Chapter 9

 

 

Was it because they hadn't really spoken in almost an hour and her focus was so intense? The light from the full moon and stars gave the sleeping earth an otherworldly quality. Shadows and light. Dark hidden places and an almost eerie iridescence that seemed to lead their way. Mairie had never felt more alive.

Every sense in her body was attuned to the earth and the current lunar movements. The way the cool desert wind felt on her skin, the sound of the horses' hooves beating and grinding into the granules of dirt, sand, and rocks. Her taste buds were experiencing the distinct flavor of the night that is so different from day. If she stayed in this moment, without thinking of Harmon, or how she was going to find her way back home, if she released her past … she was safe. Not just safe… she was alive; here was where her life was unfolding.

Mairie figured right then and there it didn't pay to worry about Harmon, or what he might do. How could she predict the actions of someone so insane? Presently, all she could do was stay focused, alert to everything and anything. Part of her realized this was the Indian way, to respect everything… the earth, the sky, the animals, the wind. It assisted them in making decisions, choices.

In that graceful moment, Mairie Callahan knew she had taken this incredible journey into the past to find all this out.

To trust herself again.

To know that she was making the best decision she could. To keep riding into the unknown. To have the courage of her convictions. It had to be the right direction for her… no matter how it turned out… no matter how pissed Harmon might be.

Jack looked at her and smiled his encouragement. They were partners in this now, and she realized she had never felt this before with another. Not even her husband. It was what she had always been striving for, that equal trust. To have found it now, a hundred and twenty-two years into the past, made her want to throw back her head and laugh.

Yet she knew she had to be silent.

Even that was funny to her, that she couldn't laugh… when her whole heart wanted to yell out in freedom. On this night of primal awakenings within her body, it was like her mind really was letting go of her past. She and her ex-husband were never partners, only working toward that. How could she still be angry at her ex-husband… for recognizing it before she did? How funny was that? What an experience to realize that every single relationship she had ever had was preparing her to meet Jack Delaney.

She could only grin back at him with gratitude.

Even if Harmon went berserk on her, she wouldn't have missed this moment, riding in the wind, feeling the earth alive around her and sharing it all with Jack Fitzhue Delaney. No matter what…

They continued for another few miles, before Jack pointed to a grove of trees, and in the moonlight Mairie recognized it as the springs where they had stopped on their trek out of the desert. Nodding, she pulled back slightly on the left rein and kept her horse in synch with Jack's. She would have loved to have taken credit for staying in the saddle, but she knew her mount was merely following Jack's.

She and her horse obviously knew how to recognize skill.

It wasn't until she slowed down that the memory of what took place here flooded her mind. The kiss. And it wasn't even a real kiss, just a grazing of lips as he held her face, yet it shook the very center of her.

Great, she thought, as she saw Jack pull all the way back on his reins… how would an Indian handle this surge of hormones? As incredible and healing as this night seemed, she knew she hadn't learned anything helpful there. On this one she was flying by the seat of her pants.

He dismounted and immediately came to her assistance. Even though her ankle was almost healed now, Mairie knew he would have done it anyway. It was just him. She accepted his help and he caught her waist as she lowered herself to the ground. His touch was very respectful, yet also assuring. Her senses, already energized by the moonlit ride, almost went into overload by his touch.

"Thanks." She gathered all the nonchalance she could and turned around. The muscles in her thighs ached, as though announcing it was some time since they'd had such a workout. Better to concentrate on her aching muscles than on the man.

"I thought we could give the horses a breather and let them drink. They'll need it if we're going to run them hard to the base of the mountain." He was leading his toward the pool of water as he spoke.

"The horses aren't the only ones who need a break." Mairie chuckled, rubbing the back of her thighs.

He glanced at her and smiled. "Are you all right?"

Caressing her horse's nose she admitted sheepishly, "It's just been a while since I rode, Jack. And, quite honestly, I wasn't that good then." Mairie looked directly at him. "I'm sorry if I'm holding you back, but I'm going through with this… you're stuck with me."

He dropped the reins as his horse began drinking and stared at her in the moonlight. "Oh, no, Mairie," he said in a thick voice. "I'm not stuck with you. You're my gift, remember?"

Minutes from now she would only recall each of them silently walking toward the other, as if directed by some mutual communication, and falling into each other's arms. This time the kiss was not a mere grazing. This time the meeting of lips was a primitive mating, a graceful dance of movement and emotion. She tasted him, inhaled him, felt him. Hearing his deep moan, she opened her eyes… and saw him staring into her own with a look of wonderment.

