Lone Defender (Love Inspired Suspense) (6 page)

“You okay?” Jonas maneuvered into place beside her, his movements effortless. No doubt he was furious about the untied rope, but it didn’t show. Nothing showed but his determination to get them both to the top.

“Fine.” Except that her arms were going to fall off, her legs give out and she was going to tumble to her death. At least she wouldn’t carry him with her.

“Then prove it. Finish what you started.” No pity, no sympathy, no encouragement. Just a barked command for Skylar to do what she had to do.

“How much farther?” She ground out the question as she reached for the next handhold, her heart pulsing a strange uneven rhythm. She felt light-headed, her limbs no longer hers, and she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to force adrenaline back through her body.

“Twenty feet.”

Twenty?

It felt like she’d already climbed a thousand.

Her body shook with effort as she struggled up. Close. So close to victory. She could almost taste it. Almost feel the cold wet earth beneath her overtaxed body.

“Hold tight.” Jonas shot out the command, and Skylar followed it, her breath heaving, her lungs burning, fingers clinging tight to slick rock. She glanced down. Way down. Was sure she saw shadows moving.

“Hurry.” She wanted to shout the request, but it emerged as a whisper that even she could barely hear.

And then he was reaching down, his hands hooking around her wrists, pulling her up and over so quickly she barely felt the scrape of stone against her stomach, barely realized she was moving before she was lying on the ground, gasping, coughing, nearly crying with relief.

“Don’t ever play a game like that with me again, Grady. Is
that clear?” Jonas growled as he pulled her to her feet, held her arm while she caught her balance.

“I don’t play games,” she managed to say, the pain in her arms and legs nearly doubling her over. She stood her ground, though. Didn’t back down. She’d done what she had to do. Made sure that at least one of them would survive.

“What do you call this?” He yanked the rope from his waist.

“My way of making sure I didn’t die knowing that I was taking someone else to eternity with me.”

“A selfish choice. Come on. We need to move before we lose our lead.” He stalked away, and she followed, her legs trembling with the aftermath of her climb.

“Selfish? I was trying to save your life.”

“So that I could live knowing I couldn’t save yours?”

“It wasn’t your job to save my life. It was your job to find me. You did.”

“It’s my job to get you out of the desert and back to New York. That’s what Kane asked me to do. It’s what I intend to do. Do us both a favor. Stop being so pigheaded, and let me.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re rude?”

“More times than I can count.”

“And it hasn’t occurred to you that it’s something you need to work on?”

“It’s occurred to me.” He eased the pace, slowing from a brisk walk to a leisurely stroll as if they had all the time in the world. They didn’t, but Skylar wasn’t capable of much more than the new pace he’d set. He knew it. Of course he did. Jonas didn’t seem like the kind of guy who missed things. Not bad guys lurking in shadows. Not noises in the darkness. Certainly not Skylar’s limping pace and panting breath.

“It’s occurred to
me
that I’m slowing you down. You got me up the mesa. You really don’t have to stick around. The
guys who are after us are really only after
me,
and as much as I want to swoon like a Victorian lady and let you carry me out of the desert on your manly shoulders, I don’t want your blood on my hands.”

“Manly shoulders?”

“My point is—”

“I know what your point is, Grady. Here’s mine. I watched my wife and unborn son die a few years ago. I was helpless to save either of them. I’m
not
helpless to save you. All the arguments you throw out? They’re not doing anything but wasting energy. Yours
and
mine.” His words stopped her cold, and she touched his arm, felt corded muscle beneath wet cotton.

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine anything more painful than that.”

“It was…tough.”

An understatement. Skylar knew that.

Not her business, but she wanted to ask how they’d died. Why. Wanted to tell him again how sorry she was.

“Jonas—”

“There’s a path to the desert floor on the north side of the mesa. Not too steep. If we’re careful, we should be able to make it down without a problem.” He cut her off, his tone gruff.

“As long as we’re not hanging off the face of a rock again, I’ll be happy.” She tripped, nearly tumbling face-first onto the ground.

