Up Close and Dangerous (30 page)

Seth’s mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “You don’t know the half of it,” he said. “I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it.” Then he turned and walked off, leaving Logan and Peaches to stand in the door of their hotel room and watch him disappear down the hall.

32

D
URING THE LAST OF HIS FIRE-FEEDING EXCURSIONS,
Cam located the first-aid box amid the jumble of clothing, unwrapped it, and took it out to once more fill it with snow. Bailey’s inventiveness in using the box as a bed warmer made him smile; she had the damnedest talent for seeing beyond an item’s intended use and adapting it for her needs. If they’d been forced to stay at the crash site for much longer, he had no doubt that their stick shelter would have morphed into a mud hut, and she’d have built a windmill from the plane’s metal and parts to power the battery so they could have all the fires they wanted.

After replenishing the fire, he nestled the box close to the hot coals. Having something hot to drink first thing would be great. Being able to lie in bed all day would be even better, but with their food situation the way it was they didn’t have that option.

He waited while the snow in the box melted, hunkering as close to the fire as he could yet still shivering from the icy winds. After adding more snow to the box, as well as a handful of pine needles, he crawled back into the shelter for another hour of sleep before dawn, and the start of another exhausting day.

Bailey didn’t wake, but she hadn’t any of the times he’d gone out to stoke the fire during the night. He stretched out beside her and she came to him like a homing pigeon, draping herself over him and making herself comfortable, all without waking up. With luck, all the rest of their nights would be spent like this, but he wasn’t taking anything for granted. God knew, she made heavy work for herself out of every step of a relationship.
Going with the flow
was an alien concept to her, and emotional trust was something to be avoided.

He had his own work cut out for him, either side-stepping or dismantling the land mines of her childhood. Divorce was tough on everyone, especially kids, but Bailey’s personality had made the upheaval disastrous for her. She needed security on a deeper level than most, and had spent her adult life making certain she was as secure as possible. If that meant not letting herself care about anyone, so be it.

Might as well face it, he told himself cheerfully: his bachelor days were over. He’d have to go all the way with this. She wouldn’t be able to tolerate just being lovers, not for any length of time, but at the same time she’d panic at the idea of a real marriage, with real commitment. He didn’t know how he’d convince her to take the chance, but he’d manage, and have a lot of fun in the process.

“H
ERE’S YOUR MORNING
coffee,” Cam said, waking her with a kiss and extending the deodorant can cap half-full of pine needle tea.

“Umm, coffee!” Sleepily she struggled to a sitting position, shifting around so she could lean against the rock, and took the cap from him. The first sip was wonderful, but not because of the taste, because of the heat—and the consideration of the gesture. No one had ever brought her anything first thing in the morning, she’d always gotten it herself. She took another sip, then offered the cap to him. “It’s great—made from the finest pine needles grown in America.”

He shook his head as he settled beside her. “I’ve already had some. That’s all yours.”

As hot morning drinks went, pine needle tea didn’t have the kick of coffee or tea, but she wasn’t complaining. All in all, she was happy to have it. In fact, she was ridiculously happy this morning, period—which was scary. She pushed the thought away for later examination and said, “So, what’s on the agenda today? Shopping, a little sightseeing, then lunch?”

“I thought we’d go for a nature hike in the mountains.” He put his arm around her shoulders, held her close as he pulled some of the jumbled clothing over their legs. Even with the fire burning just outside, even with the hot drink, the air was still freezing cold and their shelter was far from airtight.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“We have to push hard today.” He sounded somber, and she gave him a quick glance. “Maybe make a sling and lower ourselves and the sled over some vertical drops, that should gain us some time. We need to get out of this wind layer today, so we can get some smoke going.”

Bailey didn’t have to be told why. The pine nuts would keep them going, but they needed more food than just a handful of nuts a couple of times a day. They didn’t know how many more times the battery would start a fire before it was drained of its charge, and the pinecones really needed to be heated before they would easily release the nuts, which made even that an iffy source of food. Today was do-it-or-die day—she hoped not literally, but the possibility was there, had been there from day one. They were in a precarious position.