Time, as she had always known it, ceased to exist as she was held in a state of appreciation she had never before felt. This was love. Dear God… this was love. This is what it really feels like, her mind was singing to her. She felt like she had finally come home.

And she must leave this bliss to return to her home in 1999?

How exquisitely ironic.

Don't think, her mind whispered. Don't think of anything but this moment. Bryan's words came back to her. This is it. Right here. Right now. This is being alive. Live it…

"Oh, Jack," she breathed, and gave herself fully over to the embrace.

She surrendered.

"Mairie…" His hot breath mixed with her name against her neck as he began nibbling. She felt weak, as though floating, and Jack held her tightly against him "How long I have wanted you," he murmured. Mairie's heart expanded even more.

She had no idea how long she remained in his arms, how long she held him to her and looked beyond his shoulder to the moon. She closed her eyes and was filled with gratitude for this perfect moment. It wasn't until they heard a distant coyote yip that Jack whispered above her ear.

"We should get moving …"

She simply nodded. Words, explanations, weren't necessary. The feeling of partnership between them had been strengthened.

Thinking in unison now… there would have to be time later to talk about it.

They could only trust that time would come.

They continued west and Mairie fell into the rhythmic heaving breath that came through the horse's nostrils at galloping speed. She moved as one with the animal, breathing when he did, as shadows raced past their vision. She spent hours recalling the taste of Jack's lips, the texture of his skin, the strength of his embrace. It had felt too right to wonder if it could possibly have been wrong. To have reacted any other way in that moment wouldn't have been true. She was leaving this man today and she wanted to experience as much as he was willing to share with her. Every minute, every moment, felt precious.

And she had only a few more hours to treasure as they rode into the night.

Once they had trekked a bit up the base of the mountain, Jack directed the horses to a pinyon tree and they finally dismounted. Taking the reins of both horses, Jack removed a canteen and handed it to her. Neither said a word, as he walked the horses to cool them down.

Mairie drank from the canteen and walked over to Jack. Extending her arm, she offered the canteen to him. He brought it to his lips and threw back his head as he gulped the life-saving liquid. Wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt, he muttered, "Thanks. That was a hell of a ride. Well done, Mairie."

Her heart expanded with a sense of accomplishment. She had done well. "How are you going to water the horses?" she asked, knowing that their lives depended on these animals.

He grinned and handed back the canteen. Removing his weathered black leather cowboy hat, he held it upside down to her. "Pour."

She did as she was asked and watched as Jack held the hat out to his horse, and then hers. He did it once for each horse, and then tied them to a branch of the pinyon tree. It was the last phase of darkness before dawn began to overtake the night and Mairie suddenly realized she was starving.

She remembered Virginia's delicious biscuits and the sandwiches that had been prepared for this journey. "I'm so hungry I could eat a horse!" She paused, and then joked, "But we need them…"

"Sure." He chuckled. "We worked up quite an appetite." He opened one of the leather pockets of his saddlebag and withdrew the food wrapped in a thin cloth. "Here," he offered, handing it to Mairie. "Take it over by that boulder and rest. I'll join you in a moment."

Walking in the direction Jack pointed out, she thought that was the perfect time to hide behind the boulder and relieve herself before they continued. She figured Jack was probably doing the same somewhere. Strangely, since she had accepted this "partnership," she no longer was embarrassed by human needs… and the nearest rest stop was one hundred and twenty-two years away. As she returned to the front of the boulder, she saw Jack sitting and opening one of the cloth-covered sandwiches.

Handing it to her, he said, "You're an amazing woman, Mairie Callahan. Yesterday you were barely recovered from sunstroke while nursing a bruised ankle, and here you are today on this adventure. Most women, even men, under these conditions couldn't laugh at themselves, yet you have taken it all in stride. The white man calls that poise. The Indian calls it balance."

"Thank you." She couldn't believe she actually felt shy receiving the compliment.

"Well, it's true," he said, hesitating before taking a bite. "Your dedication is admirable… Woman is stronger by virtue of her feelings than man by virtue of his power…" He paused. "Balzac, Honoré de Balzac." He looked to the east and began his meal.

She bit into her sandwich thoughtfully. She had never read Balzac. Thinking back to the bantering between Jack and Virginia at dinner, Mairie marveled that this man who had grown up with Indians could slip into cultured formality with such ease.

"Jack…? May I ask a question?"

"Certainly." He responded without hesitation, taking another bite of his biscuit.

