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“Dammit, Allie,” Carter said, grabbing her ankle and peering at her foot with his flashlight. She’d mentioned blisters but this was so much more. Her feet were raw and bloody with skin scraped through to the flesh. It was amazing she could walk, let alone run.
She tried to pull her foot away. “That happened after my socks were soaked. But they look worse than they feel. Besides, I’m used to it now.”
He kept a firm hold of her ankle, careful not to touch the abrasions but stunned at the shape of her feet. And that she’d never once complained. “They look sore,” he said, downplaying his shock. How could they possibly stay in front of Dwight now?
“Don’t you have a better pair of socks?” he asked. “Something thicker? Surely you brought another pair. Other than the cotton ones you took from Trina’s pack.”
He felt her withdraw and this time she did pull her foot away. He hadn’t meant to sound accusing but her toes and heels were a mess. No doubt, the swamp drenching hadn’t helped but she must have been in agony yesterday. And today would be every bit as tough.
“You must have brought several pairs of wool socks,” he repeated, “You were so smart about everything else, and I saw all the supplies your friends left you in the dorm... Aw, shit. Did Janet steal your socks too?”
She didn’t answer but the betrayal on her face was answer enough. She must have been gutted when she woke and discovered her partner had not only deserted her, but had fled with everything of value.
“I’m going to have words with that woman when I get back,” he said, feeling a pulse tick in his jaw.
“I was upset for a while,” Allie admitted. “But she didn’t think I’d continue the race, especially since I’d hurt my shoulder. She probably wouldn’t have taken my stuff if she thought I’d need it.”
Carter gave a non-committal shrug, but he wasn’t prepared to be as forgiving. Janet had also taken the radio. It should have been left with the partner who wasn’t continuing.
“Tell me about the moose again.” He shifted, pulling a roll of equine bandage from his saddlebags. He’d bind up her feet and minimize the rubbing but it was going to hurt, and talking would distract her. Besides, he was curious about how they’d escaped a moose capable of running thirty-five miles an hour, as well as Allie’s experience wading through the wetland.
Ten minutes later, he had both her feet rolled in a bandage and she either had an incredibly high pain threshold or else enjoyed recounting how she and Janet had been able to avoid capture.
“So you were right in front of us in the swamp?” he asked, gingerly tugging on her sock. “I kind of suspected that.”
“You did not.” Her bubbling laugh made him smile. “The horses knew I was there,” she said, “but you and Monty were oblivious.” Luckily she remained distracted as he tugged on the second sock. They were stiff and dirty and bloodstained, and it was then he realized the sun had inched over the horizon.
“You’re right. I was oblivious.” He laced on her boots, pressed a quick kiss on her mouth then rose. “We gotta go,” he said, pulling her to her feet.
“What about your blisters?” she asked. “Are there enough bandages left for you?”
“Mine aren’t so bad.” It was embarrassing to even classify his chafing as blisters after seeing the shape of her feet. “I don’t need anything.”
“That’s because you’re a big tough cowboy.” She flashed him another gorgeous smile—the one he’d always distrusted. It was amazing she still considered him tough, because he was feeling increasingly humbled by her positive attitude as well as her courage.
She had to be terrified she wouldn’t be fast enough to stay in front of Dwight. He certainly was.
He wrapped her in his arms, not saying a word, just holding her. Birds trilled as the sun inched higher, now almost fully exposed on the horizon. It was time to get moving, but it was also important to give her some reassurance. She had to know he wasn’t going to leave, that she wouldn’t be alone.
There was so much more he wanted to say but somehow the words tangled in his throat.
“You’ve got this holding thing down pat,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” he said gruffly. “So don’t worry. I promise to keep you safe.”
“I know you will.” She lifted her head, her eyes shining. “And I promise to keep you safe too.”
He lowered his arms, relieved she was feisty enough to still joke.
“This is the plan,” he said. “We’re going to follow Monty’s trail along the river and try to catch up. Then you’ll have a horse to ride the rest of the way. He has a radio, as well as bacon and coffee.”
“Great. Let’s go find that coffee.” She smiled and stepped back, once again wearing her game face. But now he knew that beneath it lay a surprisingly steely core.
She picked up the daypack she’d taken from Dwight’s campsite and began walking, slowly at first, then building speed. He remained behind, analyzing her gait: stiff and short but her stride was even, which meant neither foot was worse than the other. Her right shoulder tilted slightly but her head was up, her golden ponytail swinging jauntily. He’d have to make sure she stopped for breaks or she’d walk herself into the ground, powered by sheer grit.
Shaking his head in amazement, he scooped up his saddlebags—checked to make sure his knife was within easy reach—and followed.