After eating the handful of nuts, they quickly packed up their supplies, buried the fire, and headed out. She was almost glad there was no opportunity for cuddling or loverlike displays, even more lovemaking. The offering of pine needle tea surpassed any other loverly gesture he might have made, and as for more lovemaking, well, she was a little sore from all his playing, which wasn’t surprising considering how long it had been since she’d had sex.

Besides, she needed time to process. Although she was very adaptive when it came to her surroundings, emotionally she was much less flexible. A day of hard physical exertion and absolutely no demands on her emotions was exactly what she needed.

Which was a good thing, because that was exactly what she got. Cam set a grueling pace, so grueling she was terrified for him. He was in the lead, so if he stepped on a seemingly solid place and it turned out to be a snowbank that caved in beneath him, he’d be gone before she could begin to react, pulling the heavy sled down on top of him.

That scenario suddenly was so real that she yelled “Stop!” and when he did she hurried to get in front. “I’ll lead,” she said brusquely, setting out at the same pace he’d set.

“What the fu—? Hey!” he yelled after her, scowling as he tried to catch up.

“You’re pulling the sled. I’ll test the footing.”

He didn’t like that at all, but until he could catch her, there wasn’t a hell of a lot he could do about it—and he couldn’t catch up with her as long as he was pulling the sled. She settled the makeshift straps of the roll-aboard backpack more comfortably on her shoulders, and plowed ahead.

She did pick up a long, sturdy branch to use to poke into the ground ahead of her, just to make certain the ground was really there, but she didn’t let it slow her down much. The possibility of being rescued either this afternoon or tomorrow pulled her along. God, she wanted off this mountain! She developed a rhythm, the poke of the stick through the snow followed by the slide of her snowshoes over the crusty top layer. The sounds were monotonous, lulling, which was in itself a danger.
Poke,
slide, slide,
poke,
slide, slide. She had to force herself to pay attention.

They slithered down slopes that the day before they would have detoured around. Most of them she couldn’t have negotiated without the sturdy stick, and at every one they had to remove their snowshoes so they could get better traction. She would go down first, and Cam would lower the sled to her, carefully playing out the rope he’d made by tying pieces of clothing together. Then she would hold the sled while he made his way down, at which point he would take over the sled again.

He didn’t mention taking point, but the current system, with her testing the way, was working out so well he’d have been a fool to insist that he lead. If there was one thing Cam wasn’t, she thought, it was a fool. He had an ego, but he also had a brain, and in him the brain trumped everything else. She liked that; no, she loved it. She repeated the word to herself several times.
Love, love, love.
It took some getting used to, but she didn’t feel quite as panicked now as she had at first.

Just before noon, one of the straps on her right snowshoe broke. It came off in midstep and she stumbled forward, one shoe on and one off; only the fact that she dug the thick stick into the ground kept her from falling on her face. As it was she merely went down on one knee and quickly levered herself back to her feet. She tugged her face mask down and dragged in a deep breath. “I’m okay,” she said as Cam pulled even with her, critically examining her for damage before he bent to pick up the snowshoe.

“I can fix it,” he said after briefly looking at the torn strap. “We need a break, anyway.”

They sat down on the sled and took a breather while they passed the water bottle back and forth. He removed the torn strap, replacing it with another strip of fabric cut from yet another garment. At this pace, she thought humorously, if they didn’t get rescued soon, she wouldn’t have any clothes left to use as a covering at night.

“We’ve made good time,” he said, looking around him. “We’re probably five hundred feet lower than we were this morning.”

“Five hundred feet,” she muttered. “I know we’ve traveled five miles, at least.”

His teeth flashed in a grin. “Not quite, but that five hundred feet is significant. Can’t you tell the difference in the wind?”