“Like I said, we need to be careful.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, urging her on. Warmth spread through her at the contact, the heat of his arm seeping through layers of wet cloth, making her want to burrow close, steal more of his warmth. She moved away instead, uncomfortable with her need, her weakness.

Rain dripped down her hair and into her eyes, but she
didn’t bother wiping it away. It was too dark to see much anyway, and she was too tired to do more than keep trudging across the mesa. They were on the path before she realized it, and Jonas stepped in front of her, his movements as lithe and fluid as a jungle cat.

“We’ll have to go single file. I’ll go first. You follow. Stay close.” He snagged both her hands, pressing them to his waist, and her fingers twisted through his belt loops. She didn’t protest, or try to pull away. As much as she didn’t want him to die because of her, she wanted to survive. He was her lifeline. It was as simple as that. As frustrating as that. She’d spent most of her life clawing and fighting to prove that she could make it on her own, and now she had no choice but to admit she couldn’t. Without Jonas, she’d die. The wind, the rain, the cold, all sapped her strength, made her clumsy, every step an effort in concentration, every movement sluggish and difficult.

A voice carried on the wind. Or maybe it was simply her imagination. Either way, she wanted to move faster. Her foot caught on a rock, and she stumbled, falling into Jonas’s back, her head slamming into his pack. She saw stars, felt reality slipping away. No more rain or cold or wind. Just easy darkness and silence and warmth. All she had to do was let herself go.

“I thought you weren’t going to make me sling you onto my manly shoulders and carry you out of here.” Jonas’s voice pulled her back from the brink of unconsciousness. He’d wrapped his arms around her so they were pressed close, his warmth seeping through her chilled body, his arms supporting her deadweight. She tried to push away, but he held her head to his chest. “Just take a minute.”

“A minute isn’t going to do me any good, but thanks for the offer.” She tried to keep her voice light, hoped he didn’t hear her desperation.

“I did search and rescue for a lot of years,” he said, letting her go and walking again.

“Yeah?”

“There were plenty of times when a person I thought was equipped to survive, someone who was trained in survival or used to the environment, didn’t make it. There were even more times when someone who wasn’t prepared at all, someone I was sure I’d find dead, pulled through.”

“The will to survive is a powerful thing.” She snagged his belt loops again, trying to concentrate on his words, hoping to clear her head, sharpen her thinking.

“It is, but, all things being equal, the difference between survival and death doesn’t lie in the will to live. It lies in the ability to hope. Once hope is lost, everything else is lost with it.”

“Don’t worry. I have plenty of hope. I’m just running short on steam.”

“I have granola and raisins in my pack. A few more protein bars. Probably a couple apples, too. I’ll get them out once we’re on flat terrain. For now we need to keep moving.” He didn’t say why, didn’t mention their pursuers, but Skylar could feel the hot breath of the hunter on her neck, could imagine high-powered rifles aimed at her. At any moment, a bullet could slice through the darkness, slam into her back.

The wind abated, the rocky landscape giving way to thick scrub as the slope eased.

Solid ground beneath her feet.

Finally.

Skylar would have knelt and kissed the desert floor if she’d thought she could make it back to her feet again.

“You did good, Grady.” Jonas didn’t slow as he pulled off his pack, dug into it and handed her an apple.

“And this is my reward?”

“Would you rather have a medal?”

“Maybe.” She bit into the apple because she needed the fuel, not because she felt hungry. All she felt was exhaustion, pulling at her, slowing her down. Maybe the apple would help. Probably, it wouldn’t.

The difference between survival and death doesn’t lie in the will to live. It lies in the ability to hope.

The words drifted through her mind. Jonas’s words. Tessa’s voice. She glanced around, almost expecting to see her long-lost sister somewhere nearby.

They’d been opposites growing up. Skylar the pragmatist. Tessa the optimist, always filled with dreams and hopes for the future. Foolish dreams, in Skylar’s mind, but she’d never had the heart to tell her sister that. Maybe, secretly, she’d wanted to believe all those hopes and dreams would come true for both of them. Maybe she
still
wanted to believe they would.

She frowned, taking another bite of the apple because she was seriously afraid she was losing her mind.