She paused a second to formulate it in her mind so it wouldn't sound intrusive. "You said you were adopted into the Paiutes after your parents died, and I was wondering… I mean, I can't help but wonder where you received your education. You continue to amaze me by the way you can transform from the mind set of an Indian, to the rugged cowboy, then to the courtly gentleman. I know you were back east. Did you go to school there?"

He took another bite and looked out to the fading darkness. Swallowing, he said in a somber tone, "It took some time, but eventually I adjusted to Indian life. I became so happy with the Paiutes, learning hunting skills, discovering the wonders of the earth, listening to the creative spirit that runs through all life, that my world felt alive with potential, like anything was possible. Imagining a jackrabbit coming into my path and a half hour later seeing it running in the distance. Things like that. Life seemed magical."

Mairie smiled. "Like Fenton. That's why I adored him. He still knows that."

Jack nodded. "The magic is closest to children. They're still innocent. I remember being like that, balanced for four years while I lived with my brothers. Then the Mormons found out about me and took me away. They sent me to school in Utah. I stayed there for less than a year and ran away. Back to the Paiutes… only I didn't make it. I ran away from the Mormons only to be caught up in the Christian zeal of their missionaries."

His smile was sad as a memory filtered through his mind. "After I tried running away from them and was caught, I confided in a padre who I thought wanted to befriend me. I told him about my brothers. About my home. How I felt so out of place confined in a school room, learning about life, instead of living it. That's when I was sent East, to Washington, to attend a missionary school for indigent children… for my own good."

Mairie's heart went out to the young boy in him. She could imagine him feeling imprisoned and yearning for freedom, his choices taken away.

"I'm sure they thought it was all for my own good," he said, as if reading her mind, before he resumed eating.

Mairie had finished her food and took another drink from the canteen to wash it down. "Is that where you were taught how to act like a gentleman?"

He grinned at her. "Act? You think I am acting?"

Blushing, she replied, "No, not at all. I'm still wondering how you went from a school for poor children to being able to conduct yourself in a … a ballroom. At least, that's how Virginia portrayed you."

"I was the project of a wealthy family that wanted to prove anyone could learn proper behavior. It was their version of charity, I suppose. I was tutored for two years with their children. Ate at their table on Sundays. What torture that was… every single movement, every sigh, every swallow of food, monitored. Any infraction was met with a severe penalty. I guess they thought that was the only way someone raised with Indians could learn."

He reached for the canteen. "I ran away from it all when I was sixteen, but something was born inside me… a thirst for knowledge. To read. I was in Washington and the public library became my home for two more years. I worked at night on the docks and spent the day in the stacks. That's when I first read Socrates… There is only one good, knowledge, and one evil, ignorance. What brilliance. Didn't take me long to realize that wealthy family was more ignorant than my Paiute brothers. I learned not to judge a book by its cover. Be it literature or the cover a person wears to hide behind."

She sat back and stretched her legs out before her. "Wow… now it's my turn. You are one amazing man, Jack Delaney." How could she have ever thought he was feral and deranged? What a comedy of errors they had played out between them. "You remained in Washington, then?"

He seemed uncomfortable with her compliment and focused on answering her last question. "It wasn't surprising that when the war started, I would be one of the first to enlist. What foolishness, to think there was bravado in death. Anyone's death. There is nothing brave in dying. I think during battle, it's living that takes all your courage."

He was seated next to her and stretched his legs alongside hers. She noticed how much longer they were, how his cowboy boots looked like they should be replaced. What an extraordinary man. To quote Balzac and Socrates, here in the middle of the desert. Perhaps because of his sad childhood, he had spent more time in introspection than most others… yet it had served him. She felt the love she had vowed never again to feel expand within her heart. She wanted to take him in her arms, to hug him as he should have been hugged since he was born. To applaud him his accomplishments and to be his cheerleader wherever he went.

A sharp ache reminded her she was leaving him within hours. Best not to think of a future when a hundred and twenty-two years separated them. Trying not to allow the sadness to overwhelm her, she asked, "So then you were wounded in the war? At Gettysburg, right?" Better to change the course of her mental wanderings.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his long dark hair. She turned her head and looked at his profile. That same anguished expression, as when she first met him and vehemently denied she was his gift, came over his face.

"I took a saber thrust at Gettysburg. It was… the whole two days were insanity. Carnage. I lost all my illusions on that so-called field of honor… all my beliefs. I walked away from an infantry hospital, away from the war and the society that created it, to find my soul again."

