Beholden (18 page)

“What are you going to do?” Terry asked.

“Just hold tight.” He was going about forty-five, but he couldn’t take a chance on slowing more. They’d see him hit the brake
lights. He was almost there. Waiting till the last possible second, he turned the wheel sharply left and heard the squeal
of tires as the van bounced onto the dirt path. Dust flew every which way as Luke gripped the wheel, straightening out of
the turn.

He was dimly aware that Terry had held on because he hadn’t felt her roll to the other side. He headed up, waiting for the
dust to settle so he could make sure they’d lost the sedan. Sure enough, no one was following.

Still, he kept on climbing, unable to trust the situation yet. He was rounding a hairpin turn when he spotted the blue car
racing after them, speeding to catch up. He felt his gut tighten the way it always did when he knew he’d have to go head-on
with someone. Or several someones.

“Are we in the clear?” Terry spoke into the silence.

“Not yet. Stay down. I’ll let you know when.” The shadows were deepening up here, although it was only late afternoon. Tall
evergreens were densely crowded in with cedar and pine, leaving little room for the sun to break through. He’d have to pick
his spot carefully, Luke knew. He wouldn’t get a second chance.

Moments later, he saw that the path narrowed up ahead, leaving a sheer drop on one side and steep cliffside on the other.
It would have to do. Carefully slowing, his eyes flickering from road to rearview, he bided his time. Finally, he reached
the deserted stretch where the path hugged the rocky abutment. Now or never, Luke thought as he slammed to a stop, shoved
it into park and reached for his gun.

“Don’t move until I come back,” he ordered Terry, then leaped from the van. There was no room for the sedan to move around
them, so it screeched to a halt behind, its bumper nearly kissing his. Gun drawn, Luke rushed the driver’s side and yanked
open the door. “Get out,” he shouted.

Startled, the driver just stared at the gun pointing at his face. “Hey, man, we didn’t mean nothing.”

Teenagers. Two scrawny teenagers with bad complexions and even worse haircuts. He hadn’t figured kids would be driving a big
Lincoln. The boy in the passenger seat scurried out, holding his trembling hands up in the air.

“Don’t shoot, mister,” he whined.

Luke’s eyes were as cold as the Pacific as he jerked the driver out and shoved him against the car. “Spread ’em.”

The kid obeyed. Luke could feel him twitching as he patted him down. He motioned to the other punk with his gun. “Over here.”

The frightened boy joined his pal and leaned against the car while Luke checked him over. Taking a step back, he ordered them
to turn around. “Just what the hell did you think you were doing following me?”

The driver swallowed around a huge Adam’s apple. “We were just, you know, riding around.”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “Uh huh.” Gun still trained on them, he reached for his ID and flipped it open, watching their eyes
grow wide. “Let me see your driver’s license.” The kid who’d been behind the wheel reached toward his back pocket. “Nice and
slow,” Luke warned. “You don’t want to make me nervous.”

Following orders, the kid held out his wallet.

“Take out your license.” When he did, Luke saw that it was a temporary, recently issued. Steve Dawson, turned sixteen last
week. He eyed the other boy. “Who’s your friend?”

“Danny,” Steve offered. “Danny Compton.”

“Whose car?”

“My dad’s,” Steve answered. “Registration’s in the glove compartment. He said I could drive it this afternoon, honest. You
can call him and check.”

“Don’t think I won’t.” Stepping back, but keeping the two in his sight, Luke took his notebook out and copied down the information
from the boy’s license, plus the plate numbers. He had no plans to do anything with them, unless it became necessary. “What’s
your dad do, Steve?”

“Insurance agent.”

“You live with him at this address on your temporary license?”

“Yeah, sure. All my life.” The kid tried for pleasant, unsure just where he stood. “Look, we didn’t mean any harm. We were
just fooling around.”

Luke stepped close to both boys, watched their eyes fill with fear as they stared at the gun rather than him. “You were deliberately
following my van, even when I turned off. You couldn’t see who was inside. Maybe you thought it was some helpless woman, someone
you could force over and rob. Or do worse to, right, boys?”