*
Carter checked his watch. Eight a.m. and it was still pleasant walking, at least temperature-wise. He couldn’t imagine Allie was enjoying it much. She now trailed several feet behind him although she wasn’t stumbling. Neither of them spoke, conserving their energy for what could become a grueling hike.
“We’ll stop here for a bit,” he said, glancing around at the overturned rocks. “I want to check the tracks.”
“There’s some horse manure by the trees,” she said. “It doesn’t look very fresh though.”
He nodded. Sometimes he forgot she’d had a crash course in reading trail sign. Actually considering all the ranch seminars, she probably knew more than him. “What do you see?” he asked.
She glanced around, her eyes assessing.
“It looks like Monty camped here last night,” she said after a moment. “There are boot tracks and four sets of hoof prints where he watered the horses. And the ridge here is low and easy to climb. I imagine there’s some grass back there and that’s why he chose it. I don’t see Janet’s tracks though,” she added. “So it doesn’t look like he found her yet.” She gave a disappointed sigh.
He understood her competitiveness. Unfortunately the fact that Monty hadn’t caught Janet yet meant the man would be pushing his pace. So they’d also have to step it up. A determined person could walk down a horse. However, both Banjo and Hawk had been chosen for their ground-covering walk, and he hated to think of the pain Allie must feel every time her abused feet hit the ground.
“Do I have time to pull my boots off and stick them in the water?” she asked, glancing hopefully at the river.
“No,” he said. No way was he letting her take her boots off. She might never get them back on. “Monty might be just around the corner.”
“All right.” But she eyed the river so wistfully it made him regret he couldn’t give her that tiny bit of comfort.
“You have time to splash water on your face,” he said. “But be quick. Then we need to speed up.”
She moved to the edge of the river, crouched and peered over her shoulder at him. “You think Dwight’s still following?”
“Yes.”
Her face blanched. “I heard him in the woods,” she said slowly. “He’s way faster than me. Maybe I could find a spot behind the ridge. And you could hide my trail when you leave—”
“I’m not leaving you.”
Her gaze held his, her eyes sad but resolute. “It might be the best option for us though. If we separate, you can move quicker.”
“I’m not leaving you. We’re making good time.”
“Am I moving fast enough though?”
“Sure, you are.” He reached down and filled the water bottle, not meeting her eyes.
“Then why did you put all those energy bars in my little pack, and why do you keep filling the water bottle even when we’re walking beside the river?”
She was way too observant and he wanted to comfort her, wanted to sweep the fear from her face and let her stick her feet in the damn water. But time was ticking. And his senses were tingling as if Dwight were closing in. “It’s just in case,” he said.
“In case you leave me?”
“In case you have to leave,” he said gruffly, hating the thought. “If Dwight comes, you’ll have your little pack and I want you to run and hide.”
“I will not! I’ll stay and help you fight Dwight.”
“Keep your voice down,” he said. “And unless you can flap your arms and fly across the river, you have to do what I say.”
He probably shouldn’t have phrased it like that, but she was tough enough to take it. Besides, she wasn’t listening anyway. Her head was up, staring across the river. “I think maybe we can cross it,” she said slowly.
He followed her gaze, aghast. The river was a careening rush of water, jetting over black rocks and swirling whirlpools. “No way,” he said. “We’d have to be crazy.”
“That’s just it. Dwight won’t follow. He’s not that desperate.”
“I’m not either.”
“But we have your lariat.” She rose, her eyes shining with hope. “It won’t even be that difficult. All you have to do is rope a boulder on the other side. You can do that in your sleep.”
She had more faith in him than he did. He dragged his gaze off her hopeful face and studied the opposite bank. There were several good-sized boulders, the most suitable sat several feet in the water. But it was still a considerable distance.
“Doubt my rope would reach that far,” he said. “Even if does, if we lose our grip we’ll drown. And the force of that water is going to make it hard, especially with your shoulder.”
“We’ll cross together.” She hurried to his side and gave his arm an encouraging squeeze. “Then we can wave at Dwight from the other side.”
“I don’t know,” he said, still studying the distance. He’d have to wade out as far as he could, but if he could find an extra ten feet, his loop might reach the rock. And Allie was an excellent swimmer. He’d peeked in more than once when she was conducting water aerobics.
He was concerned about holding the rope in the middle of that powerful rush of water. But there were several rocks midstream so maybe they could take breathers behind them where the force of the water was divided. If he could keep his feet—and keep his hold on Allie and the rope—they might make it.
“You’re right.” He scooped up his lariat, boosted by her optimism. “We’ll take your little daypack. Leave the rest of our stuff here. You repack our supplies and hide the saddlebags while I snag a rock.”
He strode knee deep into the cold water, already shaking out his lariat. Then he paused and glanced over his shoulder.
“Good job, Allie,” he said.