He gazed at her and smiled slowly. "I know how it is to feel out of place, Mairie. I never felt so alone as during that time. I was surrounded by people who seemed crazed by a blood thirst I never felt. Took me almost five years to make it back here." He looked out to the desert and set his jaw. "This is my home now. I shall remain here."

There it was… Jack Delaney lived and breathed this desert of 1877, and she had to return to her brother and her life. This was his home. Hers awaited at one o'clock this afternoon. She again wanted to take him to her breasts and feel his body next to hers, to actually tell him that she was falling in love with him and didn't know how to leave him.

Hell. She was no longer falling. She loved him. What was most remarkable to her was that this incredible man thought she might be his gift. His answer. The more she knew of the man, the more her heart opened. And now she was in love… with a man who could never return it, who she would never again see in her lifetime.

She felt so drawn to him that she was actually now fighting the irresistible urge to run her fingers over his lips, to taste them again, to memorize every detail of his face, to give in finally to what had been torturing her for days. Complete mutual surrender.

He must have sensed her need, for he turned his head and stared at her mouth, her eyes. Slowly, Mairie leaned forward and reached out her hand. Her fingers lightly traced his bottom lip ever so gently. She didn't care any longer. If they could unite right here, right now, under the fading stars and moon… if they could physically become one, for just this night…

She began to offer herself to him, when her attention was distracted by a tiny, wavering red light on Jack's chest. Puzzled, she stared at it for an instant before something, some shock of memory, screamed at her to remember and she instinctively shoved Jack on his back.

"Get down!" she yelled, just as she heard the bullet ricochet on the boulder, right where Jack had been leaning only a second before.

"Mairie! What the hell was that? It sounded like a bullet hitting the rock." He scrambled to his feet, pulling her with him, and crouched down behind the large boulder.

"It's Harmon," she whispered, fighting the most fear she had ever experienced. "Dear God, he may have traveled into the past to get me, but he came with twenty-first-century weapons. It's a laser rifle with night vision, or something equally powerful. I've seen this stuff in the movies. We can't escape this, Jack… not here."

"A gun? Why didn't we hear the sound of powder when it fired?" He was confused, but even more, he was angry. "Damn it. I can't get to my rifle. The horses are too far. We need to get within the cover of the mountain. Sun's coming up… we stayed too long."

"Oh, Jack…" Sorrow crept into her throat. "It is getting lighter. He'll see us no matter where we move." It couldn't end like this. It simply couldn't. Not here and not now. She prayed for some help, from somewhere.

It seemed futile.

"He can't shoot and chase us at the same time, Mar, he must stop to aim… we need a diversion… hand me that stick from over there." She whipped around, instantly doing what he directed. She must now place her life in his hands. He had the expertise of war and survival methods she didn't. She handed him the stick as he placed his hat on one end.

This is the survival of war technique he had in mind? What was he thinking? There was no time to explain, nor would Jack understand that Harmon had advanced weaponry to see in the dark and at close range. A scope on his rifle. Night vision binoculars. Who knows what else? Harmon had the advantage. He had the future on his side.

They had the hat-on-a-stick trick.

Talk about trust. She had no other alternative but to listen to his plan.

He continued, "Mairie, I must ask you to stay here, at best out of harm's way, behind this boulder and hold my hat above it with the stick. I'll break for our horses and head for that ravine. If he fires at my hat, then sees me with the horses, you'll have only a few seconds to get to the ravine while he aims again at me. Understand?"

"Got it… I think." This shit only happens in the movies, she cursed under her breath.

"Oh, and try not to forget my hat… ready? Now!" He darted around the boulder as she raised his hat into view, waving it like a flag. His hat spun around and off the stick a few feet away from her. Harmon had fired again. Scrambling for his hat, she grabbed it and ran toward Jack with the horses in the ravine.

It worked. Not even a second shot fired. She couldn't believe it as she mounted her horse. There was a great deal to be said about simplicity, she marveled, as they began their ascent in the shadow and protection of the ravine.

"We've only got a little lead now, Mairie. This path is hard and steep. Lean forward often and your horse will instinctively follow mine. We should be at the cave in less than two hours."

The horses gingerly stepped over crevices, rocks, and brush, zigzagging their way up the narrow trail. Breaking the lull of their slow climb, she added, "We may have more of a lead than you think, Jack. He could be miles away… which still isn't to our advantage with his weapons, but he's got to come up this mountain the same way and—"

"That's impossible." He interrupted. "No gun could shoot from that far away… but you're right, unless he's got an air-plane as you have suggested, there's no other way up this mountain."