“No,” they both chorused, shaking their heads. “We were just, you know, horsing around,” Steve added.

Luke handed the license back to Steve. “Don’t you
ever
let me catch you doing anything like this again, you hear?”
They bobbed their heads in unison. “Now get out of here and go straight home.”

Steve reached for the door handle. “You going to call my dad?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He stood back and waited until they both got into the sedan. Then he returned to the van. Shoving it into
gear, he moved ahead until he found a fork in the road. Pulling over, he let them pass, watching them speed up and zoom off.
Angrily, he turned around and headed back to the highway.

“Who was it?” Terry finally asked. She’d been so frightened, not being able to hear anything but muffled voices. She’d cringed,
waiting for the shot that meant that they’d killed Luke, too. Like the wimp she was, she’d stayed hidden, wondering what she’d
do if they did kill him. Now, ashamed of her cowardice, she couldn’t seem to get up.

“A couple of kids out joyriding.” He stopped at the intersection, then swung onto the highway toward home. When she didn’t
return to her seat, he glanced over his shoulder. “You can come back now. It’s okay.”

But Terry stayed where she was until they’d pulled into the driveway and Luke turned off the engine.

Luke stood at the bottom of the steps staring up thoughtfully. Terry had been in her room since they’d returned from the drive
and the incident with the blue sedan. She hadn’t wanted dinner and apparently she hadn’t wanted company for she’d gone straight
to her room. He’d checked on her several times through the open door and found her lying curled up on her bed, her Walkman
earphones in place. She wasn’t asleep, but rather staring off into space.

She worried him.

He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering what to do. Should he leave her alone until she got over this mood? Should he take
up some food and order her to eat before she
made herself sick? Or should he just march into her room and demand an explanation for her sulky behavior?

Luke wasn’t happy with any of those choices.

Damn, but women were infuriating, he thought as he walked to the kitchen window and pulled back the heavy drape. A slice of
moon sprinkled the backyard with silvery light. Prince was patiently pacing the perimeter as he so often did. Not a breeze
was stirring, not a leaf moving. The restlessness was confined to him alone, it seemed.

Earlier, he’d built a fire, and he strolled back to the living room to stare into it. At the time, he’d thought that Terry
would come down after resting awhile and join him. At his cabin in Sedona, he’d sat many an evening gazing into his fire after
a day of hard work. He’d felt soothed by watching the flames lick at the logs. Why was it that now he couldn’t enjoy this
fire for worrying about the woman lying upstairs looking so lost?

Unlike Jones, Luke kept himself removed from the personal problems of the witnesses assigned to him after several incidents
that had nearly gotten him killed. He’d learned not to take on their troubles, not to turn himself inside out trying to keep
them amused until their confinement ended. He was painfully aware that he never should have gotten to know Terry Ryan any
better than the others. A protector was most effective when he was detached, impersonal, somewhat distant.

Somewhere over the past weeks, he’d lost that distance.

All right, damn it, enough! He started up the stairs.

Terry felt too weary to move, too bruised to cry. She wanted nothing more than to be in her own bed, to curl up and pull the
covers over her head, to escape until she could deal with the world again. Provided that day ever came.

She was so very tired, yet afraid to sleep for she knew that tonight, she’d dream, reliving that nightmare chase. This whole
thing was never going to end. She must have angered
the gods but good, for she seemed destined to spend the rest of her days and nights running, trembling, frightened.

Setting aside her earphones, she sat up and reached to the nightstand for a tissue and blew her nose. It was then that she
saw Luke standing in the doorway, his face stormy. What rule had she violated this time to upset him still again? Calmly,
she waited for the explosion.

If he’d come upon her sobbing, he might have walked away, unable to deal with a distraught woman weeping. But he’d stood watching
the silent anguish on her face, and she’d gotten to him. Though he felt a shade out of his element, he stepped into the room
and walked over to look down at her.

It wasn’t like the night he’d charged into her room with his gun drawn and scared her. He saw no fear this time, just sadness
and fatigue. She’d removed her contacts and headscarf, and wore only jeans and a blue sweater, her feet bare. She looked much
younger than he knew her to be, yet the awareness in her deep blue eyes was very much that of a woman.