She lifted her head. Now that he mentioned it, she could. The trees weren’t whipping about quite so much, and though the wind was cold, it lacked the icy sharpness they’d been enduring since the crash. Plus, because they hadn’t been able to go straight down, but had been forced to traverse the mountain, they now seemed to be heading in a more easterly direction, away from the windward side. The temperature probably was only a degree or two warmer, but the difference in the wind velocity made things feel almost pleasant in comparison.

Her spirits had been good, but now they soared. She looked at him and grinned. “You might get to light that signal fire this afternoon after all, Tonto.”

He snorted and gave her leg a light pinch, then finished threading the new strap through the snowshoe. “Good as new,” he pronounced, hunkering down beside her to tie it onto her booted foot. “Ready to go?”

“Ready.” She was hungry and tired, but no more hungry and tired than he was, maybe less so, because with his larger muscle mass he would burn more calories even sitting still than she would. This was their fifth day, and she reckoned she’d lost about ten pounds because of the cold and lack of food, but he’d probably lost at least fifteen. With their food completely gone now, they would begin losing strength, so they were racing against time to get to a more temperate zone. By pushing themselves so hard they were burning more calories, yes, but if the end result was getting rescued this afternoon or first thing tomorrow morning, then it was worth the effort.

When they stood, Cam flexed his shoulders and arms, working out some of the kinks before he got back into the harness. Bailey could only imagine the effort he was putting out, pulling that heavy sled over the rugged terrain. She could see the strain on his face, etched in lines of fatigue. How much longer would he be able to go on?

They set off again, using the same method as before. Even with the short break, even with all the exercise she normally did, her leg muscles were burning. But if Cam could continue, so could she.

Once Cam shouted, and she looked back to see him straining against the pull of the sled; one of the runners had slipped over the edge of a rock and the whole thing was trying to slide over. The drop wasn’t that much, maybe six feet, but it was high enough that the sled would probably be damaged beyond repair. Clumsily she hurried back with the shuffling gait imposed on her by the snowshoes, squeezed past him, and got to the rear of the sled. The way the sled was made there was no place to get a good grip, so finally she just grabbed the edge of the runner that had slid off and pulled up and back with all her strength. She heard an ominous crack but didn’t dare let go, bracing her legs and pulling up while Cam threw all of his power and weight into pulling forward. With the sled’s center of gravity shifted to where it should be, the sled moved forward once again, and she hastily released the runner before her fingers were caught.

Her feet slid forward, and with a cry she slipped right over the edge of the rock.

She landed with a thump, hard enough to jar every bone in her body, then toppled forward on her hands and knees. “Damn it!”

“Bailey!”

Alarm was plain in Cam’s deep voice and she called out, “I’m okay, nothing broken.” But she’d definitely added to her already fine collection of bruises. She got to her feet and dusted the snow off her hands and knees, then looked around for the best way to get back up where he was. Unfortunately, she had to trudge back in the opposite direction for about thirty yards, then clamber up a sharp, rough grade littered with loose rocks that were hidden under the snow and made climbing treacherous. She was panting from the effort by the time she reached him.

Neither of them said anything, because there was no point in wasting their precious breath. He was okay, she was okay, the sled was okay. They pressed on.

Just before five o’clock, she skidded to a halt, staring in dismay at the half-circle shape of the cliff that yawned at her feet. The walls were vertical slabs of rock, dotted here and there with dabs of white where falling snow had found a precarious resting place. They had approached from the side of the cliff, and for quite a while the way had been becoming steeper and steeper, so much so that in some stretches she’d had to walk beside the sled and push against it to keep it moving forward. Now they couldn’t go forward at all, unless they wanted the last thousand feet of their trip to be made at the speed of a free-falling body. To the right, the ground dropped away so sharply there was no way they could make it with the sled. To go around the cliff they would have to go up, a steep climb she knew she couldn’t make, not now. The only other option was to go back.

“I guess this is where we make the fire,” Cam said, bracing the sled against a big rock so it wouldn’t go careering down the mountain. Wearily he removed the harness, then wiped the sweat from his face.