"I can't explain now. Just trust me. I understand Harmon and now you're dealing with my century…" Her voice fell off as the horses lumbered on. Explaining anything right now would be useless. Her life was at stake. Maybe Jack's. Harmon was, obviously, insane in his mission and wanted her, perhaps both of them, eliminated now.

At least an hour had passed without further incident from Harmon. Where could that madman be? she wondered anxiously. Jack must have been thinking the same thing.

"Do you suppose Harmon is still a few miles behind us?"

"I can't tell. I've been looking back as often as I can, but there are too many shadows on the mountain to distinguish anything." She twisted back around. "Hopefully he's having the same problem."

Suddenly, a whirling sound preceded the huge fire ball explosion that hit the trail just yards above them. Rock, sand, and debris flew everywhere, embedding in their flesh. The horses, which immediately panicked and reared, were hit with shrapnel, too. Stunned, Mairie watched Jack restraining his steed with all his strength. Her horse turned sharply and began galloping off around the side of the mountain as she struggled to stay balanced.

Holding the mane as tightly as she could, she pulled back on the animal, while they rose up one side of a ravine, and down another and another. "Whoa!" She pleaded. "Stop! Stop! Stop!" She couldn't turn to look for Jack or to see if Harmon was behind her. She was hanging on for dear life as the poor terrorized animal instinctively ran for survival.

A sharp whistle broke Mairie's horse from its run. It began to slow to a canter, then walk, snorting rapidly through its nostrils. Mairie remembered the last time she experienced this exact situation and was relieved to find this horse had the good sense to slow down rather than stop dead.

"Mairie, pull back on the reins now!" Jack shouted from a short distance behind her.

He came alongside her and grabbed the bridle. "Whoa…" He said deeply. The horses and riders came to a halt, all heaving.

"Are you all right, Mar?" He swallowed.

"I don't know yet. I think so. Except for a few cuts and bruises, I'll live." She exhaled with a forced smile. "And thanks."

"The horses have been injured. Yours has a deep cut in its right haunch. I'll need to treat it, and us, too, as soon as possible." He scanned the horizon to assure their safety. "Fortunately, your horse darted off in a good direction to reach the cave where we spent your first night here."

 

He couldn't help himself now. He was caught up in the drama, the moment, and this woman, Mairie Callahan. Her life, her love, her gift to him. His mind went back to their first night together. Had he known then all he knew now… how differently everything would have played out.

He shook the thoughts from his head and turned back to Mairie. "What in the hell was that blast back there, anyway? Is he so close he could throw a stick of dynamite, or has he got a cannon? How would he get a cannon all the way out here?" He stared at her in disbelief waiting for some explanation if she could offer it.

"Well, I don't know, maybe a rocket or a grenade … a cannon, of sorts … Jack, it's just one more thing I can't explain in a lot of detail. But it was intended to kill us. Both of us. This man will stop at nothing now. I know it. He sees me as a threat to the history of the future and you're my accomplice. We'll never get off this mountain alive." Her voice sounded defeated.

"Listen, Mar. I know this terrain better than any white man… in my time. I'll get us off this mountain safely and back where you need to be." Looking at the blood trickling from Mairie's horse, he muttered. "Damn, more time we don't have… we've got to hurry if we're going to be able to hide the jar and get off this mountain… past Harmon. Let's get to the cave and figure our damages."

He picked up the reins and slowly began to lead her horse closely behind his as she had never released her clutch of the mane.

 

After what seemed like hours, for the trauma they'd endured, they reached the cliff and cave. Mairie held the bridle of her horse, steadying its head, as Jack used his knife to dig the shrapnel from its leg. "You have to listen to me, Jack," she said, struggling to keep the horse from pulling away. "Oh … I am so sorry," she whispered to the animal, not wanting to look into its eyes to see the pain and fright. "Jack, Harmon could be a mile or more away and still know where we are and how to stop us. You have been… terrific… in this time. The hat on a stick worked, and your timing has been perfect, but you can't compete against twenty-first-century weapons. For over a century, billions of dollars have gone into the art of killing people, and Harmon is carrying the results. He's got the advantage and he's not going to let either one of us live now."

"Have faith, Mairie… balance," he whispered, concentrating, as he gently removed the piece of metal from the horse's leg and held it in his bloodied fingers. Flicking it behind him, he inhaled and sighed. "I didn't come all this way to admit defeat now." He poked his knife around in the small fire he had lit earlier and withdrew it when the tip glowed.