He didn’t know what to say to her, so he said nothing. Instead, he sat down on the bed, scooted back to the side-wall, and
gently eased her into his arms. He felt her stiffen for a moment, resisting the contact. Then she let out a sigh, wound her
arms around him, and snuggled into his chest. Luke let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

She was so slender, scarcely a hundred pounds, a fragile mound beneath his big hands. He was reminded of a song that spoke
of the trembling heart of a captive bird. As the memory formed, Luke frowned, unused to entertaining fanciful thoughts. He
certainly didn’t consider himself a tender man, yet Terry Ryan moved him to a sensitivity he hadn’t known he possessed.

Against his shirt, he could feel her eyelashes as she blinked, so he knew she wasn’t dropping off to sleep. Yet she lay against
him so still, so quiet. He reacted instinctively, not
thinking so much about what he was doing as much as letting his feelings guide him.

His one hand gently stroked her back, his touch one of comfort and nothing else. His other hand strayed to her hair, his fingers
exploring the baby-fine texture, letting her know with slow caresses that the short length didn’t bother him the way it bothered
her. Gradually, he felt her breathing change and knew the instant she began to respond.

She shifted slightly in his arms, her hands on his back subtly drawing him closer. The warm female scent of her wrapped around
him and he breathed in deeply. A warning bell sounded in the back of his mind, and Luke knew he was wandering into dangerous
territory. He was too smart for this, too well trained to allow his senses to dictate to his brain.

But the message didn’t get through. His arms tightened around her as he lowered his head, his cheek resting on her hair. It
felt so good to hold her, to feel the flutter of her heart against his. When was the last time he’d simply held a woman, making
no demands, expecting nothing? He couldn’t remember if he ever had.

If his intention had been to empty her mind of fear, Terry thought, then it was working. Suddenly she could think of nothing
but how it felt to be held against that hard, strong body, of how safe she felt for the first time in weeks. He was so big,
so solid. And for once, he wasn’t issuing orders or being cool, controlled, and standoffish. He was being human.

How had he known how badly she’d needed the touch of another human being? How could this tough, focused lawman have ever seen
the need hidden beneath the facade she’d shown him? How could he have guessed that she’d wanted this so badly?

But she couldn’t indulge herself too long, couldn’t take advantage of his kindness, couldn’t take a chance that he’d
misinterpret her need for comfort for another more basic need.

Slowly, Terry pulled back and sat away, not meeting his eyes. “I’m all right now. Thanks.” She felt awkward, even a little
embarrassed.

Luke studied the dusting of golden freckles across her small nose, so common to the Irish. His gaze moved to her mouth, full
and soft and inviting. He knew she felt self-conscious about her looks since the accident. He didn’t have the words to tell
her that she was lovely in his eyes. He’d let his actions speak for him.

He reached to tilt her chin upward so she had to look at him. He saw the need in the blue depths of her eyes, and gave in
to his own. In one swift movement, he touched his mouth to hers and drew her back into his arms.

Surprise had her lips parting and he seized the moment to send his tongue in to mate with hers. She didn’t struggle, didn’t
move at all. Then she breathed a soft sigh and gave herself up to the kiss.

He’d expected shyness, hesitancy, a touch of reserve. Instead she kissed him back, fully, completely, her taste exploding
on his tongue. His hands roamed her back as he shifted, slanting his mouth more firmly over hers, taking her deeper. She didn’t
kiss like a wounded bird, but rather like a woman who was making his heated blood race through his veins.

Luke couldn’t have said later how long the kiss lasted. But suddenly he knew as surely as he knew his own name that he never
should have touched her, that he’d started something he might not be able to stop if he didn’t end it right now. Pulling back,
breathing hard, he stared into eyes still hazy with passion unexpectedly aroused.

What in hell had he done?

Terry saw the regret on his face, and looked away. “Are you playing games with me?” she asked softly.

“No. I wanted to reassure you and… ” He rubbed the
back of his neck, disgusted with himself. “Oh, hell. I wanted to kiss you and I did. No big deal.”