand over his face and struggled for patience. He wasn’t sure how to deal with all the bitterness and pain. “Abby….”
She wouldn’t even look at him, just stared straight ahead, as if he wasn’t even there. What did she expect him to say? Jeez, who knew what was going on in a woman’s head at any given time? He sure as hell didn’t. As far as he was concerned women really were from another planet.
“Do you understand?” he asked after a moment.
“Oh, yeah. I gotcha, Cop. Loud and clear.”
They traveled through deep snow for another hour, tension filling the chasm between them. Jake had realized in the last few days that Abby liked to chat. He found himself missing that today. He missed her smart-aleck remarks, her dry wit, her sense of humor. He hated seeing her so discouraged, so…hopeless.
Struggling to keep his mind off of her, he focused his attention on the animal beneath him, on making good time. He kept his eyes on the surrounding ridges for signs of the sniper. He was uneasy traveling in the open, and there were several places where the trail opened up and they could easily be picked off by a sniper’s bullet. The thought made the hairs on his nape prickle.
Two hours later, he pulled Brandywine up next to the mule and stopped. “You hungry?”
“No.”
“You’re quiet.”
“I don’t think there’s much else to say.” For the first time in a while, she looked at him. Jake almost wished she hadn’t. The anguish in her eyes made his chest ache.
“But I would like to know one thing,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“I need to know if you believe me.”
“Abby….” He sighed, not sure what to say next.
She looked away abruptly, blinking rapidly. “Okay.”
“That’s not a fair question,” he said lamely.
She raised her hand, silencing him. “That’s enough. That tells me all I need to know. Forget it, okay?”
“Damn it, it’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is, Jake. It’s infinitely simple. Either you do or you don’t. Evidently, you don’t.” She stared at him, her expression level and far too calm. “I can accept that. I just…after everything that’s happened, I…needed to know.”
“Abby, I—”
“Don’t say anything else. Please.”
“Listen, whether I believe you is not the problem.”
“Then what is the problem?” she cried.
“That I do believe you, and I don’t have the slightest idea what I’m going to do about it!”
She stared at him, her expression stricken. Tears shimmered in her eyes like liquid amethysts. Then she simply broke. Lowering her face into her hands, she began to cry. It was the first display of weakness he’d seen in her and it tore at him like claws.
“If you take me back, it’s over,” she choked. “I can’t let you do that to me.”
“I’ll make sure you’re protected from whomever is trying to get to you.”
“Forgive me if my faith in the criminal justice system is a little shaky right now.”
“I’ve got some contacts in different police agencies. These guys are sharp. They know the ropes. Hell, I’ll look into your case myself. I’ll do everything in my power to—”
“Let me go, Jake.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Damn it—”
“You can’t survive up here in the high country by yourself! Look at the problems we’ve had since we’ve been up here. The storm. You falling through the ice. The sniper. I’ve been doing this since I was old enough to walk. You don’t have that kind of experience. You don’t have any gear. You don’t have supplies. You don’t even have a compass. Another storm comes along and you won’t make it out of these mountains alive.”
“I’d rather die than go back!”
Anger and guilt churned like hot tar in his gut. He pointed his finger at her, felt his lips pull back in a snarl. “Don’t let me hear you say that again.”
“Why not? I’m dead either way. At least if you leave me up here, I’ll have a fighting chance.”
The thought of her dying such a needless, senseless death sickened him. “That’s a chance I’m not willing to take.”
“You take me back and it’s out of your hands.”
A cold fist of dread twisted savagely in his gut and for a moment he couldn’t take a breath. “I know the ropes, Abby. I’ll talk to D.O.C. I’ll—”
“Do you actually think the cops are going to believe you after…this? They’re going to take one look at…us and the accusations will start flying.”
He didn’t want to believe it, but he knew it was true. A male officer and a female inmate trapped in a cabin for two days was fair game for anyone’s imagination. “They’re not going to know anything happened between us.” God, he hated the way that sounded. Officers of the law who took advantage of female inmates were lower than scum in Jake’s mind. Saying out loud what he’d allowed to happen between them made it sound as though he was no better, as though he’d taken advantage of a situation. That was twisted as hell, and it made him feel lousy.
“If you feel the need to tell someone about what happened, then you should,” he said evenly. “I’m not going to ask you to protect me. I was clearly out of line.”
“Stop being so damn honorable, will you?”
He didn’t see anything honorable about anything he’d done since setting foot on this mountain with her, but he didn’t say as much.
“Jake,” she said quietly, “the moment you speak out on my behalf, you know what the reaction is going to be.” She looked down where her hands twisted on the horn. “Tell me someone isn’t going to jump to conclusions about…how we spent two days together in that cabin.”
She had a point. A filthy point that stuck in his craw like a needle. Jake hated it more than anything. Taking off his hat, he raked his fingers through his hair and cursed.
What a mess.
He was about to suggest they get going and discuss this on the way, when sudden pain streaked through his left side, just below his rib cage, as if someone had slammed a red-hot branding iron into him. Jake grunted, the impact nearly knocking him from the saddle. An instant later, a rifle retort echoed in the distance.
Vaguely, he heard Abby’s voice call out to him. He looked down, saw a tear in his duster. Opening it, he saw blood coming through his shirt on his left side, just above his belt. Oh hell, he thought dully. He’d been shot.
Glancing up at the ridge to the north, he thought he saw movement, and slid the rifle from its sheath. Taking aim, gritting his teeth against the pain, he squeezed off two shots.
Behind him, he heard Abby urging the mule closer. “Jake!” she cried. “My God, you’re bleeding!”
“I’m okay.” He motioned toward the line of trees. “Take cover!”
But she kept coming, and there was only one way to keep her out of the line of fire. Leaning forward, he grabbed the mule’s lead rope and nudged his mare into a gallop.
“Hang on!” Clutching his side, Jake took them down a treacherously steep ravine toward a copse of aspen, praying the bullet wound in his side wasn’t as bad as it felt.