Mairie winced and looked away as he cauterized the wound. She held tighter as the horse threw its head and jolted back in pain.

"Whoa, big fellow," he said lowly, and wiped the knife on the side of his pants. He stroked the animal to calm it and looked to the sun. "Nearly midday. I'll bury the herb inside the cave and then we must descend. We're going to be cutting it close as it is."

She knew time was of the essence now; tending the wounds had been an unexpected delay. "Do you think we can make it… really? It isn't just getting off the mountain now to the desert floor. It's getting off without being killed by Harmon."

He looked down the path they had traveled earlier. She watched him studying the terrain and then he wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve and muttered, "If we have to get to that exact spot, then so does he. He should be heading there, instead of hurling explosives at us. He's not going to make it on time either if he doesn't abandon this mission of his." Shaking his head, he muttered, "Who the hell is this guy?"

In that moment, Mairie had a flash of insight that was so great, it was almost comical.

"Jack! I think I've got it!"

When she'd heard Jack's last question, two scenes from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid went through her mind. She had always loved that movie, and could actually remember Paul Newman's character muttering the same question during a chase. The other great scene was Butch and Sundance jumping off the cliff together.

Dropping the reins, she said excitedly, "I know how we can get off this mountain and beat Harmon to the landing spot."

He looked over at her. "How?"

"We can jump."

There was a prolonged pause before he repeated, "Jump? Jump off this mountain?"

It was comical. Mairie saw he had that expression of disbelief back on his face. She would have laughed, had she the time to indulge in that release. "Listen," she began in earnest. "We can use the parachute. All we need is 5,000 feet to jump and we're almost twice that altitude now. If I pull the chord immediately, we can do it, Jack."

"We can do it?" He began shaking his head and walked over to his horse. Unbuckling his saddlebag, he removed the earthen jar and started heading toward the cave. "I am not about to jump off this mountain. If I'm going to die, I'll die here, fighting for our lives, not throwing them away by jumping off a damn cliff."

She hurried around to face him and grabbed his arms. "Wait… listen. We won't die. You saw me do it. You saw I landed safely—well, except for my ankle, and that was because I landed so hard. But listen to me, Jack… this can be done. You can jump with me."

Pulling away from her he turned to look for a sharp flat stone to dig. "Mairie, you can jump, if you feel that is the only way you can return, but—"

"Jack, look at me!"

It was the first time she had used that tone of voice with him. Even in the beginning she was trying to pacify him, but now she didn't have the time. Now she needed him to really hear her.

Clutching the jar in his hand, he crossed his arms over his chest. "What?"

"The parachute can hold us both. I'll pull the chord immediately to open the chute. We'll come down faster because of our combined weight, but it will hold us. I promise."

She ran back to her horse and grabbed the satchel holding the parachute. Frantically, she pulled it out, cursing herself for just stuffing it inside instead of folding it, as she had been instructed. "Here," she said, holding up one of the handles attached. "See this? There's two of them and they control everything. What direction, slowing down… everything. That's all I have to do. Pull on the left to go left, the right to go right… like the reins of a horse. And when I want to slow down to land, I'll pull them both really, really hard, down between my legs. That will narrow the chute, like slowly closing an. umbrella and trapping the wind inside. It's simple, and it's our only way off this mountain now."

"Simple?" He said shaking his head again as if he were crazy for even listening to her explanation. "Throwing myself off this cliff is simple? I'm burying the herb. You can make up your mind how you want to get down."

He turned and left her staring after him.

Mairie sighed with defeat. How could she make him understand jumping was safer than dealing with Harmon? She had been so obsessed with saving her brother that she put both their lives in such jeopardy. So… it was now up to her to correct it. Determined, Mairie looked at the rumpled silky material she was clenching and figured it was time to take charge. This partnership must go both ways. Jack had used his intelligence and skill to get them to the cave and successfully hide the jar. Now she must use hers to get them out of this. Somehow, someway, she would make him see it was their only alternative.

Looking at the short distance to the rocks with etchings of the ancient ones, Mairie knew there was no place to go beyond it. This was it. The top floor. They couldn't climb or hide anymore. Harmon was waiting below them. There was no other choice.

They had to jump.

Gathering up the parachute in her arms, she walked into the shade of huge red rocks and began laying it out on the ground. She had to remember everything she had been taught about packing the chute. There couldn't be one misfold, one mistake.

Both their lives depended on it.