“Here.” Jonas dropped something over her head, pulled it into place around her neck.

“What is it?” She ran her fingers along a thin leather cord, several cold beads and what felt like a stone arrowhead.

“Your medal.”

“It feels like an arrow.”

“One of my grandfather’s. His grandfather taught him how to make them. He taught me. Better than anything you could buy in a store. At least, that’s what he always said. Me? I was more into bullets than bows, but he wanted me to remember the old ways, so he gave me that for my sixth birthday.”

“I can’t take it, then.” She started to pull it off, but he stilled her hands.

“You earned it. Besides, Pops gave me a few every year until I was thirteen and could make them myself. I used to
earn money selling them at a gift store outside the reservation.”

“An entrepreneur at a young age, huh?”

“A kid who didn’t value what he had but, then, what kid does?”

Not Skylar.

Not that she’d had much to put value in.

A drug-addicted mother. An alcoholic father. A wild older sister. A cluttered, unstable home. School had been her refuge, and she
had
valued that. But family had always been a distant dream. One she still hadn’t reached. “I still don’t feel comfortable taking it.”

“You’re not taking. I’m giving.”

“You’re splitting hairs.”

“And you’re fighting me again.”

“It’s better than thinking about how many hours there are until dawn and how tired I am.”

“Not so many left, Grady. It’s almost two, and the rain is letting up. I put a call in to search and rescue while you were sleeping. They know our situation. As soon as the storm clears, they’ll send a chopper.”

If they survived that long.

She didn’t say what she was thinking. Just kept walking, her gaze focused on the dark horizon. No lights. No sign of civilization. Nothing but exactly what she’d been seeing for days. “You know, I’ve spent the past six days heading toward the mesa, hoping civilization was on the other side. There’s nothing here, though. Just more desert.”

“It’s a big place. Easy to get lost in.”

“But you know where we’re headed.”

“Right now we’re just headed away from what’s behind us.”

“How much lead time do you think we have?” Her words
were raspy, her throat hot.
Everything
was hot. Her face, her hands, her entire body, burning from the inside out.

“Hopefully, enough.”

“That doesn’t sound very promising.” She glanced over her shoulder, scanning the mesa. A shadow moved along the top. Two shadows. Three. Her pulse leaped, and she nearly stumbled. “They’re on the mesa.”

And she was deadweight, slowing Jonas down. “I think—”

“Don’t waste your breath. We’re together, and we’re staying together.”

“Then we need to move faster.”

“And risk you not being able to move at all? I don’t think so.”

“But—”

“If they had night vision and high-powered rifles, they’d have picked us off long ago. Since they don’t, they’ll need to climb down the mesa. Once they’re down here, we’re on an equal playing field. No way will they be able to see us. That means they’ll need to track us. That means time.”

“And they have plenty of that.”

“A few hours. That’s not much.”

“It’s an eternity.” Sweat trickled down Skylar’s forehead, heat consuming her, sapping what little energy she had. She raised a hand to brush it away, her arm shaking. A week ago, she’d been strong and fit and ready to conquer Cave Creek, Arizona. Now she felt two hundred years old, her body aching and weak. It brought back memories she preferred not to dwell on. Those dark days in the hospital when doctors had stood over her bed and shaken their heads as she’d insisted that she’d walk again.

She’d beaten the odds then.

Maybe she’d beat them again.

But it didn’t seem likely just now.

They hit the crest of a small hill, and she glanced over her shoulder, saw shadows weaving their way down the mesa.

Her foot caught on a rock, and she flew forward, her legs going out from under her so quickly she didn’t have time to try to recover. She landed with a thud, skidding a few feet forward, the breath knocked from her lungs.

Get up.

Get.

Up.

Her mind screamed the command, but her body refused to listen.

“You okay?” Jonas crouched beside her, not touching her, not trying to hurry her to her feet. Just waiting. He’d brought them across flat ground, up a hill and was ready to lead them down the other side and out of the sight of their pursuers.

She just had to get back on her feet and go.

Easy.

She scowled, pushing away from the rocky earth, her palms stinging as she levered onto her knees, struggled to her feet, ignoring the hand Jonas offered.